"First, I'm going to get Chet to teach me everything he can about running a ranch."

"And after that?" "I'm going to get him to tell me how to save the ranch from Lantz."

"Your father chose well," Chet said to Melody. "This canyon is a perfect place to winter your herd. It offers plenty of food and water and protection from the worst of the winter storms."

They had been riding for over an hour. Chet felt a little weak from spending two days in bed, but it felt good to be in the saddle. In a day or two he'd feel like his old self.

"Are you saying we've got the best ranch in the area?" Melody asked.

"Probably."

"Is it valuable enough to make Lantz determined to take it?"

"Sometimes people don't care what something costs. They just have to have it."

"Like Lantz saying he doesn't want all the land in the world, just the land that joins his."

"Something like that."

"Do you think he means to take it?"

"Don't you?"

"Maybe. I understand what you say about Texas being different, but I find it hard to believe people can just walk in and take what they want."

"It won't always be that way."

"That doesn't help me or my brothers."

"Turn everything over to Tom. Let him hire a gunfighter."

"Can't I win any other way?"

"As I see it, this is going to come down to who has the most men and guns and who's willing to use them first."

"That sounds like the War all over again."

"There's always at least one person willing to take advantage of any weakness. Right and the law mean nothing to people like that."

"Is that the kind of men you worked for?"

He should have known it would get around to his past sooner or later. It was almost as though she thought if she asked him enough times, he would finally admit that he hadn't really been a gunfighter after all.

"I worked for people I thought were in the right. Sometimes it was a tight call, but I think I made the right choices."

"Would you work for me?"

Her request surprised him so much that he jerked his mount to a stop. The horse demonstrated his objection to such rough treatment by trying to buck him off.

"You said I had to hire a gunfighter," she said. "Tom says the same thing."

"What made you change your mind?"

"I don't like having my ranch taken away from me. And I trust you not to go around shooting people for the fun of it."

He wouldn't bother to explain that no gunfighter went around shooting people for the fun of it. That was a good way to die. Neither did he try to explain that if Melody hired him as a gunfighter, she'd never be able to see him any other way. That touched on areas he didn't want to have to explain to himself.

"I told you I've given up hiring my gun."

"Why?"

"If you live by the gun, you die by the gun. I decided I'd rather go on living."

"What are you going to do?"

"Find some corner of the world where there aren't many people, buy myself a piece of land, and raise a few cows."

"Your wife might not like living so far from other people."

"A man like me doesn't get married."

"Why not?"

Did she always have to know everything? Couldn't she just accept some things at face value? "Because there's always some young fool trying to build a reputation. And the best way is to kill someone with an even bigger reputation. I don't want to leave a widow or fatherless children. I know what that's like. You just leave all the guns and the fighting to Tom. Now we'd better be getting back before Belle sends out a search party."

He needed to put some s.p.a.ce between them. She'd asked him to stay. True, she wanted his gun, but she'd said she trusted him. That might not sound like much to other people, but it worked powerfully on him. She'd been thinking about marrying Lantz Royal, but she'd turned him down and was planning to fight him. Chet couldn't help believing he was somehow responsible for that change.

She was attracted to him. He'd been pursued by women often enough to be able to gauge the extent of their interest in him. Until this morning he'd thought her interest was mainly curiosity about a stranger, especially one as exotic as a gunfighter. Now he realized that serious interest wasn't just on his side. Something had happened to make her see him as a man, or at least look past the gunfighter label. She liked what she saw. That was dangerous because he already liked all he saw of her. If he took the job she offered, in her eyes he'd be a gunfighter for the rest of his life. Besides, if he stayed, he might come up against Luke. He could never do that, not for anyone.

"Why not go home to your family?" Melody asked as they cantered back toward the ranch house.

"I don't want to bring trouble to them. They were too good to me to be served such a backhanded trick."

"They might not feel that way. I know I wouldn't if you were my familymy son or my . . . husband."

"You'd let me come back knowing what might happen?"

"Of course. I wouldn't like it, but I couldn't do anything else if I loved you."

"That's not very sensible."

"Belle says refusing Lantz wasn't very sensible, either. But I want to love the man I marry, and I want him to love me. If I did, I would never turn my back on him, no matter what trouble he got into."

Chet urged his horse along faster. He had to get back to the ranch before he started believing her. He'd faced temptation before, but until now he hadn't had so much difficulty resisting it. The longer he stayed, the more excuses he found to stay.

He forced himself to talk about the ranch, mentioning everything he thought could be of interest. He doubted she'd remember half of it, but it kept his mind off what she'd said about not turning her back on the man she loved no matter what he'd done. They arrived to find the ranch silent, the corral empty. Neill came racing out of the house as they rode up.

"Blade Royal drove off the horses," he shouted as he pounded across the yard toward them. "Tom and the men have gone to have a shootout. And Sydney's mad as fire they wouldn't let him go."

Chapter Ten.

Chet didn't feel comfortable in the silent house. Despite Melody's saying he wasn't responsible for their troubles, he couldn't get rid of the feeling that she thought he ought to do something. Since he didn't know where Tom had gone, what he planned to do, or anything about the situation, he was at a loss to know what he could do. Even if he knew where they were, he couldn't just ride up and take over. The men wouldn't accept him. Even if they did, it would humiliate Tom. Chet wouldn't do that.

