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He grabbed it and held it over his head.
“Don’t you dare!” Mercy called out, sticking her head out from behind her post.
He almost rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not?” he shouted back to her.
Oops. Josiah’s men had noticed his appearance into their skirmish. Two of them mounted their horses and ran off. Cowardly, but smart of them. The one firing at Mercy stayed behind the barrel he was using for protection, though he hardly needed it. Two others, after a slight hesitation, headed his way. They must have noticed he wasn’t armed, or they wouldn’t have dared. Or so he’d like to think. He shook his head. He was starting to believe in his own legend.
He got a better grip on the stool and raised it again.
“I use that!” Mercy said, coming out from behind her post long enough to get a shot off in the general direction of the men coming toward him. The shot hit the ground at his feet.
“Aim for the other guys!” he shouted, smashing the stool against the ground.
“I am!”
He shook his head. That woman was going to be the death of him.
He picked up two of the stool legs, which were now adequately sharp weapons, and held them up to show her with a grin. “See, nowIcan use it.”
He ducked just before the fist aimed at his face made contact. He swung with one of his stool legs, bashing the man over the back of the head. The man dropped to the ground, facedown, and didn’t move.
One down.
“Where’s Sunshine?” Gray called out, slowly turning in a circle, trying to keep both of his other assailants in his line of sight.
“Over here!” Jason’s strained voice rang out.
Gray risked a glance in the general direction. Jason grappled with another of Josiah’s men. One of them held a gun, though Gray couldn’t tell which, as whoever didn’t have it tried to wrestle it from the one who did.
“Quit playing with that gun and go help Mercy!”
“Working on it!” Jason grunted.
“I don’t need help!” Mercy said, her words breaking off in a yelp as another shot splintered the post near her head. “Stop doing that!”
Gray chuckled, wondering if she really expected the man who was shooting at her to listen and mind like a good little schoolboy, or if she just couldn’t help being bossy. He’d also been about to argue her whole refusal-of-help argument, but the shot had made his point for him fairly well. Plus, he was a little busy. The mean bald one on his right chose that moment to lunge right as the smelly bearded guy on his left lifted his gun to get off a shot.
Gray threw his last stool leg at Bearded One like a knife, grinning in satisfaction as the sharp end of the wood sunk into the man’s wrist, making him drop his gun with a shriek. Bearded One clutched his hand and ran off. Bald One’s fist crashed against Gray’s jaw before he could celebrate too much.
He staggered. “Ow!” he yelled, holding a hand to his jaw. “That hurt!”
The man stopped, frowning. Gray could almost see the man’s confused thoughts of “well, yeah” crossing his face before Gray flung his hand—and the apple he’d stashed in his pocket—with all his might. The apple found its mark right between Bald One’s eyes with a satisfyingcrunch. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he joined the first man on the ground.
Gray glanced at them with a satisfied grin. “I took care of my three!” he yelled out. In case Sunshine was keeping count.
“Great,” Jason grunted, still wrestling with his one assailant. He finally shoved against the man and brought his knee up, plunging it into the man’s groin.
Gray grimaced and bent over, protecting his own tender bits out of reflex.
Jason’s opponent crumpled to the ground, curling around his aching nether regions with anguished yips.
Gray had to admit, he was pretty proud of himself. He’d managed to dispatch all three opponents without killing anyone. Defeated his enemy with his retirement record of zero body count intact. Of course, there was still the man shooting at Mercy. Now that Gray could get a good look at him, and the murderous intent on his face, a flash of hot anger spiked through him. Fists and knees were one thing. Warning shots to keep someone pinned in place might have even been tolerable. But shooting at a woman—hiswoman—with the obvious intent to harm her was something else entirely.
Mercy popped out from behind her post and got off one more shot, which must have gotten close enough to spook the ruffian who’d had her pinned, because after a quick look around the courtyard—and a very brief moment of eye contact with Gray as he advanced on him—the man gave a high-pitched whistle to call his horse, mounted, and raced away. The few remaining men—well, the conscious ones—mounted and followed.
Gray couldn’t help a disappointed sigh. They’d bring more trouble when they came back. Sometimes killin’ had its uses.
Chapter Ten
