Blaze’s throat caught. “No. Pa wasn’t like that.”
Rachel swallowed hard, clinging to his sleeve.
“Time’s tickin’!” Wilder shouted. “Hand it over, or we’ll come and take it.”
“Come then!” Blaze’s mother shouted back. “And you’ll get lead for your trouble.”
Laughter rolled across the yard. Horses pawed at the dirt. Blaze’s heart hammered so hard he thought Wilder might hearit. Finally, he gripped the Colt 1851 Navy off the wall, the weight foreign in his hand. His palms sweated around the wooden grip.
“Boy,” Wilder called. “You still hidin’ behind your mama’s skirts? Or are you gonna come out and be a man?”
Blaze pressed the revolver to his chest.
“I ain’t comin’ out,” he whispered.
“That’s what I thought,” Wilder jeered after a moment of silence. “He’s yella, same as his pa.”
“He’s wrong,” Blaze hissed.
“Don’t let him bait you,” his mother said. “That’s what he wants.”
Blaze swallowed the rage boiling up inside him. He wanted to shout back, to run out guns blazing. But Rachel’s wide eyes stopped him. His mother’s steady hand held him in place.
“Stay strong,” she said. “Stay quiet.”
“What do we do?” Rachel whispered.
“We wait,” Blaze said, though his voice trembled. “We wait and we don’t give in.”
“One more chance,” Wilder called. “Step out with the gold, and maybe I’ll let you keep your hides.”
“No gold here,” Blaze’s mother answered, firm. “Only a family you’ve already tried to ruin. Ride on before God strikes you down.”
Silence stretched. Blaze could hear his own breath. Then Wilder laughed again.
“God don’t ride these parts, widow. Only me.”
Bang!
Blaze jerked as the shot ripped the night apart. His mother staggered near the window, the Hawken Plains rifle slipping from her hands and clattering to the floorboards.
Chapter 3
“Ma!” Blaze cried.
She gasped, her hand pressed against the sudden dark bloom spreading across her chest. Her eyes darted toward Blaze and Rachel, wide with pain but still fierce.
“Stay...with your sister,” she whispered, the words breaking apart like dry sticks.
Rachel screamed, shrill and broken. “No! Mama!”
She lurched forward, but Blaze caught her, arms tight around her waist. He dragged her back even as his own legs shook. His throat burned. His mother swayed, her back hitting the wall. Then she slumped to the floor.
“No!” Blaze’s cry tore from deep in his chest. His knees nearly gave out, but he held Rachel, who was thrashing against him.
Wilder sat tall in his saddle, his silver tooth glinting as he spun his Smith & Wesson Model 3 revolver on his finger.
“Told her plain,” he said. “Give it over, or lose somethin’ dear. Guess she made her choice.”
