Chapter Eighteen
June was usually the wet month on the vast
Montana plains, but nary a drop fell on the Triple C. Day after
day, the sun reigned over that big Calder sky, baking the ground to
hardpan and fracturing its surface with long cracks. River levels
dropped and several of the smaller creeks ran dry, not entirely an
unusual occurrence.
Come July, the drought deepened with no
relief in sight. The land was now in its second year of receiving
rainfall amounts well below average. The effects were visible
everywhere.
During his long tenure as head of the
Triple C, Chase had lived through many a dry cycle, but he hadn’t
seen the land this parched. He remembered the stories his father
had told him of the Dust Bowl years when everything was tinder-dry
and wind whipped the powdery dirt into walls of fast-moving clouds
that hugged the ground, pummeling everything in its
path.
Although the ranch had yet to
experience the dust storms, its overall condition wasn’t much
better and rapidly getting worse. And all the precautions his
father had taken years ago to make sure the ranch didn’t suffer as
badly again seemed to be failing one by one.
An aging and weary Stumpy Niles slumped
in the chair facing the desk, the bearer of more bad news. “That
well is drier than a bleached-white bone, Chase. That’s the second
one on South Branch in two weeks.”
“We’ll have to move the cattle,” Chase
concluded.
Stumpy gave a small harrumph and
challenged bleakly, “Where?”
Ty studied the framed map on the wall.
“What’s the range like around Hazard Creek?”
“It’s grazed about as low as you dare.
If you throw more cattle on it now, you’ll risk killing the roots,”
Stumpy replied. “Until it rains and the grass can grow back, you
can write it off.”
Water and grass had long been the two
most valuable resources on the Triple C. Many a grassland in the
West had been turned into a desert by overgrazing. The Calders had
managed to keep their land from suffering that fate through careful
husbandry and an awareness that grass was a precious and
irreplaceable resource.
Dry years were part of nature’s cycle.
And the tactics to survive them had changed little over
time.
“Check out the north range,” Chase
said. “The best grass is usually there, and Cat mentioned they
received a quarter of an inch a couple weeks ago.”
“That grass won’t last long,” Stumpy
warned.
“You’re right. It won’t,” Chase agreed
and swiveled his chair to glance at Ty. “I think we need to take a
long tour of the ranch ourselves and get a firsthand look at the
shape it’s in. I have a feeling we’ll have to start the fall
roundup early—like next week.”
“The fat cattle market isn’t very good
right now,” Ty reminded him.
“Right now they have weight on them. If
we don’t get some good soaking rains, they’ll walk it off come fall
searching for grass and water. We’ll take a loss, but if we hold
off, hoping for rain, we’ll take a bigger one.” And possibly do
irreparable damage to the land in the process. Chase didn’t say
that. But it was there in his mind. He swung his chair back toward
Stumpy. “You might as well have your boys start the gather at South
Branch first thing in the morning.”
Stumpy nodded and wearily pushed out of
the chair. “It’ll be a hot and thirsty one. You better truck over
some water to fill the tank at the Connors windmill. It’s so low
now they can barely reach it.”
Engrossed in the map, Ty didn’t notice
when Stumpy exited the den. A snaking line marked the course of one
of two free-flowing rivers that ran through the Triple C, rivers
that had never been known to run dry.
“I’ll let Sally know we won’t be here
for lunch, then we can leave.” Chase rose from his chair, then
paused, quick to notice Ty’s absorption with the map. “Is there a
problem?”
Pulling in a deep breath, Ty shook his
head and made a slow turn away from the old map. “No. I was just
thinking.”
“About what?” Chase studied him slowly,
probing for the cause of his distraction.
“About all the grass and water on the
Wolf Meadow range, and how much we need it right now.”
“No.” The flat, hard statement came out
of nowhere.
Ty frowned. “What are you talking
about? No, what?”
“No, we are not making any deal with
Tara to lease it—just in case your thoughts were headed in that
direction,” Chase replied in a voice that brooked no opposition.
“There will be no Triple C cow on that land until we have free
title to it.”
“I don’t disagree, but that may be a
long time from now,” Ty warned.
“Maybe. It all depends on how soon Tara
tires of flying in and out of it. She has never struck me as a
patient woman.”
Catching a movement in his side vision,
Ty turned just as a black Range Rover pulled up to The Homestead.
“Speak of the devil,” he murmured to Chase, “Tara’s
here.”
“An apt phrase,” Chase concluded, a wry
twist to his mouth. “God knows, she’s bedeviled us
lately.”
“I’ll see what she wants.” Ty moved
toward the door.
“Is Buck with her?”
Ty nodded. “It looked like he was
driving—as usual.” A part of him would have preferred that Tara
fire Buck. Another part of him liked the idea that he knew exactly
where the man was. He certainly wasn’t foolish enough to believe
that his warning had scared Buck off.
It was possible, but Ty wasn’t counting
on it.
When he walked out the front door, Tara
came up the steps, her dark hair unbound and swinging about her
shoulders. Her lips parted in a smile of pleasure when she saw
him.
“Ty, darling, I was just coming to see
you.”
“You should have called first.” His
glance skipped briefly past, locating Buck still seated behind the
wheel. “I was just leaving.”
“This won’t take but a minute,” she
promised with a coy dip of her head and upward glance of her
dark-shining eyes.
