Lone Calder Star (17 page)

By the time she finished her story, Quint had the feeling that Dallas was holding something back.

Something that she didn't want her grandfather to know. He suspected she was afraid for him, and seeking to hide that fear from her grandfather.

Empty Garner leaned back in his chair and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans. "So all of Boone's talk boils down to one thing-if I don't quit working here, Rutledge is going to see that you lose your job and likely put our truck out of commission, probably by using that old trick of pouring sugar into the gas tank. Then, just to sweeten the pot, he tells you that if you talk me into quitting, his pa might be predisposed to paying for your college."

"It seems to me," Quint began, "the only thing missing is a veiled suggestion that some harm might come to Empty if he refused. Or did you just omit that part, Dallas?" He never altered the idle tone of his voice, letting all the challenge be in his words.

She shot him a look of sharp reproach, unaware of the glimmer of pain in her eyes. "He hinted that something might happen to him," Dallas admitted curtly, "then covered it by reminding me that my grandfather was an old man, well up in years."

"I'm shaking in my boots," Empty declared with thick scorn. "Just let them try something and they'll wish they hadn't."

Quint ignored the old man's boastful words. "What do you think your chances are of getting Boone to repeat the things he told you?"

Dallas eyed him warily. "Why?"

"Because it's extortion. I can arrange to have you miked and get it all on tape-with your agreement, of course," he added.

Her response was a wryly amused smile and a glance at her grandfather.

"Fat lot of good that'll do you." Empty snorted. "Even if you're lucky enough to get him arrested, the old man's got just about every judge in the state in his back pocket. You'll just get one delay on top of another until one day, lo and behold, the tape comes up missing and you've got nothing but your word against his. In the meantime, he's coming at you from a half dozen other directions."

"That sounds like the voice of experience," Quint guessed.

The old man nodded. "I thought I had that old bull Rutledge by the horns when I got his foreman on tape making threats about what might happen if I didn't sell. All charges against him were dismissed for lack of evidence. Even the copy of the tape I'd put in a safety deposit box disappeared. And you can be damned sure I never put it in any of the banks Rutledge owns, but he still managed to get to it. Mind you, I can't prove he did. But I know in my gut it was his doing."

"It might be different this time," Quint said and looked directly at Dallas. "But it's up to you since you're the one who would have to get Boone on tape."

"It would he a waste of time." Her shoulders moved in a vague shrug of dismissal. "After what
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happened the last time, he'll be suspicous if I try to get him to talk about it again. And you can bet his father will warn him about the last time."

"I guess that settles it then." Quint pushed his chair back from the iahle and stood up. "I'll write you a check for two weeks' pay, Empty. You can take it with you when you leave."

"Now you just haul back on the reins there, son," Empty said with high indignation. "I don't recall handing in my notice." Quint smiled, touched by the gesture of loyalty, but it wasn't one he could accept. "The price to work here is a little too steep for you."

"That's for me to decide," the old man insisted.

"I think your granddaughter has a say in it, under the circumstances," Quint reminded him.

Empty never drew a breath. "If Dallas ends up getting fired, she will find herself another job.

She's a smart girl and a hard worker. We'll manage."

Quint shook his head and turned away. "I'll get your check."

Dallas spoke up. "If you think that by paying him off, it will mean I'll keep my job, you're wrong."

He halted and made a slow turn to face the pair, leery of misconstruing her statement. "Why would I be wrong?"

There was a slightly combative tilt to her chin. "I guess I never got around to mentioning that I told Boone what he could do with his offer and his threat. Then, just for good measure, before I came out here, I swung by the feed store and officially quit."

Quint stared at her in angry disbelief. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"How should I know!" She flung up her hands and rose to her feet in sudden agitation. "Maybe I knew I'd never persuade Empty to quit. Maybe there's more of my grandfather in me than I thought. Or maybe I was just tired of the Rutledges always bribing and bullying people into doing what they want. And maybe I didn't want to be another one of those people who gave in to them."

