“To me, maybe. What’s the problem?”
“I wouldn’t call it a problem, really. It’s just that I’ve decided I’m not going back to college this fall.” The announcement was made with a large measure of calmness and certainty.
Worried that he might say the wrong thing, Culley stopped to think this thing through, searching his mind for the right response. In his heart, he was glad that Cat would not be leaving. But Maggie had set great store on a college education. It was something she would have wanted for her daughter. On the other hand, if Cat didn’t want to go, would Maggie have made her?
“What did your father have to say about it?” he asked finally.
“I haven’t told him yet.”
“You don’t figure he’s going to like the idea, do you?” Culley guessed.
“That may turn out to be an understatement,” Cat replied with a casual wryness.
That settled the issue in Culley’s mind; if Chase Calder would oppose her decision, he was for it. The fact that it was what Cat wanted to do only added weight to his reasoning, tipping the scales.
“It’s your life. You got to live it as you see fit,” Culley stated, hearing his words and liking the sense they made. “You’re a grown woman. It ain’t his place to be telling you what to do anymore. You can tell him I said so. And if he gives you any trouble, you have him talk to me.”
The underlying thread of fierceness in his voice moved Cat. She turned to him with a look of affection. “I love you, Uncle Culley.”
He reddened and ducked his head, embarrassed by her simple declaration. “Guess you’ll be sticking around here, then,” he remarked needlessly, self-conscious and struggling to cover it.
“This is my home.” The quiet conviction in her voice had a steely quality.
Her gaze lifted to travel over the wide, rolling plains, cloaked in their summer-tan colors beneath a big, brassy sky. It was a strong land, in some ways a hard land, its vastness stretching the eye farther and farther. Every bit of it, close to six hundred square miles, was Calder range. Born and raised on it, she knew this land in all its tempers—the harsh savagery of its winter blizzards and the warmth of its chinook winds, the awesome violence of its spring thunderstorms and the lush green of its new grass. It was a land and a heritage that she had thought she would share with Repp. But that wasn’t to be now. The thought of him was
like a pain squeezing her heart again, making it ache.
“If I have to live the rest of my life alone, then I’ll do it here.” Her head came up when she said that, pride asserting itself, making it less a statement of loneliness and more one of resolve.
Culley knew she was remembering Repp again. He wanted to say something to assure her that things would get better, but he didn’t know the words. In the end he decided it was best to get her thinking about something else.
“Do you want me to be there when you tell Calder you aren’t going back to college?” he asked.
“Thanks, but I’ll handle it.” Cat glanced at the sun, gauging the hour by its position in the sky. “It’s time I was heading back.”
“I’ll ride with you part of the way.” He reined the bay horse to the left, pointing it toward the headquarters of the Triple C, Cat’s home.
Cat made her announcement at dinner that evening after coffee was served. As expected, her decision was lot greeted with approval. To her father’s credit, he reacted to the news with commendable restraint. It was Ty who erupted. “Good God, Cat, you only have a year left. It’s idiotic to quit now.”
“Some may think that, but I don’t.” Cat toyed with her coffee cup, conscious of her father’s cool gaze.
“I know these last couple months have been difficult for you,” her father began smoothly. “But before you make any hasty decisions, I think we should discuss this.”
“There is nothing to discuss,” Cat replied. “I have already sent a letter to the dean of admissions, informing her that I won’t be returning for classes his fall.”
“Without talking to me first?” It was that, more than her decision, that raised his eyebrow. “I think you could have told me about this before you mailed he letter.”
“Maybe I should have,” she conceded. “But it is my life and my decision to make.”
“Cat, you know how much your mother wanted you to have a college education,” he reminded her.
“Yes, I do.” She was stung by the implication that she was somehow being disloyal to her mother’s memory. “But it was never what I wanted.”
“Of all the selfish—” Ty hurled his napkin on the table.
“I am not selfish!” Cat came out of her chair. “All my life I have done what somebody else wanted me to do. I was never given a choice about boarding school; I was sent. Out of high school, I was told not to get married, but to go to college first. I didn’t even get to choose what university to attend. Before I knew it, I was enrolled in your alma mater.” She flung a hand in Ty’s direction, giving full rein to her temper. “And heaven forbid that I get married while I’m still in college. I was told that was unthinkable. And being a good little girl, I did what I was told. Well, not any more.”
There was an instant of stunned silence in the room. Only Jessy showed no surprise at the vitriol that laced her outburst. The glimmer of approval in her eyes told Cat that she had at least one ally present.