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        Hell, he was gonna be in more than hot water if he didn’t get that medicine to Scott. He had to think straight and get Maryanne Franklin outta his head. And fast. But, oh boy, that wasn’t easy when the smell of her perfume still hung in the air and every time the breeze scattered the leaves in the alley, he heard the rustle of her skirts and … and what in blazes was he meant to tell Murdoch about Jeb Franklin?   Damnit. Life was a whole lot simpler when he was just plain old, Johnny Madrid.   He started walking towards the main street. Would the mercantile still be open? Murdoch would be—.   That was not a rustle of petticoats behind him.   He spun around, reaching for his gun. He damn-well knew he’d been fast on the draw. It was smooth. Slick. Perfect. Left hand on the hammer ….   Two faces were staring back at him. It was near impossible to work out which was wider; their eyes or their mouths. One of Teresa’s fancy blue dinner plates would’ve filled their pieholes.   They bot