Chuck vs the Wildcat

by dettiot

It's the 1870s in the American Southwest. Charles "Chuck" Bartowski, after avenging the death of his sister, falls in with gunslinger John Casey. There's a range war in El Dorado, and Chuck finds himself on one side of the war. And on that side is a woman named Sarah Walker.

9. Chapter 9: As His Strength

Title: Chuck vs. the Wildcat 9/12

Author: dettiot

Rating: T

Summary: It's the 1870s in the American Southwest. Charles "Chuck" Bartowski, after avenging the death of his sister, has fallen in with gunslinger John Casey. There's a range war in El Dorado, and Chuck finds himself on one side of the war. And on that side is a woman named Sarah Walker.

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck or El Dorado. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: We've got a turning point in this chapter, one that will greatly affect Chuck and Sarah's relationship. Hope you enjoy!

XXX

Chapter Nine: As His Strength Failed Him At Length

XXX

Morgan shook his head as Chuck finished explaining what had happened between him and Sarah while Morgan was gone. "I dunno, Chuck. Never heard of Sarah bein' so stubborn. This is more than just usual Walker mule-headedness, I reckon."

Chuck kicked at a stone in the dust of the street. "It seemed strange to me, too. But why is she acting this way?"

"Maybe she's just too distracted right now," Morgan offered. "I mean, other than your date, you two haven't been able to forget about everything that's goin' on."

"Yeah, maybe," Chuck said. "I just hope it doesn't mean that once things with Shaw are taken care of, we can't get something going for real."

Morgan nodded. "Me, too, Chuck."

He smiled at his shorter friend as they kept walking towards the jail. They were finishing up a morning patrol, making the rounds through the town while the sheriff and Casey talked in private. They may have said that they were cleaning the firearms, but Chuck had seen the looks exchanged between Beckman and her right-hand man. There was definitely something brewing.

At least he'd gotten more sleep since Morgan and Casey had returned. No more surveillance on Shaw's ranch meant he'd slept the last two nights through with no interruptions. Now that he was sleeping in a bed, Morgan also looked healthier, too. In fact, Chuck thought his friend carried himself differently-there was a new confidence about him now.

"How was everything else around here?" Morgan asked. He rubbed a hand over his beard. "You didn't happen to hear anything from Alejandra, did you?"

Chuck grinned a little. "Worrying about her?"

Morgan stuck out his lower lip. "Of course I am-she's livin' in the middle of the snake pit! And she's been helpin' us and she's all alone . . . "

"I think you're worryin' because you like her," Chuck said, grinning wider.

"Okay, yes, you're right! I do like her-she's real pretty, ain't she, Chuck?"

He nodded. "She is. And she's brave."

"She sure is," Morgan said. "Bravest woman I've ever met, and she's so kind and gentle."

Chuck was opening his mouth to reply, but then they heard a quiet noise coming from the alley they had just walked past. They both turned their heads and saw the woman in question standing in the shadows.

"Alejandra!" Morgan said, stepping towards her.

There were dark circles under her eyes, and she was clutching a shawl around her shoulders. She tried to smile at Morgan, but Chuck thought she looked scared.

"Hola, Morgan. It-it is good to see you back," she said, her words slow and a bit halting. Chuck wondered why she was speaking in English, even though Morgan could speak fluent Spanish. Perhaps she was trying to fit in better with Morgan's friends. If that was the case, Chuck had to metaphorically tip his hat to her for making the attempt.

"Are you okay?" Morgan asked, taking her hand and holding it gently.

Alejandra's shoulders relaxed a small amount, and she gave Morgan a smile that seemed more natural. "Si, si. I am okay. I have news."

"Then let's get you to the sheriff." Morgan turned and looked at Chuck. "I'm gonna take Alejandra around the back way. You wanna go let the sheriff know we're comin'?"

"Sure, buddy," Chuck said. He nodded to Alejandra, then turned and used his long legs to bring him to the jail within a few moments. He called out through the partly-opened front door. "Hey in there-it's Chuck."

After announcing himself, he stepped into the jail and closed the door behind him. Beckman was sitting at her desk, the surface covered with a few disassembled firearms. To his surprise, Casey was actually in the back room, going over his guns at the table back there.

