“Stay back, Will,” Mac shouted as they approached the cabin.

Will was petrified, his fingers clutching Shanty’s reins too tightly.

But he couldn’t hang back, even though Mac ordered him to. He was part of this posse, and each man had to protect the others. He’d learned that much in the Army. He had to act like a man. He might be scared, but he feared letting Mac or the others down more than injury to himself.

Mama would never forgive him if Mac were wounded or killed. Will knew how much Mama loved Mac—he’d known it all his life. Mac was the most important person in the world to Mama. And Will wasn’t about to let Mac come to harm now.

He urged Shanty down the hill behind Mac.

A shot rang out from the cabin. Mac dismounted, unsheathed his rifle, and dodged behind a tree. “Will,” he called. “Stay here with the horses.” Mac crouched low and crawled forward. Valiente and Shanty squealed behind him, and he hoped Will did as he’d ordered. He couldn’t take time to look.

More shots from the cabin, then Zeke and Albee returned fire. Mac raised his head above a downed tree log and saw Johnson peeking out the window. He hadn’t seen the man in almost eighteen years, but he recognized him. Mac aimed his rifle and fired.

Johnson ducked, then returned Mac’s fire. More bullets from Zeke and Albee.

Albee rushed down the hill and took cover behind a tree just outside the clearing. “Come out, Johnson. We’re here to arrest you for the attack on Jenny McDougall and her family.”

Johnson fired at the deputy. Zeke, Mac, and Albee shot back. Johnson let off another round.

Mac heard a moan from his right. Was it Albee or Zeke? He fired, then scuttled toward the moan. More shots from either Albee or Zeke.

After a pause, more shots from Johnson.

A crash on his left, slightly behind him.

“Will?” Mac turned to look.

“I’m fine. I think Albee’s shot.” Will raised a bit and fired at Johnson. “I’ll cover you.”

Mac shook his head. How’d Will learn about covering a man in a gun battle? “Stay here,” he told his son.

The moaning stopped, but Mac worked his way in that direction until he halted next to Albee. The deputy gasped, then his eyes glazed over, staring sightlessly until Mac closed them.

Just then Zeke approached Mac from the other direction. “Johnson ain’t shooting so fast now,” Zeke said. “I bet he’s almost out of bullets or maybe wounded. I’m going in. Cover me. When I signal, stop shooting.”

From right behind Mac, Will said, “Got it.” Damn it, the lad hadn’t obeyed—he’d followed Mac.

Mac and Will shot volleys at Johnson, and Johnson took single shots in return.

Zeke ran to the corner of the cabin. He waved. Mac and Will stopped shooting, and Zeke plunged through the doorway. A cry sounded, then Zeke pulled Johnson out of the shack with an arm around the villain’s neck.

As Will was reloading, he wondered whether he was firing on his own father. But he couldn’t do anything else. He was part of the posse, and his job was to cover Zeke.

He’d seen Deputy Albee go down. That’s when he’d rushed toward Mac. He couldn’t let either Mac or Zeke get hurt. They were part of his life—Johnson was not. Even if Johnson was his father by blood, the man was evil.

Will once told Joel Pershing he didn’t have to be like his drunken father. Zeke and Joel had the same father, and Zeke wasn’t a drunkard. Will didn’t have to be evil like Johnson or the other men who’d raped Mama.

As Will watched Mac close Albee’s eyes, he swallowed a huge lump in his throat. Mac was the man he wanted to be like. He wished Mac were his father in truth, but Mac had raised him, and that’s all that mattered.

Weapon now ready, Will fired at the cabin until Zeke’s signal to stop. When Zeke dragged Johnson into the clearing, Will followed Mac toward them.

Mac tramped down the hill toward Zeke and Johnson with his rifle trained on Johnson. Will followed behind him.

“Go inside the cabin and look for something to tie him up with,” Mac told Will. He kept his gun on Johnson.

“You’re McDougall, ain’t you?” Johnson said, spitting. “Ain’t seen you since you was in Missouri. You gonna kill me like you killed my pa?”

Will came out of the cabin, a ragged rope in hand.

“Tie him up, Will,” Mac said.

“Well, young Will,” Johnson sneered. “You think you’re gonna tie up your own pa?”

Will said nothing but shot a look at Mac.

“Go on, Will,” Mac said. “Tie him up.”

Will bound Johnson’s hands. Then, after Zeke threw the scoundrel to the ground and held his legs, Will bound Johnson’s feet.

Zeke checked the knots, then nodded at Mac. “He ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Where’s the sheriff?” Mac asked, lowering his rifle but keeping an eye on Johnson.

“Who knows?” Zeke said. “Maybe got held up by Abercrombie. Or a rotten log.”

“What’s next?” Johnson taunted. “You gonna shoot me?”

Mac looked at Will. “What do you think, Will? Should we kill him now? He murdered Albee, and you know what he did to your mother.”

Chapter 66: Will's Decision

“Kill him?” Will startled at Mac’s question. Why had Mac asked him what to do?

He thought about all the trouble Johnson had caused. First, raping Mama all those years ago, and heaven knew what other crimes he’d committed in Missouri. This year, the man attacked Mama and Will in their own home and threatened the entire family. He was a Secessionist deserter. He’d hidden out for months in Oregon, probably stealing from farmers for his sustenance. And now he’d killed Deputy Albee.

But if the posse shot Johnson now, while he was trussed on the ground, it would be cold-blooded vigilantism. Akin to murder of their own. Will wanted Johnson gone from their lives forever—and he dearly wished he’d never known about the man’s existence. But did his evil deeds justify the three of them killing him now?