Chad rode Buck at a quick lope, each step jarring his aching head miserably. However, he felt it in his gut that Joe needed him, so he goaded the horse to go faster. He could hear the ranger close behind him; for an older looking man, he could keep up as well as anyone younger. The ranger brought his small bay up so he was riding alongside Chad, keeping pace for a few strides before speaking. "You know where you're goin'?"

"I thought we went over this…."

"No, that's not what I mean," the ranger said, shouting to be heard over the horses' pounding hooves. "Them shots are comin' from a blind canyon up ahead. I reckon Joe didn't know where he was goin' neither. If that is Joe up ahead, he's prob'ly trapped by some of those varmints," squinting eyes shot a quick glare in Chad's direction, "you was ridin' with."

"First we stop whatever's goin' on up ahead, then I'll reckon with whatever comes after that," Chad said, his foggy mind having difficulty focusing on the task at hand, let alone what might be happening in the canyon or what might happen afterward. If he wasn't killed Chad knew the likelihood of going to prison or getting hung were pretty certain, and Chad knew a lot about chances. It was part of who he was, knowing when the stakes were high.

The two men reached the badlands quickly, bare stone leaving little room for error or a misstep. Reluctantly they slowed down, allowing their horses to carefully weave through boulders and crevices. The shooting was more sporadic now but, thankfully, still continuing. Silence would have meant the fight was over and that they were too late to do any good.

Chad allowed the ranger to lead, for the older man had knowledge of the area. Bare rock made it hard to track where the men ahead might be, and with the echo quality the land had, it was impossible to trail by sound alone. They followed the easiest trail, one a man would take if in a hurry. Here and there were signs that someone had been along there recently: a scrape from a shod hoof, a bullet casing. These signs confirmed that the trail they were following was the right one.

Suddenly, a gunshot sounded very close, as well as a shout. Chad and the ranger stopped, listening. Chad put a finger to his lips and dismounted. He walked over to the ranger. "Let's leave our horses here. Bring your rifle."

As carefully as they could, they crept forward, both watching for loose rocks or anything else that could alert anyone to their presence. The canyon loomed ahead. Chad looked over at the ranger who nodded in affirmation. This was the box canyon. They walked for a while, the sounds from ahead growing louder. Eventually, they could hear men talking angrily. Chad recognized one of the voices. "Slater," he growled.

The ranger was checking his rounds in his pistol. "You know who's up there?"

"Yeah, he was the boss of my outfit." Chad had an idea. "Listen, how about you sneak up on that ridge and see if you can get the drop on them with your rifle."

The ranger nodded, his eyes already planning his route. "Wait," he said, turning back. "What are you gonna be doin'?"

Chad grinned, feeling his confidence return. "What I do best, friend. Bluff." He left the ranger behind and strode as confidently as he could with a cracked head down the canyon floor. He pushed the bandanna up, trying to get it completely out of his eyes. It kept slipping down, so he yanked it off and stuffed it into a back pocket. Gingerly he put his hat on, wincing as it made contact with the abrasion on the back of his skull. He needed all the help he could get, and blocking the sun from his eyes would definitely be beneficial.

He came to where a large boulder blocked the path. The men ahead had evidently abandoned their horses, for there stood a small group of saddled animals, his own among them. The black whickered at him in greeting, and Chad rushed to put his hand over the horse's nose. Glancing around, he was relieved to see that Jess' sturdy bay was not present.

Men's voices carried well in the canyon walls. "The horses are restless, Slater. Want me to go check on them?"

"Sure. That ranger ain't goin' nowhere. We got him treed."

Chad stepped out in the open, trying to look innocent. A man he barely knew clambered over the boulder, stopping in shock when he noticed Chad. "Cooper, what are you doin' here?"

"Howdy, Mike. Heard the shootin'. Got that ranger cornered up here, huh?"

"Yeah," Mike said suspiciously. "What about it?"

"He stole my horse, remember? I was just trying to get it back. Don't figure he'll be needing it where he's going, huh?"

Mike laughed, a sinister sound that grated on Chad's frayed nerves. "Slater will be glad to see you. We can use gun of yours."

"What for?"

"Follow me."

