Wildstar

"Are you okay?" he asked Clem. "I ought to ride after them."

Still looking dazed, the mule skinner nodded. "I'm be­holden to you. You saved my bacon."

Devlin turned his sweating horse up the steep slope and spurred it into a lumbering gallop—then promptly swore. After the punishing ride and gallant effort, the animal had gone lame and was limping badly, favoring its off rear leg.

Devlin had drawn rein and swung down from the sad­dle, intending to inspect his lame mount, when he heard a plaintive wail.

"My mules!" Clem cried. Devlin turned to see him star­ing down over the rocky slope, and had to grab the old mule skinner's arm to prevent him from rushing over the edge.

A look of shock and devastation gripped Clem's face. "My Nellie . . ." he said hoarsely.

The thud of booted feet interrupted them as a score of miners dressed in grime-coated overalls, shapeless jackets, and coarse felt hats came running down the road from the various mines along the way. Devlin suspected some were from the Lady J, but their supervisor, Hank Purcell was not among them. They slowed to a halt beside Clem and Devlin and took in the scene of wreckage below.

They were followed by several men of the Wildstar's crew. One of them looked at Devlin helplessly and shook his head. "There was three of 'em this time," he said in a hushed voice. "They made for tall timber."

Devlin's jaw hardened. He couldn't take off after them now, with a lame horse and without the proper gear or ad­equate weapons. He would have to go down the mountain to get another saddle horse. And before that, he would have to see to Clem. Tears were streaming down the old man's grizzled face, disappearing into his shaggy gray beard.

Without warning, Clem lurched forward drunkenly, in­tending to climb over the rock ledge, but Devlin tightened his grip on the mule skinner's arm, dragging him back.

"I g-got to see to my mules," Clem protested in a choked voice.

The wagon had burst apart, scattering ore and splintered planks over the sleep slope. Of the dozen mules lying tan­gled in harness and debris, one or two were thrashing in pain. Someone would have to climb down and put the poor beasts out of their misery.

"I'll do it," Devlin said grimly. He looked around at the dazed, dirt-streaked faces of the silent miners. "If someone will fetch me a rope?"

Someone turned and started the long trek back up the road.

His old knees giving way, Clem sank down in a palsied heap. "My Nellie . . . my poor Nellie. . . ."

Jessica was in the kitchen of her boardinghouse with Flo as usual when Clem and Devlin came in.

The mule skinner poked his grizzled head into the large room for barely an instant. "I don't want you saying nothin' about it, Jessie, so I'm givin' you fair warnin'. I'm aiming to get likkered up in private." Then he turned and stomped up to his room, leaving Devlin to tell her about the tragedy.

Jessica's reaction was predictable; her face turned white with shock and horror. "Dear God, was Clem hurt?"

"No, he's all right, but he's upset. His favorite mules were among the ones killed."

"Not Nellie and Gus? Oh, no!"

"I'm afraid so."

Flo had a few pithy words of her own to say, while Jess stared at Devlin with growing fury. "You say the gunmen got away? We have to go after them!"

"I intend to. I'm riding out in a minute to search the mountains for them. I only came back to hire another horse and pick up a bedroll and more ammunition."

"I'm going with you," Jess declared, already tugging off her apron.

Devlin's grim expression turned flint-eyed. "No, you're not, Jess. I'm riding alone. This is no job for a woman."

"This is no job for a lone man, either. You need help— and I can shoot. You'll need an extra gun if you have to go up against three of them. And there's no one else you can ask on such short notice, at least not anyone we could trust."

"Maybe, but you'll only be more trouble for me. I don't want to have to worry about you."

"You won't. I can take care of myself."

"Not in a situation like this," Devlin declared. "It's far too dangerous."

"What about the danger to you? It wouldn't be right to ask you to risk your life for us and not give you all the help I can."