"Alejandra's got something to tell us," Chuck said, his eyes looking back and forth between the sheriff and Casey. "Morgan's bringing her around to the back door."

Beckman nodded. "Right." She got up from the desk and looked back at Casey. "You done bein' all male?"

Casey glared at her but didn't move from his seat, and Beckman rolled her eyes. "Guess not." Before Chuck could ask what was going on, there was a knock on the back door, and Beckman opened the door for Morgan and Alejandra.

Morgan's hand was now on Alejandra's lower back. Chuck was guessing that as soon as this mess with Shaw was over with, Morgan would be settling down with Alejandra.

"Alejandra, you a'right?" the sheriff asked, getting right to business.

She nodded a little, sitting down in the chair that Morgan drew out for her. "I am fine."

"So what's goin' on?"

The younger woman took a deep breath. "I try to tell you in the English. Señor Shaw, he is very angry now. Many men, they have come to fight for him."

Chuck took a breath as the realization sunk in. They were right: the Ring was making their move and they were using Shaw as a cover.

"How many?" Beckman asked.

"Ten men. They have many guns."

"Why's Shaw so mad?" Casey asked, pinning Alejandra with his gaze.

"The men, they no listen to him. They listen to Señor Bennett alone. These men, they are bad. Yesterday, they . . ."

Alejandra frowned, clearly searching for words, then turned to Morgan and spoke quickly in Spanish. Morgan listened, his face paling before he looked at the sheriff. "They scared two of the cattle boys by shooting at them. Usin' 'em as target practice, they said."

"And they watch us girls," Alejandra said, gripping her shawl again.

Beckman nodded. "You're all safe?"

"Si. It is very . . . very scary, but yes, safe."

Morgan's hand, resting on Alejandra's shoulder, squeezed it gently. Alejandra took a deep breath, looking more composed. Like she was drawing strength from Morgan.

"If you don't wanna go back, Alejandra, we'll find someplace for you here in town," Beckman said. "We wanna make sure you stay safe."

The girl shook her head. "My sister, she work for Señor Shaw. I go back."

"Right," the sheriff said. "You hear anything sayin' when Shaw and his gunhands are gonna attack?"

Alejandra looked puzzled, and Morgan translated what the sheriff had said. Alejandra shook her head again. "I know not. But it is soon."

Beckman looked at Casey, her eyes narrowed. Casey grunted and shrugged before wincing a little.

The sheriff turned back to Alejandra. "Much obliged, Alejandra."

She nodded and stood up. "I go back now." She smiled at them a little. "Gracias. All of you."

"De nada," Beckman said. "Morgan, you can drive Alejandra back to Shaw's in the buckboard, if she's willin'."

Alejandra gave Morgan a shy look and nodded, and Morgan grinned. "Yes, ma'am." He took Alejandra's elbow and led her out of the jail.

Beckman sat in the chair that Alejandra had been using. "Young love all 'round us, Casey."

"Damn fool thing at a time like this," Casey said grumpily.

Chuck felt his ears turn a bit red. Beckman grinned a little at Chuck before growing serious again.

"We're gonna wait for Morgan to get back and start plannin'," she said. "Need to know how we're gonna approach this fight."

"Yes, Sheriff," Chuck said. "What do you want me to do?"

"Make sure you're ready," she said, giving him a look.

XXX

Once Morgan returned from escorting Alejandra home, the four of them began talking strategy. Chuck didn't really contribute much, since he didn't have any experience with gunfights. But he listened hard, wanting to know their plan inside and out.

There were plenty of ideas being suggested, but they still hadn't settled on one plan before exhaustion drove them to bed. The next morning, they were all sleepy. It took two mugs of strong coffee before Chuck felt awake.

Casey was in a bad mood; Chuck saw him adding a dollop of whiskey to his coffee, which definitely wasn't normal behavior for Casey. It'd been a long time since he had spent much time with Casey, though. Perhaps it was nothing.

Once Chuck and Morgan were on patrol, though, Chuck found himself talking to his friend.

"Hey, buddy . . . did you notice how Casey was acting this morning?"

Morgan nodded. "Like a wounded bear."

"Yeah," Chuck said, frowning at how apt Morgan's metaphor felt. "I wonder what's going on."

"I think he's worryin' about Miss Gertrude," Morgan volunteered. "While we were gone, he wrote her a couple of letters."

