This Calder Sky (Calder Saga 3)

There was an indulgent curve to his mouth as he cupped his palm over her hipbone and applied pressure to sit her on the armrest of his chair. “You don’t obey orders very well,” he mocked and stubbed out his cigar. “I told you to go back to sleep.”

“Why didn’t you want me to find out about the stallion getting hanged? You weren’t going to tell me,” Maggie accused. “That’s why you ordered me to stay at the house this morning.”

“Is it wrong to want to spare you that unpleasantness?” His arm curved into a hook to pull her onto his lap. The hard flesh of his body was warm against her bare skin. His hands wandered over her ripe curves, deliberately attempting to distract her.

“You didn’t want to spare me—not as much as you wanted to keep me from finding out about it,” she guessed and sensed his hesitation. It increased her suspicions. “What else have you tried to spare me, Chase? I know about the replica of the noose, now the stallion. There’s been something else, hasn’t there? And you didn’t tell me.”

His finger absently traced a circle on her throat as his gaze darkened. For a moment, she thought he was going to continue to deny it. “A calf was found strangled almost two weeks ago,” he admitted. “Now, are you glad I told you?”

She had wanted to be wrong—she had hoped there had been no other incident like this morning’s. “No.” Her voice was husky with regret. “What are you going to do?”

“I have to stop him.” There was a grim impatience within his words, a reluctance to voice the answer.

“By ‘him,’ you mean my brother.” She said it stiffly.

“Yes, I mean your brother.” Chase didn’t hedge. His tone was firm and decisive. “So far his victims have been animals, but he’s sick. I’m not going to wait to find out what his next move will be. I won’t risk it.”

That part she wouldn’t argue with, since she understood the potential for danger, but that wasn’t the source of her uncertainty. She lifted her gaze to search his eyes. “How do you intend to stop him, Chase?” She knew the power he wielded. He had taken his father’s place.

He weighed her words, holding her look. “I’ll handle it my way, Maggie.” The slight emphasis excluded her from his action. Bending his head, he moved to nuzzle the lobe of her ear. “You’ll have to trust me.”

But she wouldn’t be distracted and cupped his face in her hands to hold it away. “No, Chase, that isn’t good enough. I’m not some dutiful Western wife who is willing to leave such matters to the menfolk. I’m not the kind to putter around the kitchen while you decide the important things without consulting me. If that’s what you wanted, you shouldn’t have married me. T

his problem involves me. I’m your wife and his sister. That gives me the right to know your plans. Don’t shut me out.”

“It isn’t my intention to shut you out.” He took the hand cupping his cheek and pressed a kiss into its palm. She ran her fingers lightly over his lips, tracing their masculine outline.

“He’s my brother, Chase. I know something has to be done, but I don’t want him hurt.” The ache of frustration surfaced. “Culley won’t listen to reason. I know. I’ve tried.”

He saw the memory that was in her eyes, the range justice his father had imposed to bring an end to the cattle-rustling. He kissed the gold band on her finger. “I would never do anything that might turn you against me. You have my word on that, Maggie.” But he wasn’t going to involve her in his plans for Culley. Chase knew her well enough to know she would insist on accompanying him, and he could not be sure her presence would not have an inhibiting effect. Men tended to be more reserved, restrained, when a woman was present, expressing themselves less freely.

A slow smile spread across his mouth. “Now that I’ve satisfied your mind on that score, let’s turn our attention to something else. Because it’s becoming very difficult to concentrate with a naked woman on my lap.” He bent his head to roll a rose-crested nipple in his mouth and felt it harden.

“But you haven’t told me what you intend to do,” she said in a vague protest as a response trembled through her.

“I intend”—his hand slid between her thighs—“to make love to you for the rest of my life.” Then his mouth was on hers, smothering her moan of pleasure.

The next morning, Chase shut the door to the den while he made his phone calls, then left The Homestead in search of Nate Moore. He found him at the commissary, gasing up his truck.

“I want you, Ike, and Slim to meet me at the north gate at two o’clock this afternoon.” His choice of men had been deliberate. All had accompanied his father when he’d paid a visit to the O’Rourke ranch.

“What’s up?” The shrewd pair of blue eyes showed he had already guessed.

“We’re going to return the rope to the person who left it around the buckskin’s neck,” Chase stated. “I don’t want word getting back to Maggie about where I am this afternoon, so keep it quiet.”

Uncertainty flickered in the old cowboy’s expression. “Chase, I stood by your pa, but—”

There was no warmth in the smile that curved his mouth. It was cold and grim. “I know what I’m doing, Nate. Are you coming with me?”

“Hell, I wet-nursed you since you were old enough to rope your first calf. Of course I’m coming with you.” Nate was offended that Chase would suggest he wasn’t going to back up his play. “I was just wondering what you had up your sleeve.”

“You’ll find out. Just don’t be surprised by anything I say.”

“You can count on me—on all of us,” Nate promised.

“I know.” Chase clamped a hand on the man’s shoulder, then moved away.

At lunch, Chase idly inquired about Maggie’s plans for the afternoon and suggested that she might want to explore the southern end of the ranch on horseback, maneuvering her away from the north side, where he would be meeting the men. Part of him knew it wasn’t fair to keep her ignorant of his plans, but it went against his grain to involve her in this. Chase saw it as his problem and his responsibility; therefore, he had to handle it. He couldn’t allow someone else to do it for him, let alone a woman, even if she was his wife.