Shifting Calder Wind (16 page)
Read Shifting Calder Wind Online
Authors: Janet Dailey
“Sorry, not this time,” Laredo replied. Although disappointed, Trey accepted his answer without protest. “What did you need?” he asked Jessy, a boyish openness to his expression.
“Laredo Smith, Monte Markham.” Jessy made the introduction without ceremony. “I thought the two of you should meet since the feedlot is your assignment,” she explained to Laredo.
“I guess that makes you the owner of this bunch.” Laredo flashed Monte a totally artless smile.
“Technically speaking, I only represent the owners,” Monte corrected.
“Brokered the deal for ’em, did ya?” Laredo observed and cast an assessing glance over the stock in the lot. He pushed the brim of his hat off his forehead, and said, “You’ll be turning a quick profit on this lot. They’re in good shape. I reckon they’ll fatten up easy.”
“There will be a profit as long as grain prices don’t rise.” But Monte showed no concern that they would. “Your name is Laredo. I expect you are from Texas?”
“Nope. I was born in New Mexico. Laredo is a handle I got stuck with a long time ago. I always figured it brightened up the Smith end of my name. It beats being called Smitty like my dad was, that’s for sure.” He paused a beat, then asked, “You ever been to Texas?”
“Texas, Arizona, Colorado, Wyoming—I have even been to your state of New Mexico to sample a bit of Santa Fe. Then I came to Montana and knew this big land under a big sky was the place for me.”
“Yup, it’s the kind of place that can give a man big ideas.” There was nothing in Laredo’s voice to suggest his observation was any more than an idle comment.
“I expect the first Calder would agree with you,” Monte replied.
“I’ll bet he would.” Laredo grinned. “I guess I’d better get back to my work.” He lifted his hat and set it back square on his head before gathering up the reins. “If you got any questions about these fellas, just look me up, Mr. Markham.”
“Thank you, I will,” Monte replied and watched him ride away. “Talkative chap, isn’t he?” he remarked to Jessy.
“No one has ever called Laredo a Silent Sam.” It seemed the safest reply to make considering that Jessy knew Laredo would be doing a lot more nosing around.
Morning’s dawn found Culley camped next to a rocky outcropping that provided both concealment and an unobstructed view of the Circle Six ranch yard. The kitchen light had come on about ten minutes ago. Culley figured it was likely Logan in there, making a pot of coffee.
Some mornings Logan had a cup first, and on others he went straight out to do the morning chores. Sometimes he left by the front door, and sometimes by the back. In Echohawk’s profession, routines could be a dangerous habit, and he was careful not to follow any.
Knowing this about the man, Culley settled back to wait. Within minutes the big draft horses in the corral nickered a greeting and trotted to the barn door. Cully hadn’t seen Logan cross the yard, which meant that he must have exited the house through the back door.
Most mornings Culley would have ridden down and given Logan a hand with the chores, but this wasn’t one of them. This morning he didn’t budge from his spot until Logan drove off in his patrol car nearly an hour later. Even then Culley didn’t ride directly to the house, but circled around to the rear, left his horse among some trees, and slipped quietly through the back door.
Cat was busy clearing the breakfast dishes from the table. Not at all surprised by his sudden appearance, she threw him a quick smile. “You just missed Logan. He left less than five minutes ago.”
“I heard him.” Culley lingered by the door, making a searching scan of the living room. “Isn’t Quint up yet?”
“He stayed up late last night so I decided to let him sleep in this morning.” She placed the dirty dishes in the sink and took a clean cup out of the cupboard. “Want some coffee?”
After a small hesitation, he nodded. “Sure.” He crossed to the counter and took the filled cup of coffee from her.
“I’ll bet you haven’t eaten this morning. How about some bacon and eggs?” Without waiting for an answer, Cat collected the items from the refrigerator and set about preparing them. Hovering close by, Culley watched in silence. “I haven’t seen much of you these last couple days.” Her sideways glance swept over him in idle curiosity. “What have you been up to?”
“Not much.”
