"That's how people feel."

"It's not fair," Melody protested.

"Texas isn't about being fair. It's still too raw. It's about power."

"Chet keeps telling me that, but I don't understand. Why should it be so different here?"

"Because the only men who could survive here were the ones strong enough and mean enough to take and hold what they wanted. This'll be settled country when your brothers take over. People will own their land so others can't just push them off it."

"Chet said we ought to buy all our land."

"He seems to know a great deal about ranching."

"He grew up on a ranch in the Hill Country. He also talks about the people who adopted him as if he'd give anything to be back there."

"He was headed in the opposite direction when he showed up here."

"He's afraid his past will bring trouble on them. He loves them too much to do that."

"It seems that man loves everybody but himself."

"He's even tried to teach me how to handle Sydney." Melody laughed again, ruefully this time. "I'm trying to get him to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, and he's busy giving advice."

"Maybe he's not as romantic as you think."

"It's not that. He's trying to teach me as much as he can before he leaves."

"I was afraid of that. He doesn't look like a man who's happy in love."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Honey, men aren't subtle. Besides, he's the stubborn kind. Once he makes up his mind, you won't change it."

"What am I going to do? I love him desperately."

"There's not much you can do with a man like him except wait."

Melody didn't want to hear that. She feared that if she waited too long, he would disappear and she'd be left with nothing but a memory. She refused to be eighteen years old and know that the only part of her life she truly wished to remember was behind her.

Chet Attmore belonged to her. He had from the moment he admitted he loved her. He didn't have the right to ruin the rest of her life out of some misplaced sense of honor. Okay, maybe he was right to worry about his past, but he didn't have the right to protect her from herself. If she wanted to ride a wild horse without a saddle, that was her business. If she wanted to marry a gunfighter, that was her business, too. It was his job to sit still long enough for her to do it.

Chet was of two minds about entering the little town of Timberville. The trees that had given the town its name had been cut down to build the town, a small collection of streets and buildings set on the tableland above a creek. The denuded flood plain created by the creek that flowed out of the canyon on the Spring Water had been turned into corrals and grazing for local livestock.

The only town of measurable size for more than a hundred miles east and several hundred in any other direction, Timberville had ambitions to be the business center of several counties. But it looked more like a leggy teenager without enough clothes to cover its frame.

Chet never entered a town without the uneasy feeling that somewherein one of the saloons or one of the small, run-down houses that always rimmed a town like thisa man waited, looking for a chance to make a reputation, get revenge, fulfill a contract. A man who might not feel constrained to make it a fair fight.

Neill and Sydney rode in the front seat of the buckboard, Sydney holding the reins. Melody and Belle sat in the back, their faces covered with veils to protect them from the dust. Chet rode ahead. The boys' horses were tied to the back of the wagon. Neill had insisted that he have a horse if Sydney had one. They entered along a street bounded with houses on each side. It was dinnertime, and no one was about except some cowhands likely having a last night in town before heading out to roundup.

"I'd forgotten what a small town this was," Melody said. "I guess I still think all cities must be the size of Richmond."

Timberville wasn't. Its buildings weren't of brick or stone. Nor were its streets paved with cobblestones. Dust covered everything, and the only means of transportation had left ample evidence of its presence. With few exceptions, the buildings were single story with false fronts. The most significant exception was the hotel, built to house the tide of visitors that never grew beyond a trickle. It catered mostly to cattle buyers and ranchers who occasionally brought their families to town. Because it was getting close to roundup time, the hotel was nearly empty. The Jordan family could have as many rooms as they wanted.

"I think four rooms are enough," Belle said, despite Sydney's argument that he was too big to share a room with an eleven-year-old brother.

"I don't mind sharing a room with you," Melody offered.

"No," Belle said. "It would have been expected if I were your mother, but I'm not. You should have your own room."

"I can share with Chet," Sydney said.

"I don't want Neill by himself," Belle said.