"Really?"

"Sure did. Of course, we were movin' around so much, he'd never get an answer. But he seemed like he was doin' a lotta thinking about her."

"Huh," Chuck said. "Suppose that makes sense. Before you left, I was talking to Casey a little, and . . . I guess he gave me some relationship advice, based on his own experiences."

"Wow," Morgan said, looking surprised. "That's . . . that's not very Casey."

"I know. Between that, and how he's acting now, I'm worried something's wrong," Chuck said, tipping his hat as they walked past a group of ladies.

"I think you're worryin' for nothing, Chuck," Morgan said, following Chuck's lead in nodding to the ladies. "So Casey's a bit grumpier than normal. He's probably just wishin' he was still movin' around."

"Suppose you're right," Chuck said. "You do know him a lot better than I do."

Morgan nodded as they stepped into Granger's store. "Casey's been passin' through for a good ten years now. Miss Gertrude was the same up to 'bout two years ago, when she finally settled here."

Mr. Granger bustled over, drawing Morgan into a conversation about some fabric Morgan's mother had ordered. Chuck started wandering around the store, ending up at the shelf of books to see if anything new had come in.

He had just taken down a book he hadn't seen before, one about the flora and fauna of West Texas, when he felt a tug on his trousers. Looking down, Chuck saw a small Mexican girl with big brown eyes, her hair hanging around her shoulders.

"Hello, there," Chuck said, smiling at her. He crouched down a bit to minimize the vast height difference between them. "Can I help you?"

The girl smiled at him shyly, then held out a piece of paper to him. Chuck took it, and the girl immediately dashed out of the store.

"Huh," Chuck said, wondering about such a little girl being allowed to run around by herself. He looked at the piece of paper, which was much-creased and a little grimy. He opened it carefully and scanned the note, feeling his body tense when he saw Sarah's name signed at the bottom of the note. He read the short note slowly.

Chuck, I need to talk to you. We need to get this thing with us worked out, 'cause neither of us needs the distraction of things stayin' unsettled. And I'd like to see you. Meet me in the barn across from the jail tonight at eight.

Sarah

Chuck read over the note a second time, wishing there was a way to get a sense of how a person felt through a letter. Because the words on the page seemed no-nonsense, businesslike. But that wasn't Sarah; she was all emotion and impulse. While he thought, she reacted.

"I swear, she's spendin' me into the poorhouse," Morgan muttered as he walked up to Chuck. "You ready to go, Chuck?"

"Huh?" he asked, finally coming back to Earth. "What, Morgan?"

"What's that?" his friend asked, pointing at the note.

He swallowed, feeling nervous. "It's . . . it's a note from Sarah. She wants to see me tonight."

Morgan's eyes widened. "She does?"

Chuck nodded. "Yeah. Tonight, in the barn across from the jail."

"Are you gonna go?"

He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers catching on his curls. He idly thought that he could use another haircut.

"I . . . I think I am. Yeah," Chuck said slowly.

Morgan looked at him, then nodded. "Okay. I'll help cover for you."

"You don't have to do that, Morgan," Chuck protested.

"Hey, I'm your friend. And this way, you don't have to worry about anyone lookin' for you."

Chuck smiled. "Thanks, Morgan." He clapped the shorter man on the shoulder. "I'm lucky to have a friend like you."

Morgan grinned widely at Chuck. "You got that right."

He laughed and followed Morgan out of the store, grateful for his friend's help. Yet as they walked back to the jail, Chuck found his thoughts turning towards his meeting with Sarah. What would happen? What did she want from him? Would they put their differences behind them and get their relationship started, or was this the end for them?

XXX

Just before eight o'clock, Chuck walked out the back door of the jail, freshly shaved and wearing a clean shirt. Morgan had encouraged the sheriff to join Casey on patrol tonight, rather than staying behind as she normally did. With both of them out of the jail, Chuck could prepare for tonight and leave without attracting any notice.

Chuck rubbed his clammy hands against his trousers, trying to control his nerves. His thoughts all afternoon had been focused on seeing Sarah, on hearing what she had to say and figuring out whether they had a future.

He approached the barn, looking around as he opened the door and stepped inside. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimness, then walked further inside.

