Everyone on the ranch was anxious for something to be done about it. But in typical Triple C fashion, there was the usual way to handle a problem—and there was the Calder way. And it was the Calder way they wanted to see, but the grumblings revealed a doubt that they would get it.
Truthfully Jessy was a little concerned as well. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of any action Chase and Ty could take.
Sandwiched between the two men during the walk to the den, Tara covertly studied them. She was struck again by the strong resemblance between them, both possessing the same granite chin and brow, the same impenetrable darkness of wide, deeply set eyes, and the same high, hard cheekbones. In Chase, age had chiseled extra lines in his face, and there was a sagging of the skin beneath the jawline, but neither made him any less formidable.
Tonight both men wore the same mask of polite indifference. As yet, she had detected no break in it, no hint of temper or impatience. She smiled to herself, recalling how her father had often complained that the Calders were as impossible to read as the Saudis. It was true. Although in the past, Ty hadn’t been as adept as his father. Therefore Tara watched him a little more closely. With few exceptions, she had always been able to manage him.
When they reached the den, Chase stepped aside, allowing her to precede him. But there was little about it that made her regard it as a gentleman’s courtesy. Which made her wonder if he was reluctant to present his back to her, a possibility she found most interesting. For herself, she had no such qualms, entering the room ahead of both men.
“Have a seat.” Chase motioned to the matching wing-backed chairs that faced the desk, and made his way to the big one behind it.
“Thank you.” Slipping the handbag off her shoulder, Tara sat down in the first chair and tucked her purse in the small space next to it, wanting to keep it within easy reach.
She was a bit surprised when Ty folded his long frame into the other chair. In the past, he had usually ranged about the stone fireplace. She was quick to note the break in his pattern, although it was difficult to tell what it signaled.
Tara searched but found no trace of tension in Ty. He appeared to be loose and relaxed, almost as though he were the one in control. But Tara knew better.
Hampered by his arthritis, Chase was slow, as usual, to get settled in the big leather chair. Tara didn’t attempt any small talk to fill the moment. For the time being she was content with the silence. Once she began her pitch, she wanted no interruptions. And, like Ty and Chase, she was aware that Sally would arrive at any moment with the coffee.
Her glance strayed briefly to the framed map behind Chase, depicting the immense scope of the Triple C Ranch and its boundaries, its paper yellowed with age. Tara was smugly aware that she had snatched a great big chunk out of it.
Footsteps in the hall signaled Sally’s approach. Tara took advantage of these last few seconds to mentally review her proposal, satisfying herself once again that there was no objection to it that she couldn’t reason away logically.
It was with eagerness that Tara observed Sally’s entrance into the den. She had anticipated this meeting for so long, and now it was almost here. It seemed to take interminable minutes for the coffee to be poured and the cups passed to each. At last Sally exited the room, leaving them alone.
Ignoring the steaming cup of coffee in front of him, Chase rocked back in his chair and folded his hands together. “Since this was your idea, why don’t you begin?”
“Of course.” Tara continued to balance her cup and saucer on her lap. “I hope both of you can appreciate how very, very awkward this is for me. In the last year, we have managed to reach a close friendship of sorts. It is something I value a great deal even though my recent purchase of Wolf Meadow might suggest otherwise to you.”
“What’s your point, Tara?” Ty’s voice was full of dry disinterest as he raised his cup, eyeing her over its rim.
“It’s simply to clarify that if I had it to do over again, I would go about it differently, without all the secrecy that makes it seem like such a betrayal of your friendship.”
Her voice and her expression held just the right note of sincerity, but Ty couldn’t shake the feeling that it was nothing more than lines delivered by a skilled actress.
“We all have our regrets,” he said. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“I know that,” Tara agreed easily. “But I hope you will give me a chance to convince you that they are more than just words to me.”
“How do you propose to accomplish that?” Chase laced his fingers together, a gesture that reinforced his challenging skepticism.
In answer, Tara set her cup and saucer on the desk, opened the large purse at her side, and extracted a slim folder. “With this, I hope.” Fluidly, she rose and placed it in front of him.
Ty wasn’t about to go for the bait. Like his father, he remained motionless. “What is it?” He wanted her to tell him.
Resuming her seat, Tara answered, “I took the liberty of having my attorney draft a lease for your review.”
If anything, her explanation hardened something inside Ty. “I take it you have changed your mind about building a second home there.”
“Actually I haven’t. In the lease you will see that a fifty-acre tract, on which it will sit, has been excluded. Out of roughly ten thousand acres, that is no more than a postage stamp.”
“The site is at windmill eleven, you said?” Chase arched a questioning glance at Ty.
“That’s right,” Ty replied then idly studied his hands. “The only water source in three miles, and some of the best hay ground in Wolf Meadow.”
“Quite honestly I wasn’t aware of that,” Tara admitted. “But we can incorporate some kind of language that would allow you access to both. After all, this is just a first draft, and I am determined to find a way to make this work for both of us. It’s the least I can do,” Tara added, her whole demeanor soft and
persuasive.