Chad went over the boulder, feeling a bit of nervousness creep into his body. He'd made it this far, but his charm wouldn't work well on Slater. The man was waiting for Mike's report, along with one other man Chad recognized to be a man named Nolan. Both were hunkered down behind a large rock, gouges cut in the stone where bullets had missed them. From the look of it, Joe was giving them a hard time.

"Cooper? What in Tarnation are you doin' here? I thought you were all stove in?" Slater looked flushed and sweaty, like he'd been working hard….working hard to dodge Joe's bullets.

Chad tried to look relaxed as he answered. "Well, I was, Slater. But when the Rangers rode into the valley, they went right past me like I wasn't even there. Found a horse wandering loose. Heard you fellas having too much fun without me, so I decided to catch up with you."

Slater nodded, seeming to believe the story. "Harper apparently didn't enjoy our little party. He cleared out a while ago."

"Why are you guys still here, Slater? The Rangers will be coming through here soon with all the noise you've been making. They won't like you gunning for one of their men. You leave now, nobody will be able to identify you. You'll be in the clear."

"Why do you care so much, Cooper?"

"I don't."

Slater crossed his arms, a sneer on his face. "Really? It seems pretty strange to me how you got taken down by that Ranger. What were you doin' ridin' so close to that big fella instead of just pluggin' him, Cooper? You weren't tryin' to pick him up or somethin', were you?"

Chad felt his stomach twist, and it wasn't from his head injury. "Slater, why would I do a thing like that? It's on account of that ranger that we're in this mess now."

Just then Mike climbed over the boulder. Chad hadn't even noticed the skinny man had left; he had been too wrapped up in talking to Slater. "Leon," Mike said, his voice sounding too flat, like he was trying to hide something.

"What, Mike?"

Mike eased around in the narrow canyon until he was at Slater's side, his voice low and serious and he spoke. "There are two horses at the mouth of the canyon. He ain't alone."

Slater's eyes turned deadly. He levered himself off the rock, ducking out of sight of anyone further down the canyon by hanging close to one wall. "How about that, Cooper? Find two horses, did you? Didn't anybody tell you it sure is hard to ride two at the same time?"

"Well, shucks, Slater, you don't know how fun it is until you try it."

Mike sniffed the air dramatically. "I smell Rangers, Leon."

Chad laughed. "Do they have a specific scent? If they did, you'd overpower it with your own…fragrance, Mike."

Mike growled, taking a small step forward when Slater put a hand out, stopping him midstride. "Easy there, Mike. There's an easier way to settle this."

"Yeah? And how's that?"

"Yeah, how is that, Slater?" Chad asked.

"Just hop up there on that rock, Cooper. If the Ranger takes a shot at you, we'll know you're on the level. If he don't…," Slater trailed off, licking his lips like he could taste Chad's death.

Chad shook his head in tight movements. "No thanks, Slater. I'd rather stay down here." He was ready.

"Suit yourself, Cooper. Can't say I don't wish it was Harper that was here, instead of you. He'd been askin' for it a long time, but you," he smirked again, his eyes glowing maniacally, "you've been a real good boy up until now. What's changed, Cooper? Gettin' soft, are you? Or just yellow?"

The insults rolled off Chad like water on a duck. "Now you're hurting my feelings, Slater."

"That ain't all I'm gonna hurt." Even before he made the first move, Chad knew what was coming. He could read it in the man's eyes. When Slater's hand flashed downward, Chad was already reaching. In what seemed like slow motion, slugs burst forth from both men's guns, hurtling through the space between them.

Earlier, Chad had been nervous while waiting with Jess for the shooting to start. However, it was not his lack of experience with a gun that made him so afraid, but rather that particular type of fighting. He was not a person to wait in ambush. No, Chad J. Cooper was a gentleman from New Orleans, home of some of the most infamous duels in the South. He was accustomed to facing a man eye to eye, speed and accuracy his top friends, not lucky shots at men on horseback.

However, one of his top friends seemed to have betrayed him. His speed was almost up to where it normally was, but Chad's accuracy was hindered by his head injury. Therefore, he did something unconventional for a Southern gentleman: he ducked. More specifically, he dropped and rolled, firing in Slater's direction as he went down.

Smoke filled the narrow canyon, making it difficult to see, but Slater's green shirt was visible through the haze. Instinctively, Chad continued to fire, fanning the hammer with his hand.

