Calder Born, Calder Bred (Calder Saga 4)

“Another thing you need from a business partner is his time,” Ty said. “I’ve got my hands full with the ranch.”

“Problems?” Dyson made the inquiry rather than have Ty think his daughter had dropped some hints to him.

“A few.”

“Yes, I understand the cattle business is in a slump right now.” He nodded with a show of understanding. “And the flow from the wells at Broken Butte has dropped off considerably, so that income won’t be taking up the slack anymore.”

“Unfortunately,” Ty agreed and took a sip of the brandy.

“You have another ready source of income available to you—coal.” Dyson saw the protest coming and held up a hand to stop it. “I know all about your father’s feelings on the subject of mining coal, especially on Calder land. Believe me, I’ve heard it all before, and not just from him.” He laughed to show how little attention he paid to such talk. “The same things were said by ranchers in Texas when they first started drilling wells. They were certain it was somehow going to ruin their land or interfere with the grazing of their cattle. And the fishermen screamed that offshore rigs would drive away the fish. I could go on and on. But every time their fears proved to be groundless. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

“You’ve made a very good point,” Ty agreed. “However, the same can’t be said for strip-mining. You only have to look at some of the places in the East to see what it’s done to the land.”

“In the past, yes. But you know how strict the regulations are now. You’ll have to come over to the Stockman place and see our reclamation project. By next year, you won’t know that land was ever disturbed,” he insisted. “This is certainly the time to be getting into the coal business, too, with all these energy programs that are requiring the big power plants to convert to coal as their fuel. The demand is going to be high, and the price will go right along with it.”

“I have no doubt there is money to be made from it.” Neither did he dispute the other claims Dyson had made about the stricter regulations on strip-mining and the advanced techniques in reclaiming the soil. He was not the skeptic his father was.

“The partnership I have in mind is a joint venture to mine the coal on that ten-thousand-acre parcel of land. I can easily obtain the mineral rights to it through my company.” Dyson didn’t tell him that his request had already gone through government channels and the approval was virtually guaranteed by his contacts. “Because your father feels justified in his claim that the title to that land is rightfully his, I couldn’t, in good conscience, begin mining the coal under that parcel unless there was some arrangement between us to share in the profits.”

“I appreciate the sentiment—” Ty began with a faint negative movement of his head.

“I’m not asking you for an answer right now,” Dyson insisted before the offer could be rejected. “I’d like you to think on it. It’s going to put you in direct opposition to your father’s wishes if you agree, and I’m aware of that. I’ve said it before—your father is of the old school. He’s slow to accept change, unwilling to accept new ideas and new directions. But this country is going to need the coal under this ground. Someone is going to mine it; it’s inevitable. But your father simply doesn’t want to admit it.”

“I know.” He studied the brandy in his glass, feeling the conflict between a logical and an emotional point of view.

“Enough talk about business.” Dyson settled into his chair, confident about how smoothly the discussion had gone. “What do you think of the new senator who won Bulfert’s old job?”

A half-moon had begun its ascent into the night sky, changing from gold to silver. A splatter of stars dotted the blue-black canopy, as if some giant hand had taken a handful of diamonds and hurled them into the air to scatter and sparkle. In the quiet, the wail of a coyote was a homeless sound amidst all this emptiness.

The main lights of the headquarters were behind them as the pair wandered as far as the road heading east from the ranch buildings. Cat stopped to let her gaze stray over the blackness of the ground where it met the distant horizon. A stiff breeze blew her dark hair into her face. She shook her head to toss it away and turned into the night wind.

“It’s a good thing there’s a strong breeze tonight,” she murmured to her silent companion. The moonlight silvered his blond hair, the color already making a graceful transition from gold to silver-gold and concealing his age. His features remained smooth of lines, an

d his trimly muscled physique still gave him the look of a younger man.

“Yes, it makes it seem much cooler,” he said.

“I wasn’t thinking of that.” Cat laughed softly. “It keeps all the flies and mosquitoes from having such a feast on us. Sometimes they get so thick, I swear, they could eat you up.”

“They can be a terrible nuisance,” he agreed.

“Look.” She pointed at the sky. “There goes an airplane. See that red light moving across the sky?”

“Yes.” He watched it for a minute. “Tell me, did they ever learn what caused your father’s plane crash? The last I heard, it was some sort of engine failure.”

“A broken oil line.” Her tone was subdued as she lowered her chin, the subject stealing some of her pleasure in the evening walk.

“Does anyone know what caused it?” Stricklin continued to study her profile.

She shook her head, glancing at him briefly. “It just happened, I guess.”

There was a slight pause; then Cat studied him curiously. “With all the flying you do, doesn’t it bother you that something might go wrong with your plane?”

He held her look for a long second, probing into her green eyes. “No,” he said finally. “I’ve never given it much thought.” He reached in a side pocket and withdrew a small knife.

Cat watched with amusement as he ran the blade under the ends of his nails. “Why do you spend so much time cleaning your fingernails?” At least this time the knife was clean, she thought to herself.

Stricklin briefly appeared startled by her question, then shrugged. “It’s a habit, I guess.” He looked off into the night. “Are you still seeing that young cowboy?”