Ty felt a funny choking sensation in his throat and the sting of welling tears in his eyes. He didn’t understand what prompted this rush of emotion. He fought it down because he didn’t want his father to think he was a blubbering fool.
“I want to get to know you.” His voice was husky but steady. “That’s why I came all the way up here. I’d like to stay for a while?” There was a lilting inflection on the last, changing the statement to a question. Maybe it would be awkward for his father to have him around.
“I want you to stay.” It was a very definite response which left no room for doubt about whether Ty was wanted or not.
“Are you married? Do you have any more children?” Ty asked.
“If you had asked me when I walked into the restaurant tonight, I would have said I had no children. Now I respectfully decline to answer that question.” Wry amusement glinted in the brief glance he sent his son. “As to your first question—no, I have never married.”
“Are you still in love with my mother?” It seemed a logical question to Ty.
Chase breathed in, held it, then let it out. “I don’t think it’s fair to use the word ‘love’ to describe what was between Maggie and me. We were both lonely. We each had a physical need … a desire for something we could enjoy that—for once—would make no demands on us. If any feelings had started to grow, they were torn out by the roots by circumstances neither of us could control.” He looked at Ty. “I doubt if any of this makes sense to you.”
Ty was frowning. “Not a lot, no.”
“I didn’t think so.” His mouth quirked in a hard way. “Tell me about school,” he prompted, changing the subject, and listened quietly while Ty talked about his school, his friends, and his life in general.
In the distance, there was a very faint glow in the sky that grew steadily brighter as they approached it—the well-lit headquarters of the Triple C. When the main buildings came into sight, illuminated by yard lights, with a sprinkling of smaller lights shining from the windows of houses, Ty stared in vague bewilderment.
“Is this a town?”
“Almost.” Chase smiled faintly and made a wide turn with the car to stop in front of the porch steps of The Homestead. “This is the headquarters of the Triple C,” he said, switching off the engine and opening his door.
While Ty hauled his backpack out of the rear seat, Chase walked around the car to the porch steps.
Ty lagged behind to stare at the sprawling cluster of ranch buildings. Chase waited for him at the top of the porch steps. When Ty realized it, he hurried guiltily to catch up. Once the boy was level with him, Chase swung his gaze to the buildings that comprised the Triple C headquarters, aware that Ty was staring, too.
“Take a good look, son,” Chase advised. “It’s all going to be yours someday.” When he felt the quick glance, he turned his head to meet the look, pride gentling his brown eyes. His mouth twitched in a faint smile as he clamped a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “‘Course, you’ve got a lot to learn between now and then—a helluva lot to learn.”
Applying pressure to Ty’s shoulder, Chase turned him toward the front door and led the way into the house. The lights had been left on in the living room and entryway, but Chase could have found his way if it had been pitch-black. Not a stick of furniture had been changed since his childhood; some of it had been reupholstered, but it was old, solid furniture that would last for centuries with the right care. He noticed the way Ty looked around, taking everything in. Remembering the lone hamburger Ty had eaten, Chase realized it probably hadn’t satisfied a growing boy’s appetite. When he’d been Ty’s age, there had never been enough to eat.
“Hungry?” he questioned.
“Yeah, kinda,” Ty admitted a little self-consciously.
“I’ll see if I can’t rustle up a snack from the kitchen. Look around. Make yourself at home.” He left the boy free to explore the house on his own.
There was cold roast beef in the refrigerator. Chase sliced it and mounded a plate with sandwiches. There was half of a chocolate layer cake left, so he added it to the tray along with a couple glasses and a pitcher of milk. When he returned to the living room, Ty was just wandering into the den. He started to retreat, but Chase nodded for him to continue into the room.
“We’ll eat in there.” He carried the tray in and set it on the coffee table.
“Are those real horns?” Ty was studying the mounted set above the fireplace mantel.
With a strange feeling of déjà vu, Chase told him the story of Captain, the brindle steer, and the long cattle drive that had brought the first Calder to this land. Listening with rapt attention, Ty managed to devour the plateful of sandwiches and three glasses of milk, while Chase had only one. When Chase got up to show him the old map on the wall, Ty cut himself a wedge of cake.
“Where did my mother live?” Ty kept one hand cupped under the cake to catch the crumbs.
Chase pointed out the location of the Shamrock Ranch in relationship to the Triple C headquarters. “It sits here.”
“It’s a lot smaller than the Triple C, isn’t it?” he questioned.
“Yes.” Chase was reluctant to discuss the O’Rourkes, and the impression was transmitted to Ty in the shortness of his answer.
“Are there … bad feelings between you and Mom?”
“I doubt if she likes me very much,” Chase admitted.
“How do you feel?” Ty frowned at him anxiously, trapped somewhere in the middle.