The Cowboys - Chet Part 17

She didn't say anything, but her look begged him not to go. Yet he knew there was no point in his hanging around. If he left now, he could still make it to town before nightfall. But even as he started to turn toward the door, Neill came cras.h.i.+ng through it.

"Sydney's gone to find Blade Royal," he shouted breathlessly. "He took his guns, too." He turned to Chet. "He said he wasn't afraid of Blade even if you were. He said you'd have to treat him different now."

"Blade'll kill him," Speers said. "He's twice as fast as Sydney will ever be."

Melody turned to Chet.

He didn't wait for her to ask the question. "I'll go after him," he said.

"I'll go with you," Speers offered.

"No," Chet replied. "I have to do this alone." He headed for the house at a run. He had to get his guns.

Chet felt guilty that during the long ride to the canyon he hadn't given much thought to Melody's brother. Instead he'd thought a lot about his own. In all the years Chet had followed Luke around, they'd never found themselves on opposing sides of an argument. He couldn't even consider facing Luke over a gun. But with Sydney's life at stake, he might not have any choice. He would have to do anything he could to protect the boy, regardless of who might get in the way.

He didn't know how he could face Melody if he failed to bring Sydney back alive. Just the thought of what she'd do if he returned with the boy's body slung across a horse was enough to make him want to shoot Blade Royal on sight.

He'd given up everything he loved to follow Luke, to protect him. How could he ever fire on him? He couldn't. He'd never be able to live with himself afterwards.

But what if . . .

Luke wasn't a killer. He wouldn't be involved with Blade. Chet had to believe that if he was to go on loving his brother.

He heard a shot before he reached the mouth of the canyon where the men had told him he could find Blade. A single shot. Nothing followed. His mouth felt dry; his nerves tight. It took only one bullet to kill a man.

Or a boy.

He tried not to visualize what might be happening, what might already have happened. It would get him too worked up. He had to remain calm. He didn't expect to like what he found, but getting angry could get him killed. That wouldn't help Sydney or Melody.

When Chet rounded a grove of trees to see Sydney on the ground and Blade on his feet with a gun in his hand, he knew it was really bad. They were on a sandy clearing next to a shallow, sluggish stream that flowed through the side canyon. A couple of dozen horses were visible farther up the canyon. Beyond that, huge boulders and scrub growth choked the canyon up to the towering walls. Blade was turned away from Chet. Billy Mason and four other men stood a little back, as though distancing themselves from what Blade was doing. They looked uneasily from one to another. Given a chance, Chet figured they might try to convince Blade to go home and forget all about Sydney.

"Why don't you get up, boy?" Blade said. His tone was biting, scornful. "You won't kill me lying on the ground."

Chet breathed a sigh of relief. Sydney wasn't dead, but Blade obviously intended to kill him. It wouldn't look too good if he killed a young boy, not even in a fair fight. But n.o.body would blame him if the boy drew on him again, especially when the boy was down and Blade had reason to think the fight was over.

"I've been hearing how good you are," Blade said, still taunting Sydney. "You're going to have to get up if you want to prove it."

Sydney tried to move, to lift himself up so he could get to his gun, but he couldn't quite make it. His strength gave out, and he fell back.

"You gotta try harder, boy," Blade taunted. "Your gun's still in your holster. You didn't even get it out before I shot you. But I'm willing to believe you're better than that. Maybe I just caught you off guard."

Nothing in Chet's experience told him how to go about rescuing Sydney. He obviously couldn't ride in, guns blazing. He'd be shot down in an instant. He couldn't depend upon Blade to keep talking long enough for him to attack from hiding. He decided he could gamble on the other men's hesitation. The question was, what would Blade do when he saw Chet?

He would shoot or he wouldn't. Chet wouldn't know which until he walked into the clearing. Could Chet outdraw Blade? He didn't know that, either. He thought of Melody. She wouldn't understand why he hesitated. Wasn't this what gunfighters did all the time?