The sounds of gunfire echoed long after the actual discharging of weapons ceased. Chad blinked, trying to see through the smoke and dust. The air cleared to reveal Slater's body lying crumpled against one of the canyon walls, his face blank in death. Immediately, Chad felt the powerful sense of loss he always experienced after a fight; after all, he wasn't a monster. He had a soul like any other man, and Chad was a particularly emotional man. However, now was not the time to grieve, for Chad only had one bullet remaining and two potential enemies lurking nearby.

"Ought not to have done that, Cooper," Nolan said slowly. He rose from where he had been kneeling on the sandy floor, his gun already drawn.

"Yeah," said Mike. "Slater was a pard of ours'. Apparently you ain't."

Chad moved carefully to sit up on his knees, holding his pistol loosely and unthreateningly. He cursed himself for not being more careful to ration his ammunition. He briefly considered Slater's gun, but the man's body was so far away. "Now, boys, let's not do anything rash—"

Nolan brought his gun up just as Mike pulled his from its holster. Knowing he could only get one, Chad said a quick goodbye to life before shooting his final cartridge at Mike. The moment the bullet left the barrel, Chad threw himself toward Slater's gun.

Once again the deafening sound of gunfire filled the small space, and with every passing moment, Chad expected to feel a slug tear into his body…and then feel nothing at all. He scrambled away on his belly from the two men, making a difficult target while trying to find Slater's gun.

Finally, when his hand found metal, he was truly baffled by the fact that he was not dead yet. He whipped over on his back, Slater's gun ready but was shocked by what he saw. Mike's body was sprawled facedown in the sand, unmoving. Nolan was still on his feet, swaying like a tree in the wind, his mouth open in breathless surprise. "How…," he wheezed before his eyes rolled up in his head and he too fell prostrate to the ground.

Chad was wondering the same thing himself until on the ground before him he noticed a shadow. Peering upward he saw that directly above him stood a dusty figure waving a carbine over his head. The ranger! Chad got to his feet and watched the man make a clumsy descent down the rough rock until he landed awkwardly on the sand.

"You sure don't waste time tryin' to get shot, boy," the ranger panted, making his growling voice difficult to understand.

"I never rush into anything. You just don't climb fast enough," Chad teased lightly, though he was feeling huge amounts of gratefulness for the other man's presence.

"Are you complainin' about the fact that I just handed you your life back on a platter?"

"No, not at all. Your skill with a rifle is to be admired."

"As is yours with a six-gun, boy. You plugged that one dead center, I reckon," the ranger said while pointing at Nolan's body.

"But I didn't get a shot off at him. I thought you did." Confused, they both walked over to the man's body. The ranger turned him over with his tan boot. Protruding from the man's chest was an antler-handled knife, its steel blade piercing right into the heart.

Chad recognized the knife instantly. Wheeling around frantically, he searched for his old friend. Seeing no sign, he called out, "Joe? Are you here, Joe?"

The ranger took up the call as well, his bass voice carrying like a dynamite explosion. "JOE! JOE, BOY, WHERE ARE YOU?" Chad, his ears ringing, glared at the ranger, but admitted to himself that the man's method was effective.

"Over here," a quiet voice said, barely heard over the reverberations.

"JOE!" boomed the ranger, charging over to where Joe Riley had appeared almost out of thin air. His lanky form was sprawled over a boulder, for all the world looking like he just woke up from a nap. The ranger grabbed the young man's hand in an enthusiastic handshake. "It sure is good to see you, boy, yes sir! We thought we would find you sprawled out on the prairie somewhere, what when you run off on us. That weren't a smart thing you done, but brave, no mistakin'! Did I ever tell you that you should think about joinin' up with us rangers?"

"Uh, yeah, Reese. More than once, as I recall."

"Well, you keep thinkin' on it, real hard-like." Reese suddenly seemed to remember something, so he continued. "Fact is, if you do want to join up, I'll be headin' straight back to Laredo with my prisoner here. He stole your horse, so I'll reckon you'll want to press charges, seein' as how he was one of the bunch you was fightin' with last night." Reese turned toward Chad. "Unless he's a friend of yours or somethin'."