“A minute is about all you’ll have,” Ty
warned.
“What on earth is so important that you
have to rush off?” Tara issued the protest in a chiding
tone.
“It’s ranch business.”
“I should have known. It’s always ranch
business.” Her smile retained its hint of amusement of mock
exasperation.
“What is it you want?”
“I’m here to issue an invitation—one
that’s much too important to be given over the telephone,” she
replied.
“An invitation to what?” Ty asked, then
glanced over his shoulder when he heard the front door opening
behind him.
“Your timing couldn’t be better,
Chase,” Tara declared, quickly drawing him into the circle. “I was
about to issue a very special invitation.”
“An invitation to what?” he asked,
unwittingly echoing Ty’s previous question.
“An invitation to dinner,” Tara
replied, a catlike smile of pure pleasure curving her lips. “A very
special dinner in my new home, this Saturday around sevenish.
Strictly casual, of course. I want all of you to come—Sally, Jessy,
the twins, Cat, Logan, everyone. The interior designer still has a
few touches he wants to add, but nearly all of the furnishings have
arrived, including a pair of highchairs for the twins to use.” She
cocked her head at a provocative angle. “Do you see why this wasn’t
an invitation I wanted to make over the phone? It will be my first
time to entertain guests in my new home. You can’t possibly know
how exciting that is to me. You will come, won’t you?”
“Of course we’ll come,” Chase replied
without hesitation, ignoring the slightly elevated eyebrow Ty aimed
in his direction. “Around seven on Saturday, right?”
“That’s correct,” Tara acknowledged,
then declared, “This is absolutely fabulous. I can hardly wait
until Saturday.”
“Neither can I,” Chase agreed with a
rare display of charm. “Considering the fortune you spent on this
house, I’m curious to see it.”
Tara released one of her melodic
laughs. “And a fortune it is, I suspect, but I have refused to
listen when my accountant attempts to tell me the total. Most of my
friends in Fort Worth think I’m crazy for doing this, but you can
tell they are secretly envious that I have a home in Montana
accessible only by air. The phrase has a certain cachet about it
that secretly appeals to them.”
“It has that ring of exclusivity they
tend to like, I imagine,” Ty remarked with a trace of censure. He
had never cared much for her circle of friends.
“How true,” Tara admitted. “I wouldn’t
be surprised, after they fly in to visit me, if there was a run on
property around here.”
“Really?” Chase showed his skepticism.
“I thought your friends would have preferred vacation homes with
mountain views rather than the flatness of the
plains.”
“Perhaps, but where I built, the
country is a bit more rugged and interesting.”
Before she could launch into a lengthy
description of her location, Ty interrupted, “Sorry, Tara, but your
minute is up. We have to get going.”
She waved a hand in a calming gesture.
“And I won’t keep you one second longer either. There will be ample
time to talk more at dinner on Saturday.”
When Tara turned to leave, Buck stepped
out of the Range Rover and onto its running board, his gaze seeking
Chase over the vehicle’s roof. “I don’t mean to butt in, Chase, but
I thought you’d wanta know you’ve got a cow down in that coulee
about a quarter mile east of Flat Bush corner. The way the calf was
bawlin’ over her, I’d say she was dead.”
“We’ll check it out,” Chase
stated.
“I thought you would. There were a
couple buzzards floatin’ in the air. The coyotes won’t be far
behind them. No sense in losin’ the calf to ’em.”
“We’ll go there first,” Chase said to
Ty. “Better hitch up a stock trailer and throw a couple horses in.
After we catch the calf, we can put it in with them.”
“Right away.” With long strides, Ty
moved off the porch and down the steps.
“I couldn’t help noticin’ that the
south range didn’t look in too good a shape,” Buck remarked. “It’s
none of my business, but you might want to give some thought to
gettin’ an early start on the fall roundup. It ’pears to me you
won’t gain nothin’ by waitin’.”
“South Branch starts the gather
tomorrow,” Chase stated.
Buck’s smile widened to a grin. “I
shoulda known you’d be two steps ahead of me.”
“You’re starting fall roundup now?” A
puzzled frown claimed Tara’s expression. “But it’s only
July.”
“I imagine you have been too busy
building your new home to notice, but we happen to be in the middle
of a severe drought,” Chase informed her, his voice as dry as the
dusty Calder soil.
It was the kind of remark that subtly
jabbed at her ignorance of the ranching business, the sort Tara had
heard often when she was married to Ty. As always, Tara bridled
inwardly at this veiled criticism. She had always prided herself on
being highly intelligent and hated being made to feel even slightly
nescient.
“Clearly I have much to learn about the
importance of such things out here. But I know you’ll teach me.”
Tara purred the words like a cat aching to unsheathe its claws,
while smiling the whole time. “Now, I promised I wouldn’t keep you,
and I won’t. See you on Saturday.”
She tripped lightly down the steps to
the Range Rover. Not until she was inside and they were on their
way out of the ranchyard did Tara unleash the temper she had held
so tightly in control. It was Buck who felt the brunt of
it.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again,”
she said with heat.
A sandy-white eyebrow shot up in
surprise. “Do what?”
“I sounded like a fool back there,”
Tara replied, still fuming over it. “You should have told me the
area was going through a drought.”