But Cat noticed the way he avoided meeting her eyes. She turned the bacon in the skillet and stole another glance at him. Her uncle was a man who was never entirely comfortable within the confines of four walls, yet she had the impression that he was more on edge than usual.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked in a deliberately idle tone.
“Nope.”
Cat felt certain there was something on his mind, but she didn’t press the issue. He was a secretive man by nature, but she was the one person he trusted. Sooner or later he would tell her, but his approach to the subject was likely to be indirect.
“You been over to the Triple C lately?” he asked.
“No.” Everything inside her tightened up at the mere mention of the ranch. It was impossible for Cat to think of the ranch without thinking of her father. Everything about it reminded her of him.
“I didn’t figure you had,” Culley replied. “I guess it still hurts too much.”
“Every time I drive up to The Homestead, there is a part of me that still believes I’ll find Dad in the den sitting behind his desk. But here, I’m not reminded every single minute that he’s gone, not like Sally is.” Just talking about it brought all the pain back.
For a long minute, Culley said nothing, then he remarked, “Do you remember anything about a rancher from Texas by the name of Smith?”
“I don’t think so. Why?” She darted him a quick smile, grateful for the change of subject.
“No reason in particular.” His slim shoulders lifted in an indifferent shrug. “I heard Calder was supposed to be a friend of the family.”
“He could have been. But I don’t recall them.” She cracked an egg on the edge of the skillet and emptied it into the hot grease, then picked up the second egg. “That doesn’t mean anything, though. Dad knew a lot of people that I didn’t.”
“Jessy knows ’em.”
“Then the Smiths were probably somebody Dad met at a cattleman’s function. Ty and Jessy went to a lot of them with Dad.”
“I saw Jessy talkin’ to ’im at the funeral.”
“Did you?” Cat replied without any real interest.
“The next day she slipped off an’ met ’im at the old cemetery.”
“The old cemetery?” Cat frowned in confusion. “You mean where your parents are buried?”
“That one.” He nodded.
“Why would she meet him there?” She used the spatula to baste his eggs.
“Don’t know,” Culley replied.
“How curious,” Cat murmured and removed the bacon strips from the skillet, laying them on a paper towel to drain.
“They moved here.”
“Really.” A quick check confirmed that his eggs were done. She dished them up, retrieved the toast from the toaster, added the drained bacon and carried his plate to the table. “I guess they sold their place in Texas.”
“I reckon.” Culley pulled out a chair and sat down. “The old man must’a died. It’s just the mother and the son. He’s a man grown, though, about Jessy’s age.”
Cat poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and sat down at the table with him. “Where are they living? In Blue Moon?” It was only Culley’s interest in them that made Cat curious about a family she didn’t know.
“Nope. They’ve set up house in that old line shack up in the foothills.”
“You’re kidding,” she said in disbelief. “That old cabin has been empty for years.”
“Jessy paid ’im to fix it up,” Culley replied between bites of food.
“The family must have fallen on hard times,” Cat concluded, before her thoughts jumped to another track. “But if they needed a place to live, why would Jessy stick them way out there? The old Stanton place is empty, and so is the house at East camp. Good heavens, there isn’t even a road to that old shack. Although, I suppose she could have hired them to fix it up so it wouldn’t look like charity. They might have been too proud to accept otherwise. And goodness knows, the ranch doesn’t need extra hands at this time of year.”
“Well, the son’s on the Triple C payroll.”
“Naturally. You said Jessy hired him to fix the cabin.” Cat raised her cup to take a sip.
“Oh, he finished that.” Culley scooped the last bite of egg onto his fork. “Now he’s workin’ at the feedlot.”
“The feedlot?” Cat lowered her cup. “What is there for him to do at the lot? We haven’t fed cattle since—why, since Ty and Tara were still married.”
“He’s lookin’ after that English fella’s cows.”
“You mean Monte Markham? You must be mistaken.” Cat shook her head, convinced that Culley’s age was beginning to show.
“Nope. Saw the semis unloadin ’em with my own eyes two days ago. An’ it was Jessy herself who tole me she was leasin’ the lot to that Monte character, an’ he was going to pay her to look after ’em. It seemed peculiar to me. I can’t remember a time when a cow that didn’t carry the Triple C brand was allowed on the place. Now there’s a whole lot full of ’em. If Calder knew about it, he’d turn over in his grave.” He leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “Mighty good breakfast, Cat. But you always did know how to fix my eggs just the way I like ’em.”
