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“For a hundred dollars?” Gray snorted. “Not worth the trouble for anyone worth their salt—nor the risk of near certain death by me.”
“That doesn’t mean that a few might not give it a try,” Preacher said.
Gray shrugged. “Possibly. If they do, they’ll be just as easily dispatched.”
“Gray,” Mercy said, covering his hand with her own. “You can’t be so indifferent about this. This is your life we’re talking about.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m aware of that, Mercy. More than you are. As you say, this ismylife we’re talking about. And dealing with this type of thing has been my life for quite a while. I’ve done okay until now.”
Her browed furrowed, but she didn’t argue more.
“No one is debating your experience or expertise,” Doc said. “You wouldn’t be sitting here if you weren’t good at what you do. But there’s also the consideration of what this means for the town.”
Gray frowned. “Meaning?”
Preacher leaned forward, his hands curled around his cup, though he’d had yet to take a sip. “This man didn’t come for you on your own land. He came into town. Walked right into the blacksmith’s shop. If you weren’t so good at what you do, as Doc says, the outcome might have been much different. And you might not have been the only one affected.”
Gray’s frown deepened and he sat back. They weren’t wrong. Had he been a second slower…had the gunman aimed wrong or had Tom gotten in the way…it might not have been Gray or his assailant lying bleeding out in the dirt but Tom.
He was used to his life being in danger. It was just the way things were. But his presence had never put anyone else in danger before. It didn’t sit well with him. Not at all. The question was what to do about it.
He glanced at Mercy, a ball of ice forming in his gut at the thought of the probable best solution. A step he didn’t want to take.
“I don’t think anything needs to be, or even can be, done right this moment,” Mrs. DuVere said. “There are too many unknowns right now. We don’t know if this man was hired for this specific job or if this was a bounty that was spread around. We don’t know if he found you on his own or if he was told where you were.”
“True,” Preacher said. “If he found you on his own, there’s no reason to assume anyone else will.”
“Yes, but if he was told…” Martha said.
Mercy nodded. “Then that would mean someone knows where Gray is. And that person might send more men here.”
Gray shrugged. “We know who sent him. Josiah Banff.”
They were all quiet for a second until Doc sighed. “I would say that’s the most likely scenario. But we can’t know for sure. I presume you have other possible enemies out there who might want you dead?”
Gray didn’t have to think too long before he nodded. People wanting him dead was a given. Though no one had resorted to paying for it to be done before. And for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anyone else who would go to the trouble and expense. Aside from Josiah. But he couldn’t rule it out, either.
“Until we do know for sure who is behind this,” Doc said, “we won’t know if there are more coming. So, the only thing we can really do is stay vigilant.”
Preacher nodded. “We do what we’ve always done in Desolation. We look out for each other. Keep an eye on strangers. Report anything suspicious to the council.”
They all nodded in agreement and then talk turned to more social matters.
Gray, however, did not agree with them. Therewassomething he could do. He wasn’t going to sit around waiting to see if another bounty hunter was waiting to ambush him.
He would confront Josiah directly.
Mercy’s gaze bore into him, and he slowly raised his gaze to meet hers. The force of those ice-blue eyes struck him hard enough to take his breath away.
She leaned closer, so only he could hear her. “I know what you’re thinking. And I forbid it, Gray Woodson. Do you hear me?”
He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck to bring her close enough to brush a kiss against her forehead, then her lips.
“I hear you,” he murmured.
But that didn’t mean he was going to listen.
Chapter Twenty