Friends? Chad doubted it, not after what happened the last time they were together. One look at Joe told Chad all he needed to know about how Joe was fairing after the ordeal. To be completely honest, Joe looked absolutely haggard, almost like he hadn't had a decent rest since the time he was unconscious from the incident. His face looked thinner than Chad remembered, and when Joe slid off the large rock, a small wince pulled at the corner of one eye when his left leg touched the ground…the same one that had been crushed under Chad's black horse that day.

Joe answered Reese's question with a sigh. "Yeah, or somethin'."

Reese nodded like he understood, but clearly he didn't. "Uh, okay. Well, I'm gonna start hauling one of these poor devils back to the horses. Joe, will you do me a favor and secure the prisoner? Don't want him runnin' off."

Joe gave Reese a brief nod, after which the stocky ranger started dragging a dead man down the canyon floor, leaving the two remaining men alone. They just stared at each other for a time, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Joe started to say something. "Chad," he began.

Chad held up a hand. "No, Joe. Let me start. I know you're mad at me. It's all my fault—again! You almost get killed every time I'm around. So, just go ahead and take my gun, tie me up, do whatever you have to. Take me back to Laredo and throw me in jail. I might even give you a decent fight."

Joe's face turned dark, a sign he was becoming angry, something Chad wasn't expecting but welcomed. In fact, he almost wanted Joe to hit him. Maybe the pain to his body would actually take away some from his heart.

"I've ridden hundreds of miles just to find you, Chad," Joe said carefully, as though trying not to shout.

Guilt over the past consumed Chad even as fear rose. Joe was a dangerous man, not one to be crossed, and had considered Chad a friend, making the betrayal all the worse. Chad suddenly knew why Joe had tried so hard to find his former trail partner. Chad was partly afraid, partly relieved that his days of self-loathing were about to come to an end. "Well, here I am, Joe! You finally found me. Just get it over with before that ranger gets back!" Chad paused, confused when Joe did nothing.

"Chad…." Joe looked uncertain.

"Here, I'll make it easier on you," Chad said desperately, wanting it to be over before his nerve ran out. He yanked out his pistol and shoved it close to Joe's stomach. "I'm gonna kill you, Joe, if you don't draw!"

Joe nudged the end of the pistol away. "Chad, your gun ain't got no bullets."

Oh, right. Joe, ever observant. "Well, this one does," Chad said with false bravado as he pulled Slater's gun from his belt. He threw his own gun to the ground and put the loaded gun into his right hand. "Do it, Joe, before I plug you and make my escape."

Joe's deep brown eyes were searching Chad's face.

"Chad…."

"Joe, I swear by all things holy if you don't hurry up…." Unexpectedly his voice failed him. Were those…tears on his face? No, it was just sweat, surely.

"I've been on the trail for a while, Chad, with only one thing on my mind: find you." Chad's aim started to waver. He concentrated on keeping his arm steady. Joe's arms went slack at his side and his back straitened, a sign that he was preparing to draw. He continued speaking. "Now that I've found you, there's just one thing left to do."

"Do it, do it, do it…," Chad repeated, his finger tightening on the trigger, trying to appear threatening. He just couldn't take the guilt anymore.

Joe reached out his left hand, and Chad tensed as Joe grasped the gun and pointed it upward, away from himself.

"I'm gonna fight you, Joe, I'm gonna—"

Chad was unable to continue as the air was crushed from his lungs as Joe's arms yanked Chad into a fierce hold. Chad tensed, believing this to be the end. Joe would finally have his revenge. However, the arms did not feel menacing, like a man with the intent to harm, but rather, was Joe…hugging him?

Joe pulled back, and Chad was floored to see a smile on his face. "Chad-boy, why do you always have to be so dramatic about everythin'? I didn't ride all this way to kill you!"

"You…didn't…."

"Shucks, Chad, it was an accident! Why would I blame you for somethin' you couldn't control?"

Chad tried to back up but Joe was still gripping his arm. "Well, why wouldn't you? I put you up to it. It was my doing that you almost got killed."

"Almost, Chad, not completely. I'm still alive and a bit wiser from the whole deal. Now I know better than to trust you further than I can throw you." At Chad's wounded expression, Joe continued to say, "At least in matters of a gambling nature."

Chad felt a small smile creep across his face. "Can't blame you there…pard."

The relief on Joe's face at hearing the old nickname made Chad grin even larger.

