Calder Born, Calder Bred (Calder Saga 4)

“My son . . ."he murmured thickly.

“Your family is in the waiting room outside surgery, Mr. Calder,” a woman’s voice assured him, but it seemed to come from far away.

There was something he’d meant to tell him. It was important, but he had trouble remembering what it was. “Tèll him...” It was almost there. He strained, fighting the cloudy softness that drifted around him. “... mineral rights.” He remembered, but his voice was very low and slurred. “... get mineral ri. . .”

“What did he say?” A surgical aide glanced at his partner to see if she had understood.

“Something about minerals.” She shook her head. “Some of the patients come up with the craziest things.”

26

It was late in the afternoon when Ty arrived at The Homestead from his third trip to the hospital in slightly over a week’s time. He was tired, well aware there was a backlog of paperwork waiting for him in the study.

Thra was at the door to greet him when he walked in. “Welcome home.” She kissed him lightly. “How is your father doing after his surgery? You gave him my love, I hope.”

“Yes, and he’s doing fine, recovering nicely, so far.” Then he glanced about the living room. “Has E.J. arrived? I explained to Dad that you didn’t come with me because your father was flying in.”

“He and Stricklin arrived shortly after lunch. They’re over at the mine this afternoon.” She paused, eyeing him critically. “You look tired.”

“I am.” He headed for the study, hoping to get some of that paperwork knocked out before Dyson and Stricklin returned.

“You shouldn’t have made the trip to the hospital so soon after the last one. Both of us were there for his surgery. We even stayed until the next day,” Tara reminded him.

“I thought it was necessary,” Ty stated and didn’t explain his reasons. When he entered the study, he saw a middle-aged woman in a navy-blue dress and white apron polishing the liquor cabinet. Tara came alongside him as he stopped abruptly. “Who are you?”

“Ty, I want you to meet Mrs. Thornton. She’s keeping house for us,” Tara explained.

An eyebrow shot up as he frowned. “Since when?”

“Since I hired her . . . and an excellent cook named Simone Rae. You’ll have an opportunity to sample her culinary skill at dinner this evening.” She seemed almost totally indifferent to his chagrined surprise at the news.

“How do you do, Mr. Calder.” The new housekeeper respectfully inclined her head in his direction.

“Mrs. Thornton.” He kept a tight control on his displeasure. “You can finish the cleaning in here another time.”

“Of course, sir,” she murmured and quietly withdrew from the room.

“What’s the meaning of this?” He turned on Tara when they were alone.

“I told you I needed extra help,” she reminded him with a small laugh of confusion.

“And when you told me that, I thought you meant you were going to hire a local girl here on the ranch.”

“Ty, you know we need properly trained staff,” she insisted. “And Doug Stevens and his party will be arriving next week. After all the time he spent in France, I couldn’t serve him poorly prepared meals. I had to find a decent cook.”

“Dammit, Tara,” he muttered impatiently, turning his head aside, then slicing her an accusing look. “You know I’ve been trying to trim expenses everywhere I could.”

“You simply can’t entertain cheaply.”

“Unless you don’t entertain at all!” he countered with more than a trace of anger.

Her dark eyes fairly snapped. “If you would spend more time with our guests instead of traipsing all over this godforsaken ranch—”

“I don’t have time to entertain your guests!” Ty interrupted. “I’m trying to run this ranch and find money enough to pay to feed all

these people who keep arriving—at your invitation.”

“I ask them here so you can meet them and get to know them.” She was struggling not to lose her temper. “If you want to get ahead, it’s not what you know—it’s who you know. Surely you can’t be so blinded by all this sun and sky that you can’t see that. Someday these people might be useful to you.”