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  “What are you doing out here, McCall?”

  “Just riding around, thinking back,” Evan said, feigning interest in his surroundings. “You know, bringing back some memories.”

  “Look,” Burkett said, “this land may have been yours once, but now it’s mine—my father’s and mine'and you don’t belong here. I told you once and I’ll tell you again. Haul ass!”

  “Your father know what a bite you have when you have Conners to back you up?”

  John Burkett’s hand went for his gun, but Chuck Conner’s hand got there first, blocking the move.

  “Take it easy, kid,” he said. “Remember who his brother is.”

  “I’m looking at him, not his damned brother,” John Burkett said.

  “I agree with the lad.”

  “Get going, McCall,” Conner said, “before I see if you can take the two of us at once.”

  “I’m going, young Mr. Burkett, I’m going,” Evan said, turning his horse.

  “And don’t come back!”

  Evan waved at the men and started off at a leisurely pace. He wanted to avoid trouble, but he didn’t want them to think they had run him off.

  Although, of course, that was exactly what they had done.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Evan McCall returned to the Miller house before Sam did.

  “Sam back yet?” he asked Jubal as he entered.

  “No. Anything wrong?”

  “No,” Evan said. “I finished at the courthouse early and rode out to find him. It was a bad idea.”

  “What happened?”

  “I ran into John Burkett, Chuck Conners, and another man I took to be the geologist.”

  “Anything happen?”

  “Not much,” Evan said. “We all acted tough—except for the geologist. He just sat on his horse and looked scared.”

  “And you didn’t see Sam?”

  “No,” Evan said. “It was a bad idea to go looking for him. He always knew the ranch better than I did.”

  “He should be back soon, shouldn’t he?” Serena asked. Neither of the brothers had seen her enter from the kitchen.

  “He should,” Evan agreed, “depending on what he found.”

  Or, Evan thought to himself, on who found him.

  Sam’s original intention after he left the stream was to ride back to town, but he decided to continue looking around. He figured he might find some more locations where there was black mud. He searched until early evening and found only one more place, not far from the firstone. This one was at a water hole, a small basin of water where the black mud seemed to bubble up from below. Finally, he gave up, washed the mud off his hands in another stream, and headed back toward town.

  When Burkett, Conners, and Cord returned to the ranch, Cord went off to do his tests while John Burkett and Conners sought out the elder Burkett. They found him out by the corral, where he had been talking to a couple of hands. He walked away from those men to talk to his son and his foreman.

  “Did Cord get what he needed?” Lincoln Burkett asked.

  “I guess he did,” John said. “He poked around in the mud for an hour and then brought some back with him.”

  “Good,” Lincoln Burkett said. “Before long we should know what we have. Now tell me what else happened.”

  “We ran across one of the McCalls,” Conners said.

  “Sam?”

  “No, Evan, the gambler.”

  “And?”

  “I would have taken him if Chuck hadn’t stopped me,” John Burkett said.

  “Don’t be a fool, boy,” Lincoln Burkett said. “The man would have killed you.”

  “We’re talking about Evan McCall, not Big Sam,” John Burkett said.

  “Evan McCall is no slouch with a gun,” Chuck Conners said.

  “And what if you had killed him?” the elder Burkett asked. “Sam McCall would track you down and shoot you like a dog.”

  “I’m not afraid of Sam McCall.”

  “You should be,” Lincoln Burkett said.

  “Are you?”

  “Damn right.”

  “You’re not afraid of anyone.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, boy,” Lincoln Burkett said. “If I had to face him I would, and if I could kill him I would, but that doesn’t mean I’m not afraid of him. You should always fear and respect men like Sam McCall, and men like Coffin.”

  “What are we paying Coffin for?” the younger Burkett demanded. “So far all he’s done is sit in town eating and drinking and whoring.”

  “So far that’s all I’m paying him for.”

  “Why don’t we send him after Sam McCall?”

  “I will,” Burkett said, “eventually, but the time’s not right yet.” The older man looked at his foreman and said, “What was Evan McCall doing on my land?”

  “He said he was just riding around, thinking of old memories.”

  Lincoln Burkett rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

  “You think they know what’s on this land?”

  “I don’t know—”

  “If old man Joshua knew and wrote it down somewhere, they may know, too.”

  “And if they do?”

  “If they do,” Lincoln Burkett said, “I’ll have to move my timetable up.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning I may have to use Coffin sooner than I’d planned. Chuck, get some of the men together, send them out in groups of four or five.”

  “What do you want them to do?”

  “I want anyone who doesn’t belong on our land chased off.”

  “That include Sam McCall?”

  “Yes,” Burkett said, “that includes Sam McCall.”

  “You want McCall killed?”

  Burkett took a moment to ruminate over that.

  “I don’t want to lose any more men, but this would bedifferent from an ambush in town. He’d be trespassing, and we’d have a right to shoot him.”

  “Tell me what you want them to do, Mr. Burkett, and they’ll do it.”

  “I’ll ride out, too, Pa,” John Burkett said. “If we see Sam McCall, we’ll kill him.”