Cat was too stunned by his previous statements for the compliment to register. She looked at him with dawning knowledge. “This is what you came here to tell me, isn’t it?”
Culley didn’t deny it. “That ranch is yours, too. Figured you ought’a know what’s goin’ on over there.”
“You’re right. Dad would never have agreed to it.” The longer she thought about it the more convinced Cat became.
“I figure somebody talked her into it.” He stood up and moved away from the table.
“Who?” The instant she asked the question, she guessed the answer. “The Smiths.”
“Could be,” he replied with a small restless movement of his narrow shoulders.
“Why, I wonder?” she murmured.
“Could be they got somethin’ to gain outa it.”
“But what?”
“I ain’t figured that out yet,” Culley admitted. “But it smells funny, don’t it?”
After giving it a moment of thought, Cat was forced to agree. “Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, it does.”
But Culley wasn’t there to hear her response. He had already slipped out the back door, only a faint
snick
of the latch marking his exit.
snick
of the latch marking his exit.
Chapter Ten
F
lies buzzed around him, drawn by the salty smell of sweat, while Laredo worked to tighten the water pipe’s connection and stop its slow leak. The ground at his feet was slick with mud, making for poor traction. Unable to tighten the connection another centimeter, he disengaged the wrench and straightened to watch for any telltale beading of moisture. Seeing none, he stowed the wrench in the tool chest, flipped it shut, and wiped the sweat from his face on his shirtsleeve.
lies buzzed around him, drawn by the salty smell of sweat, while Laredo worked to tighten the water pipe’s connection and stop its slow leak. The ground at his feet was slick with mud, making for poor traction. Unable to tighten the connection another centimeter, he disengaged the wrench and straightened to watch for any telltale beading of moisture. Seeing none, he stowed the wrench in the tool chest, flipped it shut, and wiped the sweat from his face on his shirtsleeve.
He idly threw a glance at the cattle in the lot. They were a contented bunch, their bellies full with their morning rations. The sun’s rays streamed over their backs, creating a mottle of highlights. But it was the interested lift and turn of their heads that caught Laredo’s attention.
When he looked beyond them, he noticed the fast-spreading boil of dust on the road, signaling the approach of a vehicle. Satisfied that it wasn’t some critter that might spook the herd, he checked the pipe connection one last time. It was still dry, so he walked over to the faucet. The day was young, but already he was hot and sweaty. Desiring nothing more than to cool off, Laredo gave the handle a turn, and a steady gush of water flowed from the tap. Pulling off his hat, he didn’t bother to look around when a vehicle crunched to a stop somewhere close by. A door slammed as he stuck his head under the water and let its coolness stream over him, then pulled away from it, shaking off the excess water.
He had a hand on the tap, ready to turn it off when he caught a movement in his side vision. Glancing toward it, he saw a petite brunette striding toward him with fire in her eyes. He knew at once who she was—Chase’s daughter, Cat.
“Exactly what do you think you are doing?” she demanded hotly.
A bit taken aback by the hostility emanating from her, Laredo was a split second slow with his answer. “Just cooling off, ma’am.”
“You’ve done it. Now turn that water off.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He didn’t bother to tell her that he was about to do that very thing. He simply gave the handle a turn. Metal squeaked against metal, cutting off the flow.
“I don’t have to ask who you are.” Green eyes raked him with a look of contempt and disgust. “You’re the new man Uncle Culley told me about. The one called Smith from Texas.”
“That’s right, ma’am. Laredo Smith.” Using his fingers he combed his wet hair into order and settled the hat back on his head. “And you are Chase’s daughter, Cathleen. I saw you at the funeral.”
But Cat didn’t warm to his smile. “Water is a precious commodity in this part of Montana, Mr. Smith. I don’t know what you do down in Texas, but up here we don’t waste it by letting it run on the ground.”
“Actually, ma’am, neither do we.”