The straw scattered over the floor crunched softly under his boots, and there was a musty smell. It wasn't exactly a romantic setting, but it was the place where he had met Sarah, and that made this dilapidated barn special to him.

"Chuck."

He turned around quickly at the sound of Sarah's voice, which was coming from a dark corner. He watched as she stepped out of the shadows, walking towards him. He licked his lips before he spoke.

"Sarah."

"I'm glad you came," she said softly, coming to a stop in front of him.

Chuck swallowed. "Well, you asked me to come, and you're right, we should really try and get some things straightened out between us, with the fight with Shaw comin' any day now . . ." He let his voice trail off, grateful that he hadn't fallen into a full-blown babble.

Sarah nodded. "Yeah . . ." She looked at him, her gaze penetrating, then took a deep breath. "You gotta tell me why you were watchin' Shaw's place."

"Why?" His question came out a bit choked, so he cleared his throat and repeated himself. "Why do I have to tell you that?"

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. "'Cause I want to know what you were doin' out there. Why you were guarding Shaw, of all people. Why didn't the sheriff send you to watch our place, to make sure we were okay? We're the ones who are in the right here."

"Are you sure about that?" Chuck couldn't help remembering his conversation with Casey, about how Jack Walker was a con man who'd tricked a few greenhorns out of their land.

The anger rose in Sarah's face and she glared at him. "Course I'm sure! Are you tryin' to accuse us of something?"

"All I'm saying is, I've heard stories about your father," Chuck said. "Stories that I'm inclined to believe, given who was doing the telling and from what Mr. Walker has said to me."

He didn't like bringing up the conversation with her father, but it was important. That talk had added to Chuck's impression that Mr. Walker wasn't much better than Shaw. Plus, he knew that they were getting sidetracked by her family issues. It kept them away from the heart of the matter: how they were two people that were standing at opposite ends of a spectrum, and if they had any chance of a future together, they both had to come closer to the middle.

"My pop's done nothin' but keep his family together against all odds!"

"He's cheated newcomers out of their lands and conned people!" Chuck pointed out. "And we both know how he feels about you, about how he's doing everything he can to keep you under his thumb."

Sarah snorted. "Like there's any man who can do that to me! Or perhaps it's just wishful thinking, huh, Chuck?"

Anger wasn't an emotion he felt often. But he was feeling it now, at Sarah's stubbornness and refusal to see his point of view.

"We both know that's not true," he said quietly, looking at her. "I don't want you to be anyone but who you are."

"Unless it goes against what you think is right," she said, her eyes snapping.

"What does that mean?" Chuck asked, stepping towards her with his hands on his hips.

"For someone who's supposed to be so smart, you're damn thick!" she raged. "What about your whole impassioned 'Oh, Sarah, don't attack Shaw's land!' bit? Beggin' me to listen to you, to do what you said!"

Her mocking words lit a match to his temper. He was normally a calm man, someone who didn't get angry with anyone. But Sarah Walker was so frustrating, so pig-headed when she thought she was right, she couldn't see the possibility that she might be wrong. His whole life, he'd spent with calm, sensible people. No one was like this firebrand with her messy hair and eyes that went from calm pools to stormy skies at the drop of a hat.

"That's not how it was at all!" Chuck said, his voice getting louder. "You know that! I was worried about you, because you were acting like an idiot!"

Sarah sputtered for a moment, then advanced on him, getting in his face. "An idiot? For protecting my family, for not wanting to give in to some man who thinks he rules the world?" Her eyes ran over him. "So this is how it is-you're no different from any other man! You expect women to just roll over and say 'yes, sir' and 'no, sir' and 'whatever you say, sir'!"

"Oh my God," Chuck said, so dumbstruck that he committed a blasphemy by taking the Lord's name in vain. Not that he really cared about being blasphemous at this moment. He took a step away, turning his back on her and breathing deeply. How could she be so misguided about him? Thinking that he wanted her to be like other women, demure and quiet and without an opinion on anything more than dresses and hats?

Sarah Walker was the smartest, savviest, strongest woman he'd ever met, and he thought any man that wanted her to change that was the biggest fool who ever lived. She was utterly unique, and he couldn't imagine her any other way. Even if she was frustrating and hot-headed and so stubborn that they might never see eye to eye on anything.

