Stands a Calder Man (Calder Saga 2)

There was a stirring of activity down the way, the creaking of saddle leather and the jangle of metal bits and bridle chains that indicated riders were mounting up. As Webb turned automatically to look, he recognized Hobie Evans and two more Snake M riders reining their horses away from the wagons.

“Looks like Hobie’s a sore loser,” Abe Garvey remarked. “He sure was hopin’ your play would work the other way. He had a bunch of the guys worked up to teach them homesteaders to be more friendly. But your move left him high and dry.”

“He never was too successful with the ladies,” Shorty concluded. “They aren’t rough enough for him. ‘Course, with an ugly mug like that, what woman would want him?” He laughed the question and passed the bottle to Abe.

“You got a point.” Abe watched the trio of riders heading the horses up the main street of town at a shuffling trot. “Looks like they’re goin’ to Sonny’s.”

“One thing you gotta say about Hobie, that fella can hold his liquor,” Shorty admired and glanced at Abe as he released a loud, satisfied sigh of approval for the throat-clearing swallow of whiskey. “What d’ya say? Shall we go back and try our luck with Yellow Braids and her pa?”

Webb stuck a hand in the side pocket of his denim Levi pants and pulled out a coin. “I’ll buy the rest of the bottle from you, Shorty.” He flipped the coin toward the cowboy, who caught it with a quick, one-handed stab.

“Aren’t you coming?” Shorty hesitated, giving him a puzzled look.

“No, I think I’ll just stay here and drink for a while,” Webb took the bottle by the neck and eased his long frame onto the ground, propping his back against a wagon wheel.

Shorty studied him a se

cond longer, then shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

As Shorty and Abe ambled off, Nate lingered to roll a smoke, but Webb gave no indication that he wanted company. Nate lit the cigarette and squinted at Webb through the smoke.

“I guess you know the only thing you’ll find in that bottle is a helluva hangover, so I’ll just see you later,” Nate said in parting and went wandering back through the wagons after his other two friends. “Women,” he said to himself. “Ain’t nothin’ can tie a man into a tighter knot.”

Alone with only the sounds of tail-swishing horses stamping at flies, Webb stared at the uncorked bottle. The dance in progress was just a distant hum. He took another long swig from the bottle and leaned his head back against the cradle of the wheel spokes. A high, blue sky was above him, but there were shadows all around him. There were shadows in his heart and mind as well, black ones, directing his desires down a bad path.

Hobie Evans rode in the middle, his mount a step or two ahead of the flanking horses. Passing the roadhouse saloon, they trotted out of town to the west. Hobie was slouched loosely in the saddle, his sullen gaze contemplating the land ahead of them.

“Never thought I’d see the day when a Calder would toady to a bunch of egg-sucking farmers.” Ace Rafferty broke the silence.

“Never should have let the first one of ’em throw up a shanty,” Hobie countered roughly, then swung a gleaming, malevolent look at his compatriots. “You ever been inside one of their huts?”

“No.” But both showed a sudden interest at the question, guessing he had something in mind.

“There’s a honyocker that’s got himself a place just a couple three miles from here. Wanta go check the place out?” Hobie grinned.

All three men lifted their horses out of a trot into ground-covering lopes, heading for the settler’s shanty up the way.

“It is growing late, Lillian.” Stefan took her by the arm as he cast a glance at the sun hanging above the horizon. “The sun vill be down in another hour. Ve should be leaving.”

“So soon?” she murmured in protest, but smiled a reluctant agreement. “I suppose we must,” she conceded. There was a lull in the music as the band took a well-earned break.

“Alvays you vomen enjoy the dancing, but tomorrow it is vork again,” he reminded her. Then he remarked, “You never said if you enjoyed your dance vith that Calder man.” They started toward their wagon.

“I enjoyed it, the same as I enjoyed the polka with Mr. Anderson,” she replied, although the experiences had been vastly different. “I was proud of you today, Stefan. You were just as much a fine gentleman as Webb Calder.”

“Ya?” He seemed to question her observation, but she noticed that he held his head a little higher.

Strangely, she didn’t find any satisfaction in the knowledge that she had reassured him. Her blue eyes were clouded by the troubled thoughts in her mind, brought on by the slow discovery that Stefan had asked the question out of jealousy. It was obvious that Webb Calder was younger and stronger, more handsome in the hard way this land had of growing men. She hoped it was merely the jealousy an older man had toward one younger. Stefan was very dear to her. Lilli didn’t want him to know a part of her was drawn to Webb Calder. She was certain it was natural to like someone who was more attractive and closer to her own age, but it didn’t mean she thought any less of Stefan, although she doubted that he would understand the innocence of the attraction.

Someone called to them before they had passed the first row of wagons around the dance floor. Both stopped to turn and look behind them.

“It is Franz Kreuger.” Stefan identified the man threading his way through the milling group of homesteaders toward them.

“I’m sure he wishes to speak to you.” Lilli had the feeling that their neighbor didn’t like her very much, although he had certainly never indicated it in any overt way. “I’ll go on to the wagon and wait for you there.”

Stefan nodded agreement and started back to meet his friend. Lilli lingered a moment to watch them. In truth, she didn’t like Franz Kreuger very much, either. Maybe he had guessed that. He struck her as being arrogant and intolerant toward anyone who didn’t share his views. He knew it all and pressed his biased opinions on everyone around him. Lilli suspected Franz Kreuger’s distrust of those who had more than he did, like the ranchers especially, was really a mask for jealousy. Of course, Stefan would disagree, but he had been influenced by his neighbor’s stronger personality.

Sighing, Lilli turned and began strolling toward their wagon. In places, the wagons were three deep. They had arrived at the dance area late, so theirs was parked in one of the outer rows. It was already evening, but the summer sun was still up and the air was warm. The band was starting to play again, but the music drifted away from her on a dying breeze.