Grigsby glanced at Tatum. He was sweating, but it didn't look like he was going to panic. Not that it mattered. They didn't have a chance. The outlaws were going to kill both of them, but they weren't going to get out without leaving a trail of blood.
Tatum's nod was almost imperceptible, and at that moment thunder cracked loudly. A brilliant bolt of lightning lit up the room - an unspoken signal. Time seemed to slow down, and every detail of the next few seconds registered in Grigsby's mind.
The disbelief in Henderson's eyes when he realized that Grigsby was going to draw. The startled gasp of the man behind him. And then Grigsby's gun was clear of the holster, leaping up and stabbing flames at the men before they could scatter.
Tom Grigsby rode into Clay Creek looking for answers, but he wasn't getting much cooperation. The Double Spur accused the Triple B of rustling, and the Triple B was hiring gunmen. But the ranch losing the most cattle to rustlers was the Triple B. Somebody had to do something or the entire valley was going to be involved in a range war. Grigsby had seen too much fighting, and he was ready to hang up his gun. But he owed a debt to the Double Spur. He had a hunch who was doing the rustling, but what he needed was hard facts. He knew only one way to get them, so he strapped on his gun and headed out into the night.
Tatum's nod was almost imperceptible, and at that moment thunder cracked loudly. A brilliant bolt of lightning lit up the room - an unspoken signal. Time seemed to slow down, and every detail of the next few seconds registered in Grigsby's mind.
