Read Kilkenny 02 - A Man Called Trent (v5.0) for Free Online

goin’ to. I’ll leave under my own power, and, if I have to walk over somebody in gettin’ out, I could start with you.”
    “Better leave him alone, Bonham,” a new voice interrupted. “He means what he says.”
    They all looked up, startled. Rusty Gates stood in the doorway, a sardonic smile on his hard red face.
    “I was ridin’ by,” he explained, “and thought I’d rustle some coffee. But take a friendly tip.”
    Bonham laughed harshly. “I…”
    “Better shut up, New York man,” Gates said. “There’s been enough killin’ tonight. You keep talkin’, you’re goin’ to say the wrong thing.” Rusty smiled suddenly, and glanced at Lance, his eyes twinkling. “Y’see”—he lighted his smoke—“I’ve heard Lance Kilkenny was right touchy about what folks said of him.”

Chapter V
    The name dropped into the room like a bombshell. Tana’s hands went to her throat, and her eyes widened. Webb Steele dropped his big hands to the table and his chair legs slammed down. Jim Weston backed up a little, his tongue wetting his lips.
    It was Bonham, the man from New York, who Lance Kilkenny was watching, and in Bonham’s eyes he saw a sudden blaze of white, killing rage. The man’s lips drew back in a thin line. If ever lust to kill was in a man’s face, it was in Victor Bonham’s then. An instant only, and then it was gone so suddenly that Kilkenny wondered if it had not been a hallucination.
    “Did you say…Kilkenny?” Webb Steele demanded. “The gunfighter?”
    “That’s right.” Lance’s voice seemed to have changed suddenly. “My name is Lance Kilkenny. Mort Davis was in trouble, so I came to help him.” He glanced up at Webb. “I don’t want trouble, if I canavoid it, but they tried to burn out Mort and wipe him out.”
    “What happened?” Bonham demanded.
    “Four men died,” Lance said quietly. “They were not men anybody ever saw ridin’ with Steele or Lord.” He smiled a little. “Mort’s still around, and still able.”
    Bonham was staring at him. “Yes, I seem to recall something about a man named Kilkenny being nursed by Davis, after a fight.”
    Lance got up. “Think it over, Mister Steele. I’m not ridin’ for war. I never asked for trouble with any man. But Mort’s my friend. Even with two old prairie wolves like you and Chet Lord there can be peace. You two should get together with Mort. You’d probably like each other.”
    Kilkenny stepped backward out of the door and went down the steps to the buckskin. Tana Steele stood there beside the horse. He had seen her slip from the room an instant before he left.
    “So,” she said, scorn in her voice, “you’re a gunman. I might have known it. A man who shoots down other men, less skilled than he, then holds himself up as a dangerous man.”
    “Ma’am,” Kilkenny said quietly, taking the bridle, “I’ve killed men. Most of ’em needed it, all of ’em asked for it. What you say doesn’t help any, or make it worse.” He swung into the saddle. “Ma’am,” he added softly, “you’re shore pretty in the moonlight…where a body can’t see the meanness in you. You’ve either got an awful streak somewhere to make you come out here and say somethin’ unpleasant, or else”—he grinned impudently—“you’re fallin’ in love with me.”
    Tana started back angrily. “In love with you? Why…why, you conceited, contemptible…”
    But the buckskin swung around and Lance dropped an arm about her waist and swung her from the ground. He was laughing, and then he kissed her. He held her and kissed her until her lips responded almost in spite of themselves. Then he put her down and swung out of the ranch yard at a gallop, lifting his voice in song.
Old Joe Clark has got a cow
    She was muley born.
    It takes a jaybird forty-eight hours
    To fly from horn to horn.
    Tana Steele, shaking with anger or some other emotion less easily understood, stood staring after him. She was still staring when his voice died away