LITMIR.BIZ

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his head hurt, but Hank took his silence as an affirmative answer. He’d rather do anything than go over to the Parkers’. Becky lived with her father, so she’d be there. A polite phone call would work just as well. Besides, seeing Becky twice in one day was more than his blood pressure could take.

      LUKE KEPT HIS DAD OUT on the ranch, determined he wasn’t going to sit in the house all day. They looked at the young bulls and his dad was excited, taking an interest. After lunch, Luke took him to see the paint horses, his dad’s pet project.

      The horses were kept separate from the cattle operation in their own pasture, corral and barn. Luke stopped the truck, helped his dad out and they walked to the pipe fence.

      A brown-and-white stallion threw up his head and stood on his hind legs. “Cochise needs to be ridden,” Henry said. “It’ll take some of that fire out of him.”

      Cochise pranced along the fence line. The tobiano paint had a white star on his forehead, and showed a marked degree of refinement and beauty in his strong-boned and well-balanced body. Paints were known for their distinctive coat pattern. Cochise’s face, neck, chest, belly and one flank were brown. The rest of his coat was white, including four stocking feet.

      Luke hoped he was seeing the beautiful colors correctly, but he still had a problem distinguishing the hues of reds and greens. It was a minor disability compared to what other soldiers had to deal with.

      And it was a whole lot better than dying.

      Leaning on the fence, he thought it strange that when he looked at Becky, he saw her in brilliant color. Could that be from memory? He quickly brushed the question away.

      He glanced at his dad. “I’ll ask the doctor when you can start riding again.”

      Henry grunted. “Not anytime soon. Can barely use my arm and leg.”

      “That’ll improve, just like your speech has.”

      “Maybe. But I want you to ride Cochise.”

      “Sure. I’ll give him a workout.”

      His dad grew tired and Luke drove him back to the house. Lucy met them at the door.

      “Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked eagerly.

      “Don’t fuss, Lu.” Henry slumped into his chair. “Bring me a cup of coffee.”

      “I’ll get it,” Luke said. His dad had a tendency to bellow orders at his mother and it kept her running all day.

      When he carried the coffee to him, Henry was asleep. Luke set it on the TV tray.

      “He’s just worn-out,” Lucy said.

      “That’s good for him.”

      Lucy suddenly hugged Luke around his waist. A petite woman, her head barely came to his shoulders. “I’m glad you’re home. Henry responds to you. Hank makes him so angry.”

      Luke hugged her back. Except for Becky, he’d missed his mom the most while he’d been away from home. “The past few months have been rough on everyone.”

      “Yes.” Lucy glanced at her husband. “He’s just been so depressed. I was thinking of calling Becky to see if I needed to speak to the doctor about it.”

      “Mom, you don’t have to speak to Becky. Just call the doctor.” It irritated him that she depended on Becky for advice.

      His mother frowned at him. “What’s wrong with talking to Becky?”

      “Nothing.” He grabbed his hat and swung toward the door. “I gotta go. Dad wants me to ride Cochise.”

      “You be careful. That horse has a mean streak,” Lucy called after him.

      Not like some of the enemies he’d faced, he thought as he strolled toward the barn. Enemies who’d hated him and wanted him and his fellow soldiers dead. But his mom didn’t need to know that.

      Cochise resisted the bridle, prancing around. After calming the horse, Luke saddled up. Cochise flung up his head, standing on his hind legs. Luke was prepared and they shot out of the barn like a rocket. Luke let him run, enjoying the wind on his face and the speed beneath him.

      He slowed the horse to a trot as they neared the Parker place. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a four wheeler fly by. The all-terrain vehicle zoomed over hills and rocky ledges then suddenly flipped, throwing the rider into the winter weeds.

      Luke galloped toward the prone boy and swung from the saddle. Becky’s son lay completely still. Luke checked the pulse in his neck. There was a steady beat. Thank God.

      As Luke took a deep breath, the boy stirred. “Ooooh.”

      “Don’t move, kid,” Luke ordered. “Let me check and see if anything’s broken.” He moved his hands over the boy’s body. Nothing seemed broken. Holding Shane’s head, he helped him to sit up. “You okay?”

      “Oh, man.” Shane stared at the four wheeler on its side, smoke billowing from the motor. “Grandpa’s gonna beat me black and blue.”

      Luke frowned. “Does your grandfather hit you?”

      “What?” Shane shook his head, still in a daze. “Heck, no. It just…You’d have to know my grandpa to understand. When I’ve done something wrong, he has a look on his face that makes me wish he’d just hit me. But if anyone touched me, my grandpa would kill them.”

      Luke knew the feeling very well. Subconsciously he rubbed his jaw where he’d felt the full ire of Sheriff Parker.

      Shane stood, brushed dirt from his jeans and sweatshirt then walked over to the wrecked vehicle. “Ah, man. We just fixed it. I guess I’d better go and tell him.”

      Luke jerked the four wheeler into an upright position and observed the damages. The left front fender was smashed into a tire.

      “You just have to fix a fender,” Luke told him. “The tire looks okay.”

      “Yeah, and Grandpa will make me pay for it. At this rate I’ll never get a truck.”

      Luke adjusted his adult thinking hat. “You were going a little fast.”

      Those blue eyes drilled into him. “You’re not gonna lecture me about speed, are you?”

      “Would it help?”

      “No. You’re Luke Chisum. You tried to see if your Mustang would fly.”

      Luke winced. “You’ve heard that story?”

      “Sure. Everybody in River Bluff has.”

      “Well, take it from an expert—speed could get you killed.”

      Luke wondered what the kid would say if he told him his mother was the reason he’d attempted such a thing. After high school graduation, he and his buddies had had a poker party with a keg of beer. Luke had kept drinking to get Becky and Danny out of his mind. He’d lost big that night.

      His parents had given him a new Mustang for graduation. Afterward he was bragging to his buddies how fast it could go. He went a step further and told them he could make it fly. They called his bluff. After that there was no stopping him. When his friends realized he was stone drunk and serious, they tried to talk sense into him, to no avail.

      The Mustang sailed off a rocky crevice into the Medina River. The river broke his fall, and he had minor cuts and bruises. He spent three days in the hospital and Becky never came to see him. That hurt more than his battered body.

      When he was released, he knew he had to leave River Bluff or he was going to kill himself with stupidity. So he’d enlisted, and he often wondered why he felt a need to live life on the edge—in a danger zone.

      “I’d better go tell my mom and Grandpa.” Shane’s words brought him back to the present.

      “Come on, kid.” Luke grabbed Cochise’s reins. “I’ll give you

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