Suddenly, Miss Gertrude's words popped into his head. "Charles, if I were you, I'd talk to Sarah. Be blunt with her-don't pussyfoot around things. Bring everything out into the open."

Maybe that was it. Maybe it was time to just stop dancing around and get to the honest truth.

Taking another deep breath, he turned to face her. Her face was flushed and her hair looked like she had been running her hands through it in frustration. Her shirt was old and had a ripped sleeve, her trousers fit her like a second skin, and she was a much better shot than he was.

And he knew that he would never want another woman like he wanted her.

"I think you know that's not what I want," Chuck said, keeping his voice low and even. "But if you really don't know that . . . it's time for me to put my cards on the table."

"What are you talking about, Chuck?" she said, an edge of anger still in her voice. But it seemed to him that she had calmed down enough to actually listen to him.

He swallowed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and find a place to start. "Sarah, I'm on your side. It's not because the sheriff has decided that Shaw is in the wrong or because he's acted worse than your family. And it's not because I want to change you." He searched her eyes, trying to gauge what she was feeling and thinking. He took a step towards her.

"Sarah, I'm on your side because I-I have feelings for you. I admire you, I respect you, I like you. I . . . I think we could really be something together."

She blinked, looking confused. "Together?" Her voice sounded hesitant and unsure, like what he was saying was what she hoped for, but she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

Chuck slowly reached out and cupped her face in his hands. He could feel the tension in her body as she held herself in check, and her eyes were large and very blue. He sensed the feelings swirling in their depths: frustration, uncertainty, hope. He let himself get lost in her eyes before he spoke softly, trying to push aside his nerves at exposing himself like this.

"I'm pretty close to falling in love with you, Sarah Walker."

Her eyes widened. "You . . . you've been doing all this because you . . . ?"

He nodded slowly, giving in to the temptation and lightly stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. He saw a spark of some unrecognizable emotion in Sarah's eyes, and then she was pulling him in close and kissing him.

It was all he could do not to moan at the feel of her lips. Unlike their first and until now only kiss, this one wasn't polite and sweet and gentle. Sarah pressed her mouth firmly against his, her hands gripping his shoulders. She kissed him hungrily, like she was trying to devour him. And Chuck found himself returning her passion.

He slid his hands into her hair, holding her close as his lips moved to kiss along her jaw. Her skin was so soft, with a spicy sweet taste that he could see himself becoming addicted. Suddenly the word "devour" took on new meaning. He'd never felt like this before, but he wanted more of her. And he wanted to take his time.

Sarah seemed on the same page: her hands started to run over his back gently, and she pressed soft kisses over his cheek and chin until he brought his mouth back to hers. This kiss was softer and slower. He felt like he was falling into her.

She was too far away. He moved one of his hands from her hair and slid it down her back to rest on her hip. He took a step towards her as he pulled on her hip. To his delight, Sarah moved in against him at his signal, her body coming closer until they were touching.

Now he had to moan, moving his mouth away and letting his face rest against the side of hers. To have those curves he hadn't been able to ignore since they met, pressing against him-it was a feeling so blissful that he wondered if this was wrong. If they should step back.

"Chuck," Sarah said, her voice low and throaty. Something about her voice sent a lightning bolt through him, and unconsciously he tightened his arms around her.

This was what he wanted. He wanted to have Sarah this close to him all the time, wanted to have her in his arms, warm and soft and best of all, trusting. Trusting him to always have her back, to be the person who would give her unconditional support.

He kissed her cheek softly. "Sarah?"

"Hmmmm?" she murmured, rubbing her nose lightly against his cheek.

"As-as nice as this is," Chuck said, feeling his thoughts move at a crawl from kissing and touching her, "maybe we should slow down, talk a bit more . . ."

She sighed softly. "Uh-huh . . . but in a minute. One more kiss."

"Sarah, I don't know-" He was going to say that he wasn't sure he could stop after one, but her mouth cut off his words.

Slowly, softly, her lips pressed against his. This kiss was searching, like she was trying to find something inside him. He closed his eyes and let her set the pace as he soaked up the feel of kissing her. Chuck was pretty sure he wouldn't ever get tired of kissing her.

After a few moments, Sarah pulled away, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright. Chuck knew he was breathing hard, like he'd just run a mile at noon on the hottest day of the year. She smiled up at him.