Once it was clear that he was only sharing a room because Neill was too young to stay in one alone, Sydney agreed to room with his brother. After he'd asked for and been given his own key, he even seemed satisfied with the arrangement. "I get to choose my bed," he called and ran up the stairs followed by a protesting Neill.

Melody looked amused, Belle distressed. "Maybe I should have left them at home."

"This place has survived cowhands and a good deal worse," said the desk clerk. "They won't hurt anything."

"Please give Mr. Attmore the room on the other side of the boys," Belle said to the clerk. "I don't want to saddle you with them," Belle said, turning back to Chet, "but they listen to you more than to me. It seems unfair to"

"Chet Attmore!"

Several thoughts exploded in Chet's mind at once, but instinct took over. He had his gun halfway out of its holster when he turned to see Dan Walters coming down the stairs, a smile on his face, his hand outstretched. Chet relaxed, relieved to see a friend, embarra.s.sed at his reaction. He glanced at Melody, hoping she hadn't seen. Her pallor told him she had and was horrified.

He opened his mouth to explain, then closed it again. The explanation was obvious, and nothing he might say could change that or its consequences. He was a gunfighter. He might want to change, but he could never wipe out his past, or the instincts that enabled him to survive in a business where one small mistake, one brief hesitation, could mean death.

"Dan Walters," Chet said, advancing to meet the man who was clearly glad to see him. "What are you doing here? I never expected to see you so far from Nueces River country."

"I sold up now I don't have you to keep the rustlers off my back," Dan said. "I'm looking for a place to buy, but they tell me this country is closed."

"If you knew anything about Lantz Royal, you'd understand," Chet said. "He owns most of the country and has his eye on the rest."

"You seem to be doing all right," Dan said. "Is this your family?"

Chet felt the bitter gall of a man who has no family and wants one more than just about anything else.

"This is the Jordan family. They own the Spring Water Ranch. I'm acting as their foreman until they can hire someone. Belle, I'd like to introduce you to Dan Walters. I did some work for him a few years back."

"He means he kept me from being killed by a pack of the most vicious rustlers you'll ever see," Dan said. "Thanks to Chet, we hanged the lot of them."

Despite that somewhat chilling introduction, Belle willingly shook hands with Dan. Chet thought she looked quite taken with him. But that wasn't such a surprise. Dan was on the wrong side of forty, but he was still a big, handsome man.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Walters. Allow me to introduce my stepdaughter, Melody."

Melody and Dan shook hands. She smiled in greeting, but Chet could tell she didn't feel the least bit like smiling. This further revelation of Chet's past had shocked her.

"The two boys who nearly knocked you down are my sons," Belle said.

"Fine boys. I'm sure their father is mighty proud. I'd like to meet him. Maybe he can point me to some land your Mr. Royal doesn't own."

"My husband is dead," Belle said. Chet got the feeling his friend actually perked up at that bit of news. Dan's wife had died years ago. Apparently he hadn't remarried. Just as apparently, he found the widow Jordan very much to his liking.

"Are you and your family staying in town long?" he asked.

"We're here to find a new foreman. Since you're a friend of Chet's, maybe you can convince him to stay on. We'd much rather have him than anyone else."

"I tried to get him to be my foreman," Dan said. "He turned me down flat."

"Such a stubborn young man," Belle said.

"What do you mean talking like that? You can't possibly be more than five minutes older than Chet. You look beautiful enough to be five years younger."

"Goodness," Belle said, fanning herself. "You sure you don't come from Richmond? You sound exactly like some of the men Melody's been telling me about."

Chet had never seen Belle fl.u.s.tered. Silly and nearly hysterical, yes. But she wasn't either now. She was truly fl.u.s.tered. It wasn't much of a leap to imagine her and Dan together. They'd probably be very good for each other. Belle would love to be spoiled and pampered. And Dan would love doing it.

"My mother came from Virginia," Dan said. "A little town you probably never heard of called Williamsburg."

"That accounts for it then."

"What?"

"Your gallant manners. Chet's gallant, too, but he insists upon doing everything without a fuss. Your gallantry is rather showy." Belle blushed. "I like that."

