Tom Ford's grave, placed close to the fence within a stone's throw of his workshop, was the newest. New shoots of grass had begun to sprout through the mound as though delivering the message that life carried on doing what it did naturally. A piece of wood, neatly carved with the name and age of the deceased, served as a headstone.

With reverence Chris reached out to touch the smooth carving that could only have been done by someone with a skilled touch. Whoever had etched the words had done his father proud.

"Say your piece and move on," a rough, gravely voice barked from behind him. "There's nothin' for you here."

Chris stiffened, fought down the sudden burst of anger that would have led him to doing something that he would regret. Instead, he slowly rose to his feet and took his time before turning from the grave to face his brother.

Charlie Ford was the spit of his father. Six four and broad-shouldered. He had a well-muscled frame and his stance suggested that he was ready for a fight. As did his rugged-featured face, the thin lips curved in a grimace while pure hatred smouldered in his dark narrow eyes. As his hawk nose twitched with disgust, he wiped the sleeve of his green-check shirt under his nostrils as though wiping away a foul odour.

"Just get on your horse and ride," Charlie spat the words out as though they were bullets.

"Can't do that," Chris replied evenly, not rising to the bait. "Hate to disappoint Ma."

"She won't be disappointed," Charlie sneered. "She'll be damned glad you never showed."

"That's not what Ma says," Chris was trying to keep his emotions under control for he neither wanted to do or say anything that would evoke a violent reaction. "Got a telegram from her asking me to come."

This piece of information took Charlie Ford off balance. His thick eyebrows lowered over his confused eyes. Quickly, he recovered from the shock and lurched forward to grab Chris's right arm in a firm grip.

"Don't see how that's possible," he growled out a warning. "But figurin' that to be true you'd best have your say and then move on."

"I'll be around for a while," Chris warned, breaking free of the grip. "I want Pa's killer standing trial."

Charlie shook his head: "There'll be no trial. You go play lawman someplace else because I intend to deal with Pa's killer myself."

"And just who do you figure killed Pa?" Chris asked, innocently.

"You did," Charlie exploded, thrusting his face into that of Chris. "Pa never lived down that day. That's why he took the badge to prove he was a better man than you. You just ain't got any idea of what you done." .............

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