"There were other ways of handling Bootie's threat." Quint fought down the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. "You could just as easily have told him that you needed some time to think. You didn't have to fly off the handle and quit!"

"Maybe not, but whether you like it or not, it's done. And there's, no turning back from it now."

Head up and chin high, Dallas was all defiance.

"There certainly isn't," Quint muttered grimly, then challenged, "Just what do you propose to do next?"

Dallas had a ready and decisive answer for that. "You and I both know that the best thing would be for me to work here at the Cee Bar. Empty can tell you that I'm as good as any man at ranch work. And it's obvious you need somebody to keep house and fix your meals," she added, casting a disparaging glance at the empty soup bowls on the table. "You can't keep opening soup cans or slapping a piece of meat between two slices of bread and calling it lunch."

But Quint noticed that Dallas made no mention of wanting to keep an eye on her grandfather, something he suspected was the true motivation behind her proposal. In her shoes, he'd feel the same.

"You're right. There would be safety in numbers," he conceded.

"I'm glad you see that." She relaxed a little, satisfaction easing some of her tension.

"Divide and conquer, that's always been one of Rutledge's favorite methods." The old man leaned back in his chair and grinned. "It sure isn't going to work this time."

But Quint wasn't so easily convinced that this particular problem was solved. "Just how far do you think Rutledge is prepared to go to carry out his threat, Empty?" he asked, recalling his own run-in with the three men in the parking lot.

The rancher was quick to follow his train of thought. "You're thinking that Rutledge might try something to get back at Dallas and me for going against him."

"Would he?" On this, Quint had to rely to a certain extent on judgment and experiences with the Rutledges.

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" He'd almost have to try something just to make sure nobody around here got out of line." His expression turned thoughtlid as he ran through the possibilities in his mind. "I suppose he could trash our trailer or catch us on some lonely stretch of road and try to run us off. He might even have some of his boys pay us late-night visit. I can't see him doing anything more violent than that, though."

Quint hoped he was right. At the same time he didn't really want to take the chance that Empty was wrong.

"'Then let's make it harder for Rutledge to get to you," he said.

" Just how do you propose to do that?" Dallas wondered.

"This house has three bedrooms. The two of you can stay here." He was quick to note the way her lips parted in surprise, but no objection came from them. "At least that way you wouldn't have to worry about leaving your grandfather alone when you go to class at night."

"No. No, I wouldn't," Dallas agreed on a slightly self-conscious note.

"You have to admit, Dallas," Empty inserted, "as old as this house is, it's bound to be better than that drafty excuse for a trailer we're living in. And it'll be good to wake up in the morning and hear the lowing of the cattle again."

Her expression visibly softened, a warm and tender light shining in her eyes as she gazed at her grandfather. Quint felt a trace of envy for the depth of feeling visible in her look.

"Is that your decision then?" he asked, subconsciously seeking to reclaim her attention. "You're moving in?"

"There doesn't seem to be any doubt about that." A wryly indulgent smile curved her mouth.

"There isn't any place he'd rather live than on a ranch."

"In that case, let's not waste any more time," Quint stated. "Between your truck and mine, we should be able to get you packed and moved before nightfall."

"We still got that section of fence to finish," Empty reminded him.

"It's waited this long. It can wait till tomorrow when Dallas can give us a hand with it." Deep down inside, Quint knew he was looking forward to having her around all the time, but he wasn't ready to examine the reason behind it. "As soon as I get my truck unloaded, I'll be ready to go."

The move required two trips. The first load was mainly the few pieces of personal furniture contained in the small trailer. All but the gun cabinet and Empty's favorite recliner were stored in a corner of the barn and covered with a protective tarp.

By the time Quint and Empty returned for the second load, Dallas had all their clothing and personal items from both the bedrooms packed in a mix of suitcases and boxes and had started emptying the kitchen cabinets. Leaving Empty to help her, Quint carried the boxes and suitcases out to the truck, then joined them when the last was loaded.

