This Calder Sky (53 page)

He gave Maggie a grimly mocking look as she
staggered to her feet, hampered by her wrists, tied in front of her. “It was a nice try, Maggie, but you only postponed the inevitable. The kid isn't going to find any help,” he jeered, “not in that direction.” With a sinking heart, Maggie realized that the horse and rider were streaking north. “In ten minutes he'll be lost. I won't have any trouble finding him. This just rearranges things. A fella's gotta stay flexible. I'll work it the other way around—dispose of you now, then hunt down the kid. The result's the same.”

Less than three miles from the scene, the sight of a cottonwood and willow barrier forced Ty to rein his puffing horse to a halt. Through the thick-leaved limbs, he had a glimpse of sunshine glittering on the smooth surface of water and realized he was lost. They had crossed no river.

It was three o'clock and his shadow lay on the grass to his right. The discovery that he'd incorrectly ridden north brought a groan of despair. The pickup was to the east—the pickup, with its citizen's-band radio and the rifle in the rear window rack. He reined his horse to the right to put the sun at his back and kicked it into a reluctant gallop.

Water splashed, followed by the grunts of horses laboring up a bank and the groan of saddle leather and jangle of bridle chains. Ty almost cried aloud with relief when he saw the quartet of riders gallop into view with his father at the head. His hoarse shout pulled them to a halt, their horses plunging excitedly when he approached.

“Where's Buck?” His father's question was urgent and demanding.

Ty waved a hand to the south. “He's got Mom. He's going to kill her, I think.” And he breathlessly explained the little he'd overheard and noticed how white his father seemed beneath the layers of tan. Yet none of the information appeared to startle him.

“Show us where you left them,” Chase ordered. He loosened the flap securing his rifle in the scabbard and pulled it free. The trio of riders followed suit.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she was thinking clearly. The more time she gave Ty to get away, the longer it would take for Buck to find him, which strengthened the chance that someone from the ranch would stumble across them. The galloping hooves of Ty's horse faded from her hearing as she lifted her gaze from the rifle muzzle in Buck's hands. She had to keep him talking.

“You aren't going to get away with this. Somewhere you'll slip up. Look at what already has gone wrong. Nothing is going the way you planned.” She tried to puncture his confidence, make him hesitate.

“I've gone too far to turn back now.” He shrugged and the rifle barrel swung away from her. “I know how to cover my tracks.”

“When Chase finds out I'm missing, he'll turn this place upside down looking for me. How can you be sure there isn't something of mine here that would be incriminating evidence?” Her hat was on the ground, knocked off when she fell while tripping Buck. “Are you positive that you can wipe out all traces?”

With the rifle cradled in the crook of his arm, the muzzle pointed down, he scooped the hat off the ground and walked over to push it on top of her head. “It'd be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.”

“How are you going to get rid of my body so no one
will find it?” She spoke matter-of-factly, not letting her imagination dwell on the subject. “You're running out of time, Buck. If you dig a shallow grave, you run the risk of a coyote uncovering it. My bones will be found sooner or later, and people will start putting two and two together and coming up with your name.”

But he just smiled. “I'm not going to dig any grave for you. I'll just dump your body in the river.” He cocked his head to one side, his attitude smug and mocking. “Gas makes a corpse float. Did you know that? The insides bloat all up, making it buoyant. When I was in prison, my cellmate was a half-breed Arapaho. He told me about it and said you could keep a dead man from floating if you disemboweled him and filled him with rocks.” He paused, then observed, “You're looking a little pale, Maggie. I admit it's a grisly thought, but it is effective, very effective.”

“You're crazy.” She took a step backward, recoiling in a wary move and fighting the tremors that shook her.

His look became ugly. “You may think I'm crazy, but I'm not going to be cheated out of this ranch. It should have been mine from the beginning. I'm a better cowman, a better rider and roper. I'm better than Chase any day of the week. My mother, my grandparents—all the way back, it was their sweat and blood that built this ranch. I deserve to be in charge. It's my right as much as it is anyone's!” He walked over to grab the trailing reins of Maggie's grazing horse. His gesture was impatient as he motioned her over. “Get on your horse.”

“No.” She backed up another step. “I'm not going with you peaceably. And if you kill me here, then you'll have to carry me to the river. How would you explain the blood on the saddle?”

“Listen, you little bitch—” Buck took a step toward her just as her horse lifted its head and sent out a searching whicker to the right.

Maggie turned. “Chase!” She cried out his name as he crowned the jagged ridge of a hill and started down the slope at the head of a band of riders. She broke into a clumsy run, her coordination made awkward by the hands bound in front of her.

She had barely gone four feet when she was grabbed by the hair and jerked to a stop. An arm hooked around her neck, half-choking her, the toes of her boots barely scraping the ground. Her body acted as a shield for Buck, the barrel of the rifle lying diagonally across her front, the muzzle pointed up toward her head.

“Pull up, Chase!” Buck shouted the order. “That's close enough!”

Chase slid his horse to a plunging stop, the other riders spreading out behind him. “Let her go, Buck. You don't stand a chance against all of us.”

Her fingers dug into Buck's arm, straining to ease the strangling pressure on her throat. There were too many. It was impossible for Buck to salvage any remnant of his plan now. She could feel his desperation hover on panic.

“Throw away that rifle!” Buck called. The blood bay shifted nervously under Chase as he tightened his one-handed grip on his rifle and debated his chances, but the risk was too great for Maggie. He flung it into the tall grass. “Tell Nate and the others to ditch theirs.”

“Do what he says,” Chase growled under his breath and swung out of the saddle on the right side, stepping to the ground and facing Buck every minute. Behind him, he heard the thud of the rifles being dropped to the ground. “It's me you want, Buck, so let her go.”

“If I let her go, I'm finished. We both know that. She's my ticket now.”

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.”