"Then you'll have to let me invite you to dinner. All of your family," Dan added. "We Virginians really shine at table, don't we, Miss Melody?"

"We certainly do, Mr. Walters." Melody had recovered some of her self-control. She smiled. "But I have a feeling you'd shine anywhere."

"Why, thank you," Dan said, practically bowing over her hand.

Chet had never seen Dan around women. He'd been hired to rescue a rancher about to be destroyed by rustlers. Theirs had been a grim struggle. Chet had left as soon as the rustlers had been caught. Witnessing this side of his friend amused him.

"What do you say to this evening?" Dan asked. "You've had a long journey, you're tired, and you still have to unpack. You won't have the energy to cope with ordering dinner. I'll arrange everything. All you have to do is eat."

Belle turned to Melody, who nodded her agreement. "Thank you very much, Mr. Walters. We'll be delighted to accept your hospitality. What do you say to seven-thirty?"

"Seems perfect. Now is there anything I can do? Can I help take up your luggage?"

"Thank you, but"

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming to town?" a voice boomed from the doorway. "Tell me which room you're in, and my boys will take your luggage up." Lantz sailed up to Melody and took her resisting hand. "Are you sure you should be up so soon? I don't want you to over-do." "Who the h.e.l.l is that loudmouth?" Dan muttered under his breath to Chet.

"You're about to meet the man who closed Concho County," Chet replied.

Chapter Seventeen.

Lantz Royal was just about the last person in the world Melody wanted to see. She'd never been greatly pleased with him, not even in the beginning when she actually considered the possibility of marrying him. But it wasn't until she had become accustomed to Chet's quietly efficient, self-effacing nature that she realized Lantz was so loud and overbearing. Even the good-natured swagger of Dan Walters seemed subdued in comparison.

"Good evening, Lantz," she said. "We just got here. We haven't had time to go to our rooms."

"If you had let me know you were coming, I'd have taken care of everything."

"Thank you, but Chet can handle anything that's too difficult for Belle or me."

"Or Sydney," Chet prompted.

Melody didn't know whether Chet had intended to irritate Lantz by comparing him to a boy, but he succeeded.

"I'd be more than happy to be of service," Dan said, directing his remark more to Belle than Melody.

"Who are you?" Lantz demanded.

"This is Dan Walters," Melody said.

"What are you doing here?" Lantz asked.

"I thought I might buy a ranch in this area," he said, giving Belle a wink. "Now I'm sure of it."

"There's nothing for sale. You may as well leave now."

"You never know until you ask," Dan said, his good humor seeming to increase the more Lantz's irritation showed.

"I tell you there's nothing," Lantz said. "Get on your horse and git."

"I couldn't do that," Dan said. "I just invited the ladies to dinner."

His mood seemed as pleasant as ever, but Melody thought she could detect a hardening of his att.i.tude toward Lantz. Chet appeared to be completely unmoved, but Melody had learned to watch his eyes and mouth closely. His lips had become hard, his eyes more narrow. That was about all the signs he would give of his anger before it burst out into the open.

"You can't have dinner with him," Lantz said, turning to Melody. "You don't even know him."

"He's a friend of Chet's," Melody said.

"That's all the more reason to steer clear of him. He's probably a killer, too."

"I think it's an excellent recommendation," Melody said. "I don't know what would have happened to us these last days without Chet. I can't speak too highly of his character. I would be willing to trust my safety to anyone he called a friend."

"You wouldn't need him or his friends to protect you if you'd married me," Lantz said.

Melody decided there wasn't even a trace of the disappointed lover in Lantz. He was merely angry that she could prefer anyone else to him. "If you hadn't been so heavy-handed, I might have." Melody wasn't sure it was wise to make that confession, but she couldn't resist letting Lantz know he'd been his own worst enemy. "But I would never marry you now. After the way you've mistreated my cowhands, I tremble to think what you'd do to me if I made you angry."

"You said your men would take the ladies' luggage up to their rooms?" Chet said. "I don't see them."