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up a few times, but I didn’t let her. Other than that, it’s been pretty quiet.”
    Rosa started to speak, but was cut short by a warning glare from Clint. She closed her mouth and even tried to press her head back further against the grass when she saw Clint kneel down and lean in closer to her.
    Keeping one hand on his Colt, Clint used the other hand to pat her down. Since her blouse was off both shoulders, there wasn’t much of a need to search too high. He placed his hand flat against her torso and felt quickly around and between her breasts. He moved his hand down to feel her waist and then patted along both legs. His touch was quick and precise without lingering in any one spot for too long. Only after he felt for a holster or scabbard in her boots did Clint relax.
    Just to be certain, Clint sifted his fingers through her hair. He found a single decorative comb toward the back of her head, which he removed and tossed away.
    â€œAll right,” Clint said to Johnny. “Let her up.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œIf she’s got something I didn’t find, she won’t be able to get to it before one of us puts her down.”
    Nodding, Johnny eased back and took a few shuffling steps away from her. He still kept his rifle to his shoulder and his sights on Rosa.
    â€œThat doesn’t look too comfortable,” Clint said. “Why don’t you sit up?”
    After glancing to Johnny to make sure he wasn’t going to shoot, Rosa sat up and shifted until she was fairly comfortable. “Thank you,” she said to Clint.
    â€œDon’t thank me. You’re not out of this yet.”
    Her eyes widened a bit and she recoiled. “I was just along with him, I swear. I didn’t even have a choice.”
    â€œYou were here acting as his lookout,” Clint pointed out. “That makes you an accomplice in anyone’s book.”
    â€œI stayed out here,” she insisted. “I may have shared a bed with him, but I would never take part in a killing.”
    Clint picked up one of the shotgun shells and rolled it in his palm. Since Johnny hadn’t let his guard down yet, Clint took a moment to pull out the innards of the shell and dump them into his hand. “There’s twice the amount of powder in this and no buckshot,” he said. “Not too deadly, but it would make one hell of a noise. Probably loud enough to be heard in town if someone knew what to listen for.”
    â€œSon of a bitch,” Johnny said under his breath. Narrowing his eyes to glare down at Rosa, he snarled, “You were gonna tip that killer off as to when we got here.”
    She was shaking her head before all of Johnny’s accusation had even escaped his lips. “No, I swear! Well . . . that’s what I was supposed to do, but I didn’t have a choice. He would’ve killed me if I didn’t!” The tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now, and her voice was burdened by a growing number of sobs. “He would’ve killed me.”
    Clint hunkered down to her level and looked her in the eyes. He ignored Rosa’s tears, the sobs that wracked her shoulders, and even her desperate pleas. Instead, he focused on her eyes. They were bloodshot and swelling with tears, but still gave him something to work with when he asked, “Why should we believe a damn word you say?”
    â€œBecause it’s the truth.”
    â€œYou’re telling me you couldn’t have just run away rather than lay up here on this hill all by yourself?”
    â€œWhere should I go? I’ve tried running before and he only found me. When he did . . . it was . . . bad.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. “It was real bad. He promised I wouldn’t survive it if I ran again, and I believe him.”
    â€œThat don’t make sense,” Johnny grunted. “Why the hell would an assassin drag around some crying