Part 15 (2/2)
”Blade Royal drove off the horses,” he shouted as he pounded across the yard toward them. ”Tom and the men have gone to have a shootout. And Sydney's mad as fire they wouldn't let him go.”
Chapter Ten.
Chet didn't feel comfortable in the silent house. Despite Melody's saying he wasn't responsible for their troubles, he couldn't get rid of the feeling that she thought he ought to do something. Since he didn't know where Tom had gone, what he planned to do, or anything about the situation, he was at a loss to know what he could do. Even if he knew where they were, he couldn't just ride up and take over. The men wouldn't accept him. Even if they did, it would humiliate Tom. Chet wouldn't do that.
Yet as long as the men were gone, the fear of what might be happening remained uppermost in everyone's mind. Sydney stayed outside, watching for their return, hoping to find an excuse to join them, despite his mother's orders to Tom not to leave even one saddle horse in the corral. Neill ran between Sydney and the house, reporting every irrational threat the boy uttered. Melody ignored them. Belle grew more agitated by the minute.
”Blade didn't run off the horses,” she kept saying. ”Lantz would never let him do such a thing. It was horse thieves. They'll kill everybody.”
”I doubt Tom will let that happen,” Melody said.
”You should have gone after them,” Belle said to Chet. ”You're a gunman. You'd know what to do.”
”He's been shot twice because of us,” Melody said. ”I don't think it's fair to ask him to risk another injury, especially since he's not recovered from the last one.”
A series of gunshots caused Belle to start violently. ”Why must Sydney practice his target shooting now? He knows how badly it upsets my nerves.”
”He's practicing because he's angry,” Melody said. ”He's doing it near the house because he knows it will upset you. You were the one who stopped him from riding with Tom. He won't forgive you.”
”I couldn't let him go. He's just a body. And he's your brother. You ought to be as concerned as I am.”
”I am,” Melody a.s.sured her stepmother. ”I was just explaining what he's doing and why.”
Another burst of gunfire shattered the quiet.
Belle put her hands over her ears. ”I can't stand it. I'll go crazy if he doesn't stop.”
”I'll talk to him,” Chet said, getting to his feet.
”He doesn't like you,” Belle reminded him.
”I can still talk to him.”
”Thank you,” Melody said. ”He'll probably listen to you before he listens to one of us.”
”I'm not so sure.” Chet doubted he could do anything more than try to take Sydney's mind off his perceived slight. Though that was a thankless task, it was better than staying inside and having to endure Belle's accusing glare.
”What are you going to do?” Neill shot out of the kitchen as Chet walked past. ”You riding after them? You didn't bring your guns. Where are your guns?”
”I'm not going after anybody,” Chet said. ”That's Tom's job.”
”But he can't shoot like you. He couldn't hit a peach can if I tossed it up a hundred times.”
”It's still his job. I'm looking for Sydney. Do you know where he is?”
”Over behind the bunkhouse. He's real mad. He told me to get lost or he'd put a bullet through my hat. I'm not wearing a hat. Do you think he'll shoot me anyway?”
”I don't think so, but you can tag along with me just in case.” More shots sounded from behind the bunkhouse. ”Does he practice often?”
”Lots, but Melody won't let him shoot near the house. That makes Sydney mad, and he hollers at her. She doesn't back down. Tom says Melody never backs down about anything. Mama says she ought to. Mama says no man's going to marry a woman who argues with every word that comes out of his mouth.”
Chet could just imagine some of the arguments that had taken place since Melody's arrival. He smiled to himself. She and Isabelle were a lot alike. Isabelle adored Jake, but she didn't hesitate to let him know when she disagreed with him. Chet was certain Melody would do the same. He rounded the corner of the bunkhouse in time to see Sydney taking aim at a target he'd nailed to a corral post. He drew too quickly, fired before his gun was level, and jerked the trigger. He missed the target all three times. Tim Speers and Toby had come out to watch. Their snickers made Sydney's mood blacker.
”You need to work on making your draw smoother, one single motion,” Chet said. ”And you should squeeze the trigger gently. It won't matter how smoothly you draw if you jerk the trigger. It'll throw your aim off.”
”I know all that,” Sydney growled. ”I hit everything when I'm not angry.”
”You can't afford to let anger ruin your aim,” Chet said. ”You can be sure the other man won't.”
Sydney didn't look thankful for the advice.
”You ought to move farther away from the house,” Chet said.
Sydney looked belligerent. ”I don't have to do what you say. Anyway, there's n.o.body here. No horses either. I can't hit anything.”
”Your mother's worried about Tom and the men,” Chet said. ”These gunshots are upsetting her.”
”She ought to have let me go with Tom,” Sydney shot back. ”Then I wouldn't be bothering her.”
”She's worried about you. She doesn't want you to get hurt.”
”Mama says the rustlers would shoot Sydney first because he's an owner,” Neill said.
”I'm not afraid of rustlers or Blade Royal,” Sydney growled at his younger brother. ”I can shoot better than any of them.”
Chet guessed Sydney must have some skill, but the pristine target didn't support his brag.
”Maybe you can,” Chet said, ”but they've got more experience, and that's extremely important to a gunfighter.”
”I don't intend to be a gunfighter,” Sydney said, the contempt in his voice indicating what he thought of anyone who was. ”I just mean to be better than anybody else.”
”If you're that good,” Chet said, ”you'll have to become a gunfighter just to stay alive.”
Sydney didn't appear to have considered that aspect of the problem. Chet suspected he wasn't nearly so enamored of guns as everyone thought. He was teetering on the edge of becoming an adult, eager to be thought a man but unsure of how to do it. He couldn't be expected to listen to Belle and Melody. No boy his age wanted to be told what to do by his mother and sister. He hadn't found a man he could respect. Until he did, he'd continue to imitate men like Blade Royal.
Chet knew he couldn't do much, but he had to try.
”Is that why you're quitting?” Sydney asked.
”It's reason enough,” Chet replied.
”What if you're better than everybody else?”
”Sooner or later somebody will get lucky. Or they'll shoot you in the back like they did my father. Much better to stick with being an owner.”
<script>