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Chris reined her horse forward. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” Del said, his eyes on Samuel’s back.
“The two of them are going to settle it,” Tynan said. “Whoever wins gets the spoils of war.”
“But Samuel is an old man,” Chris said. “He can’t possibly have the reflexes of the younger man. And, besides, he has a right to leave his estate to whoever he wants.”
Del gave her one of his looks that told her he wanted her to shut up. “I am the executor of his estate. If Sam loses, I’ll see that the right person gets his money.”
“But then Dysan will be after you and—”
“Chris,” Tynan said softly. “Come over here and be quiet.”
She ignored her father’s look as she obeyed Tynan and moved her horse next to his. Her hands gripped the pommel until they were white as she watched Samuel and Beynard ride down the trail and into the trees. It seemed forever until they heard the first shot.
Chris gasped and held her breath and waited. And waited.
There was a second shot, then nothing.
She looked at Tynan, saw that the muscles in his jaw were working, then he kicked his horse forward and tore past the hundred gun-bearing men who had been hired by Dysan. He galloped into the trees to where Samuel and Beynard had disappeared.
Chris watched his cloud of dust for a moment, then she too kicked her horse and went after Ty. Behind her, she could hear her father shouting at her, then at his men, but she didn’t stop, just kept following Tynan into the trees.
She reached the clearing just as Ty was dismounting.
Samuel and Beynard were lying on the ground, both of them bloody. She jumped off her horse while it was still running, skidding to a halt just as Tynan was lifting Samuel.
The older man smiled up at Tynan. “It’s just a scratch. I can get up.”
Tynan turned to look at Chris. “What the hell are you doing here? Get back to your father.”
“I came to see if you were all right,” she answered angrily. “I thought you might need help.”
“Not from a half pint girl, I don’t. Now, get back to—”
Sam struggled to sit up, using Tynan’s help. He was smiling broadly. “As much as I like hearing the love play between the two of you, I think I’m bleeding to death.”
Chris smiled at Tynan with an I-told-you-so look, while he opened and closed his mouth twice, with nothing coming out.
Just then Del Mathison came riding into the clearing amid rocks and dust and a flurry of anger—all of it directed at his daughter.
“What happened here?” Tynan said in a half yell that was obviously meant to stop Del’s tirade.
Sam struggled to sit up while Chris ran to get bandages from her saddle bags. “We drew and I won. I thought he was dead but I went to him. He was my brother’s child, I knew him since he was a boy. There were times when I thought there was some hope for him, but his mother never allowed him to forget who she thought he was. No matter who he hurt, she was there behind him, telling him he had every right to do whatever he wanted. She hated me.”
“And made him hate you,” Chris said, handing Tynan the bandages. Ty cut the man’s shirt away. The wound was in the fleshy part of his upper arm, not bad, but painful. Chris moved so that Sam could rest against her while Ty bandaged him.
“Yes, he hated me. Said he wanted to show me he could make as much as me.” He paused. “It’s over now.”
“How’d you get shot?” Ty asked.
“I went to him after I’d shot him. He had a derringer up his sleeve. He used his last breath to shoot me with it.”
Chris leaned forward and kissed the man’s forehead. “It’s over now and we can all go home.”
Samuel took Chris’s hand and, while holding it, he looked up at Del. “This is what I wanted,” he said quietly.
Chris started to ask what he meant, but Del interrupted her with orders of what to do to get the place cleared up.
