Calder Born, Calder Bred (Calder Saga 4)

His head felt large and heavy, its weight more than his neck could support. Ty slumped lower to lean his head on the seat back. His hat was pushed farther forward, angling down over his eyes.

The headlight beams tracked the rough pavement ahead of the truck, illuminating the high grass and weeds that choked the shoulder. Everything else was blackness. Ty stared into the edges of the scrubby growth, but it rushed by too quickly for him to focus on it.

All night long he’d put on a jocular show of good humor to conceal his anger, but no

w the show was ending. His tongue tasted acrid. Things were supposed to be so fine and so right, but not even his parents were happy. A dull rage rammed through him when he thought about his father, always so damned honorable and preaching his damned code. Everyone was supposed to live by it but him.

Drunkenly Ty cranked the side window down and let the outside air rush into the cab, then slumped back against the seat. After the first sweet smell of freshness, it was the pressure of the wind driving against him that he felt, never letting up, never giving him a rest. He was tired of always facing it, never turning aside for an instant for fear it would be interpreted as a sign of weakness.

The pickup slowed and made the turn into the east portal of the ranch. His groggy mind was slow to react to what his eyes saw. They were well past the simple gate before Ty realized where they were.

“Pull over.” He had to make a couple of trys before he was able to sit more erectly in the seat. The truck’s rate of speed didn’t change. “I said pull over,” he repeated the order.

“I can’t stop in the middle of the road,” Jessy explained. “You’ll have to wait until there’s room on the shoulder so we can pull off.”

“I want you to pull over now!” He grabbed the wheel to turn it himself.

The truck swerved sharply for the ditch, the sudden motion throwing him away from the wheel. Jessy was able to wrench it back just in time, her heart catapulting into her throat before the headlights veered away from the yawning black hollow alongside the road. When he made a second grab for the steering wheel, she angrily shoved him away.

“You’re going to get us killed.” She was forced to slow the truck in order to keep control of it. “If you’re going to be sick, just hang your head out the window.”

“No. You stop this truck so I can get out.” Ty groped for the ignition keys.

“All right. All right!” She was furious at his foolish and dangerous behavior as she pushed her foot on the brake pedal and the pickup skidded to a halt. “There, it’s stopped.” He was already turning and awkwardly searching for the door handle. Jessy gripped the steering wheel with both hands, flexing them while she tried to control the anger that had come from being frightened. She watched him lurch out of the truck. “I should just leave you here,” she muttered. “The walk home just might sober you up.”

But her threat went unnoticed as Ty weaved into the darkness, stumbling down the ditch and making a couple of tries to climb out of it before he succeeded. Jessy kept an eye on his black silhouette as he melded with the dark night. At first, she thought he was seeking the privacy of the darkness to urinate. Then she saw him stop and look around in a lost way.

When he lurched forward to walk farther from the road, she started losing him from sight. Hurriedly, she climbed out of the pickup to follow him. As drunk as he was, there was no telling what kind of crazy notion he had. If he slipped or fell somewhere out there, she’d have hell’s own time trying to find him.

Thirty yards from the road, he stopped again, and Jessy paused, not far behind him. She’d left the truck lights on, their long beams shining out at right angles some distance behind her, but their light did her no good. She was surrounded by varying shades of blackness. The low, irregular line of hills in the distance thrust into the falling midnight sky, dusted with stars and lit with the silver horns of a new moon. Jessy was close enough to Ty that his dark shape was clearly outlined.

His arms were away from his sides, partially lifted in a supplicant gesture that was negated by the clenched fists of his hands. His stance was rigid, vaguely challenging, with his feet apart and his head thrown back.

“You’re a lonely, stinking land!” The hoarse cry of anger came from some anguished depths of him. “A dream. That’s what I thought I had.” His drunken laughter was an awful sound. “It’s been a nightmare from the start. You fool a man—make him see things that aren’t there. You let him think there’s just one more hill. You lead him on! You let him think it’ll get better!” His voice fell. “And it gets worse. You twist a man until he keeps settling for less each time.”

His legs slowly buckled under him as he sank to the ground, his head hanging in dejection. Jessy hesitated, moved by the gut-wrenching outpour of frustration and anger she’d witnessed. She knew that Ty hadn’t wanted anyone to hear him. She waited until she was sure his silence would be lasting, then slowly made her way to him. He was sitting back on his haunches, his shoulders slumped and his head down. When she touched his shoulder, he looked up with a dazed glance.

“Come on, Ty.” She was gentle with him as she bent down to help him to his feet. “I’ll take you home.”

“Do you know where it is?” he asked and struggled upright with her assistance. He draped an arm across the back of her shoulders while she kept a supporting arm around his middle and guided him toward the lights of the truck. A wide smile split his features; then he chuckled, amused by some thought. “I always wanted to be like him,” Ty announced as he glanced down at Jessy, not really sure who she was. “Did I ever tell you that?” The irony in his voice bothered her.

“No.” Jessy supposed he was talking about his father, but she didn’t really understand what it was all about.

When they reached the pickup, she opened the passenger door to help him inside. His foot made several passes at the running board before he finally managed to find it and haul himself into the cab with Jessy giving him a boost and shutting the door.

The effort seemed to expend all his energies. He was slumped in the corner when Jessy climbed into the driver’s side. The noise of the motor starting roused him briefly.

“Damn, but I’m tired,” he mumbled and settled his long body deeper in the corner between the seat and the door.

A quarter of a mile down the road, Jessy heard the deep sawing of his breath in sleep. She drove slowly over the rough patches in the ranch road so his sleep would be as undisturbed as possible. She attempted to convince herself that she was merely letting him sleep off some of his drunkenness before she got him home, but her earlier irritation with his besotted state had evolved into a tender concern. His dependence on her had stirred up those old dreams she’d had about him. They were still fresh. And if tonight he had let her down by not behaving in the manner of a strong, stalwart hero, he had shown himself to be human and therefore more reachable.

College hadn’t changed him as much as she’d thought. It was true that he talked better than most of the cowboys—when he was sober—but deep inside, Ty was the same lonely young man she had once idealized.

One light was gleaming from the windows of The Homestead when she stopped the truck in front of the steps to its long colonnaded porch. It laid an irregular pattern of light onto the wooden planked floor. As she switched off the engine, Jessy glanced at Ty, but the cessation of movement and noise had not altered the deep rhythm of his breathing.

She slid nearer to nudge him awake. But he didn’t stir under the prod of her hand. She gave his shoulder a little shake which produced a grunted protest.

“Wake up, Ty.” Jessy used firmer tactics, grabbing his shoulders and attempting to pull him out of his comfortable corner. “Come on. We’re home.”