"We should be talking about hiring a new foreman," Chet said, determined to change the subject.

"Aren't you going to be our foreman?" Neill asked.

"Just until your mother and Melody find someone else."

"And me," Sydney added.

"You, too," Melody agreed.

"I thought Mama said you were going to stay," Neill persisted.

"I only stopped to borrow a horse. Mine's all rested up now."

"Don't you want to find the rustlers?" Sydney asked.

"I want to stop them taking Spring Water cows," Chet said, "but I don't need to be the one to find them."

"But Lantz's gunfighter might get all the credit."

"Good." Chet wondered what they'd think if they knew Lantz's gunfighter was his brother. He wondered if Melody would be so accepting then. It was one thing to fall in love with an ex-gunfighter. It was quite another when that ex-gunfighter had a brother with Luke's reputation.

"I bet you're faster."

"Maybe. Once I stop wearing a gun, I'll lose my edge. Soon lots of people will be faster than I am."

"I wouldn't quit," Neill said. "I'd wear my gun forever."

"You can't stay fast forever," Chet said. "Age slows you down."

"But you're not old," Neill said.

"No, but one day you get tired of hunting other men, or worrying about the man hired to hunt you, or trying to figure out how to keep from killing the young fool getting drunk at the corner saloon so he can work up the courage to test his speed against yours. You get tired of seeing men die at your hand."

"Even when they're bad men?" Neill asked.

"Even then."

"But the rustlers are taking our cows," Sydney said. "They deserve to die."

"n.o.body deserves to die," Melody said.

Chet listened to Melody and Sydney argue the rules of how civilized men ought to behave. Neither of them realized that some people would never follow the rules.

"I think you ought to give some thought to the kind of man you want for your foreman," Chet said the moment he could get a word in. "It's fine to let Lantz round up some candidates, but you ought to know what you're looking for before you interview anybody."

"I wouldn't trust anybody Lantz picked out," Melody said.

"You may not approve of his character," Chet said, "but he knows the cattle business."

"I don't like the idea of having to choose from just whoever turns up," Belle said.

"You can't wait much longer," Chet said. "Whoever you hire will need time to get to know the men, become familiar with the range, before he starts roundup."

"Why can't you stay longer? That would give us a chance to look around, not take the first man offered."

"I have to be going."

"Where are you going that you have to get there in such a hurry?"

"To the Arizona Territory." Or maybe New Mexico. Possibly Colorado or Nevada. Somewhere so far from civilization, he could forget a brown-haired girl from Virginia. Somewhere so far away, he wouldn't be tempted to come back, tempted to challenge Fate. "I need to be there before the first snows start in the mountains."

It didn't matter when the snows started. He had to leave before he drove himself crazy. It was impossible to see Melody every day, be close enough to touch her, kiss her, and not hope that he could somehow figure out a way to stay. He'd spent many fruitless hours going over every minute of his life, trying to think of some way to escape the curse of his past, but nothing changed.

He couldn't condemn the woman he loved to living so far from civilization that mere survival was a daily struggle, or living in a town spurned by respectable people, living with the certain knowledge that one day someone would make her a widow. It would be extremely painful to leave, but it would be easier to accept that he couldn't have her if he didn't have to see her every day. It would hurt, but he would gradually get used to the pain. Staying here was torture.

He studied Melody's expression. She didn't seem bothered by the notion that he would be leaving so soon. If she loved him as much as she said, she ought to at least look upset. Instead she looked quite serene, sharing ideas with Belle about their foreman and patiently explaining to Sydney why gunfighting ability wasn't the first item on her list of qualifications.

If he loved her as much as he thought, he ought to be glad she was taking his departure so well. She'd known from the first that he'd leave. He'd never tried to hide it. He should be glad she was able to enjoy what time they had together without being hysterical now. It was by far the most intelligent att.i.tude.

But knowing that didn't lighten his disappointment. He guessed he wasn't as sophisticated as he thought. Every moment he spent with her, being treated as part of the family, made it harder for him to accept having to leave. He'd even considered defying common sense and staying, but only a moment's thought told him that was impossible. Lantz Royal hated him. Any day now he might order Luke to come after him. Chet knew he would leave rather than face his brother.

If he had half the courage, honor, and just plain guts he thought he had, he would have gone before now. "I think we ought to go into town the end of this week," Chet announced. Putting this off was just going to make it harder for all of them.

"So soon?" Belle asked. It seemed she hadn't actually thought he meant to leave.

"We don't need to go if you don't want to," Sydney said. "If Chet has to go, I can take over until you hire somebody."

"I agree it's time you started to learn the job," Melody said, "but I think you need someone with more experience to teach you."

Chet was pleased to see that none of the women rushed to tell Sydney he was a child.

"Chet can teach me," Sydney said. "I'd rather him than somebody I don't know."

"Learning how to run this ranch will take several years," Chet said. "You've got to see the whole cycle several times before you can really understand. It's not the normal things that cause trouble. It's the things that have never happened before."

"It won't take me that long."

"Maybe not, but it's best to be sure," Chet said. "This ranch is your family's inheritance. A lot of people would suffer if you made mistakes."

For once Sydney seemed to be considering advice. Chet began to have hopes the boy might make a good cattleman someday. A few years away at school would be beneficial. The cattle business was changing along with the rest of Texas.

Chet used to dream of going to college. Isabelle had convinced him that a man with an education was in a position to do a lot better than a plain cowboy. He'd lain awake nights talking to Luke about it. But that was all behind him now. College was for boys like Sydney, boys who still had a future.

