Heart of an Outlaw *First in the Crane Gang series*

Chapter Thirty-One

          

Chapter Thirty-One

 

          Jeb didn’t waste time on breathing or thinking as he raced back toward camp with Gill on his heels. His family was in trouble. He’d left them alone or ten minutes and something terrible had happened. Someone was dying…

          Jeb could feel it in his bones.

          “Look out!” Gill’s voice reached his ears less than a second before Gill grabbed him from behind and threw him down. The sound of a bullet striking flesh echoed through the air and Jeb turned his head quickly as he crashed into the ground and saw bright red blood soaking through the blue sleeve of Gill’s shirt.

          “You’re hurt!” Jeb exclaimed, his heart skittering to a halt in his chest.

         

          Gill was pale but his expression wasn’t one of pain—instead his eyes were wide and he looked as if he’d seen a ghost as he raised his gun and fired a shot. Jeb’s gaze followed the path of the bullet and he saw the man fall—a man who’d been trying to kill him. A man who had shot Gill instead. “Not as bad as that bastard,” Gill mumbled. He reached out and took Jeb’s hand, yanking him to his feet. “Let’s get to camp, Jeb. This is some serious trouble… that damn bastard was a Ranger.”

          Jeb’s blood froze. A Ranger? Rangers had found them?

          “Are you sure?”

          “His name was Raymond Donavan and he used to spit in my food and call me a negro every chance he got. Hell yeah I’m sure.”

          More gunfire. More raised voices. More cries. Jeb decided this conversation could wait.

          Gill clearly came to the same decision and the two men raced to camp. “Over here!” Pete yelled from behind the wagon. Jeb and Gill ran for the cover it provided as four Rangers attempted to flank around them only to be forced back to find cover of their own by the bullets sent in their direction.

          “Where’s Billy?” Jeb demanded, taking count of his gang members.

          Tears were streaming down Jane’s face. “He’s over there… by the fire… he didn’t stand a chance. They shot him through the back.”

          Jeb’s entire world stopped in that instant. His uncle was dead. His uncle who had taken him in after his parents had died. His uncle who had only come along on this mission of Jeb’s to see that no harm came to his nephews.

          “What do we do, Jeb?” Willie demanded, firing off two blind shots with his twin revolvers just to keep the Rangers from circling.

          Jeb froze. He had no idea what to do. They were essentially surrounded. His uncle was dead. None of this was supposed to happen! Hell, Jeb and his gang had never, not once, killed anyone while they’d been looting ranches. They made it a point to leave nothing more than a few headaches behind them.