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“You’re very quiet tonight,” Tara accused as they swayed with the music, their feet barely moving on the crowded dance floor.
“What?” Ty looked down at her blankly, then realized what she’d said. “Sorry, I guess my mind’s on other things.”
“It’s not very flattering to be dancing with your wife and looking like you’re a thousand miles away,” she chided him without too much concern. “Did you see who is here?”
“You mean Jessy?” With so many newcomers in town, there were few other customers he’d recognized.
“Jessy Niles? Is she here?” Tara stiffened, looking quickly around the dance floor before locating the girl, dancing with a sandy-haired cowboy. “They make a nice-looking couple, don’t they?” She didn’t wait for a response. “I wasn’t referring to her. I meant your uncle. He’s standing over there by the back door.”
A single crease rent his brow as Ty looked at Culley O’Rourke leaning against the wall by the back door, among the spectators watching the pool game in progress. His face was half hidden by the shadows cast by the light above the pool table, but that shock of gray hair was highlighted.
“I certainly never expected to see him here tonight,” Tara remarked and shrugged indifferently. “But I guess the wolves have to come out of the hills sometimes.”
The song ended. They were momentarily caught in the jam of couples trying to leave the small dance floor. Another record began a fast-tempoed song as Ty guided Tara through an opening.
He heard a male voice say, “Come on, honey. Let’s you and I dance this one.”
It was his sister who said a sharp “No!”
The stubborn and willful tone of her voice struck a warning, and Ty swung around. In a temper, his younger sister had no qualms about causing a scene. A husky blond had hold of her hand and was trying to persuade her to go onto the dance floor with him. The boy was trying to appear manly and forceful.
“I don’t want to dance with you!” Cat stormed, never reacting well to force. But the boy just laughed. Ty saw trouble coming, but he was too far away. “Repp!” There was an impatient ring in her voice as Cat called for her would-be knight in shining armor to rescue her.
“What is it, Ty?” Tara was at his arm as he tried to push through the crowd to his sister.
“Just stay here.” He lifted her hand from his arm.
By then, Repp Taylor was already on the scene. The crowd backed up, giving the pair room and tightening the press of people Ty had to get through. He never heard what was said, but a fist was swung and Cat screamed.
Bulling his way past the crowd, Ty made to break up the scuffling pair. Repp’s nose was already bloodied and he was trying to throw all his weight into the husky blond and get him on the floor. When Ty tried to pry them apart, a rooting spectator jumped into the melee, thinking he was ganging up on the town boy.
Tara had made her way to Cathleen’s side and put her arm around the girl. She watched in shocked silence as a man came hurling out of the crowd and straight at Ty. Swinging fists lashed out so quickly she couldn’t discern who was hitting whom.
With a Calder in the fight, more Triple C riders came to his support. There were no more than a half dozen in the tavern, badly outnumbered by the local residents. But all of them seemed to be spoiling for the excitement of a fight.
As bodies crashed together and fists struck flesh and bone, Tara clutched Cathleen tightly and huddled close to the wall next to the jukebox. Ty was in the center of the brawl, blood pouring from a cut near his eye, his teeth bared below the black brush of a mustache and a killing look in his dark eyes.
All she could hear were the gruntings of breath, the shuffling of feet, and the ripping and smashing of flesh. It was barbaric, the brutal violence sickening her, yet she couldn’t look away.
“Somebody stop them!” she cried, but no one heard her above the din of the brawl and the blare of the jukebox.
Ty’s lungs were heaving for air and he could feel the pounding of his heart. He hadn’t been in a knock-down, drag-out fight like this since his college days. His head was swimming and there was a roar in his ears. He checked one blow from a nameless opponent; a second slammed into his shoulder. It was hard to see out of one eye, but he pressed the fight, smashing the flat of his knuckles into the man’s face and seeing it roll out of his vision.
With that attack repelled, he staggered slightly to see where the next one would come from. He shook his head, blinking in an effort to clear the film from his eye. There was the shattering crash of a beer bottle being broken. He turned. The jagged neck was held in the hand of the man he’d just knocked down.
Ty backed up from it, crouching slightly and spreading out his arms. The fight had taken an ugly turn, no longer just a brawlfest. Some of the participants who had been in it just for fun retreated to the sidelines. Ty’s mouth was dry, and he wetted it as they started slowly circling.
“Ty!” Someone shouted his name above the loud music from the jukebox. “Catch!”
Taking his eyes off the man’s sweating face for an instant, Ty saw the brown shape of a beer bottle sailing through the air toward him. He made a one-handed catch of it and glimpsed Jessy on the inner circle of the onlookers.
Swift movement came at him and he jumped back, the jagged weapon slashing the air where he’d been. The closest thing to him was the jukebox. Ty brought the body of the bottle onto a metal corner with a hard swing, breaking it with a crash and turning to face his opponent, equally armed. He heard a woman’s screaming sob, but it was far on the fringes of his interest as he dragged in breaths and fought the tiredness in his arms.
“Break it up! Out of the way!” A hard voice of authority barked the orders. “Break it up here!”
Uniformed men broke through the readily dividing crowd, grabbing and seizing Ty’s opponent from behind. Ty straightened slowly, lowering his hands. His battered fingers loosened their grip on the bottle neck, letting it fall to the floor. He couldn’t recognize any of the officers through his hazing vision.
Distantly, he heard one of them mutter his name. “It’s Calder.”
