Stands a Calder Man (Calder Saga 2)

“This river has never run dry before.” He turned his head to Nate. “And it’s like this the whole length?”

“Worse,” he grunted. “At least here you got puddles. Most stretches don’t even have mud in the bottom. The river in the north range still has a trickle running through it.” He wanted a cigarette bad, but there were too many piles of dry leaves around and too much dead grass. “What do you figure on doin’?” Nate’s question didn’t get an immediate answer. “I heard Ed Mace sold all his breeding stock so his range wouldn’t get overgrazed this winter.”

Webb shook his head to refuse that option. “It’s taken too long to build our herds and have the kind of quality breeding stock we’ve got now. I’m not selling.” It was an absolute decision. “We’ll throw all the herds onto the north range and hope for the best.” He turned away from the dried-up river. “Get a message to Doyle that we can’t spare any more water for the drylanders. The well at the barns went dry this morning.”

Nate said nothing and blew out a wearily grim breath that seemed to ask when the drought would end. By mutual assent, they climbed the bank and started toward the ranch buildings. Abe Garvey was hobbling as fast as he could toward them, puffing at the effort. He stopped and waved to hurry them.

“Hey, Webb! They sent me to fetch you. It’s your missus. It’s her time!” he called.

Webb broke into a run, excitement and anxiety claiming him at the same moment. “Send someone for the doctor,” he ordered hurriedly. Simon had been at the ranch only yesterday to deliver a son to Ruth.

“No need,” Abe puffed. “He was here, checking to see how Ruth and her baby were doin’. The doc’s up at The Homestead now.”

When Webb burst into their bedroom, the pain of the last contraction was just passing. Lilli was breathing deeply and roughly, beads of perspiration collecting on her forehead and above her lips. When she saw the worried look in his rugged and earthy features, she smiled at him, her own unease slipping away.

“You hadn’t better be having second thoughts about becoming a father,” she warned him as he took her hand and leaned close to the bed. “Because it’s too late for that.”

“No. No second thoughts.” A half-smile came onto his mouth, gentling it. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, and Webb bent down to kiss her.

“None of that.” Simon Bardolph interrupted the affectionate exchange and approached the bed. “Unless you plan on delivering this baby, I suggest you go downstairs and have yourself a drink, Webb.”

“Later.” He didn’t take his eyes off Lilli, her dark hair spilling over the pillow her head was resting on, its red sheen subdued.

“Now,” the doctor insisted and gestured toward the door. “Out. It’s going to be a while, so go pace the floor somewhere else. I don’t want you upsetting our little mother.”

Webb reluctantly gave in to that argument, kissed her again, and left the room to wait downstairs in the den. He tried to stay calm, but he kept hearing little noises upstairs, sounds of movement and muffled cries. They worked on his nerves like a file. The sun was making a blazing descent below the horizon before he heard the squawl of an infant. He took the steps two at a time and knocked impatiently at the closed door. Simon opened it with a wiggling bundle in his arms.

“Chase Calder, meet your father.” He passed the strapping baby boy into the crook of Webb’s arm.

“Lilli?”

“She’s fine.”

And Webb looked at his newborn son for the first time, all red and wrinkled, a wet mass of dark hair on his head, and a perfectly formed fist flailing the air near his mouth. In a kind of daze, Webb walked to the bed. He could feel the tears glistening in his eyes as he looked at Lilli. Her dark hair was clinging damply to the sides of her face. She looked exhausted, yet remarkably happy.

“The poor thing is as ugly as me.” Webb smiled.

“And he’ll be as handsome as you are, too,” she murmured, a little weakly.

Simon came to the bed, smiling at the three of them. “I think your son would like something to eat; then both of them need to rest.”

Webb laid the baby in Lilli’s arms and left the room reluctantly for the second time.

After adjusting the hood, Lilli tied it under her chin and glanced at Webb watching her so anxiously. Admittedly she was weak and sore, but certainly not the invalid that he considered her to be.

“I’m ready. Shall we go?” She pulled on her gloves, feeling as bundled up as little Chase was in Webb’s arms.

“I think you should stay here,” he said for the tenth time. “It’s too soon for you to be moving around. You should be in bed. It’s only been two days since the baby was born.”

“Webb, you’re making it sound as if I’m embarking on some hazardous journey,” she reproached him with a hint of amusement. “I’m not going any farther than Ruth’s house. I assure you I’m strong enough to walk that far.”

“But there’s no need. I can go.” The determined glint in her eye warned him that she had no intention of staying behind. Sighing his irritation, Webb put an arm around her waist and guided her to the front door.

As much as he could, he used his body to shield her and their son from the sharp wind blowing from the north. It swept the dry ground in front of them, brushing up dust clouds to sting their eyes and irritate their lungs.

Virg Haskell opened the door when they arrived at the Stanton house. Webb barely gave Lilli time to push back the hood of her cape before sitting her down in a chair. Little Chase whimpered in his arms, completely covered by the small baby quilt. Webb turned back the corner of the quilt and returned the sugar-tit to his son’s mouth to quiet him.