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

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Three

While Gill wanted to cry out with joy that his best friend was still alive and well, he knew that now wasn't quite the right time. Instead, Gill focused on cutting his hands free. Once that was done, Gill tore the sack from his face to see what the hell was going on.

All around him was chaos. Men running for cover even as they pulled their guns and searched frantically for a target they could not see.

"Who fired those shots?" Major Winfield demanded, well hidden behind a support beam on the gallows.

"Probably them damn renegade Indians," one of his men who'd been attacked with the Governor replied.

Gill scurried unnoticed to his mother and undid her hands before going to Jeb and cutting loose his bonds as well. "Gilliam, what the hell is going on?" Jeb whispered, tearing the burlap sack from his head.

Gill smiled and held up the knife. "We have friends in here, Jebidiah. And I reckon our friends are outside coming for us as well."

Jeb instantly grabbed Gill's wrist and let out a curse. "You're cut all to hell."

Gill rolled his eyes at the overprotective man. "Better that than dead," he reminded him.

Gill turned his focus to the Major's men. They were all hiding behind one object or another and peeking toward the gate on the wall where the shots had seemed to come from.

"One of you climb up in the guard tower and see what's going on out there," Major Winfield ordered his cowering men.

"I don't think that's a good idea," one of them countered. "These damn renegade Indians seem to mean business."

While Major Winfield and his men argued over climbing the guard tower, Gill urged his mother and Jebidiah toward the edge of the gallows they were currently crouched under.

"Who's doing that shooting?" Maria demanded of her son as they moved. "My heart wants to say it's Pete since he's the best I know with a rifle but my mind reminds me that he's dead."

"It's Pete, mama," Gill assured her. "I always have known when that gap-toothed brain-addled man is nearby."

"Does that come from being attached at the hip?" Jeb asked.

"Pete says it's from being attached at the heart." Gill shrugged. "I just say it's because he smells that bad. But not as bad as bigfoot McGee..."

"Is now really the time to be having a conversation about scents?" Maria inquired.

Gill fell silent. Hell, there was still a good chance they'd all die today but he couldn't shake the joy he felt at knowing that his best friend was still alive—and the rest of the gang probably was too.

"Why don't you three stop right where you are?" a man, big and burly and one of the men who had helped the Major hold his mother hostage, warned as the trio slid out from under the gallows.

Gill stayed crouched with that knife clutched in his hand and prepared to pounce. Even with that gun aimed at him, if Gill could move quickly enough, he could kill the giant bastard before he managed a shot..... hopefully.

His plan was halted when cries of surprise rang out and all eyes turned toward the gate to see a burlap sack hurled over the top from outside. The sack landed in the dirt just inside the gate.

The Major's men stared at that sack as if it were a coiled up rattle snake. Slowly one man approached the sack and lifted it in his trembling hands. He pulled out a slip of paper and cleared his throat.