The warning went right over his head, for Clanton considered himself pretty fast. "So ya do know him.
He lookin' for you, by any chance?"
One look at the kid's grin of anticipation and Billy groaned again. "Don't even think about it."
"But he's comin' right to us."
Billy chanced a look up and found himself stabbed with those blue eyes so much brighter than his own. If he could crawl under the table, he would.
"Colt," he said miserably in greeting.
He didn't get so much as a nod in reply, and Colt was no longer looking at him, but watching Clanton coming up out of his chair. Before the kid had even straightened fully, Colt's gun was palmed and direct-ing him to sit back down, which he did with eyes now widened and a good deal of color gone from his young face.
Billy stood up slowly, very slowly, but relaxed some when Colt put his gun away. Colt still hadn't said a word, and Billy didn't think he would, not in here anyway. But later.
The color was rushing back into Clanton's face to show how angry he was at being bested so easily, but he didn't make a move to get up again. Still, he didn't keep quiet either, not when there had been witnesses, including Earp's bartender, Buckskin Frank Leslie. Not a word had been said, but the breed had gained notice when he walked in, notice that was still on him when he had silently forced young Clanton to back down.
"Ya don't have to go with him, Ewing, whatever ya done. Ya got backin' now. When I tell my broth-ers—"
"Forget it, kid," Billy said with a sigh, more relieved really than not, now that he realized Colt's appearance had gotten him out of his predicament. He even grinned at his short-time friend. "I do have to go with him."
"Like hell-"
"Oh, I've no doubt there will be hell to pay," Billy interrupted, his grin widening before he added, "He's my brother, you see."
Chapter Seven
Billy had had his fun. He wasn't grinning as he stepped out onto the boarded walkway in front of the Oriental, waiting for Colt to back out of the swinging doors and step quickly to the side before relaxing his gun hand. Now he felt kind of sick to his stomach. Colt Thunder here? He didn't even begin to hope it was a coincidence.
"Where's your horse?" Colt asked curtly.
Billy grimaced, noticing the big-boned Appaloosa down the street in front of yet another saloon. "I walked from Noble's Hotel, where I'm staying."
"Come on, then."
They were almost the same height, but Billy felt like he was tripping over his own legs trying to keep up with Colt as the taller man took off down the boardwalk. "I didn't think she'd send you after me, Colt, I swear I didn't."
"You thought she'd hunt you down herself?"
"Of course not! I knew she'd write Jessie, and I guess I figured she'd ask Chase to find me. She always depended on him for help."
"That was before he married Jessie. But he prob-ably would've been elected if he was home at the time, only he wasn't. And it wasn't your mother sent me, it was Jessie. She had the dumb idea I'd have no problem tracking you."
"I'm sorry," Billy said lamely.
"Wait until I decide whether or not to beat the shit out of you, kid, before you're sorry."
Billy flinched. He wished he had seen Colt's expression when he said that, but the man was still walking several paces ahead and hadn't looked back to speak. He had little doubt he was serious, though. Which way he decided on the matter would depend on just how angry he was. But come to think of it, seeing his expression wouldn't have told Billy the answer to that. You just couldn't tell with Colt, not with his ability to conceal his emotions when he chose to.
The past years had been one surprise after another for Billy. He had been raised in Chicago by his mother, Rachel, and his stepfather, though he didn't know Jonathon Ewing was only his stepfather. He didn't know he had a sister either, until Jessie's father died and Rachel went to Wyoming to be her guardian. He had been only nine at the time, and meeting someone like Jessie had been an impressionable ex-perience. Her father had raised her like a boy, and she was running the ranch he had left her as well as any man could. She wore britches, toted a gun, and knew everything there was to know about raising cat-tle. Billy had worshiped her and was delighted when he learned she wasn't just his half sister, but his true sister, that Thomas Blair was his father, too.
But Rachel returned to Chicago, taking Billy with her, and it wasn't until a couple of years later that Billy got to visit the Rocky Valley Ranch again. In fact, he was there the day Colt first showed up, though he was called White Thunder then.
Billy had heard of him, of course. The Cheyenne brave had been Jessie's closest friend for many years, though he had never been to her ranch before. But Billy didn't know who he was at first, and after hear-ing about all the trouble the Sioux and the Cheyenne were causing at that time, seeing an Indian ride in as bold as you please was frightening, to say the least, especially when he was so obviously not one of the tame variety.
Half naked, with hair that flowed midway down his back, no, there was nothing tame about White Thun-der — until you saw him with Jessie and heard him speak English. And not a clear and precise English, as you would suppose an Indian would be taught, but a Western drawl that was an exact copy of Jessie's own speech, which wasn't that surprising after all, since he had learned English from her.
Billy, at eleven, had been fascinated by Thunder just as much as he had been by Jessie. He hadn't gotten to stay to watch his transformation into a "white man," so he had barely recognized him when Colt came east with Jessie and Chase for Rachel's wedding to Chase's father, Carlos Silvela, less than a year later.
But there was still something about him that had kept Billy from being able to relax com-pletely in his company, even though he was open and approachable then. And Billy didn't think that would ever change, especially since Colt was no longer easy-going, and hadn't been since that trouble he had back in
'78 when he nearly died.
That was when Billy found out that Colt wasn't just Jessie's best friend, but her half brother, and Billy's too; that Thomas Blair had fathered them all. Unfor-tunately, it didn't make him feel he could get close to Colt, not the way Jessie was, anyway. Brother or not, Colt could scare him worse than ten Billy Clantons, without even trying.
As if Colt had read his mind, he asked, "Who was your hot-tempered little friend?" Billy answered without thinking and found himself pressed up against the wall of the saddle shop they were passing, Colt's fists locked in his shirtfront. "You leave your sense back East, kid? I heard enough about that bunch before I was even halfway through the territory, enough to know they're to be avoided."
"Well, I didn't," Billy said defensively. "At least not until it was too late." He was unable to meet Colt's piercing stare when he added, "I sort of hired on, thinking I'd be doing ranch work."
"You dumb sh-"
"For God's sake, Colt, I didn't know what I was getting into! I was running short of money."
"All you had to do was wire home."
"If I did that I would have to go home, and I doubt my mother is ready to see my side of things."
"Whether she is or isn't — shit, never mind." He let Billy down, glancing back at the Oriental, but no one else had exited the place since they had. He con-tinued on to collect his horse, tossing back over his shoulder, "Did you quit?"
"I tried, but you said yourself young Clanton's hot-tempered. He didn't exactly want to take no for an answer."