“It struck me as kinda obvious. After
all, it hasn’t rained more than a drop in months. The grass
crunches underfoot, an’ dust coats anything that doesn’t move
regular.”
“There have been dry spells before,”
Tara said in her own defense. “This could have been simply another
one. I couldn’t possibly know that it had gone on long enough to be
considered a drought. It’s part of your job to keep me informed
about such things. Among other things, you are supposed to teach me
all facets of the cattle business. And that includes the impact
weather can have on it.”
“Lately you’ve been more interested in
that house than ranchin’,” Buck pointed out.
“It’s taken more of my time, but you
could just as easily have pointed out the condition of the range to
me—and that dead cow—during the drive over here.” Then she could have been the one to tell Chase and Ty about
them. Instead she had showed her ignorance of such matters—again.
“The next time you notice such things, you are to tell me about
them before you mention them to anyone
else. Is that understood?”
“Loud and clear, Duchess.”
“And just why did you tell Chase about
them anyway?” Tara looked on him with sudden suspicion. “Since when
are you interested in insinuating yourself into his good
graces?”
“Pointin’ out the sad shape his graze
is in isn’t likely to cause Chase to look on me with favor. Nobody
likes bein’ told by others they got problems. Or what they should
do about ’em,” Buck added.
Unable to argue with his reasoning,
Tara conceded, “I suppose not.” Closing that subject, she moved on
to the next. “Let’s don’t waste this drive back to town. Point out
to me all the things that Ty and Chase will be noticing and explain
their importance.”
Pulling in a deep breath, Buck looked
around and proceeded to lecture her on the essentials of grass and
water and the fundamentals of ranching—the amount of land required
per cow, the preferred walking distance to water, and the
repercussions anytime the two didn’t jive. It was a lesson in
economics and land management, and the fine line that sometimes had
to be walked to achieve a profit. Now and then he would interrupt
himself to direct her attention to a dry creek, the motionless
blades of a windmill that could be an indication of a dry well, or
a cow still grazing at a time of day when it would normally be
lying down chewing its cud. All were small things, significant only
to a rancher.
Always a quick study, Tara absorbed
every minute detail, determined not to be embarrassed
again.
Ty and Chase saw all those things and
more. The course of action was obvious: an immediate ranch-wide
roundup and a downsizing of all the herds to a number the land
could safely support. That included the horse herds.
That evening the order went out to
every corner of the vast ranch to gear up for roundup. Since the
situation was at a critical stage in the South Branch section, they
would start there.
Come morning, Dick Ballard let himself
into The Homestead. Only strangers bothered to knock first. To his
knowledge, the front door had never been locked. He seriously
doubted that a key existed for it anymore.
As he headed toward the den, a young
Trey charged through the living room, giggling with glee, his
diapered bottom waddling from side to side and his legs pumping as
fast as they could to elude Jessy’s grasp. But she was right behind
him. When she scooped him up, he squealed in protest, writhing and
kicking to break free.
“Looks like you might need to hog-tie
that wild one,” Ballard observed with an easy grin.
“Believe me, it’s a very tempting
thought. Unfortunately I don’t have a piggin’ string handy.” Not
without effort, Jessy managed to subdue her young son. “Escape
seems to be the only thing on his mind these days. I can’t imagine
how we’re going to keep him corralled at Tara’s new
house.”
“You’re going over there?” He showed
his surprise at this piece of news.
“She’s invited us all to dinner on
Saturday.”
An instant concern swept his
expression. “You watch yourself over there.”
But Jessy wasn’t worried. “She won’t
try anything—not with the whole Calder clan there, including Cat
and Logan.”
“Maybe not, but you be careful just the
same,” he insisted and glanced toward the den’s open door. “Is Ty
or Chase in there?”
“Chase is. Ty left about an hour
ago.”
“Thanks.” With a nod, he resumed his
path to the room. Chase was on the telephone when he walked in.
Ballard wandered over to the window to wait until he was
through.
The minute Chase hung up, he was quick
to challenge. “Why haven’t you left for South Branch?”
“That’s what I came to talk to you
about,” Ballard acknowledged with a small bob of his head. “If it’s
all the same to you, I’d like to sit out the roundup and stick
close to headquarters. Things are always comin’ up about the
auction that need to be handled and I—”
“—want to keep an eye on Jessy,” Chase
cut across his words to state the true reason behind the request.
Reading the startled question in Ballard’s expression, Chase
confirmed, “Jessy mentioned the suspicions you have about
Tara.”
“I should have remembered that Jessy
has always been a forthright woman. I probably should have come to
you with ’em but I got nothin’ to base ’em on but a gut feeling,”
Ballard admitted. “Still I can’t help thinkin’ there wouldn’t be a
better opportunity with everybody off to roundup and hardly anyone
around headquarters. If I was gonna pick a time, that would be it.
And I sure couldn’t look myself in the mirror if anything did
happen an’ I was off chasin’ a bunch of cows.”
“I’m not sure I share your concern,”
Chase answered thoughtfully. “By the same token, I’m not willing to
risk being wrong. You stay here and keep an eye on
things.”
“I appreciate that, Chase.” Ballard
smiled his relief then sobered with a new thought. “You do know Ty
may not like the idea if he finds out. He doesn’t understand that
me and Jessy go back a long ways. I can see why it wouldn’t sit
right with him, him bein’ married to her an’ all.”
