The two deputies left the dead gunman in the doorway of the line-shack, and the bound one cursing in the other room. Then they cooked up a breakfast of ham and eggs and sourdough bread, with a big pot of coffee.

    The third member of Leonis’ trio of roughnecks was still sitting in the dog pen beside the back steps, hands tied behind him.

    It was mid-morning now, and flies were beginning to gather on the bloody shirt of the corpse at the front door; but that didn’t bother Deputy Cal MacLamond or his partner, Deputy Clyde Grierson. In the late war, both of them had often eaten their rations in the company of dead men.

(from AMARGOSA AMBUSH, available on Kindle.)