“Buck, is he—” A scattering of gunshots continued to punctuate the afternoon air.
“He made it to the trees. I saw him. The boys will take care of him.” Chase glanced around to get his bearings. “Right now I just want to get you out of harm’s way. This gully twists around the hill. We’ll come out somewhere behind the boys.”
“Ty—” she remembered.
“Don’t worry. Nate will look after him.”
“How did he find you?” Her heart was beginning to beat more normally. She tugged her blouse free from the waistband of her jeans and tore off a strip of the tail to make a bandage to take the place of the handkerchief.
“Your brother had just told us Buck was in on this with him. We were riding back from his place.” He read the sharp question in her glance and smiled wanly. “Doc Barlow is taking Culley to a private mental institution where he can be treated.”
“Thank you,” she murmured and looked down, unable to express her gratitude that he had not only spared her brother, but was also seeing to it that he got help.
“Maggie.” The soft urgency of his voice forestalled the hand carrying the folded square of blouse material to his wound. His left hand cupped her face, lifting her gaze. The deep gratitude in his eyes defied expression and she understood its cause.
“I never could have faced you again, Chase, if you had been brought to your knees because of me. It would have destroyed us. You shouldn’t have let him bring you down—”
“Only on one knee, Maggie,” he reminded her and held her look; a hunger for all the inexpressible things life had to offer them was in their eyes. She pressed a burning kiss to his mouth, appeasing that need for the time being. She straightened and busily lifted his bloodied hand away from the wound to lay the makeshift bandage against it. “We’ve been here long enough.” He took it away from her and struggled to his feet. “Let’s move out.”
With Maggie leading the way, they crouched low to take full advantage of the ravine’s protection and followed the twisting path of its gravel-strewn course. Occasionally they heard sounds to indicate the riders were still seeking out their quarry. The ground above the wash became rougher, a tangle of rock and brush.
A rustle of grass on the bank behind them was the only advance warning they had. They both turned as Buck vaulted down to the bed of the wash. His startled look told them he had no knowledge they were there. He tried to bring the barrel of his rifle around, but Chase reacted more quickly. With a swing of his arm, he knocked the rifle out of Buck’s hand and hit him in
the chest with his shoulder, pulling him to the ground with the weight of his body. Buck recovered instantly, bringing up his knees and driving them into Chase’s ribs. Pain exploded, rolling Chase aside while Maggie scrambled for the rifle.
Reaching it, she immediately levered a bullet into the firing chamber and raised it to her shoulder. As she took aim on her target, she looked down the sights at Buck’s shocked and motionless face, frozen by this glimpse of death, ever the coyote slinking through the dark shadows of life.
A hand thrust the rifle barrel skyward and twisted it from her grip. “No, Maggie.” Chase stood in front of her. Before Buck could attempt to flee, two riders halted their horses on the ravine’s rim, covering him with their guns. She looked at Chase, half-puzzled that he had stopped her. Within the grimness of his expression, there was the ache of sadness. “He’s the closest I’ve ever come to having a brother,” he explained quietly.
He had spared her brother, whom she loved despite everything, and was asking the same for himself. With a muted cry, she went into his arms, wrapping her own around his shoulders and pressing herself close to his side. Her face was buried against his shirt as his hand moved to once again apply pressure to his wound. She felt the brush of his lips against her hair and shuddered in relieved longing.
“Is Mom all right?” She heard Ty ask.
“She’s fine. We’re both fine,” Chase answered.
A sky of promise,
A sky so grand,
This sky that carries
The Calder brand.