“I’ll square it with him,” Chase
promised. “Is there anything else?”
The question was a subtle prod to
leave. “Nope. That just about does it,” Ballard replied and headed
for the door, adding as he went, “You can rest easy that nothin’s
gonna happen to Jessy. I’ll see to that.”
Try as he might, Chase couldn’t put
much stock in Ballard’s suspicions. He doubted that he would be
able to as long as Buck was in the picture. It was a prejudice he
had, one that could blind him. Which was the reason he had agreed
to Ballard’s request.
The sun sat low in the Saturday evening
sky, throwing its strong yellow light over the Wolf Meadow range,
intensifying the ochre hues in the stone and stucco exterior of the
newly constructed house. During his only other visit to the site,
Ty had taken little notice of the low and sprawling, single-story
house. This time he ran an inspecting eye over it as they
approached the thickly graveled area in front of it.
Its roof was steeply pitched to shed
winter snow and shingled in a dusty brown color that blended with
the face of the butte behind it. The roof line extended far beyond
the exterior walls, shading the south-facing windows from the sun’s
glare and creating a covered porch along the front, with stone
pillars for support.
In the back seat, Sally craned her neck
to get a better view of the house. “That’s it, isn’t it?” she
murmured, then added with a touch of surprise, “It isn’t quite as
grand as I expected. Do you think so, Jessy?”
Jessy was quicker to note how much
ground it covered. “It’s bigger than you think. But it could have
been worse.”
“She could have built it on top of the
mesa.” Dryness rustled through Ty’s voice.
Chase reacted with a harrumph. “Thank
God for small favors.”
Approaching the graveled area, Ty
slowed the vehicle and swept his gaze over the rest of the site. A
helicopter sat in readiness on a concrete pad a goodly distance
from both the house and the bluff, sharing the skyline with
windmill eleven. Roughly the same distance from the house to the
left stood the horse corral.
“Looks like they’re building a stable,”
Chase remarked, taking note of the construction in progress near
the corral. “Isn’t that a house trailer back there?” With a frown,
Chase peered at some sort of structure near the
corral.
“Could be.” Catching a movement in the
rearview mirror, Ty glanced up to see the reflection of another
vehicle behind them. “Here comes Logan and Cat.”
Chase checked his watch. “One minute
before seven. That’s as close to being on time as you can
get.”
Both vehicles parked on the gravel near
the stone walk that led to the house. As Jessy freed Laura from the
car seat, Tara emerged from the house to welcome them.
Strictly casual, Tara had said the
dress would be. But Tara’s definition of casual had always been
slightly different from others. This evening she wore a squaw skirt
and matching blouse in a rich wine red. The hem of the skirt
skimmed her shins, revealing the fashionable boots she wore. A
chunky belt, mounted with silver and strung with elongated conchos,
showed off the smallness of her waist. Her ebony hair was pulled
back in a sleek chignon, the severe style accenting the perfection
of her face.
Casual? Jessy supposed it was, but it
left her feeling a little underdressed in her sea green slacks and
top. Being around Tara, it was something she was used to
experiencing. It no longer bothered Jessy that much.
After the usual exchange of greetings
with their hostess, Tara clasped her hands together with barely
suppressed delight. “I can’t believe you all arrived at the same
time. This is perfect.” With a graceful pivot and a presenting
sweep of her hand, she directed their attention to the house. “Here
it is. My new home. What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” Cat answered for all
of them.
“It is, isn’t it?” Tara unabashedly
agreed. “Obviously not every little thing is finished yet—like the
landscaping. But we are planting only native shrubs. I made it
clear to the landscape architect that I wanted the grounds to be an
extension of the plains. Perhaps a few flowering plants in
containers on the porch, but that is all. And something still has
to be done to finish the driveway area, but I haven’t decided if I
want to do it in stained concrete or pave it with brick or
stone.”
“I noticed you are building a stable by
the corral,” Ty remarked.
“Yes. At the moment it will hold six
horses, but I have space to expand it to ten if I choose,” Tara
explained. “And the architect is working on drawings for some sort
of hangar shed and fuel storage facility for the helipad area. Once
it’s finished, we’ll extend the driveway to it.”
“What about the trailer over by the
corral?” Chase asked. “Is someone living there?”
“Buck Haskell and his father, for the
time being anyway,” Tara replied and smiled with a touch of wry
resignation. “That’s another thing that has to be built yet—a house
for the groundskeeper, but I’m still debating about the exact site
for it. I have to decide soon, though. It needs to be finished
before winter.”
Trey chose that moment to let loose
with a protesting shriek as he twisted in Ty’s arms, wanting down
to run off some of his pent-up energy from the drive. His angry
outcry initially startled Tara. But she quickly
laughed.
“Bored with standing around, are you,
young man?” She playfully tweaked his arm. “I think you are
absolutely right. Let’s all go inside. You must be thirsty after
that dusty ride. We’ll have a drink. Then I’ll show you around the
house before we sit down to dinner.”
