Calder Born, Calder Bred (Calder Saga 4)

An hour later, he was on the telephone when he heard the bang of suitcases on the stairs. His attorney’s voice barely registered in his mind as Ty listened to the sounds of departure—the footsteps, the opening and closing of doors, car doors, and trunks, and the starting of a motor.

Suddenly, the front door opened and light footsteps entered the house. Just for a minute, Ty let himself admit how much he needed support and understanding from his wife at this crucial juncture. But it was his sister, Cathleen, who appeared in the doorway.

“Where’s Tara going? She didn’t say anything to me about leaving.” Cat had to wait for her explanation until he was off the phone.

With the passage of the first twenty-four hours, a tense waiting game began. Sooner or later, Dyson was going to make a move. For Ty, it was a matter of trying to anticipate when he would make it and what it would be, so he could be prepared to block it. Everyone on the ranch was put on the alert with orders to first report the presence of any outsider to headquarters, then escort the trespasser off Triple C range with whatever force was necessary. Ty shifted all the hands he could spare from their regular duties into the northeast district of the ranch. It involved a major reallocation of riders, which included Jessy being temporarily transferred to the lower east camp at Wolf Meadow.

Her route across the ranch had her traveling over a section of the main road leading east to Blue Moon. Dust plumed behind the pickup as she headed into the high-angling light of a morning sun. Her attention was on the road, watching for the south turnoff. She wouldn’t have noticed the hidden vehicle at all if the sunlight hadn’t hit its window just right and reflected a glare into her eyes.

Wincing at the painfully brilliant flash, she jerked her head to the side to avoid it. At the same moment, she became alert to her surroundings and slowed the truck to scan the rugged, rolling land to locate the cause of that sudden glare. Jessy was almost ready to decide it had been some broken glass along the roadside and her brief alarm had

been unnecessary when she spotted a four-wheel-drive vehicle. The squatty-nosed jeep was well hidden, back from the road in a wide coulee, its dark green color blending in with thick-growing chokecherry bushes.

With no hesitation, she shifted the pickup into low gear and turned off the road to bounce over the rough terrain to search for the driver. In the meantime, she reached for the mike of the citizens’-band radio and relayed the news of her discovery back to the base station at the headquarters. The trail turned out to be so simple to follow, it was almost laughable. Stakes with little red flags marched out in a row, leading Jessy directly to the surveying crew.

The rattling rumble of her truck bumping over the rough ground gave them ample warning of her approach, but they boldly remained in the open, the three of them grouped around the tripod-mounted trans. Jessy circled them to stop in their paths, then reached behind her to take the .30/.30 from its window rack before climbing out of the truck. The rifle was held loosely, the butt tucked under her armpit and the muzzle lowered at the ground. Thirty feet separated her from the men.

“You’re trespassing. Take your gear and get moving,” she ordered smoothly.

“We’re on government land. And we’re here doing a job.” The man in the khaki jacket made the response.

“You’re inside the Calder fenceline.” Jessy didn’t argue the rightful ownership of the land. “My orders are to escort any trespassers off Triple C range.” She shifted her hold on the rifle to bring the barrel level. “I’ll tell you again to get moving.”

Next came that instant of anger when a man’s been physically threatened by a woman. “I suggest you put that rifle up before you find yourself in trouble!” the surveyor retorted.

“You’re the one that’s in trouble, mister.” When he took an angry step toward her, Jessy cocked the rifle and squeezed off a shot that whined two feet above his head. He stopped short, cautiously trying to decide whether that had been purposely or accidentally close. “I’ve owned a rifle since I was twelve, and I’ve collected my share of bounty on coyote hides. Now, if you want to know whether a woman can shoot what she aims at, you just take another step.” This time she had the rifle butt by her shoulder. “Now get your stuff and start walking.”

There was hesitation as the three of them glanced at each other. Jessy swung the rifle barrel to the right, took aim on a red flag just beyond them, and felt the butt jump against her shoulder when she squeezed off a second shot. The whang of the bullet snapping off the head of the stake convinced them. When she put a third one at their feet, they were assured she meant business.

“You crazy woman,” the man in khaki muttered angrily as the other two hastily began assembling their equipment and picking up the sack of flagged stakes.

Already the roar of gunned motors had reached Jessy’s hearing. It was only a matter of minutes before three more pickup trucks manned by Triple C riders rolled onto the scene. There was an ample escort to usher the survey crew off the land.

When Jessy reached the main road, more Triple C personnel had converged on the spot, including Ty and Cathleen. While two of the pickups accompanied the surveyor’s Jeep to the east gate, the rest stayed to hold an impromptu meeting.

“At a guess, I’d say they were just feeling us out to see how we’d react.” Ty supposed their strategy was to find out just how strongly he intended to oppose them, if at all.

“Hey, Ty!” Tiny Yates shouted to him, one row of trucks back, standing beside the open door of his cab. “I just heard on the CB that they think Ruth Haskell had a heart attack. They’re rigging up the plane so they can fly her to the hospital.”

“Nanna Ruth!” Cat gasped the name of the woman who had been the nearest thing to a grandmother to her. Her green eyes were huge and liquid when she glanced at her brother.

30

In a grave next to the Calder family plot, they laid Ruth Haskell to rest and the Triple C turned out en masse to pay its final respects to the quiet woman who had been woven into the background of the Calders for so long.

When the graveside services were over, Jessy continued to stand in the shaft of hot sunlight, wearing the same blue dress she’d had on at Maggie Calder’s funeral. She remembered sitting with Ruth, remembered Ty’s visit to the house. Beyond the heads of the milling throng, she had a clear view of Ty pausing to have a few words with the minister. His arm was around Cat’s shoulders, silently comforting the pale and emotionally drained girl. Compassion welled tenderly in her breast for Cat, who had lost the two women she had been closest to, and in such a short span of time.

Moved by this pity for Ty’s sister, Jessy worked her way through the crowd to offer her condolences. She approached Ty for no other reason, although her eyes observed the tense, preoccupied lines that made his features appear hard and unforgiving. Rumor had it that Tara had left him because of this pending fight with her father. Since he had offered no explanations for her absence, no one asked. Although Jessy could understand the problem of divided loyalties, she still thought Tara was a fool for leaving Ty when he needed her, if that’s what she’d done. But Jessy didn’t seek to reestablish her relationship with Ty. That was in the past. He had made his choice and she accepted that.

There was a brief moment when she met his dark eyes; then she turned her attention to his sister. “I’m sorry, Cat,” she murmured. “It must seem that something bad happens to everyone you love. But it isn’t really that way. Life is just harsh sometimes. But that’s what makes the good times better.”

“I know.” Cat sniffed back the tears that were constantly trembling on the edge of her eyes and managed a small, tight smile. Her eyes made a long, slow swing over the crowd, then returned to her brother. “I really thought Tara would come to the funeral,” she said in a low voice that indicated how betrayed she felt.

His gaze flickered briefly to Jessy, the set of his jaw showing a hard pride. “I’m supposed to go after her. It’s another one of her games.” It was a half-muttered explanation, dry and emotionless.

“Then that’s what you’ll do.” Jessy said it very simply.

Her hazel eyes were equally direct in their regard as Ty looked at her. Finally he slowly nodded. “That’s what I’ll do,” he said.