As these things are wont to do, it all happened so fast. Maura had the farmer's full attention as she closed the distance in a stead gait. She figured rushing him, he would shoot out of pure defensive reaction. But a steady walk, maybe not or at least he would hesitate long enough for Roland to do something. The farmer looked surprised alright and threatened to pull the trigger. Maura wondered if her life was about to end in these next tense seconds.

Suddenly the farmer had a far worse complication to deal with as out of the corner of his eye he saw, and of course heard, movement. It was a horse coming straight at him. He tried to swing the rifle at that massive new threat but there was no time, the distance was too short. Now horses will not trample anyone if there is a way around open to them so at the last second it attempted to skirt by not over the fellow. Again though distance was too short. But the horse's reluctance probably saved the farmer from grave injury.

It did not save him though from being barreled over by a sideswipe and down he went from even such partial impact. His rifle fell from his grip and landed a few feet from him. By now Maura had stopped lest she become in the way instead of the useful diversion she just had been. The farmer sat up, took in the situation, this invader, this murderous Englishman was now as close to the rifle as he was!  He had to make a try for it.

"Henry!  Shoot him! Shoot him boy!"

Roland couldn't keep both figures in his field of vision at one time. If he focused on going for the rifle, the son was off to his flank and out of sight for now. If he turned to face the son - who was a good thirty yards away - then he would not have an eye on the crawling farmer, nor could he get the rifle. Seemed like an obvious choice.

Any semblance to a good man was right out, as Roland advanced on the farmer and tried to plant a boot on his face.

Roland was not over-worried about the young boy.  A loving son must necessarily hesitate before putting a bullet so close to his father.  The terror of being the reason your Pa died would be too great.  And if he still had the Lancaster in hand, he was probably critically unfamiliar with its peculiarities. 

No... the boy would not shoot.   

If he did shoot, he would not shoot well.

So Roland kicked.  He kicked and bent low to seize the weapon.  

If he succeeded, then the balance of the devil's table would be back in his favor.

The farmer took a boot right in the face and that ended any attempt by him to reach for his fallen weapon, both hands going to his face and groaning in pain. Turned out he had a broken nose though he did not know that for certain yet.

Roland now had the rifle but it wasn't over with yet. Sure enough the farmer's son let loose a yell.

"PA!"

Immediately followed by a panicky sounding command, "Hold it, drop it or I'm gonna shoot you!" This from a good thirty yards off.

Maura now went for her pistol in her horse's saddle bag, finally able to without that damned rifle aiming straight at her. His father down and in a good deal of discomfort, one of the so called killers now in possession of a rifle and the sudden movement of the woman toward her animal - it was all too much for the boy.

He fired a shot but it was wild, he was too flustered to aim properly.

Roland was capable of a lot of things, but he wasn't capable of killing a child whose only crime was protecting his father.

At least... he hoped he wasn't capable of it.

The world hadn't yet put him to all the corners it was capable of.

He lifted his rifle, seeking to aim not at the child, but on the encroaching villain at the heart of this matter.  "Neither myself nor my companion are criminals, boy.  You and your father have been misled by the actual crook at the heart of events.

My evidence for this is your eyes.  I have not killed your father, and I will not kill you- though you've shot at me.

Stand down, and you will avoid being the pawn of the actual murderer running afoot on this farmstead."

Roland's eyes were keen to lay aim upon the true bastard whenever he should appear within range.  He was not a sharpshooter, but he wagered he had a decent chance to drill the man if he came into range... if God or the Devil would give him the chance.

Roland could have shot the lad, he was well within his rights to do so in self defense after the boy had fired the first shot. Fortunately a wild shot but the intent had been there, just not the competence. Instead Roland talked to the farmer's son even as he took the very real risk he himself could be fired up again while he instead aimed at the real villain of this piece heading toward the farm at a rush.

The boy hesitated.

Maura now had the few seconds time she needed to pull back the hammer and aim her pistol at the kid. She  called out to him.

"He might not shoot you because he is a good man but, so help me God, if you cock that piece and try to take aim I will shoot you dead without hesitation!"

It was all too much for the lad and he began to sob as he dropped the gun to the dirt. The boy did not know it, none of them did, but Maura had not been bluffing.

***

Conley was now getting close enough to clearly make out the scene in the farmyard. That fool farmer was down on the ground, unarmed. His idiot boy was just standing there. And then................the man from town, he was aiming at HIM now! Conley stopped running, he was already close to being out of breath anyway, not exactly used to sprinting anyplace but his damned horse was dead.Also dead was his clever plan to let the sodbusters do his work for him and subdue that Irish bitch and her hired gunhand. This day was going terribly!

And with that, he spun about and began running away from the farm and Roland's rifle. But certainly within range for someone who knew how to shoot. Conley felt that was his only chance now though, he was scared and needed to get away. All he had on him was a pistol, he was badly outranged.

One other major factor too, Conley was not a true gunman, he was a killer alright. But one who did it from ambush not bold enough to engage in gun battles. Now all he wanted to do was live!

The boy hesitated for a hundred years.

Or maybe it was the space of two heartbeats.

In moments like these, one felt very much like the other.

Finally, the boy abandoned violence, doubtless ashamed of himself for doing so.  And Maura backed Roland's play.  She was a strong woman, and a good person of any stripe to have at your back when you needed it watched.

Meanwhile, Roland peered across the sights of his rifle.  He felt the grain of the wood against his cheek and palms.  He let the sight picture drop ever-so-slightly, as he recalled that this fiend might need to be questioned.  That made the shot all the harder.

Hie exhaled, and squeezed the trigger.

The rifle roared, and Roland peered through the smoke to see whether he'd struck his mark.

 Conley had hopes of gaining the cover of the ridgeline and from there he could then plan what to do next. One thing was for certain, he was not about to stand there out in the open with a revolver and duel it out with a man with a rifle. He wasn't paid enough to take that kind of risky gamble. His hopes were soon dashed though. There was the crack of a rifle shot and instantaneously something struck him hard in one his legs. Down he went with a harsh cry of pain. His hand went to the injury, there was a wetness...blood from his right thigh. It hurt like hell too.

He was a panicked and desperate man, he whimpered now as he slowly began to crawl for the nearest cover.  That cover was a good seventy, eighty yards away, a hell of a crawl.

***

Maura kept the pistol on the boy until the lad dropped it and began to sob. The fight was out of him, if it was ever truly in him. His father had pressured him into this and he had tried real hard to be the dutiful son.

"See to your father and don't try anything!" she directed him with a wave of her pistol then watched as Roland drew a careful bead on that man trying to make as much distance from them as he could.

"We need him alive," she pointed out but he probably already knew that. Still, no way could they let him get away from them again.

Roland fired and the man fell. Maura could see he was still alive alright, he began to crawl. Well, that wasn't going to work not with both of them up and on the their feet in one piece.

"Bully shot!" Maura cried out in vengeful joy as she looked toward the shooter, her gallant knight errand on this journey.