Without further ado, Tara ushered them
into the house and straight to the main living area she identified
as the great room. It possessed a comfortable lodge-like atmosphere
with slate floors and roughly textured walls painted a soft gold
that cast a warm glow over the room. Its decor was a curious blend
of Western and Old World, bergère-style chairs upholstered in
geometric-patterned fabric reminiscent of Navajo designs, an
overstuffed leather sofa scattered with tapestry pillows. A deep
red Persian rug covered the floor beneath a sturdy wooden coffee
table, and antlered chandeliers hung from a darkly paneled coffered
ceiling. Dominating the entire room was a massive fireplace, built
of moss stone.
A waiter, dressed in cowboy boots, blue
jeans, and a pearl-snapped plaid shirt, moved among the group,
first taking their drink orders then returning with them. When all
had their drinks in hand, Tara raised her wineglass, signaling a
toast.
“A warm welcome to all of you, my first
dinner guests at Dunshill.” There was a knowing look in Tara’s
dark-shining eyes as she sought out Ty.
“Dunshill?” Sally repeated in unspoken
question.
“Yes. That’s what I have decided to
call my new home,” Tara explained.
“After the mesa outside?” Sally asked,
clearly puzzled by the choice.
But Ty had no such problem. He had made
the connection immediately. But like his father, he left it to Tara
to answer Sally’s question.
“Not at all,” Tara replied, a deepening
of the knowing quality in her smile. “I named it after the wife of
the Earl of Crawford, Lady Elaine Dunshill, who was a business
partner of sorts with the first Chase Calder years and years
ago.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Cat exclaimed,
recognition dawning in her expression. “I had forgotten all about
her.”
“I didn’t,” Tara replied and lifted her
glass again. “To my guests,” she repeated the toast and took a sip
of wine.
Everyone followed suit. But Sally
wasn’t about to let the subject drop now that her curiosity was
aroused. “If you don’t mind me asking, whatever made you decide to
name your place after her?”
“That’s easy.” Tara smiled. “Ever since
I began working with Ty on the auction, she has been on my mind.
Lady Dunshill has become something of an inspiration to me.
Therefore it seemed appropriate to name this estate after her. In a
way, it’s like history repeating itself.”
“Except she never owned any Calder
land,” Ty inserted the dry reminder.
“No, not to my knowledge she didn’t,”
Tara conceded and swiftly directed the conversation back to its
original topic. “But it still wouldn’t surprise me one bit to find
out she was once a Calder.”
“That’s right. I remember when you
showed me those photographs,” Cat recalled. “One was of Lady Elaine
and the other was a picture of my great-great-grandmother. You were
convinced they were the same person, one as a young girl and the
other as a much older woman.”
“You must admit the resemblance was
amazing—the same coloring, the same features, the same overall look
and expression,” Tara added.
“It was a little uncanny,” Cat
remembered, then divided a quick glance between Sally and Logan,
suddenly realizing that neither knew what she and Tara were talking
about. “Tara has this theory that my great-grandmother Madelaine
Calder and Lady Elaine Dunshill were one in the same person. She
based it both on their physical similarities and on an old family
story. The way I heard the it,” she continued, “my
great-grandmother ran away with a remittance man when Chase Benteen
Calder was just a little boy.”
“What on earth is a remittance man?”
Sally asked, a slight laugh in her voice.
“As I understand it, the term was
usually applied to a younger, ne’er-do-well son of a wealthy
European family, usually members of the aristocracy. They often
paid him an allowance not to come home,” Cat
explained.
It was an old story to Ty, one that had
interested him little in the past, and even less now. But he
remembered how excited Tara had been when she discovered the two
photographs. At the time she had been thrilled by the possibility a
Calder might be linked, however nefariously, to English
aristocracy.
“Obviously you can see the
coincidence,” Cat said. “Madelaine Calder runs off with a
remittance man. Then years later, Lady Elaine Dunshill, the wife of
an earl, shows up at the Triple C.” Cat lifted her hands, palms up,
to indicate she wasn’t sure what it meant.
Laura started fussing in Jessy’s arms.
When Jessy checked, her suspicion was confirmed. After gathering up
the bulky diaper bag, she turned to Tara. “Excuse me. Is there
someplace I can change Laura’s diaper?”
“Of course. Down that hallway, second
door on the right.” Tara pointed to a wide archway framed in stone
that opened off the great room. After a second’s hesitation, she
offered, “If you like, I can show you the way.”
But something in Tara’s expression made
it obvious that she thought it unnecessary. “I’ll find it. Thanks.”
Toting the diaper bag, Jessy moved toward the stone arch and the
hall beyond it.
Tara immediately turned back to Ty. “I
still think it would be fascinating to do a little research into
Lady Dunshill’s background. I would be curious to find out who she
was, before she married the Earl of Crawford, and where she was
from.”
“It’s hardly important.” He lifted his
shoulders in a shrug of disinterest.
“I don’t know how important it is, but
there is this blank spot in your family history. What happened to
the runaway Madelaine Calder? Where did she go? What did she do?
When did she die? Where? Your family tree won’t be complete without
that information,” Tara argued lightly.
“Actually it would be interesting to
track down more information on the family,” Cat said thoughtfully.
“Not just Madelaine Calder, but Grandpa’s wife Lily, too. And where
was Seth Calder born? In Texas?” She glanced at her father for the
answer. “Do you know?”
“I can’t recall anyone mentioning it to
me,” Chase admitted. “And I was never curious enough to ask. I know
he had a ranch somewhere outside of Fort Worth called the C Bar.
