The Long Trail (The McCabes Book 1) by Brad Dennison (microsoft ebook reader .TXT) 📗

As they rode, they could hear the report of the Sharps cutting through the night. Josh, from the rooftop, Zack figured. Then another. It looked like one rider fell.

The two groups of raiders converged one hundred yards from the ranch house and charged in as one large mass, and the night exploded with gunfire, from the raiders and the house and bunkhouse.

“Fire!” Zack called out, and with pistols blazing, he and his men charged into the right flank of the raiders.

Fred had repositioned himself at the kitchen doorway, with orders to open fire on any riders who managed to escape Zack and his men. Of course, once the raiders lost their torches, distinguishing them from the others would be impossible in the darkness, so Fred had orders to simply shoot anyone approaching the kitchen doorway. Johnny had instructed everyone to avoid the back of the house, so Fred would know anyone he saw would be a raider.

Johnny and his men were returning fire as bullets from the raiders struck the front wall of the house and the porch, and a couple parlor windows shattered, scattering glass across the floor. Johnny was crouching behind a window beside the door, from which he could see Zack and his men charging into the raiders. The night was alight with dancing torches, the flashing of guns discharging, and he could hear the gunfire, and the screams of men dying.

Dusty was at a window to the other side of the door, and Johnny called over to him, “Don’t scatter your shots. Make each one count. Save your ammo.”

Raiders who had escaped the attack from Zack and his men charged into the ranch yard between the bunkhouse and the main house. Johnny had positioned a couple of Zack’s men in the bunkhouse windows, along with the hand who had ridden to the line camp with Josh and Long. In the main house, Johnny and Dusty were firing from the parlor windows, and Hunter from Ginny’s bedroom. They all caught the raiders in a crossfire. Johnny held a Winchester in his hands, firing rapidly and jacking away the empties, and Dusty had his Spencer.

One man’s horse reared out of panic, but he stood to full height in the stirrups regardless and brought his torch back to throw it onto the house roof. Josh already had the Sharps to his shoulder with the hammer cocked back, searching for a target in the melee below, and found the man with the torch. Josh fired, and the man fell backward, rolling over the rump of his horse and to the ground.

A bullet burned the side of Josh’s left shoulder – he was not sure which direction it had come from. He turned quickly, then realized he was over-compensating and tried to adjust, but was too late to keep from toppling over the front of the peak. He reached out wildly for a handhold, but to no avail. The rifle clattered away from him along the roof and disappeared below. Josh rolled onto his back and scrambled madly with his feet, trying to dig his heels into the shingles and slow his descent. But he managed to slow it only slightly.

He went over the edge of the roof, and landed with bone-jarring severity on the hard packed earth below, rolling in an attempt to break his fall, but still finding the wind knocked from him.

He lied still for a moment, trying to force air back into his lungs. He had a mouthful of dust, and his hat was gone. It apparently had separated itself from him somewhere between the roof’s peak and the ground. His ears were filled with the roar of gunfire, and a riderless horse raced past him.

He could feel both arms and legs, and there seemed to be no real pain – he had broken an arm once and knew how an injury like that felt. He decided any further checking for injuries would have to wait, and forced himself to his feet and moved at a limping sprint for the corner of the house by Aunt Ginny’s bedroom, discovering sharp pain in his left knee as he ran.

Once behind corner of the house, he flattened his back against the wall and drew his pistol. He peered back from around the corner at the battle. A rider had apparently seen him afoot and was riding toward the corner of the house. Josh brought his arm to full extension, and with one shot from his Colt Navy dislodged the man from the saddle.

From his window, Dusty had seen Josh fall, but could do nothing to help without charging face-first into the raiders. One rider charged after Josh, but then was knocked from his saddle from a bullet that came from Josh’s direction, so Dusty figured Josh must have survived the fall.

Three riders galloped off to the right beyond Dusty’s sight, and Dusty thought they might be trying for the east side of the house to see if it was unprotected, which it was.

“The east side!” Johnny called out, showing his thinking was moving along the same path as Dusty’s. “Cover it while I cover the front!”

Dusty went to the window nearest Pa’s desk at the wall to his right. He had no time to open it. Raising his rifle like a club, he drove the stock through the glass, then readied the gun for firing as the three riders outside completed their ride along the east side of the house, whirled their horses around, and charged at the windows.

One raised a torch, and Dusty knew the intention was to throw it through a window and start the house burning. Dusty squeezed off a shot from his Spencer, and caught the rider in the stomach. The man folded and fell from the saddle, the torch going with him.

A second rider fired a shot toward Dusty’s window, which sent Dusty ducking.

The bullet caught Johnny in the ribcage, spinning him around. Before he could fully regain his