She recognized his voice the minute he started speaking again. The floor seemed to rock under her feet. There was that same gentle persuasive quality in it. She was thrown into confusion, and the drugging effect of the sleeping pill didn’t help her to sort through it quickly.
“I want him home … with me.” On that point, Maggie wasn’t confused. “Put Ty on the next plane home. I’ll pay the fare.”
“No.”
“Chase, I want my son.” Her voice trembled on a warning note.
“If you want him, you’ll have to come get him.”
“No.” She wouldn’t go back there. “Ty is a minor—a runaway. If you don’t send him back, I’ll notify the authorities and they’ll come get him and bring him home to me.”
“You’ve been away a long time, Maggie. I think you’ve forgotten how much territory this Calder sky covers. I am the authority here. If you want him, you’ll have to come yourself. You know where to find us.”
Chase hung up the receiver, fully aware he had lived up to her bad image of him, but this had to be sorted out. And he preferred to do it face to face. He leaned heavily back in his chair and stared at the phone, wondering how much she had changed in the last fifteen years. Was she still as beautiful as she had been as a young girl? Had she kept her figure? Or lost it carrying their son? Wearily, he rubbed his eyes.
By dawn the next morning, Chase had showered, shaved, and dressed. Before going downstairs, he stopped at Ty’s room and opened the door. The boy was sprawled across the bed on his stomach, his mouth lolling open. The newness of knowing he had a son continued to amaze and delight him.
He knocked loudly on the opened door. “Time to get up, Ty!” Chase watched the teen-ager push himself groggily up on his elbows and frown as he looked around, trying to remember where he was.
“What time is it?” Ty combed a sleepy hand through his hair, trying to shake himself awake.
&n
bsp; “Five o’clock.”
“In the morning!!” With a groan, he collapsed face down on the bed.
“We get up early around here.” Chase moved out of the doorway to the stairs. There weren’t any lights, either, to make a boy get out of bed. He had to learn to do it himself.
Ruth had just set his plate of steak, eggs, and hashed browns on the dining room table when a sleepy-eyed Ty stumbled into the room. Chase introduced them. Ruth made an embarrassing fuss over him, her eyes misting over with tears when she murmured that she wished Webb had lived to see his grandson. Then she hurried off to the kitchen, dabbing her eyes with the corner of her apron.
“What did my Mom say when you called her last night?” he asked when they were alone.
Chase deftly avoided making a direct answer. “She’ll be flying up today or tomorrow. It will depend on how soon she can get reservations.”
“She’ll want me to go back with her,” Ty said glumly.
“I’ll handle it.” Chase repeated the calm response he had made the night before.
When Ruth brought Ty his plate of steak, eggs, and hashed browns, he stared at it. “I don’t know if I can eat all that this early in the morning.”
Chase lifted a shoulder in an expressive shrug that said it was up to him, but he said, “It’s a long time until lunch.”
Ty was making a good dent in it when Buck walked in. Chase was finished and had leaned back to enjoy his third cup of coffee. He saw the puzzled look Buck gave the boy.
“Ty, I want you to meet Buck Haskell, one of my top foremen and a good friend.” He introduced Buck and watched Ty lay down his silverware to stand courteously to shake hands. “Buck, this is my son.”
“Your … what?” Buck shot him a look that was sharply incredulous. “But where … who …”
“Maggie is his mother.”
“Maggie O’Rourke?” At Chase’s nod, Buck dragged in a deep breath and blew it out. “Well, if that don’t beat all!” His face was oddly blank, a hint of exasperation in his voice. Then he was looking at Chase and grinning. “It seems a little foolish to say congratulations at this late date.”
Chapter XXVIII
It was nearly noon on the following day when Maggie arrived, driving a rented car. Since no one else knocked before entering The Homestead, Chase knew it was her before he opened the door. He met her cool, green eyes, then skimmed her slender figure, clad in a flattering black suit trimmed in white. Certain things he remembered about her, like her pride and strong will, were in evidence in her stiff carriage.
He glanced beyond her, his gaze settling on a ranch hand passing the house. “Charley, bring Mrs. Gordon’s luggage in from the car.”