Her hands snapped to her hips as she adopted a challenging stance. “Really? Then how do you explain all this mud?”
Laredo glanced at the tool chest, then decided against telling her about the leaky pipe he had just fixed. “Something tells me you didn’t drive all the way out here to lecture me about wasting water.” But it was possible she had come just to get a look at him. Laredo wished he knew what O’Rourke had told Cat about him.
She seemed momentarily thrown that he had offered no argument in his own defense. Recovering quickly, she fired back an answer. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t.” With that, she turned on her heel and started back to her truck.
“What was it you needed?”
She jerked open the driver’s door, glanced at the cattle in the lot, and threw a glare in his direction. “I have already seen what I wanted.”
The pickup’s engine roared to life almost before she had the door shut. An instant later she drove off, fast-spinning tires kicking up another dust cloud.
Amidst all the swirling dust, Laredo smelled trouble, but he wasn’t sure what form it would take. One thing was certain, though—Chase’s daughter didn’t seem to like him very much. That in itself didn’t worry him. But knowing she was married to a lawman made him a tad bit uneasy.
Pen in hand, Jessy scratched her signature across the bottom of the check, picked it up with its attached invoice, and passed them both to the Triple C’s bookkeeper, who hovered next to her chair. She remembered all the times in the past when Ty and Chase had complained about the seemingly endless stream of paperwork involved in running the ranch. It was a sentiment she totally echoed now.
When she caught the sound of Laura’s happy squeal coming from outside, Jessy looked up, welcoming even this momentary distraction. But she wasn’t exactly thrilled when she recognized the cause for her daughter’s excitement, although Tara had always made a habit of showing up unannounced.
“It looks like we have company,” she told the bookkeeper and laid the pen aside. “I’ll sign the rest of the checks later. You go ahead and take these.”
Leaving him to collect the stack of signed checks, Jessy rose from the desk and made her way to the entry hall. She arrived as Tara walked through the door, carrying Laura. Laura had both hands fastened on a brightly wrapped gift.
“Look, Mom. Aunt Tara got me something.” Laura’s dark brown eyes shone with pleasure.
“I hope you thanked her for it.”
“I gotta open it first,” Laura declared as Tara set her down. Immediately she dashed into the living room.
“I wish you wouldn’t bring her presents all the time.” Jessy didn’t attempt to hide her irritation. “You are spoiling her.”
“I know. That’s what aunts do.” There was a suggestion of taunt in the smile Tara flashed her before she followed Laura, moving with her usual gliding grace.
“Sit here, Aunt Tara.” Laura patted the sofa cushion next to her.
Obediently Tara sat down beside Laura while Jessy reluctantly joined them in the living room, her temper at a low simmer.
“Go ahead and open it, sweetie,” Tara urged while Jessy looked on from her post by the living room’s overstuffed armchair.
Eager fingers tore into the package, making short work of discarding its pretty bow and ribbon. Laura ripped off the bright paper to expose a slender white box. With barely contained excitement, she pried it open and pushed aside the tissue.
Deflated by what she saw, Laura turned her disappointment on Tara. “It’s panties.”
“Very, very fancy ones.” Tara picked up the top one, a silky looking pink-flowered pair with fussy lace edging. “You’re too old to still be wearing those plain old white ones.” She tipped her head closer to Laura’s blond curls in a confiding attitude. “We girls should always have beautiful underthings like this to wear.”
“Do you wear them?” Laura asked, still not sure how thrilled she was with the present.
Nodding that she did, Tara whispered, “Today I’m wearing ones that are mint green. See?” Delicately she pulled aside the collar of her blouse just enough to give Laura a glimpse of her bra strap, then took another item from the box. “And you have a little undershirt to match your panties, too.”
Laura’s mouth rounded in a little “o” as she began to embrace this new fashion idea. “I’m gonna put ’em on now.”
When she started to grab for them, Tara held them just out of her reach. “But you must remember that after you put them on, you must never show them to anyone. Pretty undies like these are a secret just between us girls.”
“I promise.” All in one motion, Laura took the underclothes from Tara, pushed the box off her lap, and scrambled off the couch.