"Okay, now we can talk."

"Yeah," Chuck said, sucking in some air. "Yeah. Talking."

She took a few steps back, a small, impish smile on her face. "Easier to talk when I'm over here?"

He nodded, trying to get his mind back in action. "Thank you. I . . . I suppose this means you're also interested in-in having a relationship with me?"

Sarah nodded. "I am." Her smile faded, and her voice got quiet. "But I dunno if this is gonna work, Chuck."

"What? What do you mean?" Chuck felt a chill pass over him at the thought of getting what he wanted, only for it to vanish this quickly. He stepped towards her, closing some of the distance between them.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I do care about you, but . . . but I dunno if it's enough."

"Is this about your family?" he asked quietly, reaching out to take her hand.

"Kinda," she said softly, looking a bit sad. "I've spent most of my life working on the ranch. I've bred horses, delivered calves, pulled weeds, fought fires. All the success we've had, I knew that a big chunk of it was 'cause of me. But if I leave . . . I won't have anything."

"That's not true, Sarah," he said, squeezing her hand as he leaned in towards her. "You have so much experience and strength, you'd be able to create a success out of anything."

"It's just not fair," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I deserve more."

"You do, Sarah. You really do, and if I could convince your dad to change his mind, I'd do anything."

He gazed down at her, hoping she could hear the sincerity in his voice. He meant what he said: he wished he could lean on Jack Walker, make him realize how extraordinary Sarah was and how worthy she was of his support.

Sarah gave him a small, soft smile. "Thanks, Chuck."

"Are you sure you don't want to try, Sarah?" he asked, holding her hand tightly. "If we were together, we could have the whole world. We'd find a way."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I . . . I'm not ready to take that chance. Usedta be, I'd leap and not worry about what might go wrong. But this time, it's just-I can't just jump and hope." Sarah's eyes were as close to pleading as he'd ever seen. "I need more time before changin' my whole life like that."

Chuck swallowed. As disappointing as her words were, he knew that he couldn't show that disappointment. He didn't want to pressure her or rush her. This was a big decision for her. Even if she wanted to see the world and travel to new places, taking a chance on him, even if they stayed in El Dorado . . . it must be scary for her to consider leaving her family behind and the only home she had ever known.

"I . . . I understand, Sarah," he said, doing his best to smile encouragingly at her. "Of course you need time."

"I'm sorry. Not just for needin' time, but for what I said earlier, 'cause I know you're not that kinda man. You . . . you're the best man I've ever met, Chuck Bartowski." Sarah looked up at him, her eyes shining with heartfelt emotion.

Looking into her eyes, he felt breathless. Somehow, she'd fallen for him, and it was the best feeling in the world. He was going to do whatever it took to keep feeling this way.

He kissed her forehead softly. "I can wait. Take all the time you need. I just hope I can kiss you every now and then."

"I don't think you're gonna get away without me kissin' you whenever we see each other," Sarah said, laughing softly. She leaned up and kissed him softly, then pulled back. "I'm gonna go. See you soon, Chuck."

"See you soon, Sarah," he said, giving her a small smile.

She smiled back before slipping out of the barn. He spent a few moments worrying a little about Sarah riding home in the dark, but mostly savoring the memory of kissing her. Then he stepped out of the barn and started walking through the streets of El Dorado, doing a quick patrol as he had promised Morgan he'd do.

XXX

When he walked back into the jail, the place was in a uproar. The sheriff was barking orders to Morgan, who was running around looking frantic. Meanwhile, Casey sat in a chair, looking grim as he rubbed his right arm with his left hand.

"What-what's going on?" Chuck asked, interrupting the sheriff's ranting.

"Bartowski, where the hell have you been?" Beckman snapped. "We've got problems."

"I can tell," he said, looking at the shorter woman. "But whatever it is, we can figure it out."

Chuck was full of optimism after working things out with Sarah. He found himself thinking that no matter how bad things were, it would all work out. After all, Sarah liked him. This turn of events was so unlikely that he'd never have predicted it after they had first met. That meant that anything was possible.

The sheriff glared at him. "You were off with the Wildcat, weren't you?" She looked at Morgan. "I knew you were lyin' to me."

"Sheriff, Sheriff, I was just helpin' Chuck out-"

"Stop makin' excuses!"