Beyond the fact that he was buried in Fort Worth, that’s about all
I know.”
“We really should document our family’s
history,” Cat decided. “For the sake of future generations, if
nothing else.”
“I can’t disagree with you, Cat. What
do you say, Ty?” Chase cast a glance his direction, eyes twinkling.
“Shall we put Cat in charge of it?”
“I think she’s the perfect choice,” he
agreed, smiling.
“You two are making a joke of this, but
I’m serious.” Cat wore a determined look.
“So are we,” Chase assured her,
fighting back a smile.
“Wonderful. It’s all settled.” Tara
beamed at the three of them. “It will be a fascinating project,
Cat. If I can help at all, let me know. In the meantime,
though”—she paused and pressed a hand on Ty’s arm, claiming his
attention—“I have a favor to ask of you.”
“What’s that?”
“I know the perfect housewarming gift
you can give me.”
“You’re assuming I planned to give you
one,” Ty countered.
“You wouldn’t be so rude, and I know
it,” she insisted confidently. “Shall I tell you what it
is?”
He noted the avid gleam in her eyes. “I
think you should before you burst.”
Tara tipped back her head and laughed,
exposing the slender curve of her throat. “You know me so well, Ty.
The mere thought excites me because I know it will be the perfect
finishing touch for the house.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Cat
protested a trifle impatiently. “What is it?”
“The loan of Lady Dunshill’s
photograph. Just long enough for me to have a good copy made from
it,” Tara added in quick assurance. “I know this excellent portrait
artist who creates the most stunning works, almost entirely from
photographs. And the minute I walked into this room and saw this
huge stone fireplace when the masons finished, I knew whose picture
I wanted hanging above the mantel. Lady Dunshill, the home’s
namesake.” Tara swung around to face the fireplace and contemplated
the empty area above the mantel. “Won’t a portrait of her make a
perfect focal point for the room?” She sent an appealing look over
her shoulder to Ty. “Say that you will loan me the photograph. I
won’t need it for more than a week.”
Without an adequate reason to refuse,
Ty replied, “I’ll look for it the first chance I get.”
“It’s probably still buried in that old
trunk in the attic with all the rest of the photographs. Perhaps
one day next week we can look for it,” she said to Cat. “With
roundup starting, Ty will be too busy. And there is an absolute
treasure trove of memorabilia up there, both of the family and the
ranch’s early days. It will be an ideal starting point for your
research of the family.”
Cat hesitated, no longer quick to agree
to any suggestion from Tara as she once might have been. “Actually
Quint and I promised to help with roundup, but maybe we can slip
away for an afternoon. We’ll see.”
“Wonderful.” Tara considered it a firm
date.
Jessy had no difficulty locating the
guest room. Its decor was another artful blend of old and new that
was both rustic and elegant. The bed offered the only flat surface
big enough, short of the floor, to lay Laura on. Jessy took one
look at the bed’s off-white coverlet and dug a receiving blanket
out of the diaper bag to spread beneath Laura.
The minute Jessy laid her down, Laura
stopped fussing and took immediate interest in her new
surroundings. Her eye was first caught by an old rocker in the
corner, its wood finished in a distressed white, and its seat and
back cushion covered in a black-and-white cowhide. Next Laura
became fascinated by the gauzy drapes that swooped from a half-moon
canopy to the end posts of the rusted iron headboard.
All the twisting and turning slowed the
diaper changing process, but it was nothing new to Jessy. One more
corner to pin and she would be finished.
Laura pointed a finger at the drapes.
“P’etty, Mama. P’etty.”
“Very pretty.” The pin secured, Jessy
reached for the ruffled and plastic-lined panties that matched
Laura’s dress.
As she slipped them on, she became
conscious of a prickly sensation along the back of her neck. Jessy
suddenly had that uneasy feeling she was being watched. A quick
glance assured her there was no one in the hallway.
When she stood Laura up to pull the
panties over the bulky diaper, Jessy snuck a look at the
sheer-curtained window behind her. Her blood ran cold when she saw
the dark silhouette of a slim man in a cowboy hat looking into the
room.
Haskell. Who else could it be? Jessy
reasoned. A dozen thoughts whipped through her mind at once,
Ballard’s warning among them. Her first impulse was to walk
straight to the window, push back the sheers, and confront him. But
having Laura with her made Jessy more cautious than she might have
been on her own.
Careful to give no sign she had seen
him standing outside, yet alert to any sound or movement, Jessy
swung Laura onto her hip, picked up the diaper bag and walked
unhurriedly from the guest room.
Approaching the great room, Jessy
noticed Chase not far from the archway, standing apart from the
others, a drink in his hand. She walked up to his
side.
“Just now there was a man outside the
window, watching while I changed Laura’s diaper.” She kept her
voice pitched at a level intended for his hearing only. “I think it
was Haskell.”
Chase didn’t bother to ask questions.
“Ty.” His voice was hard with command. “Someone was outside. Come
on.”
He headed for the door, setting his
drink on a table. After a startled second, Ty handed Trey to Cat
and went after him. Logan was only a half-step behind both
men.
“What’s going on?” Tara frowned in
confusion then whirled on Jessy. “He said someone was outside. What
was he talking about?”
