Book Of The Month
A badge that drew
killers like buzzards to the feast . . .
The Fatal Star
“You’re ten years older and that much slower. And God knows how many wild boys and bitter men are out there now who would just love to add the scalp of the famous Cord Gant to their belts. Can’t you see that? They’ll be trying to kill you just because you’re who you are, never mind anything else.”
“Then I’ll just have to make sure they don’t succeed, won’t I?”
He stepped toward her to say goodbye, but she turned her chair away from him.
His face drawn with pain, Gant returned to his horse and unlooped the reins. But as he fitted his foot to the stirrup, she called his name.
She was wheeling the chair toward him.
Gant went down on one knee and embraced her for what seemed an eternity, holding her as though it was their final farewell. And with a hell town ahead and an old bullet leaning on his heart, it might well prove to be just that.
Then he swung into the saddle. The trail beckoned and the day was dying. Lauren watched him until she couldn’t see him any longer, then stayed there for a long time praying he might come back.
But of course . . . he didn’t.