Chet hoped Blade wasn't serious about killing Sydney and was only acting like this to scare the boy. But Chet had to be prepared for the worst. Nerves taut and ready, he dismounted and walked quickly toward Sydney. Blade was too absorbed to notice his arrival. As Chet had hoped, his men looked undecided about what to do. Chet hoped they would stay that way.

"You d.a.m.ned cheating b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Sydney managed to say despite the pain. "You drew before I got out of the saddle."

Blade pointed his gun at Sydney, waving it like a stick. "n.o.body calls me a cheat," he shouted. "I'll kill the first man who tries."

"Looks like you already tried and failed," Chet said. "I suggest you put your gun away and go home before you do some real damage."

Blade didn't take his eyes off Sydney. "Somebody shoot that man!" he shouted over his shoulder, just as if Chet was a mad dog to be gotten rid of.

Chet turned toward Billy, hand poised to draw, but n.o.body moved.

Chet decided Blade was dangerously unbalanced. If he and Sydney were to get out of here alive, he had to think of some way to throw him off stride, some way to keep him from shooting them in cold blood. The only way that occurred to him was to attack his inflated opinion of himself.

"Why ask somebody else?" Chet said. "Are you afraid to do your own work?"

Chet reached Sydney's side and knelt down next to the boy.

"What are you doing here?" Blade demanded. Chet looked up. Blade was staring at him with the look of a crazy man. This was no act. He was serious.

"I came to take him home."

"Get out of the way," Blade shouted.

"I came to kill that b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Sydney said from between teeth clenched in pain. "I'm not leaving until I do."

Chet spoke softly. "That's just what he's hoping you'll do. It'll give him an excuse to kill you."

"Get away from him," Blade shouted again.

"Do you always pick on boys?" Chet asked.

"I'm not afraid of you," Blade bellowed. "Now back away. I'm not finished with him yet."

"Yes, you are," Chet said as he got to his feet. "I'm taking him home. He needs a doctor."

"Leave him where he is," Blade yelled, waving his gun at Chet.

Chet stood and squared up to Blade. "You going to shoot me down where I stand? I don't know just how much your men will lie for you, but an out-and-out murder will be hard to hide."

"You're wearing a gun."

"Mine's in its holster. Yours is already drawn. That would be cheating."

"Dammit!" Blade swore. "n.o.body calls me a cheater." Chet turned his back and started toward Sydney's horse.

"Don't turn your back on me!" Blade screamed.

"Are you going to shoot me in the back if I don't turn around?" Chet reached Sydney's horse and turned him. "Then you'd be a coward as well as a cheater," he said to Blade.

Blade jammed his gun into its holster. "There. You're facing me, and my gun's in my holster. Draw."

The temptation to draw was nearly overwhelming. With his temper riding him, it was almost impossible to withstand, but Chet knew he must. He might beat Blade. But the moment he went for his gun, the other men would open fire. They'd probably kill Sydney as well. There had been too many deaths already.

"I'm not going to draw on you," Chet said, though he nearly choked on the words. "I may yet get a chance to even the score between us, but right now it's more important that I get this boy to a doctor."

"I remember who you are," Blade suddenly declared. "You're that man" He stopped, suddenly aware of what he was about to say.

"Why don't you finish your sentence?" Chet said.

Blade didn't speak. That pushed Chet's temper over the edge. "Then I'll finish it for you," he said. "I'm the man you shot from behind."

"Liar!" Blade shouted, furious.

"And Bill Mason was with you," Chet said.

"Are you calling me a liar, too?" Billy bellowed.

Chet couldn't stop now. The lid was off his temper. He leaned forward on his toes, tense, ready, anxious. "You're already a thief. Why not a liar? Of course, if you admit Blade shot me after I'd turned and started down the trail, that the two of you left me there to die twelve miles from the nearest ranch, then you'd only be a thief."

Everything happened in a matter of seconds, but Chet was ready. Blade and Billy went for their guns at the same time, but only two shots reverberated between the canyon walls. Chet remained standing, a gun in each hand. Billy was down, shot in the thigh. Blade dropped his gun and grabbed hold of his arm.

"G.o.d almighty!" one of the men gasped, astounded. "You got them both. Who the h.e.l.l are you?"