“Just that. There was someone outside
watching me through the window.” She was blunt with her answer, her
eyes cold in their regard of Tara.
“Just now?” Sally gaped at
her.
“That’s ridiculous. You must have
imagined it,” Tara insisted.
“You mean, while you were changing
Laura’s diaper?” Cat said, as stunned as Sally.
Ignoring all of them, Jessy headed for
the door, as eager as the men to confront the man. Tara, Sally, and
Cat were quick to follow her.
Jessy reached the front walk in time to
hear Chase bark, “Stop right there, Buck.”
As she rounded the corner of the house,
Jessy spotted the three men converging on a fourth, dressed in
jeans, a blue chambray shirt, and a cowboy hat. Buck swung around
to face them with an almost studied nonchalance. Even with the brim
of his hat shading his features, there was no doubt in Jessy’s mind
Buck was the same man she had seen moments ago.
“What’s got you in such an uproar,
Chase?” Buck drawled with a kind of lazy innocence.
“You were seen looking in the window,
Buck,” Chase stated, a steely flatness to his voice.
Buck drew his head back in a show of
surprise. “What window? What the hell are you talkin’
about?”
“Don’t try to bluff your way out of
this, Buck,” Chase warned. “It won’t work.”
Before Buck had a chance to respond,
Tara arrived and inserted herself into the conversation. “Jessy
claims there was a man outside the window watching her a few
minutes ago.”
“Well, she’s wrong,” Buck declared
forcefully.
Ty took an angry step forward, “You
were warned—”
Logan laid a restraining hand on his
arm and smoothly placed himself between Ty and Buck. “Why don’t you
tell us what you’re doing out here, Buck?”
“I noticed somebody skulkin’ around the
house.” Buck kept his eyes on Ty. “I figured it was probably
O’Rourke and came over to take a look-see. For all I know, I
could’ve been standin’ in front of a window, but I sure as hell
wasn’t lookin’ in. I was tryin’ to spot where O’Rourke had
disappeared to.”
It was a plausible explanation, one
that Jessy found difficult to refute. The many folds of the sheers
had prevented her from seeing more than the silhouette of a hatted
man. Any other details had been obscured.
“There’s your answer.” Tara lifted her
hand in a presenting gesture. “Obviously Jessy only imagined that
he was peering in the window. Isn’t that right?” Her dark gaze
gleamed with confidence.
“It’s possible,” Jessy admitted, still
searching her memory in an attempt to pinpoint the reason she had
been certain the man was looking inside.
“Culley is around here somewhere,”
Logan inserted quietly. “I caught a glimpse of that bay gelding he
always rides grazing in one of the draws as we were driving
in.”
“You see, it was all a mistake,” Tara
proclaimed and cast a pitying smile at Jessy. “It’s an easy one to
make. I know if I saw a man standing outside a bedroom window, I
would assume he was looking in. Any woman would.” She turned her
smile on the others. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m
relieved this whole fuss was over nothing.”
“Just make sure it stays that way,” Ty
warned, continuing his stare-down of Buck.
Wisely, Buck made no response to
that.
But Tara was quick to slide a calming
hand over Ty’s arm. “Ty Calder, I swear you are just itching for a
fight,” she chided, all beguiling charm. “This is a special evening
for me. Don’t you go spoiling my first dinner party.” Then, as if
to end this confrontation once and for all, she smoothly glanced at
Buck. “Go on back to the trailer. And pay no attention if you see
Culley about the place. He isn’t likely to cause any
harm.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Buck dipped his head in a
respectful nod and backed up a few steps before turning to head
toward the trailer.
“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Tara
suggested to all of them. “Dinner will be ready soon, and I still
haven’t shown you the rest of the house.”
The incident was not referred to again
that evening, but the memory of it stayed, like an uninvited guest
at the table, creating a tension that didn’t allow any of them to
totally relax.
Later that night back at The Homestead,
the twins fell asleep almost before the covers were tucked around
them. Bending, Jessy smoothed a dark strand of hair off Trey’s
forehead.
“They’re exhausted,” she murmured to
Ty.
“It’s been a long day for
them.”
“It was.” Jessy nodded in agreement and
drifted toward the door along with Ty.
Both paused in the opening to make a
final check on the pair. A dim nightlight spilled over the sleeping
toddlers and the baby monitor was positioned on a dresser between
the cribs, ready to transmit the first cry from either of
them.
Satisfied that all was quiet and likely
to stay that way, they left the room, closing the door behind them.
In a companionable silence, they walked to the master suite next
door to the twins’ room. Jessy went directly to the closet to
change into her nightshirt while Ty crossed to the bed and sat down
to pull off his boots.
The first one had thudded to the floor
when Jessy called from the closet, “What time are you getting up in
the morning?”
Ty held the other boot while he thought
about it. “It’s a two-hour drive to South Branch. Three-thirty, I
guess. I want to be there by first light.”
He placed the boot next to its mate
then reached over to set the alarm clock as Jessy emerged from the
closet, wearing a T-shirt that stopped about midthigh.
“Set it for three, and I’ll fix you
some breakfast before you go.” Tomorrow might be Sunday, but once
roundup started, it continued seven days a week until it was
finished.
“No, I’ll grab a bite at the chuck
wagon with the rest of the hands.” Ty stood up and tugged his
shirttail out from the waistband of his dress jeans.