Having made the decision to go to town in two days, they began to discuss how they were going to get there, where they were going to stay, what clothes they should take, and how long they were going to stay. Sydney was disgusted to discover it would take a whole day to make the journey in a buckboard.

"I'll ride ahead," he said.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Chet said.

"Why?"

"If a man allows his women to travel unaccompanied in a country where rustlers are active, every man in town will a.s.sume he's a coward or a fool."

Sydney bristled immediately. "n.o.body's better call me a coward. I'll shoot 'em."

"You can't shoot everybody. Besides, you'd end up in jail, and that wouldn't help anybody."

"We'll need you to drive," Melody said. "You know your mother and I can't drive that distance."

"I can drive you," Neill offered.

"No, you can't," Sydney scoffed. "You'd get lost."

"No, I wouldn't. I'd follow Chet."

"The horses would probably run away with you. I'll drive," Sydney insisted over Neill's protest that he wasn't such a fool as to lose control of a buggy horse. "But I'll tie my horse behind."

That little problem settled, Chet excused himself from the table. "I've got a lot to do before we leave."

Melody followed him to the door. "Do you really think we have to hire a foreman just now?"

He knew she wasn't asking about the foreman. "Yes. It's time."

"You're sure?"

He nodded. He didn't trust his voice not to betray him.

"You will stay at the hotel with us?"

"If you want."

"You're still our foreman, and it's your job to protect us. Though I doubt anybody would accuse you of being a coward if you abandoned us after we've caused you so much trouble."

He wished she'd stop saying that. It made him uncomfortable. He hadn't done anything any other man wouldn't have done.

"Do you still love me?" she asked.

"Always." He held out his hands.

She put hers in his and he pulled her to him. He put his arms around her, and she looked up into his eyes. Even in the shadows of the front hall, her eyes glowed large and bright. There was something a little sad and bittersweet about her smile. Yet it felt rea.s.suring as well, almost as if she'd reached a decision that saddened her but with which she was well content.

"You won't leave us to meet these men alone, will you?"

"No."

"Neither Belle nor I know anything about judging male character. Lantz is a prime example." She paused only a moment. "I misjudged you as well."

He kissed her so she wouldn't make any more confessions. Odd that her thinking well of him should make him feel so guilty.

"You do that very well," she said when their lips parted. "Is that something Texas men practice from an early age?"

"We prefer to skip kissing hands and go straight to the interesting parts. It leads to a whole different appreciation of kissing."

"I see. And do Texas girls agree?"

"It was Texas girls that gave us the idea."

"Smart girls. Since Virginia is so far behind, how about giving me private instruction so I can catch up?"

It sounded like a good idea; it would have been, if Neill hadn't invaded the hall at that moment.

"You've gotta come," he said to Melody. "Mama and Sydney are fighting again. Mama says if he doesn't show some respect, she's not going to let him go to town with us."

Chet released Melody's hands and stepped back.

"I'll be right there," Melody said, but Neill didn't move. "I've got to go," she said to Chet.

He nodded and watched as she turned to Neill. He knew it wasn't the case, but it felt as if she was turning away from him. It made him feel rejected. Telling himself otherwise didn't help. Neither did knowing he was the one doing the rejecting.

She turned back, giving him a last look and a smile before she disappeared. He turned and hurried out into the night. Only outside of the house, away from her presence, could he regain any certainty of how things must be.

The silence of the night eased his troubled spirit, drained him of emotion, and cloaked him in anonymity. He felt freed of the curse his father had laid on him, a curse he'd taken up of his own free will. Only in the dark could he cease to be Chet Attmore, gunfighter. But he couldn't live in the dark. He needed light. And light would destroy him.

"Do you intend to keep playing peacemaker between Sydney and his mama?" Bernice asked Melody. They sat in the kitchen, enjoying a late-night cup of coffee after the others had gone to bed.

"Are you asking for the job?"

Bernice laughed. "Not on your life. I've had to do it often enough, though it was your father kept him in line when he was alive."

"It was my father's death that caused all the trouble. Belle wants to protect Sydney too much, and he wants to grow up too fast. Neither one can see they're both doing it out of love."

"Boys his age never understand anything about love. They only care for excitement. A man has to get a few years on him before he can see romance in anything except being bigger, faster, or stronger than some other man. Take your fella. He's"

"He's not my fella," Melody protested. "Oh, I'm certain he loves me, but he won't let himself belong to anyone. I'm not sure how much he understands about the power of love. Very little, if I'm any judge. He seems to think just about everything else is more important."

"Men are often like that. Your father was. I don't think he ever appreciated Belle or really understood her. He kept her acting like an empty-headed doll because he thought women were weak, foolish creatures who needed a big man to protect them. Of course, cooks are entirely different. We're supposed to perform miracles without the slightest effort." Melody laughed. "Sounds like Lantz Royal."

"They were alike in some ways, but your pa never let his success go to his head."

"Chet wishes he weren't a success. He thinks having been a gunfighter disqualifies him from having a family like everybody else."

"Well, as much as his handsome self makes me feel weak in the knees at times, he's not far wrong. I don't know another man in his line of work I'd want sleeping in my bed."

"But you do trust Chet?" Melody asked.

"Certainly. I don't know that I would have at first, but he's not like the others. He's hurting inside. Most likely he's been hurting for years, but he hasn't let it make him hard. I saw how he reacted to something Lantz said about gunfighters not being decent like everybody else."

Melody gave a sharp, scornful laugh. "As if Lantz Royal is even close to being decent."