“You forgot something, Laura,” Jessy prompted, to remind Laura of her manners.
After a brief hesitation, Laura swung back to Tara and flung her arms around her. “Thank you, Aunt Tara.”
“You are welcome, darling.” She kissed the child lightly on the cheek, then gave her a push toward the stairs. “Go put them on.”
Needing no second urging, Laura raced upstairs to change. Jessy waited until she was out of earshot, then let some of her temper boil over.
“I could throttle you for this, Tara,” she said, her voice thick with contained anger. “Every morning she argues with me over what she’s going to wear. Now I’ll have to fight with her over underclothes.”
“Laura has a natural sense of fashion, doesn’t she,” Tara remarked with a feline smile that seemed to take delight in Jessy’s anger.
“No more presents,” Jessy stated, determined to lay down the law. “You are not to bring Laura one more thing unless it’s her birthday or Christmas. If you do, I swear I will take it from her and burn it. I don’t care how big a fit she throws. Is that clear?”
“Don’t you think you are overreacting just a bit?” Tara chided ever so mockingly.
“Probably. But that seems to be the only way I can get my point across to you,” Jessy replied, gripped by a steely calm now. “If you should choose to ignore me and attempt to give Laura something behind my back, then understand that you have set foot on Triple C for the last time. And I hope you know that isn’t an idle threat.”
Tara’s lips thinned in a tight line of displeasure. “You would be just mean enough to do it even though you know it would break my heart not to see Ty’s children.”
“There are times when I have serious doubts whether you have a heart.” Remembering all the misery she had created for Ty, Jessy grew angry all over again.
As if sensing this was not the time to push Jessy, Tara rose from the couch. “But even you can’t question that Sally has one. And she is the real reason I’m here. The present was merely an afterthought. I never dreamed you would be this offended by me giving Laura something so trifling as matching underwear.”
“It wasn’t the underclothes; it was the fashion lessons that came with them.”
“You wish that she would wear jeans all the time and be a little tomboy, just like you probably were. If that were Laura’s nature, nothing I might say would influence her. But that isn’t the case, and that is what really galls you, isn’t it,” Tara stated with infuriating certainty.
Jessy wasn’t about to give Tara the opportunity to point out her lack of fashion knowledge. “What about Sally? You said she was the reason for your visit.”
Tara’s smug smile said she knew exactly why Jessy had changed the subject. “When I spoke to Cat yesterday, she mentioned that Sally seemed on the verge of collapse. Cat felt that Sally is finding it much too difficult to cope with being surrounded by constant reminders of Chase. Cat thought that Sally should go away for a while.”
“I agree, but Sally won’t hear of it.”
“I understand that better than anyone,” Tara said and let her gaze roam familiarly about the room. “It is impossible to be in this house without feeling their presence. There is pain in knowing they’re gone. At the same time, you feel oddly close to them here. And more than anything you want to feel close to them again.” She leveled her gaze once more at Jessy, a faint sparkle of challenge in her dark eyes. “Whatever else you might think about me, Jessy, I did love Ty very much.”
Jessy didn’t give an inch. “I’m sure you loved him as deeply as you can love someone other than yourself.”
For an instant she thought Tara was going to unleash her claws. “You have to believe that, don’t you,” Tara purred instead. “It makes it easier for you to justify stealing him from me.”
“You walked out on him,” Jessy reminded her. “You were the one who insisted that he choose between you and the Triple C. Only a fool issues an ultimatum like that to a Calder. Don’t blame me because you misjudged him.”
“I never said I didn’t make mistakes.”
“But you made one too many.”
“And you didn’t make any at all, did you?” Bitterness coated the challenge Tara hurled.
“I guess I always knew if Ty was the man I thought he was, sooner or later he would see beyond your blinding beauty.” Even now Jessy suspected that Tara’s interest in Laura was based mainly in a desire to steal something of Ty’s from her.
“You are always so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Tara all but spat the words.
“No,” Jessy replied calmly. “I was always sure of Ty.”
“How disgustingly noble you sound,” Tara murmured with contempt. “None of this has anything to do with Sally except in the most indirect way. And she is my main concern at the moment.”
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