Protection

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“And that’s the story of how I got an interview with the man who shot Kid Calvin.”

Clint rubbed his temples to try to ease the throbbing pain in his head. Damian hadn’t shut his mouth since they left the ranch three hours ago. The minutes had barely rolled past and his nerves were shot. He was pretty sure that he was hearing Damian’s life story in a few hours. If not, he would soon at the rate that the man was going.

Miss Cooper seemed to be enjoying the chatter, while Colt simply stared straight ahead and appeared to block any sound out of his thought process. Clint envied that ability. Damian chattered on to another story about one of his boring adventures as a newspaper journalist. Clint pulled his hat low over his eyes and leaned back. This was going to be the worst trip he had ever been on.

Another half an hour passed and it seemed that Damian was out of stories, because he resorted to personal questions.

“So how did you come about becoming a gunfighter, Mr. Slade?” he asked.

Clint rolled his eyes under the brim of his hat. Every writer asked him the same question, and he always gave the same monotone answer.

“I never became a gunfighter. I planned to stop injustice, and this is the way I saw to do it,” he said.

No matter what tone he put that phrase in, the writers always managed to make an entire article out of it, usually containing their side of his pathetic story.

“I see. Were you ever any relation to the Slade brothers of Virginia?” Damian asked.

“No,” Clint denied the men’s existence.

“How many men have you killed?”

“As many as I’ve had to.”

“Do you have a family?”

“No.” Clint pulled his hat lower over his eyes.

“What happened to them?”

Clint froze. That was never a question he had made up an answer for. He couldn’t bear to think of one. Determined not to say a single thing that might hurt his hardened reputation, Clint set his jaw and kept silent.

“Mr. Slade?” Damian asked.

“I think he’s asleep,” Miss Cooper’s voice said.

Clint didn’t prove him wrong. He simply sat there stock-still and pretended that he was oblivious to what was going on around him.

After a few more hours of mindless chatter off and on, Clint switched out with Colt and took the reins to the horses so the man could rest in the back, though Clint wasn’t sure how much rest he would get with Damian across from him.

Miss Cooper had sat silent for a while, and Clint had learned in his few days with the Coopers that her silence meant that she was thinking. He hadn’t learned if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet. Either way, he wasn’t intending on finding out.

Sitting next to the woman made him nervous. Something about her came out at him and told him to beware of her. Maybe it was her inner strength that he had seen shine through occasionally. Maybe it was her free-spirited nature, or maybe it was just his imagination. He always got jumpy around women.

This is exactly why you shouldn’t have practically volunteered yourself for this job!

“What time do you want to make camp?” Miss Cooper asked to the whole wagon.

Then men shrugged.

“Whatever you think,” Colt said.

“Mr. Slade?” Miss Cooper looked at him.