Whitfield exhaled. "Kick it away."
Colette obeyed. The rig stopped beneath the edge of the boardwalk, several feet from anyone's reach.
Whitfield stepped closer. "Hands where I can see them."
Colette raised both hands.
Bragg watched her with open disbelief. "Eight months' training," he said, "and she gives up her guns."
Colette looked at him. "You still think the guns were the plan?"
The stable boy was lying beneath the boardwalk. No one had seen him crawl there while every eye followed the rifle. His small hand closed around the edge of Colette's rig. He pulled. Leather whispered across dirt.
Whitfield heard it. He turned the rifle. Mrs. Holloway seized the barrel with both hands and wrenched it away from her chest. The rifle fired; the bullet shattered a window above the street.
The stable boy dragged the rig through the gap beneath the boardwalk. Colette dove toward him. Whitfield threw Mrs. Holloway aside and worked the rifle's lever; a fresh cartridge rose.
Colette's hand found the long-barreled Colt at her right hip. Whitfield raised the Winchester. Colette fired first.
Her bullet struck him below the ribs and spun him into the hitching rail. The rifle fell from his hands. He remained on his feet for one astonished second, then his knees folded.
Colette approached with the Colt aimed at his chest. Whitfield lay against the rail, one hand pressed to his side, blood spreading between his fingers. He reached weakly toward the fallen Winchester. Colette kicked it away.
"Do it," he whispered. "You crossed six hundred miles for it."
Her finger rested on the trigger. She remembered Thomas beneath the undertaker's sheet. She remembered spring rain darkening the soil as his coffin disappeared. She remembered every morning she had awakened with hatred waiting beside her. Killing Whitfield would be easy now.
That was what frightened her.
Colette lowered the hammer carefully. "I crossed six hundred miles for the truth." She holstered the Colt. "The court can have what is left of you."
Whitfield closed his eyes.
The blacksmith lifted the Winchester. Two ranchers carried Mrs. Holloway away from the broken glass. The stable boy crawled out with Colette's rig clutched against his chest.