Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [121]
Necker gave Luke a steady gaze. “Whoever gets the most, wins.”
Duane might not have understood the implication, but Luke did. If he didn’t beat Duane, he wouldn’t be invited in. And clearly, Necker thought he’d fail.
“You know,” Luke said, giving Necker a sardonic look, “I’m going to have to repair every single one of these.”
Necker smiled. “I know.”
The mice. It was payback for the mice.
Necker drew a starting line in the dirt with his heel, then gave each of them enough cartridges to down every line up there. It was an awful lot of ammunition to be toting around unless he was anticipating trouble.
A sense of unease crept up his spine. He’d stood once before at the end of Main with a boy close to Duane’s age. He and his brother might have been shooting out windows and it might have been a different town, but the scenario was exactly the same.
Luke turned to Duane. “You don’t have to do this. You can give me your gun and I’ll do it.”
The boy gave him a knowing smile. “ ’Fraid I might show ya up, Palmer?”
“No, I’m afraid the sheriff might come along and haul you to jail.”
Duane laughed. “Nussbaum? Shoot, he’d probably make us do it over again so he could watch. Ain’t that right, Necker?”
The man didn’t say anything. Just stepped to the side. “Shooters ready?”
Duane placed one foot on the line, then crouched down like a runner. “Ready!”
Necker waited. “Palmer?”
Protect him, Lord. Shaking his arm loose, he toed the line. “Ready.”
“On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . three!”
Gunfire exploded. Wire popped and snapped, then drooped to the ground like a metal weeping willow.
Luke kept pace with Duane, glancing over his shoulder with every reload to assure himself he wasn’t too far ahead. If the sheriff came, he wasn’t about to let the boy take all the blame.
But the sheriff didn’t come. No one did. And when they reached the ending stretch, Luke surged ahead in order to beat Duane and secure his position in Comer’s gang.
“Come on, boys!” Necker shouted, racing up behind them. “I hear the cavalry!”
Distant shouts and footfalls set them to running down back streets, through alleyways, and across backyards, not stopping until they reached the lumberyard on the edge of town.
Hands on his knees, Duane hunched over, breathing hard. “Who won?” he gasped.
Luke fell against a tree, pretending he was winded, then closed his eyes, listening. No one was coming. Whoever had been pursuing them hadn’t put up much of a chase.
“Palmer won,” Necker said in between breaths. “For a minute there, I thought he was gonna let you win.”
“Let me win?” Duane was still bent over, but glanced up at this remark.
Luke kept his expression neutral.
Necker studied him with speculation. “You been holdin’ out on us, Palmer?”
He shook his head. “I want in. That’s all.”
A long moment passed, their wheezes slowing bit by bit.
“I ain’t never seen ya shoot like that,” Necker said, not willing to let it go.
“It’s something about getting caught, I guess.” He shrugged, scrambling for a reasonable excuse. “I’m really good when I think someone’s coming.”
Necker chuckled. “Well, there’s always someone a’comin’. So if you can keep yer focus, then yer in.”
The first genuine smile of the night formed on Luke’s face. “Really?”
“Yep. I think you’ll do right nicely.”
Duane punched the air. “Woo-hoo! Can I tell him?”
“Go ahead.”
The boy looked both ways, then lowered his voice. “We’re robbin’ the 4:53 to Houston tomorry.”
Luke’s pulse picked up. “Tomorrow?”
“Yep. It’s all decided.”
“Whose place are we meeting at?” he asked.
“Nobody’s,” Necker answered. “Too dangerous. So each of us will leave at different times and ride to the designated spot.”
“Sounds good. Tell me when to leave and where to go, and I’ll be there.”
Necker shook his head. “You can ride with me. Nobody will think nothing if it’s just the two of us. Meet me at my place come noon tomorrow.”
Frustration gnawed at Luke. If he could find out where they were to rendezvous,