Yet as long as the men were gone, the fear of what might be happening remained uppermost in everyone's mind. Sydney stayed outside, watching for their return, hoping to find an excuse to join them, despite his mother's orders to Tom not to leave even one saddle horse in the corral. Neill ran between Sydney and the house, reporting every irrational threat the boy uttered. Melody ignored them. Belle grew more agitated by the minute.

"Blade didn't run off the horses," she kept saying. "Lantz would never let him do such a thing. It was horse thieves. They'll kill everybody."

"I doubt Tom will let that happen," Melody said.

"You should have gone after them," Belle said to Chet. "You're a gunman. You'd know what to do."

"He's been shot twice because of us," Melody said. "I don't think it's fair to ask him to risk another injury, especially since he's not recovered from the last one."

A series of gunshots caused Belle to start violently. "Why must Sydney practice his target shooting now? He knows how badly it upsets my nerves."

"He's practicing because he's angry," Melody said. "He's doing it near the house because he knows it will upset you. You were the one who stopped him from riding with Tom. He won't forgive you."

"I couldn't let him go. He's just a body. And he's your brother. You ought to be as concerned as I am."

"I am," Melody a.s.sured her stepmother. "I was just explaining what he's doing and why."

Another burst of gunfire shattered the quiet.

Belle put her hands over her ears. "I can't stand it. I'll go crazy if he doesn't stop."

"I'll talk to him," Chet said, getting to his feet.

"He doesn't like you," Belle reminded him.

"I can still talk to him."

"Thank you," Melody said. "He'll probably listen to you before he listens to one of us."

"I'm not so sure." Chet doubted he could do anything more than try to take Sydney's mind off his perceived slight. Though that was a thankless task, it was better than staying inside and having to endure Belle's accusing glare.

"What are you going to do?" Neill shot out of the kitchen as Chet walked past. "You riding after them? You didn't bring your guns. Where are your guns?"

"I'm not going after anybody," Chet said. "That's Tom's job."

"But he can't shoot like you. He couldn't hit a peach can if I tossed it up a hundred times."

"It's still his job. I'm looking for Sydney. Do you know where he is?"

"Over behind the bunkhouse. He's real mad. He told me to get lost or he'd put a bullet through my hat. I'm not wearing a hat. Do you think he'll shoot me anyway?"

"I don't think so, but you can tag along with me just in case." More shots sounded from behind the bunkhouse. "Does he practice often?"

"Lots, but Melody won't let him shoot near the house. That makes Sydney mad, and he hollers at her. She doesn't back down. Tom says Melody never backs down about anything. Mama says she ought to. Mama says no man's going to marry a woman who argues with every word that comes out of his mouth."

Chet could just imagine some of the arguments that had taken place since Melody's arrival. He smiled to himself. She and Isabelle were a lot alike. Isabelle adored Jake, but she didn't hesitate to let him know when she disagreed with him. Chet was certain Melody would do the same. He rounded the corner of the bunkhouse in time to see Sydney taking aim at a target he'd nailed to a corral post. He drew too quickly, fired before his gun was level, and jerked the trigger. He missed the target all three times. Tim Speers and Toby had come out to watch. Their snickers made Sydney's mood blacker.

"You need to work on making your draw smoother, one single motion," Chet said. "And you should squeeze the trigger gently. It won't matter how smoothly you draw if you jerk the trigger. It'll throw your aim off."

"I know all that," Sydney growled. "I hit everything when I'm not angry."

"You can't afford to let anger ruin your aim," Chet said. "You can be sure the other man won't."

Sydney didn't look thankful for the advice.

"You ought to move farther away from the house," Chet said.

Sydney looked belligerent. "I don't have to do what you say. Anyway, there's n.o.body here. No horses either. I can't hit anything."

"Your mother's worried about Tom and the men," Chet said. "These gunshots are upsetting her."

"She ought to have let me go with Tom," Sydney shot back. "Then I wouldn't be bothering her."

"She's worried about you. She doesn't want you to get hurt."

"Mama says the rustlers would shoot Sydney first because he's an owner," Neill said.

"I'm not afraid of rustlers or Blade Royal," Sydney growled at his younger brother. "I can shoot better than any of them."

Chet guessed Sydney must have some skill, but the pristine target didn't support his brag.

"Maybe you can," Chet said, "but they've got more experience, and that's extremely important to a gunfighter."

"I don't intend to be a gunfighter," Sydney said, the contempt in his voice indicating what he thought of anyone who was. "I just mean to be better than anybody else."

"If you're that good," Chet said, "you'll have to become a gunfighter just to stay alive."

Sydney didn't appear to have considered that aspect of the problem. Chet suspected he wasn't nearly so enamored of guns as everyone thought. He was teetering on the edge of becoming an adult, eager to be thought a man but unsure of how to do it. He couldn't be expected to listen to Belle and Melody. No boy his age wanted to be told what to do by his mother and sister. He hadn't found a man he could respect. Until he did, he'd continue to imitate men like Blade Royal.

Chet knew he couldn't do much, but he had to try.

"Is that why you're quitting?" Sydney asked.

"It's reason enough," Chet replied.

"What if you're better than everybody else?"

"Sooner or later somebody will get lucky. Or they'll shoot you in the back like they did my father. Much better to stick with being an owner."