William MacDonald - Shoot Him On Sight

We did stop eventually, beneath the shade of a clump of mesquite trees, the feathery foliage undulating in the soft wind.

Once dismounted, Topaz took charge of the lunch basket and spread things on a cloth Mama Benita had provided. Within a few minutes we were working at sandwiches and taking alternate sips from the wine bottle. Wise Mama Benita: she hadn't provided any glasses.

"This," Topaz laughed delightedly, "is fun—such fun as I've not had since I was a kid. Where'd all this food come from? Nobody in Onyxton—"

"From the Box-CT." I told her about Mama Benita and Mateo and Jeff and Mike. Once started I really ran off at the head. She seemed to catch some of my enthusiasm and I told her a lot more about myself.

Finally, her eyes wide, she exclaimed, "Then you're not —not what all those reward bills call you, not a killer and gun-fighter?"

I almost rolled on the ground, laughing, at her surprise. "My career has been a trifle exaggerated," I grinned.

She didn't laugh as much as I'd expected. Her face sobered. "Johnny, if Shel Webster ever learns—golly!—he's already suspicious of you—"

"Webster can go fall off a mountain," I told her. "I've bluffed him so far and—"

"He's already furious with you—"

"Topaz, what's Webster to you?"

Startled, she cast a swift look at me. "Would I be here, if he meant anything to me, Johnny?"

"I guess not," I said, abashed. "I shouldn't have said that."

She shrugged. "Everybody else says it, even if they don't put it into words. Many—all too many—feel they know, and don't feel it necessary to ask—"

"Why, then—?"

Topaz started to speak, then checked the words. After a moment: "Johnny, please don't question me. We've been having such a pleasant time and—and—well, I don't want things spoiled. Let's not talk about my relationship with Shel Webster. At best, it is an unpleasant subject—"

"But Topaz—"

Slowly she shook her head. "Johnny, please don't persist. It is all something I don't want to talk about. Someday, I hope to forget all that's happened between Shel Webster— and me. Lately, it has been horrible—"

"Topaz, it's all unnecessary—"

"Please, Johnny," she pleaded. "I just can't talk about it. If you insist on questioning me, I'll just have to ask you to take me back. Please, get it through your head, I can't— I won't—answer any questions."

Well, I couldn't buck that attitude. Anger welled hotly within me, then I subsided. We talked of other things, but everything was different now. Our conversation seemed confined to monosyllables, and I was hurting a lot. She was, too, I gathered. She said finally, "Johnny, can't we forget the past and just look at things from today onward? It'll be more pleasant for both of us."

I reckon she had more sense than I did. Then I got an idea. "Look here," I suggested, "why don't we ride out to the Box-CT. I'd like to show you my—our—spread."

" Our spread?"

"Jeff's and mine." I added boldly, "And yours, if you'd see things my way."

"Why, Johnny," she laughed, "that sounded like a proposal."

"It was meant to be," I said earnestly, "if you'd see it that way. But how about riding out there with me?"

I expected her to refuse. She considered a moment. "And how will I be accepted out there?"

"As my friend, at least," I told her.

She got to her feet. "Come on, the day is passing. I mustn't be too late getting back. Should Shel Webster ever discover—fiddlesticks! Come on, let's go."

We arrived at the ranch about an hour and a half later, and though Jeff was a bit stand-offish at first, he came around in time. Mateo, Mama Benita and Mike warmed to Topaz at once. Before we knew it, the sun had commenced to drop and Mama Benita insisted Topaz be our guest for dinner. Diplomatically, no one mentioned Onyxton or Shel Webster.

Eventually, Topaz reminded me she had to get back to town. The horses were saddled and we started back, with the others reminding Topaz she should come visiting again.

Mostly, we rode in silence through the canyon, then cut over toward Onyxton. We swung wide of the town and entered by a roundabout route, finally dismounting before her gate. Neither of us said much. From the vicinity of Main Street came the usual boisterous noises. Along Topaz' street all was dark and silent. I accompanied her to the door, took her key and opened it. Within the doorway she hesitated a moment. "Johnny, it's been a lovely day."

"For me, too. When can we do it again?"

"I don't know, Johnny. It's too risky to—" She swayed toward me, and my arms whipped around her, holding her close. After a moment she pushed me away. She wouldn't let me come in. I kissed her again, heard the door shut behind me and went out to the horses. I left Onyxton, riding, not on my buckskin, but on a wild delicious trail of pure rainbow fantasy, my head high in the clouds of illusion and love.

XVIII

The following morning, after breakfast had completed the morning preliminaries, I announced I was heading for Onyxton. Lord knows what I had in mind. I was crazy to see Topaz some more, knowing that she'd object, but I reckon I wasn't thinking straight. If I couldn't see her, then, at least, I figured I could talk to Shel Webster and needle him some more. Common sense should have warned me away from that angle, but, as I say, I was beyond thinking straight anymore. Mateo didn't say anything, but Jeff and Mike raised a vigorous protest.

"Damn it," Jeff snapped, "you can push your luck just so far. For cripes' sake, Johnny, use your head, will you?"

"I've lost my head, long ago," I grinned carelessly.

"That's plain to see," Jeff said disgustedly. "Damn it, Johnny, I'm talking for your own good."

"Maybe I know, better than you, what I consider my own good," I laughed.

Mike put in, "Señor Jeff, you are talking against the wind. I understand this loco Johnny better than you. With his mind set on a situation, it is useless to sway him. He is stubborn, determined, hot-headed. You may as well save your breath. All right, to Onyxton we will make the journey, Johnny."

I shook my head. "Not 'we', Mike. I'm riding alone. I won't be running near the risk you would. Hell's-bells! There's all too many hombres just waiting a chance to plug a Mexican in Onyxton. Shel Webster says he has ordered his guns to lay off me—so he says. Anyway, I feel safe, so long as I can out-bluff him, keep him off balance. With you it's different—"

"I'd be safe enough, if I kept close to you," Mike persisted.

"With what I've got in mind," I said, and I could feel my face reddening, "maybe I don't want you close to me."

Jeff swore and Mike looked hurt. That made me feel bad too. No one spoke for a minute. Finally I forced a laugh, rose and saying, " Adiós, mi companeros ," I left and headed out to the corral, where I saddled up my buckskin, climbed on deck and headed toward the canyon through Buzzard Buttes. I didn't feel too good about leaving things as I had, but what else could I do? I rode slowly through the canyon, pondering that question.

The sky overhead was fleckless blue. There was a faint breeze blowing. I was wishing now I'd brought another basket of lunch, wishing I'd brought an extra pony for Topaz, though I'd felt certain we couldn't pull the same stunt two days in a row. That sort of thing was too risky for Topaz, and if Webster ever learned about that—well, I didn't like to think what he'd do. I pushed on. By now the canyon was widening out. A moment more and I'd be in open country again.

About the time I was emerging from the canyon to grassy terrain I spied two riders approaching from Onyxton. I checked the buckskin fast and drew him back behind a gigantic boulder until I could identify the riders. Within five minutes they were close enough for me to recognize them and my heart took a sudden slump.