"A cowboy who doesn't like to see grown men go around shooting boys and terrorizing women. Get him home and keep him there."

Blade was swearing and shouting threats at Chet, but two men hurried to get him up on his horse while two others helped Billy.

Chet remained watching, both guns drawn, until Blade's men had left the clearing. Once he was certain no one intended to sneak back and take a shot at him from ambush, he turned back to Sydney. The boy didn't say anything as Chet helped him up on his horse and led him out of the clearing. When they reached Chet's mount, Chet swung up into his saddle.

"You got them both," Sydney said.

"I didn't have much choice. They both drew on me."

"But they started first."

"I was lucky."

"No, you weren't. I saw what you did to the peach can, and I saw what you did today." "Don't put too much importance in it. It's going to cause a lot of trouble."

"But you beat him."

"He'll come after me. That's why I wanted to hang up my guns."

"What made you put them on to come after me?"

"Gunfighters have honor, too."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"We have rules. One of them says men don't pick fights with boys. Another says you never fire on a man when he's down."

"He would have killed me. He's faster than I am, but he would have kept egging me on until I tried to draw again. Then he would have killed me."

"Yes."

They rode for a bit in silence.

"Did Blade really shoot you from behind?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you kill him?"

Chet didn't know why he should be upset at the question. He'd heard it often enough. Everybody thought gunfighters were bloodthirsty and cruel.

"I never killed anybody I didn't have to."

More silence.

"Blade's father's going to send his men after you. He won't rest until you're dead."

"I've managed to keep from being killed by more dangerous men than Lantz Royal. You let me worry about him. You'd better start worrying about what you're going to say to your mother. After this, you're going to have a hard time convincing her to let you ride with me."

Despite the pain, Sydney twisted in the saddle until he could see Chet. For the first time he looked like what he was, a fourteen-year-old boy in over his head and searching desperately for a way out. "You're staying?"

"I started something back there. I'll stay until it's finished."

Chapter Eleven.

"I could have taken him," Blade said for the dozenth time. "I wasn't concentrating."

All the way back from the canyon Luke had listened to Blade say what he could have done, should have done, would have done if things had been different. He'd listened without saying a word. And he didn't intend to say one. Yet.

Lantz had sent him looking when Blade didn't come back when he was expected. It shouldn't have taken more than a couple of hours to run off the Spring Water horses. Blade had been gone all day. Luke arrived at almost the same time as Chet but from a different direction. He'd had his rifle aimed at Blade's heart the whole time.

"I didn't intend to kill that kid," Blade said angrily to Luke. "If I had, he'd have been dead before you arrived."

Luke had disliked Blade from the start. He was a spoiled braggart. His father should have sent him to some fancy school back East. He'd have learned some manners, made friends with young men who could have had a moderating effect on his self-absorption. He might even have married a young woman who would have preferred her husband to think like a wealthy rancher rather than a temperamental gunslick.

Luke hadn't bothered to answer Blade because he had more important things on his mind. He'd been startled when he saw Chet and realized he had come for Melody Jordan's brother. He'd expected Chet would be gone from the ranch by now. Why hadn't he left? And what was he doing sticking out his neck for the son of strangers? Was it his way of thanking them for taking care of him, or was it something much more serious? Luke hadn't thought too much about it when Melody came looking for Chet. He'd been too worried about his brother, too grateful someone would take care of him, too determined to catch up with Blade to wonder why Melody would come looking for a stranger and offer to care for him in her home. Maybe he should have.

Luke knew Chet was dead set against marriage. He believed there was bad blood in the family; he'd said he wouldn't ask any woman he loved to marry a gunfighter. Luke knew this because Chet had spent years trying to get Luke to give up the trade, find some nice young girl, settle down, and raise a bunch of kids.

Chet never seemed to understand that what went for him went for Luke in spades. Chet had always been careful about the jobs he took. Luke hadn't. If he had, he wouldn't have signed on with Lantz Royal. Neither would he be worried about being ordered to kill his own brother.

"You wait until Pa hears about this," Blade said. "He'll have you and the whole crew hunting that man's scalp. He'll be dead before morning."