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Gray waited until the women excused themselves to deal with matters in the kitchen. Mercy offered to help, as he’d known she would.
The moment she was out of the room, he stood. “Come with me,” he said to the men. And God bless them, not one of them hesitated.
When they were on the porch, Gray turned to them. “Where’s the body?”
“In the shed behind the church,” Preacher said.
Gray nodded and headed in that direction, though he sent Jason to get Birdie from the blacksmith’s.
When they reached the shed, Gray had the men help him drag the body out. None of them asked what he intended to do. And none looked surprised when he asked, “Where is Josiah’s place?”
“Ride southeast. Josiah’s ranch is about six miles out, through the gully and just past the end of Mercy’s orchard.”
Gray nodded, looking up as Jason walked over to the group with Birdie in tow. Jason glanced down at the body.
“You’re taking him to Josiah’s?” he asked.
Gray led Birdie closer to the body. “Yes.”
The men all exchanged a glance but didn’t argue with him. They all knew damn well Josiah was behind it, no matter how much they muttered about other possibilities. So Gray was going to take Josiah’s gunman back to him and get some answers. Or at the very least issue a few threats of his own.
Except Birdie was having none of it.
Every time Gray tried to bring her closer to the body, she balked. He finally stood right in front of her and wagged his finger in her face. “Listen here, you spoiled nag, you either hold still and behave or there will be no more apples for you.”
She snorted in his face and flipped her head up, knocking off his hat. Disrespectful creature.
“I’ll go with you,” Preacher said. He’d gone to fetch his own horse during Gray’s tussle with Birdie and now brought it over to stand beside the body. “Annie here is used to being around the dead.”
Gray didn’t know what to make of that quiet statement. Of everyone he’d met in town so far, Preacher was the most closed off, the most private. Of course, in his line of work, he probably dealt with the dead frequently, as he’d been the one presiding over their burials. And their deaths often enough if he attended people during their last moments. Whatever his, or his horse’s, experience, Gray was grateful for it. He needed to get the body loaded and gone before Mercy came looking for him.
Jason and Doc started helping him load the body on the back of Preacher’s horse.
“That’s a proper horse,” Gray said to Birdie, pointing at Preacher’s mare.
Jason smiled, coming toward them while the other two men finished securing the body. He reached in his pocket and pulled out an apple, which Birdie snatched from his hand before Gray could object.
“Stop spoiling her,” he said. “She already won’t listen to a word I say.”
“Ah, she’s a good girl,” Jason said, patting her snout.
Preacher mounted his horse and waited for Gray, who nodded at him. But first he turned to Jason.
“Don’t let Mercy follow me,” he said.
Jason’s humor immediately disappeared. They both knew she was going to try.
“I don’t care what you have to do,” Gray continued. “But she doesn’t leave your side. Tie her up if you have to.”
Jason nodded. “I’ll keep her here. And safe.”
Gray nodded, then muttered a curse as the sound of women’s voices floated to them from the front of the church. He quickly mounted as Mercy and Mrs. DuVere rounded the corner and came into sight.
“Gray?” Mercy asked.
“Let’s go,” he said to Preacher.
“Samuel?” Mrs. DuVere said, stepping up to Preacher’s horse.
