This Calder Sky (Calder Saga 3)

m the fence while she started her bay up the slope.

Near the crest of the ridge, Angus O’Rourke sat silently on his horse, shadowed by a clump of pines. He had come back to see what was keeping Maggie and pulled up when he saw her approaching the fence, accompanied by none other than Chase Calder. His first thought was that she was being escorted off Calder land. And he’d been angry—but not angry enough to ride down and confront the man. His muttered abuse of the high-handed and arrogant ways of the Calders had been issued from afar.

But Maggie had kissed him … with the ease of a pair of lovers. The sight shook him all the way to the bone. She was just a little girl. He damned the Calders a thousand times over for corrupting innocent children. It was time he was having a talk with her, explain some of the facts of life to her. If only Mary Frances was here, he thought. She would handle it so much better—woman to woman. It was difficult for a man to put it in terms delicate enough for a young girl’s ear.

He watched her ride up the slope, unknowingly coming straight toward him. His horse whickered at its stablemate. The serene smile went from her expression when she saw him. She briefly checked her mount, then let it continue on.

The sharp look she gave him made Angus explain his presence. “I came back to look for you.” The ground became rocky, forcing her to bring her horse down to a walk the last couple of yards.

“Sure, Pa.”

Something in her attitude irritated him—a vague smugness, as if she knew a glorious secret that she wasn’t going to share. “How come the Calder boy was with you? Where’d you meet up with him?”

“At the river.” Her gaze never left the land breaking in front of her.

Her answer didn’t tell him anything, certainly not what was uppermost in his mind. “He kissed you.”

“Yes, he did.” She turned her head to give him a cool look.

Suspicion crowded into his mind. There was a swollen softness to her lips and a secretive aura about her. “What else did he do?”

She didn’t hold his gaze, but turned her head to stare straight ahead, her chin jutting forward at a defiant angle. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Reaching over, he grabbed the reins to stop her horse. “I’m your father and that makes it my business. Now I demand to know what happened.”

“Why?” she challenged, meeting his anger with an unshakable directness, temper flashing in her green eyes. “If something happened, what would you do, Pa? Would you even try to do anything about it? Or would you just walk around making empty threats to the air?”

“So help me, God, if he laid a hand on you, I’ll—”

“Yes? What will you do?” She taunted him openly. “Tell me, Pa.”

Angus swallowed his rage, needing to know first if he was being goaded without cause. “I want to know if he … did anything to you.” He stumbled over the words, his voice low and trembling.

Maggie watched the red flush come and go in his face. Her own defensive anger faded at his uncomfortable attempt to ask a question. It was probably harder for fathers to deal with their daughters’ sexuality, she supposed. She discovered some pity, an emotion she thought her father had already used up, for the pathetic figure wanting so desperately to uphold her honor and not possessing the guts to carry it through.

“Yes, Pa, he made love to me,” she sighed tiredly. It never occurred to Maggie to lie.

There was a long moment of silence while he turned his head from her, his eyes blinking furiously. “These damned Calders!” he cursed in a vibrating voice. “They always gotta have it all.”

“Oh, Pa, can’t you just once put the blame where it belongs?” she demanded in weary exasperation. “If it’s anybody’s fault, it’s mine. It was what I wanted. I could have stopped Chase, but I didn’t want to.”

He shook his head, denying that. “A man will always have his way with a woman. Calder deserves the whip for forcing himself on you.”

“Pa, you’re not listening to me.” Her protest seemed hopeless. Why did he always have to twist things to put the blame on others? In a flash of wisdom, Maggie realized that her father couldn’t accept the truth that she had been a willing participant, because to him, it would mean that he had somehow failed as a parent. Her father couldn’t accept personal failure. It always had to be caused by someone bigger, stronger, or more powerful. The Calders acted as a natural scapegoat for all his problems.

“Don’t worry, girl. No one is going to ruin my daughter and get away with it.” There was a malevolent gleam in his eye. Here was another reason to hate the Calders—a reason any man, any father, could understand.

But all Maggie saw was how much he loved the role of the martyr. She didn’t. She slapped the horse with her reins, sending it bounding forward.

Chapter V

Leaving Maggie, Chase put his spurs to the blood bay and raced it in a flat-out run. There was going to be hell to pay for keeping his father waiting. The fact that he’d forgotten all about it until a couple of minutes ago said something for his total absorption with Maggie.

Horse and rider splashed across the river’s ford at a gallop, and up the sloping bank to the other side. With a rounding turn, they headed for the east gate. A bellowed shout behind him rang above the thunder of his horse’s racing hooves. Chase looked back to see Nate Moore waving at him and reluctantly pulled his horse to a plunging, sliding halt. The blood bay danced under him, blowing and snorting while Chase waited for the foreman to catch up with him.

“I’ve searched half the river for you. Where the hell have you been?” The ramrod glowered his displeasure at being kept away from the herd on a fool’s errand.

“Sorry.” Chase offered no explanation.