  “You stay here. I don’t want to take a chance on you getting killed.”

  “Pa—”

  “Do as I say!”

  John Burkett gave his father a murderous glare and then stalked away.

  “You hurt his pride,” Conners said.

  “I’d rather have that than have him get killed. Look, Chuck, talk to the men, make them understand that I don’t want them going after Sam McCall unless they’re absolutely sure they’ve got him outnumbered and out in the open. Once he gets himself in a position to shoot back, I want them to lightout. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “Well, make sure they understand. I’ll settle for them just chasing him off the property, if that’s all they can accomplish.”

  “I’ll make sure they know.”

  “All right,” Lincoln Burkett said. “I’d better talk to Cord, and then I’ll talk to the boy.”

  “He’s not a boy anymore, Mr. Burkett.”

  “Maybe not,” Lincoln Burkett said, “but he’s certainly not thinking like a man yet, either. If he’s somewhere in the middle I’ll settle for that, because that’s more than I’ve gotten from him in a long time.”

  “That’s him.”

  Jim Priest was pointing down at a lone rider. He and his men had topped a rise and spotted the rider immediately.

  “How do you know?” Len Unger asked.

  “He’s riding a coyote dun,” Priest said. “I heard in town that Sam McCall rides a coyote dun.”

  He turned and looked at Unger and the two men with him.

  “What do we do?” Unger asked. “Take him?”

  “Well,” Priest said, “he is out in the open, and we do outnumber him.”

  “So did Mike Gear and six other men in town,” Unger reminded him.

  “You have a point.”

  “Dan Hitchcock and his group are about ten mil
es east of here,” Bill Granger said.

  “And McCall is riding that way,” Unger said.

  “Good idea,” Priest said. “We’ll hook up with Hitchcock and his men, and then we’ll take him.”

  The others agreed, and so the four began to ride parallel to Sam McCall.

  Sam spotted them immediately. If they hadn’t been trying so hard not to be seen, he probably wouldn’t have seen them.

  At first he expected them to come riding down the hill, most likely shooting at him. When they didn’t, he figured they were just there to watch him. He didn’t mind if they watched him because he wasn’t doing anything—now. He was simply riding back to town.

  Suddenly he became aware that there were eight men instead of four. That meant that they would be twice as brave as before.

  He was already spurring his horse on when he heard the first shot.

  The fact that Big Sam McCall was running from them and not turning to fight them made the eight men, led by Jim Priest and Dan Hitchcock, even braver than before.

  This caused several of them to ride faster, leaving behind others whose horses couldn’t keep up. As they stretched out behind Sam McCall they didn’t realize that this made them somewhat less menacing.

  The man in front was Len Unger. His horse, a strapping mahogany bay, was the fastest of the eight. It was even starting to cut into the distance between Unger and McCall’s dun.

  Sam guessed that they would probably chase him until he was off Burkett property. However, they were so filled with false courage that he could smell it. In such a condition they might chase him to the ends of the earth. He had to do something to deflate their courage.

  Without warning Sam reined his dun around to stand sideways. He drew his gun, pointed at the lead man, who by this time was far ahead of the others, and fired. The man fired just a split second before Sam did. His bullet smacked into Sam’s thigh just before Sam’s bullet hit him in the center of his chest.

  The impact of the bullet almost made Sam drop his gun. He holstered the weapon and grabbed his saddle pommel with both hands. Actually, he was glad the bullet had hit his thigh. A little to the right or left and the horse would have bought it. With a dead horse he would have been at the mercy of his pursuers.

  Satisfied that one dead man would deter the other seven, he turned his horse and headed back to town on the run. He had to get there before loss of blood made him fall out of his saddle.

  “Jesus!” Jim Priest shouted when he saw Len Unger.

  Priest was the first to reach Unger. He dismounted and checked his fallen comrade.

  The others caught up and looked down at Priest.

  “One shot, through the chest,” Priest said, looking up at them. “Clean.”

  They all looked up at the rapidly dwindling figure of Sam McCall.

  “Ah,” Hitchcock said, “let him go.”

  “Yeah,” Priest said, standing up, “maybe he let us go, huh?”

  Sam stopped only long enough to press his bandanna to the wound and tie it there with his belt. Either it was getting dark, or he was in danger of passing out. If he passed out he only hoped that the horse would find its way back to town.

  “It’s getting dark,” Serena said, looking out the front window.

  “She’s worried about Sam,” Jubal said to Dude Miller.

  “You’re not?” Miller asked.

  “Sam can take care of himself,” Evan said.

  “Sure,” Serena said, folding her arms beneath her breasts, “we saw that earlier in the week, didn’t we?”

  “Serena,” Miller said, “take it easy.”

  “I’ll take it easy when he gets back,” she said, turning back to the window.

  “Maybe she’s right,” Evan said to Jubal. “Maybe we should go and look for him.”

  “Sam’s all right, Evan,” Jubal said. “He don’t need us to look after him. I still think he woulda handled all seven of those—”

  “Someone’s coming,” Serena said, suddenly. “On a horse.”