“I won’t argue,” Jessy replied, a
faintly mischievous gleam in her eyes. “I’ll be glad of the extra
sleep.”
“Keep gloating like that and I’ll make
sure you’re wide awake before I leave,” Ty declared in a mock
threat, peeling off his shirt and tossing it at her.
She caught it easily and detoured to
the clothes hamper. “As soon as the twins wake up from their
afternoon nap tomorrow, we’ll drive over and have supper with
you.”
“No, don’t.”
The firmness in his voice prompted
Jessy to pause in the act of depositing his dirty shirt in the
hamper. She threw him a startled look. “Why not?”
“Because there is no need for you to
drive all the way over there. I’ll be home by nine or ten.” There
was an edge to his voice that puzzled Jessy.
“The twins will be asleep by then.” She
dropped the shirt in the hamper and closed the lid.
“I expect they will be.” Ty emptied the
pockets of his jeans and placed their contents atop the tall
dresser, his back angled to her. “Just the same, I prefer that you
don’t come out.”
He had left something unsaid, something
Jessy had a feeling she wouldn’t like at all. But she needed to be
certain.
“Don’t come out tomorrow—or anytime?”
Her demand for clarification was close to a challenge.
After the smallest pause, he turned,
his glance bouncing off her. “Anytime,” Ty said, a closed-up look
to his expression.
The incident with Buck Haskell was
behind this; Jessy was certain of it. “Buck Haskell is not going to
scare me into hiding,” she declared with force, angered that Ty
would even suggest that she should.
“Jessy,” Ty began in a reasoning
tone.
“Don’t Jessy me!” she
flashed.
As calm and steady as she was by
nature, Jessy had a temper that was the match of any man’s when
aroused. And Ty knew he had triggered it. He moved into her path,
catching her by the shoulders and immediately noting her
stiffness.
“Cool down and listen for a minute,” he
said.
“Why? I’m not going to like it any
better this time.” Jessy glared at him, not backing down an
inch.
Ty studied the angry glitter in her
eyes, aware that she felt all things passionately—love and hate,
joy and grief—but she seldom let it show.
“I don’t often ask you to do something
for me. But I’m asking now.” Ty was careful to word it as a
request, not an order. “Stick close to headquarters.”
“I won’t be any safer here than at
roundup. That rebuilt shoulder of yours is proof of that,” Jessy
stated with heat. “At roundup, I would be surrounded by dozens of
hands. Here, it’s just me and a bunch of old men.”
Ty couldn’t explain why he felt so
strong about this. There was no logic in it. The request was based
purely on a gut feeling that wouldn’t stand up under an
argument.
“Do you know when you get angry, your
eyes flash fire and your lips lay all tight together?” he mused
aloud.
“Don’t change the subject, Ty.” The
fire in her eyes leapt a little higher.
“Why not?” He shifted a hand to the
side of her neck and stroked his thumb over the clean line of her
jaw. “I’ve made my request. I’m not going to try to talk you into
it. You’ll either agree to it or you won’t.”
Ty bent his head and tested the
tightness of her lips. When they failed to soften immediately, he
shifted his attention to her cheek and the shell of her
ear.
“Give me one good reason why I should
agree,” Jessy challenged, but in a voice that suggested she might
be open to reason.
“That’s easy,” Ty murmured, smiling as
he nuzzled her neck. “Because you love me.” His arms encircled her,
molding her T-shirt-clad body to his length.
“That’s not fair.” But Jessy smiled the
protest and slipped her own arms around him, spreading them over
the corded muscles along his back to increase the
closeness.
Pretending to misunderstand, Ty drew
his head back to look at her. “You mean you don’t love
me?”
“You know very well I do,” Jessy
chided, her eyes shining with love as she ran her gaze over his
face.
“Good. Because it’s becoming more and
more obvious to me that there is nothing under this T-shirt but
your skin.” In a silent reinforcement of his statement, his hands
glided down the small of her back and over the womanly shape of her
firm buttocks and hips.
“And you are wearing way too much.” Her
fingers worked to loosen the waist of his jeans.
“We’ll have to do something about
that.” At the moment he was more interested in exploring the giving
taste of her mouth. There would be time later for the heat and
urgency of skin against skin.
Stretched in a limp sprawl with Ty’s
warm flank against hers, the bed covers kicked to the foot and a
fine sheen of perspiration covering her body, Jessy reveled in the
tingling aftermath of their lovemaking. It mellowed the stand she
had previously taken.
“I’ve been thinking,” she murmured as
an opening.
“So have I.” Ty stifled a yawn.
“Three-thirty is sounding earlier and earlier.”
A smile curved the wide edges of her
mouth. “Actually I was thinking about something else.” Jessy rolled
onto her side to study the craggy male lines of his face. “Roundup
will last another two weeks or more. I can’t guarantee I’ll stay
close to headquarters that whole time. But if I do leave, I promise
I will be extra cautious.”
For a woman who loved open country and
the feel of a horse beneath her, it was a major concession, and Ty
knew it. Reaching out, he drew her into the hollow of his
shoulder.
“I’ll rest easier in my mind knowing
that,” he murmured.
Yet her assurance did little to chase
away the shadows that lurked at the edge of his consciousness,
without shape or identity.