An Outlaw's Weakness*Fifth in Crane Gang series*

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Preston had never been so happy to see something in all his life as he was to see a town in the distance. Night was falling and he hadn't been looking forward to another night on the ground. He'd been wandering for over a week and had begun to think he was going to run out of food and die of starvation before he ever found a town.

Life on horseback wasn't quite the adventure he'd thought it would be. Sure, it had been exciting the first several nights when he'd been unable to start a fire and had been stuck eating nothing but jerky and hardtack before sleeping in the dark. And he had jumped for joy the fourth night when he'd finally succeeded in starting that fire and enjoyed a supper of beans.

But his back ached, his backside was killing him, and all he wanted was to have a real meal in his gut and a few nights in a real bed. And Preston was real lonely. Maybe he should have listened to his papa and stayed home... maybe he wasn't cut out for this kind of life.

Preston rode into the town and swallowed hard. Maybe he really wasn't cut out for this kind of life. This town wasn't like the one next to his family's ranch. This town was run down. The few buildings that were standing were barely managing to do that.

Music and the din of voices was coming from a saloon. Kerosene lamps lit up the front of a building claiming to be a hotel. The building labeled Mercantile was currently closed as was the building labeled diner. Looked like that hot meal was going to have to wait.

There was a rickety corral and barn beside the hotel and Preston led his horse there.

Slipping from the saddle, he took the horses' reins and walked to the door on the barn. "Hello?"

An old grizzled man suddenly appeared out of the darkness causing Preston to let out a yelp and jump back. "What do you want, boy?"

Taking a moment to steady his breathing, Preston pointed to his horse. "Can I put my horse up here tonight?"

The old man looked him up and down before scowling. "You need to just ride on. This ain't a town for the likes of you."

Preston agreed. He really didn't want to stay here. But adventure and new experiences was what he'd left home for. So, he squared his shoulders. "How much to put my horse up for the night?"

The old man grunted and scratched at the dirty beard on his cheek. "Seventy-five cents for the night. That includes me feeding him and giving him a good rub down."

Preston nodded. He got into the saddlebags and fished out a money pouch. After grabbing the coins, he put the money pouch back and turned to the old man. "Boy, you gotta be more careful than that! Don't show folks where ya keep your money! There's men in this town that would gladly bash your brains in to have what's in that pouch."

Preston's cheeks heated as he laid the money in the old man's hand. "I'll be just fine," he muttered.

Preston removed his saddlebags from his mare and put them over his shoulder, staggering a bit under the weight. He could still hear the old man chuckling as he headed for the hotel.

Once he was tucked away in his hotel room, Preston sighed. The room wasn't much and the bed was rather small but it would work and it would probably feel better than a blanket on the ground.

He was about to pull a book from his saddlebags and settle down for the night when he stopped himself. If all he was going to do was read books, he might as well go back home.

There was a saloon here. Preston had never gone to a saloon. He'd never really been interested and his parents hadn't been saloon going men so he hadn't gone.

He was going in one tonight.

Preston paused in the mirror. He looked at his new gun belt around his hips and frowned. If he wore a gun that might end up putting him into a gun fight... Surely not wearing a gun was the safer option while going to the saloon. If he was unarmed the chance of anyone trying to shoot him would be less, wouldn't it?

It made sense in his mind at least.

Then again, his family never went anywhere without their guns. But then they were all better shots than he was. Preston knew how to use one, of course, but he'd never taken the time to truly get good with one.

He sighed with annoyance at himself. He was leaving the gun in the room. He didn't know how to use it well enough to risk getting in a gun fight with the thing.

Preston unhooked the gun belt and tossed it to the bed before adjusting his brown vest over his blue shirt and heading for the door. Nerves were eating his stomach as he approached the saloon.

He was nearly knocked off his feet by two drunken men who came stumbling through the swinging doors. "What where you're going, boy!" One of them bellowed.

Preston swallowed hard and adjusted his glasses. "Sorry sir."

Both men had been laughing as they walked away. Feeling a bit more unsure, Preston took a deep breath and walked through those swinging doors.

***

Xavier Black sipped at his beer and settled deeper into the shadows. His eyes scanned the saloon watching for the man he was after. This bounty would earn him five-hundred dollars giving him plenty of money to wander on for a while.

He'd always been a wandering man, a rootless man. Born to a whore, with no idea who his father might be, Xavier had left home at the age of twelve and learned to fend for himself. It hadn't been easy and he'd had to learn to be hard and self-reliant. Weakness was a death sentence, caring was for fools, and all a man needed was himself.

He took another drink of his beer and frowned when a man entered the saloon. He was small both in height and build, almost scrawny. With all that pale skin on his smooth face and those wide blue eyes he stuck out like a sore thumb against the rough crowd that filled the saloon.

Xavier tore his eyes away from the man and retuned his attention to the door. He was on the lookout for a stagecoach robber who had been unlucky enough to earn a wanted poster.

A short time later his eyes were once again drawn to the barn when the pale man took a swig of whiskey and began to cough uncontrollably. What was that man doing here? Hell, he didn't even have a gun! This lawless town was not a place that man should be.

Deciding that wasn't his problem and realizing the man he was after probably wasn't going to show up tonight, Xavier downed the rest of his beer and stood. He was making his way to the door when he saw the pale man making his way toward a poker table, only to be shoved aside by a large bellied man heading toward the bar.

The pale man stumbled several steps and would have fallen if Xavier hadn't grabbed his arm to steady him.

Those big blue eyes looked up at him from above a shaky smile. "Thanks."

Xavier merely grunted, released his hold and made his way out the door. He found another shadow to settle down in, lit a cigarette, and continued his watch.

After some time had passed, Xavier was on his way back to the hotel when noise from the alley beside the saloon drew his attention. He glanced that way and saw the pale man being shoved back and forth between a group of sneering men.

Xavier tried to tell himself it wasn't any of his damn business and that the pale man was just going to have to learn the hard way what happened to a man who went where he didn't belong...

Then he heard one of the men say, "Yeah, he's a nice tiny thing. I'm gonna enjoy shoving my cock in this one."

Xavier bristled, remembering the look of those big blue eyes as they'd gazed up at him so unsure and innocent. Letting out a growl, he realized he was going to have to intervene. The pale man needed his help and that only served to piss him off.

Adjusting his gun belt, Xavier tossed down his cigarette and headed their way.