Beckman's bellow made both Morgan and Chuck jump.

"Diane, ease up on 'em," Casey said, his voice strained. "You actin' like a madwoman isn't helpin' anything."

The sheriff looked at Casey, her ire draining away and leaving her with a pinched face and worried eyes. "Yeah, well, sometimes you gotta scream in order to calm down."

Casey let out a gruff laugh. "I think you should be plenty calm by now."

Beckman gave him a tight smile, then turned to face Chuck. "To answer your question, Bartowski . . . Casey's gun hand is outta commission."

"What?" Chuck asked, feeling like the bottom had fallen out of his stomach.

"Was out with Diane, and I got one of those shootin' pains," Casey explained. "That was an hour ago. And my hand's still not workin'."

"It's never taken that long to come back before, right?" Morgan said quietly, sounding scared.

Casey nodded. "Yeah."

"What . . . what does that mean?" Chuck could hear the fear in his own voice, just like he could hear it in Morgan's.

"When I got shot, the doc said I needed to see someone better 'n him to get the bullet out," Casey said, his words labored.

"Yeah, I remember when Doctor Wood said that, after he sewed up the sheriff's leg," Chuck said.

"Yeah, well, he said I shouldn't put it off too long, or else someday one of these attacks might . . ." Casey stopped and chose his words carefully. "It might not wear off."

As Casey's words sunk in, Chuck felt real worry for his friend. He couldn't imagine what Casey was feeling at this moment, but it had to be overwhelming and scary. His whole life would change if he didn't recover.

It seemed like today was all about people he knew facing big decisions, big changes. He didn't want to let those people down. He'd managed to find the right thing to say and do with Sarah. He wanted that for Casey, too.

Of course, Casey would probably brush him off, but he had to try.

He swallowed and looked over at Morgan. "Morgan, you think you could go get Doc Wood? See if he could come check on Casey?"

Morgan nodded quickly. "You got it, Chuck." Within a moment, he had left the jail to fetch the doctor.

Chuck checked the coffeepot, finding it empty. He went to work and soon had a fresh pot brewed. "Sheriff, here you go," he said, pouring her a mug of coffee. "You need a moment."

Beckman raised an eyebrow. "You tryin' to handle me, Chuck?" She took the mug of coffee and sat down at her desk.

"No, ma'am, just trying to help you relax a little. Because this is a bad time, but we can't take it out on each other." He was perhaps overstepping his bounds, but he knew he was speaking the truth. If they were at each other's throats, they'd be playing right into Shaw's hands.

The sheriff sighed and took a long swallow from her mug. "Suppose you're right. We gotta make plans if Casey's not gonna be able to help us."

"I'll find a way, Diane," Casey said. "May be down, but I ain't out yet."

Chuck couldn't help grinning a little. If he had to sum up Casey in one sentence, that would be his choice: down but never out.

The sheriff smiled as well. "I know, Casey."

A silence fell over them, punctuated only by the soft sounds of coffee being sipped and people shifting in chairs. While they waited for Morgan to return with the doctor, Chuck thought over this night.

It wasn't just the people around him that were facing changes, he realized. He himself also had a choice to make. They were facing the fight with Shaw, one that might not end well. He had so much to live for: his new friends, a good job, a relationship with Sarah. Would he risk his new life in El Dorado if it meant beating Shaw? Could he risk his life to save others?

When he first started on his journey after Ellie's killers, he'd had the burning need to get revenge to sustain him. Over the years, the fire had died down but stayed lit. Once he had finished his quest, he'd started to take stock of his life. He'd realized that while he wouldn't have changed what he did, he didn't want to be put in that position again. He didn't want to be a man who just looked out for number one, who put himself first. Instead of being selfish, he wanted to put other people first.

He didn't think he had necessarily spent his whole life being selfish. But he'd been naïve and very young. Convinced that there was certain ways to do things, and that any other way wasn't right. But in his travels, he'd realized that there was more to life than right and wrong. He wanted to honor Ellie's memory, the lessons he'd learned from his parents, and everything his friends, both old and new, had shown him. He wanted to see if he had learned enough to be a real man.

That was what he wanted. It seemed that he'd soon have an opportunity to see just how willing he was to live up to that new ideal.

End, Chapter 9