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

Chapter Eight

"Who the hell do you think you are to order us around?" One of the four men sneered.

Gill simply shook his head and walked toward the table. He grabbed one of the three beers Wyatt had had sitting there and sniffed the amber liquid. "I'm nobody," he assured them. "Just a man who wants to drink and relax--I'm sure you feel the same."

"Go to hell, you Negro bastard!" another shouted. He stepped forward with the intention of manhandling Gill but Gill wasn't about to be manhandled.

He swung that beer mug with all his might and it crashed loudly upon the man's skull. The man fell to the floor without so much as a moan and hell broke loose in the saloon.

The remaining three men came for Gill. He grabbed the first by the arm and swung him around knocking him into the second and sending both men stumbling away and crashing through a table. Gill was less prepared for the third who landed a punch to his jaw.

Pain filled him and yet he simply smiled at the man before landing a punch of his own and sending the man flying backward.

The first two men recovered and came charging his way. Gill kicked out and sent one wind-milling backward and colliding with Pete who had just walked in.

"Deal with him!" Gill ordered and without asking why he was supposed to be dealing with the man, Pete began throwing punches and tackled the man to the ground.

One of the men came at Gill with a chair and Gill knocked the chair to the side before grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt and slamming his head down twice on the solid oak counter of the bar.

The bartender simply sighed and moved a bit further down with the box of cups he was currently wiping clean. The spitter was the only man left standing out of the group of bullies as Pete stood and left his unconscious opponent lying on the floor.

Seeing that he was on the losing side and yet obviously not wanting to admit defeat, the man lunged forward. With a crack of bone, Gill caught him by the arm, twisted and turned the man so his back was pressed against Gill's chest with his arm twisted painfully between them.

The man cried out with pain but was unable to get away.

"I believe it's your turn, Wyatt." Gill called out.

Wyatt's brown eyes had been wide as he'd sat at that table and simply watched the entire altercation. He shook his head forcefully at Gill's words and mouthed 'I can't'.

Gill grinned, though it hurt to do so with his swollen, oozing lip. "Sure you can. Now these bastards deserve it. Show this son of a bitch that nobody talks to you like that and gets away with it."

Wyatt stood slowly and stepped forward. The man glared at him and snapped, laughing when Wyatt shrank away. "Don't you worry about him getting loose, Wyatt," Gill assured the timid man as he tightened his hold and the man in his arms cried out with pain. "I've got him held good and tight."

Wyatt nodded and then, quite suddenly, he reared back and spit in the angry man's face. The man began to struggle violently in Gill's arms and Gill could feel him trying desperately to reach his gun. Wyatt was bouncing and laughing and seemed quite proud of himself.

"Are you gonna hit him?" Gill questioned with a grunt when an elbow hit his gut.

Wyatt shook his head, his silent laughter written all over his face. Gill nodded, spun the man in his arms quickly and then knocked him unconscious with a quick thrust of his head.

Gill led Wyatt and Pete to the bar. "We need three new beers," Gill stated to the bartender. "And put them on their tab--" he nodded toward one of the unconscious men. "They agreed to pay."

The bartender simply nodded and poured three glasses, sliding them to the trio before going back to cleaning his cups.

Wyatt pulled his tiny chalkboard from his vest and a piece of chalk from his pocket. Gill waited a moment until the man was done and then read, 'I've never did that befour.'

"Did what?" Gill asked.

Wyatt wiped the board clean with his hand and wrote, 'Fight back.'

Pete frowned. "Is that why we were kicking their asses? Did they give you a hard time?" Wyatt nodded. "What the hell for?" Wyatt pointed toward his dark black skin and then to his mouth and shook his head. Pete grunted. "Bunch of ignorant bastards. I'll kick 'em one more time on the way out the door just to make sure they got the message."

"Yep," Gill agreed, downing a swig of beer. "Nobody messes with a friend of ours. Because if you mess with our friends, you mess with us."

The smile that split Wyatt's face was bright enough to lighten up even the dirty, run down saloon they were sitting in and Gill couldn't help but to smile back.

***

"What happened?" Jeb demanded the moment Gill dismounted his horse back at camp. Gill stiffened at the anger in his tone, but then he shivered and damn near melted into a chocolate puddle right there at Jeb's feet when the man reached out a hand and ran the pad of his thumb tenderly over his split and swollen lip. "Who hit you?" Jeb questioned softly, his green eyes locked on Gill's mouth.

Gill shifted, swallowed hard, hated the hot reaction his blood had to this man's presence and stood there quite unsure how to handle it. Why would Jeb touch him so freely, so tenderly, so possessively, right here where everyone could see?!

Somehow Gill got control of his own actions and pulled away. "It was nothing serious and we took care of it. Didn't we, Wyatt?"

Wyatt nodded and stuck his chest out proudly. "Was someone giving you trouble?" Craig demanded as Jeb continued to keep Gill locked in his predatory gaze. Clearly he still wanted to hear what had happened to Gill's lip.

Gill sighed. "Some folks decided it would be fun to harass Wyatt but Wyatt showed them real quick he was a man you would do best to leave alone. Didn't you Wyatt?"

Wyatt shifted uncertainly until Pete jabbed him with his elbow and then he nodded as he rubbed at his sore ribs. "Thank you for looking after Wyatt," Jane said with a smile as she walked over, though Gill noticed that her smile and gaze lingered longer on Pete than anyone else.

"Gill, I want to talk to you," Jeb stated gruffly.

Gill glanced at him and shrugged, "I'm right here."

Jeb shook his head, turned and began to walk away. He waved his hand for Gill to follow him. "In private."

Gill felt every inch of his body tremble and he spared a quick glance at Pete who shrugged. Gill swallowed hard and for reasons he couldn't begin to understand, he followed after the outlaw who caused him to tremble, shake, boil and self combust with just a glance.