The air grew colder. To the left, the drop-off into the Animas River was steep and terrifying. The water below a white torrent of snowmelt. Pritchard's horse was fast, but it was panicked. It slipped on a patch of ice hidden under the mud.
The horse stumbled, going down to one knee. Pritchard was thrown. He hit the ground hard. Rolling toward the edge of the cliff. He scrambled up, his fine coat covered in muck, his face wild.
He reached for the pistol in his belt. Jonah pulled his horse up, sliding to a halt 10 yard away. He was off the saddle before the horse stopped moving. He drew his colt. Drop it," Jonah yelled.
Pritchard held the gun, his hand shaking. He looked at Jonah. He saw the mountain man, the savage, the soldier he had tried to shame. "You won't shoot," Pritchard sneered, though his voice cracked. "You want to be the hero, don't you?
You want to prove you are civilized. " Jonah cocked the hammer. The sound was loud in the canyon. "I don't have to prove anything to you," Jonah said. "Drop the gun. " Pritchard laughed. It was a jagged, broken sound.
I own this town. I built it. You are nothing. You are just a killer who got lucky. He raised the pistol.
Jonah could have killed him. He had the shot. It would have been clean. It would have been easy. It would have ended the threat forever.
The old Jonah, the scout who followed orders, might have done it. But Jonah looked at the man shivering in the mud. He looked at the pathetic small creature that was stripped of his money and his lies. Jonah didn't fire. He stepped forward.
The barrel of his Colt never wavering. "Shoot me! " Pritchard screamed. "Do it! Make me a martyr. " "No! " Jonah said. He rushed the gap.
Pritchard fired, but his hand was shaking so badly the shot went wide, hitting the dirt. Before he could [ __ ] the hammer again, Jonah was on him. Jonah slammed into him, knocking the wind out of him. He knocked the gun away. He grabbed Pritchard by the lapels of his expensive coat and slammed him into the mud.
He held him there, his forearm pressing down on Pritchard's throat. Pritchard thrashed, clawing at Jonah's face, screaming obscenities. Jonah held him. He didn't strike him. He didn't strangle him.