  Evan looked at Jubal and said, “Why wouldn’t he take his horse to the livery?”

  Rising, Jubal said, “Why don’t we go ask him?”

  The four of them went out the front door to meet whoever was approaching. Serena was the first out the door, and as the horse was reined in she ran up to it.

  “Sam,” she said, putting her hand on his thigh, “we were so worried.”

  She felt something wet and sticky on her hand but before she could say anything Sam suddenly started to fall toward her.

  “Sam!”

  “Watch out!” Evan said.

  He moved Serena out of the way in time to catch Sam before he hit the ground. Jubal rushed forward and took some of his older brother’s weight.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Serena asked.

  “He’s been shot,” Evan said. “Jube, get the doctor.”

  “Dude, help Evan,” Jubal said.

  “I’ll get the doctor,” Serena said.

  “No, Serena,” Evan said. “Stay here.”

  Dude Miller came forward and took Sam’s legs from Jubal, who left to get help.

  “Let’s get him inside and see how bad he’s hurt,” Evan said.

  Serena went ahead and opened the door, and Miller and Evan carried Sam in.

  “Is he all right?” she asked anxiously.

  “He’s unconscious,” Evan said.

  “Should we take him upstairs?” Miller asked.

  “No, no, put him on the sofa,” Evan said, “on the sofa.

  Serena, get some water and some clean cloths.”

  Serena ran into the kitchen while Evan located the wound. When he found it he removed Sam’s belt and bandanna and tore Sam’s pants so he could look at it.

  When Serena came back she said, “Shouldn’t we wait for Doc Leader?”

  “At Doc’s age it could take him some time to get here,” Evan said. “I just want to see what we’ve got.”

  He grabbed a cloth, wet it, and washed the area around the wound.

  “How bad?” Serena asked.

  “Could be worse,” Evan said. “It could have hit his horse.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Serena demanded.

  Evan looked at her and said, “It means if the bullet had killed his horse he wouldn’t have been able to get away.”

  Serena looked contrite and said, “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Evan said.

  He took another cloth, folded it, and pressed it to the wound.

  “Serena, hold this here,” he said, “we’ve got to slow the bleeding until Doc arrives.”

  Serena got down on her knees next to the sofa and pressed her hand to the wound. The torn pants legs was soaked in blood, and Evan tore it the rest of the way down and folded it away from Sam’s leg so he could check for breaks.

  “His leg isn’t broken,” Evan said.

  “Glad to hear it,” Doc Leader said, entering the room.

  “Now everyone out except Serena.”

  “Doc—” Serena said.

  “And if you’re gonna stay, you’re gonna have to keep quiet.”

  Doc hunkered down next to Serena, then looked up at the other men.

  “You heard me…out!”

  Evan looked at Miller and Jubal and said, “Let’s make some coffee.”

  Evan, Jubal and Miller were sitting at the kitchen table when Doc Leader came in.

  “He’s fine,” Doc said. He put a basin down on the table. It contained bloody water and a spent bullet. He wiped his hands on a white cloth. “The wound is clean, I got thebullet, and there’s no infection. He’ll be fine. Who’s payin’ my bill?”

  “I am,” Evan said.

  “I should—” Miller said, but Evan cut him off.

  “He’s my brother.”

  “We’ll pay the bill,” Jubal said, standing up.

  Doc Leader nodded and said, “Put him upstairs in a bed and leave Serena with him. She’ll be a better nurse than an
y of you.”

  “All right, Doc,” Evan said, “thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me until I tell you how much I’m charging.”

  “Doc,” Evan said, “I don’t care how much you charge.”

  Doc Leader grinned and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

  “You’re gonna be sorry you said that.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Sam woke up the first thing he saw was Serena’s face.

  “Thank God,” he said.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I thought when I opened my eyes I’d see one of my brothers,” he said. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. “I much prefer this.”

  “Sam,” she said, “I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “I must be delirious,” he said, and passed out again.

  The next time he woke up he saw Evan.

  “I knew it was too good to be true.”

  “Serena sat up all night with you,” Evan said. “But now she needs some sleep.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “You want to tell me what happened?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said, “they improved by one.”

  “What?”

  “Eight of ’em this time.”

  “Eight?”

  “Yeah. They were running me down, feeling brave. I killed one of them…” He trailed off, his mouth going dry.

  “Put the fear of God into the others, huh?”

  “Yeah, fella I killed got off a shot, though. I must be gettin’ old.”

  “That’s more than a lot of people can say,” Evan said.

  “You want some water?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Evan lifted his brother’s head and held the water glass to his lips.

  “Thanks.”

  “Get some more rest, Sam,” Evan said. “You lost a lot of blood.”

  “Gotta get up…”

  “Yeah, sure,” Evan said, “later.”

  “Later…” Sam said.

  When Serena walked into the room Sam was sitting up, reaching for his pants. It was a clean pair that had come from the Miller store.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I think I’m tryin’ to reach my pants,” Sam said.

  “When I reach them I’m gonna try to put them on. Do you wanna watch?”

  She folded her arms and said, “What happened to that sweet man who was here last night?”