This Calder Sky
Page 41
Chase walked steadily toward them, each long stride shortening the distance. The blue of his chambray shirt was showing patches of sweat. The corners of his mouth were turned inward. There was a stillness about him, a containment, a cold fury held in check.
“What do you want, Buck?” Chase demanded in an unemotional tone. “Me? Money? A free ticket out of here? Name your price for Maggie’s release.”
“Stop right there!” It was a nervous bark that halted Chase ten feet away. “I’m no fool, Chase. You wouldn’t live up to any bargain once I turn Maggie loose.”
“I give you my word that I’ll meet any of your terms.” Then his voice rumbled from some deep, dark place inside. “But so help me God, if you harm her, you’ll never be able to run far enough to get away from me. And I give you my word on that, too.”
The arm relaxed around her throat, her feet coming fully to the ground again. Buck was breathing hard, an animal trapped with nowhere to hide. Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie saw him lick his lips nervously, thinking—all the time, thinking.
“What if I said you could have Maggie, if you signed the Triple C over to me? Is she worth that much to you?” Buck wanted to know. “Would you give me the ranch for her?”
“Yes.” Chase stood completely motionless, his muscles coiled in readiness for an opening—any opening.
Buck unwrapped his arm from her neck and Maggie tried to take a step away from him, bring an end to her use as a shield. His hand closed around the underside of her arm, keeping her at his side.
“You’re going to stay right here with me,” he ordered. Then he added, in a menacing tone, “You make a move to leave and I’ll shoot him. So I wouldn’t do anything to upset me, because I’d just as soon kill him.”
She believed him. At this point, he had nothing to lose. He’d kill them all if he thought he could get away with it. She stood rigidly beside him, her heart going out to Chase, so close, yet so far.
“I’ll sign the ranch over to you the minute you turn Maggie loose, Buck,” Chase repeated.
“You want her that bad, huh?” Buck taunted. “You really think she’s worth that much, or are you just leading me on?”
“I give you my word.” The promise was drawn through his teeth.
“I don’t trust you, Chase.” He backed off the conditions he’d set, doubting that they would be carried through. There were too many snags, too many repercussions. Chase would never let him get away with what he’d attempted. But he couldn’t help wondering how far Chase would go, how far he could push him. “If you want Maggie, you’ll have to beg me. Get down on your knees, Chase.”
Maggie’s lips parted in a silent outcry at the demand. Buck wanted Chase to grovel at his feet, strip his pride, and humiliate him in front of his wife and son, and the Triple C veterans. She looked at Chase, her mind flashing back to a time when she had wanted to see him on his knees begging for mercy.
A violent rage swept across Chase’s face and vibrated through him. A searing rawness burned his insides, scraping at his throat. There was a loud roaring in his ears. Silhouetted against the sharply blue sky, he was the power on this chunk of earth, but he was utterly helpless.
“On your knees, Calder!” Buck spoke each word clearly and with taunting precision. “You want Maggie, then beg me!”
Anguish was in his brown eyes. He swayed and sank to one knee, his teeth bared against the effort. In that shocked instant, Maggie knew she couldn’t stand it if Chase laid down everything for her. This abandoning of power and strength would live always in their memory. No matter how much he loved her, Chase would hate himself for the rest of his life for surrendering his self-respect. It was an ugly sacrifice that would ultimately split them.
“Chase! No! Don’t!” She screamed the protest to stop him from going down on both knees before Buck.
Instinctively, she leaned forward. Buck roughly yanked her back, cursing her as he struck her across the mouth with the back of his hand. The blow sent her reeling backward to land heavily on the ground. There was a roaring sound like a charging range bull, followed by Buck’s startled shout. When Maggie looked back, Chase was lunging for Buck. The explosion of the rifle shot deafened her ears and she cried out when Chase jerked. But he kept coming, right over the top of the rifle, knocking it aside and swinging at Buck. As she struggled to rise, she saw Buck fall. Then Chase was there, pulling her to her feet, half-carrying her and half-shielding her while he pushed her to safety amidst a shower of bullets that kicked up plumes of dust. Dazed by the confusion of muffled shouts and gunfire, it was a second before she realized the men had recovered their rifles and were peppering the area with gunshots to cover their escape.
An empty wash, eroded out of the rough land by centuries of rain, offered them shelter. They entered it, half-sliding and half-falling into the shallow ravine, and paused to rest against the bulwark of its bank. At Chase’s muffled grunt of pain, Maggie turned her head to look at him. His features were contorted in a grimace as he wadded up the red kerchief from his pocket and pressed it to the spreading red stain on his right side.
“You’ve been shot!” She moved to investigate the seriousness of the wound.
“It’s okay,” he insisted tightly. “The bullet glanced off the ribs, probably broke a couple. He didn’t have time to aim, but it would have taken more than a bullet to stop me from getting to you.” He winced as he applied pressure to the wound to stem the flow of blood.
“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.
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POCKET BOOKS
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Don’t miss the first four
classic novels in the beloved
Calder family series from
JANET DAILEY
This Calder Range
This Calder Sky
Stands a Calder Man
Calder Born, Calder Bred
JANET DAILEY is the author of scores of popular, uniquely American novels, including the bestselling The Glory Game; Silver Wings, Santiago Blue; The Pride of Hannah Wade; and the phenomenal CALDER SAGA. Since her first novel was published in 1975, Janet Dailey has become the bestselling female author in America, with more than three hundred million copies of her books in print. Her books have been published in 17 languages and are sold in 90 different countries. Janet Dailey’s careful research and her intimate knowledge of America have made her one of the best-loved authors in the country—and around the world.