The moment was broken when a sweating and hot Reese came stumbling back into their presence. "Hey, you two! What do you think you're doin'? Joe, you're supposed to be securing the prisoner, not jawin' with him."

Chad remembered with a sinking heart that the reunion was going to be short lived, for he was off to jail.

"Now, hold on, Reese. Chad here was thinkin' on declarin' amnesty."

"I was?"—"He was?"

"Well, yeah," Joe said, smirking, his eyes incredibly mischievous. "You sure do owe me, Chad, for somethin'." He rubbed at his shoulder, reminding Chad of the incident in Dodge. "Just thought I would give you a chance to repay the favor."

Chad crossed his arms. "And how exactly do you figure on doing that?"

Joe ignored Chad's question, instead turning to Reese. "Hey, you remember that time when you and Parmalee picked me up for horse stealin'?"

"Yeah, that was a while ago."

"You told me then that a man could declare amnesty from his crimes if he joined up with the Rangers, right? I had stole a horse, but you seemed to think I could get outta of it if I signed up for the Rangers, remember? That still apply?"

"Well, maybe. You'd have to talk to the Cap'n."

Chad couldn't believe what he was hearing. Join the Rangers? Never. "Now listen here—"

"Chad," Joe cut him off. "You don't want to go through what I did…goin' to the pen, or worse." His eyes sparked slyly. "Besides, you owe me. Big time."

"Why you—" Chad sputtered. He stalked around in a tight circle before turning back to thrust a finger in Joe's face. "This is blackmail, and you know it!"

Joe grinned, a smile that was infectious to Reese, who let out a small chuckle as he caught on to Joe's scheme. "The Rangers would be glad to have a gun like yours in the ranks, Chad."

Chad whirled to face the ranger, protesting. "That sounds like a good time and all—"

Joe slapped Chad on the back so hard it knocked the breath out of him. "Well, it's all settled then. Reese'll take you on over to the Ranger office soon as we get back to town."

Chad put his fists on his hips. "Yeah? And what are you going to be doing?"

Joe tipped his hat back on his head. "What do you mean, Chad?"

"You come all this way just to bamboozle me into joining the Rangers, just to abandon me to these…," he threw an arm in Reese's direction, who had the sense to feel offended, "…gentlemen."

Joe's brows pinched in the middle. "I don't know what you're gettin' at…."

Chad grabbed Joe's arm and dragged him over to Reese. "Hey, Reese. Look at this prime specimen of a man. Why, just moments ago you were recommending this buck here to a career in Texas Rangers, the finest corps of lawmen anywhere. Isn't that right?"

Reese grinned hugely. "Yes sir, the finest you could ever hope to find! And Joe would fit in right nicely, as I've been sayin' for a spell now. There's always room for fighters like you, Joe."

Joe sighed. Chad knew the big man was hooked. All Chad had to do was reel him in. "Really, Joe. Who will keep an eye on me? You know how I can find trouble anywhere I go. I like to think of you as a sort of guardian angel, pard. Where would I be without you? Lost and forgotten, that's what! Who found me wandering alone in the prairie? You did! Shucks, Joe, look what happened when you were gone. Near got myself killed, I did. You saved my hide once again. You can't leave me now, not when you know how I'm a dead man without you around to cover my back."

Joe put a finger in the air like he had a point to make, but then put the hand under his chin like he was trying to think of a reasonable response. He opened his mouth, but then shut it again, his eyes crossing in the mental strain.

Reese looked on sympathetically. "You sure can talk pretty, Chad. All my recruitment speech-giver said, 'sign up or die.'"

Chad took this statement and ran with it. "Sign up, Joe, or I'll die." He put on his most plaintive face. "Please."

Joe opened his mouth but couldn't find words. "Aaugh," he moaned, rolling his eyes in a signal of defeat before parting the men with two stiff arms and walking between them. He strode away, his boots churning through the sand.

Chad smirked at Joe's retreating back. "Nobody can outfox ol' Chad, no sir."

Reese poked Chad in the arm. "Well, Mr. Fox, prove to me you're worth the job and haul one of these poor boys back to the horses."

"Why not bury them here?"

Reese smirked. "Boy, you got a lot to learn if you're gonna be a ranger. There might be a re-ward on one of these hombres."

"Sign me up!"