over him if you’re a mind to, as well, although I’ll tell you now that he ain’t too happy you’re here.”
It was that bit of information that gave Eulis the strength he needed.
“That’s all right,” Eulis said. “He doesn’t have all that much time left to be pissed off about anything.”
Sheriff Wells grinned. Damned if he didn’t like this preacher more with every minute. He disappeared into the back.
Eulis was shaking. His belly was rolling and he needed to throw up. But he wouldn’t let himself or his family down. And when the door opened a few minutes later, he came face to face with the man who’d changed his world.
Kiowa Bill took one look at the man in the suit, and then the book he was holding, and spit.
“I told you I didn’t want no goddamned preacher,” he muttered, and gave Eulis a hard, angry stare.
Eulis looked at the handcuffs on his wrists and the leg irons on his ankles, then straight at the scar. It separated one side of his face from the other in a long, puckering line. It was obvious to Eulis that he’d done Kiowa Bill great harm. If only he’d stayed and finished the job, a lot of people would still be alive today. Then he reminded himself that he’d only been twelve.
“What the hell are you starin’ at?” Kiowa Bill asked.
Eulis heard the echo of his own childish voice. I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you pay. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he opened his bible and started out the door with the lawman and the outlaw at his heels.
The sun was warm upon Eulis’s face. Off to his left he heard a horse whinny. Somewhere in the crowd that had gathered, a baby cried. The sound carried over the chatter of voices, chilling Eulis’s soul. His little brother had died crying. He wanted Kiowa Bill to die scared. He started to pray, loudly, fervently.
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”
Kiowa Bill cursed. “Damn it, Sheriff, shut him up. Ain’t I got any say in the way that I die?”
Wells gave the outlaw a hard look. “I reckon you’ve got about as much say so comin’ as what you gave to the people you murdered.”
Kiowa Bill hunched his shoulders and kept on walking. No need to look up. There was nothing to see but the waiting noose.
Eulis’s voice soared above the quieting crowd.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”
For the first time in his adult life, Kiowa Bill Handlin was helpless. The preacher’s words rang loudly in his ears. Everything was suddenly acute.
The warmth of the sun upon his face.
The sound of his footsteps as he moved along the ground.
The jingle of the chains that bound his hands and feet.
The scent of his own sweat.
It smelled of salt and of fear.
“Watch your step,” the sheriff said, and tightened his grip on the outlaw’s arm as they started up the steps to the waiting noose.
Eulis’s voice droned on. Persistently pushing every nerve Bill Handlin had.
“I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me…”
Kiowa Bill’s eyes narrowed angrily. Fear no evil? Hell, he’d done evil all his life. He wasn’t stupid. There wasn’t a damn thing on this earth that could give him comfort. They were going to stretch a rope around his neck and then drop the floor from beneath his feet. He was going to kick and sway until his face turned purple and his neck finally broke.
Comfort? Hell. He needed a gun and a fast horse.
Up two steps. Then three, then another and another until they were standing on the platform.
Eulis’s voice rolled out across the crowd. The only passage he’d ever memorized from the bible was standing him in good stead.
“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies…”
Kiowa Bill glared at the preacher. “Shut up,” he muttered. “Shut the hell up.”
Eulis turned. His face was pale. His eyes were red-rimmed and blazing with a fire that made the outlaw step back.
“Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over…”
Kiowa Bill suddenly shuddered. Something was wrong here.
Eulis’s nostrils flared as he met the outlaw’s hard gaze without flinching.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life…”
“I don’t want no more prayin’,” he muttered.
Eulis’s head was pounding. The rage in him was so strong he could taste it.
“And I will dwell in the house of the