As usual, the old rancher kept up a steady run of chatter, but Quint noticed that Dallas had little to say. Any remark from her was either an instruction or an answer to a direct question. Her entire manner was one of brisk efficiency.

Yet Quint couldn't help noticing that she rarely made eye contact with him. He had the impression that, while she might agree with the practicality of the move, she wasn't comfortable with the idea of living in such close quarters with him.

The more he thought about it, he realized uncomfortable wasn't the right word. She was wary.

Quint had only to remember how rough and angrily he'd kissed her to know that he had given her cause to be leery.

Twilight was purpling the hills when Quint carried the last of the boxes into the Cee Bar ranch house. Catching the sounds of boxes being moved around in the living room, he shoved his grocery laden container on to the kitchen

counter and headed for the livingroom.

Dallas stood among the stacks of boxes, busily sorting and seperating .The old man had already collapsed in his recliner, the look of exhaustion in his face.

"Which bedrooms do you want us to have?" Dallas asked as she picked up a box and kneed it
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higher in her arms.

" I've been using the one at the end of the hall," Quint told her. "There's one bedroom next to the bath and another across the hall from it. Both are about the same size."

"I'll take the one on the left and you can have the one on the right," she said to her grandfather.

"That's fine," he declared. "It doesn't matter much to me where I sleep."

She glanced at Quint and nodded at a suitcase lying atop a trio of boxes pushed together.

"Those are Empty's things. Would you wind carrying them into his room?"

"Be glad to."

As she started for the stack, Dallas turned toward the bedrooms. "Better watch your step in the hall," Quint warned. "The Iloor's uneven. It can throw you off balance if you don't expect it."

"It can't be any worse than the trailer," Dallas replied in unconcern.

"How long before we eat?" Empty called after her. "My belly's so empty, I swear it's rubbing against my backbone."

"As soon as I get this stuff cleared out of the living room, I'll tackle supper," Dallas promised and headed down the hallway.

Quint hauled Empty's things into the bedroom he would occupy, crossing paths with Dallas only once. He paused in the doorway long enough to tell her where the clean sheets were stored, then went outside to do the evening chores.

When he returned to the house, Dallas was in the kitchen, stocking the shelves with the grocery items from their trailer. Two pots simmered on the stove, filling the air with a spicy aroma , and the table was set for three.

Without pausing in her task, she informed him, "Supper will be ready in a few minutes."

"It smells good." He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up on a hook by the door, then slipped his hat onto the shelf above it.

"Spaghetti and meat sauce. It was the fastest thing to make," she explained in an offhand way.

"Fast is good. I think we're all hungry tonight." He went to the sink to wash up, conscious that she never paused in her task. "Are you finding where everything goes all right?"

"Right now I'm just putting things wherever there's room. I can organize it later." She shoved a sack of sugar onto a shelf and pushed a container of cornmeal beside it. "I think Empty's snoozing in his chair. When you get through, would you go wake him up and tell him it's time to eat?"

"Sure." But Quint couldn't shake the feeling she was subtly pushing him away.

It persisted throughout the evening meal. Dallas was never cold or rude, but the studied indifference in her voice and attitude had its own way of holding him at arm's length. Justified or not, it annoyed Quint.

His plate slicked clean, Empty Garner leaned back in his chair and patted his full stomach. "That was a tasty meal, Dallas. You done good."

"Thanks." Rising, she reached for his plate. "Want some coffee?"

"Naw. My chair's calling me. I think I'll go in and watch some television," he replied and laid both hands on the tabletop to push himself upright.

As he hobbled toward the living room, Dallas glanced briefly at Quint. "How about you?

Coffee?"

"No, thanks." Quint gathered up his own plate and silverware and carried them to the sink where he tightened the drain plug and turned on the hot water.

As he squeezed some dish soap into the water, Dallas arrived with the rest of the dirty dishes from the table. "Go watch TV with Empty. I can do these."