This Calder Range (Calder Saga 1)

“I’m ready,” she agreed, “but I need to stop at the store just for a moment and speak to your father.” During trail time, Clara Pearce didn’t like being on Fort Worth streets without a male escort, especially around the business section, where so many of the cowboys gathered. “It won’t take long,” she told Benteen.

“I can spare the time.” Politeness and a sense of duty dictated that he take the time whether he could spare it or not. Women needed the protection of a man. That was an accepted fact.

Outside the church, Benteen assisted Lorna’s mother into the rear seat of the buggy and helped Lorna into the front seat. Walking to the back, he stopped to tie his horse on behind, then climbed onto the seat with Lorna, taking up the gelding’s reins.

The streets were crowded with cowboys and drovers, as they always were at trail time. Few of them failed to notice the young, attractive female in the seat next to Benteen. He was aware of the kind of comments that were made, but he didn’t feel the need to defend her honor. No harm was intended, and most remarks were made out of Lorna’s hearing.

In front of Pearce’s Emporium, he stopped the buggy and handed the reins to Lorna while he assisted her mother. “We’ll wait here for you,” he said.

“I won’t be long,” she promised again.

Benteen moved back to stand next to the buggy seat on the side where Lorna sat. “Tomorrow is the big day. Do you think your mother will be ready?”

“I hope so.” Lorna permitted a small smile to show. “She’s been running around like this for days. You’d think she was the one getting married, instead of me.”

There was too much activity going on around him for Benteen to ignore it. Vigilance was an instinct born of experience. A man never completely relaxed his guard, so his eyes were always taking note of the faces and movements of those around him. He saw Judd Boston walking briskly down the sidewalk toward his bank before Boston saw him.

Despite his personal dislike of the man, Benteen admired Boston’s iron nerve. There wasn’t the slightest change in Boston’s expression when he spied Benteen standing beside the buggy. A lesser man would have ignored him or gone out of his way to pretend not to have seen him, but not Judd Boston. He brazenly altered his course to come over to speak to him.

“Good morning, Benteen. Miss Pearce.” He politely tipped his bowler hat to Lorna.

“Boston.” Benteen inclined his head briefly in the banker’s direction in silent acknowledgment of the greeting, a coolness in his eyes.

“I haven’t had an opportunity to offer you my sympathies for your father’s death, although I’m sure you’ll doubt my sincerity.” Boston immediately confronted Benteen with his own thoughts.

“Since you already know that, I don’t have to say anything.” Benteen didn’t pretend otherwise.

“I’m not surprised you feel that way,” Boston said. “After you returned, I did expect you to come by the bank for an explanation of the circumstances leading up to your father’s death.”

“Why? It was obvious. You foreclosed, my father died, and you confiscated all his property and cattle.”

“Perhaps I thought you would be more upset over that than you are,” Boston suggested.

“It was inevitable. I saw that even if my father didn’t,” he replied. “The deck was stacked against him, but he refused to see it.”

“I’m glad you are being sensible about this, Benteen.” He smiled, but it was the smug smile of a man who believed he was facing an inferior.

“No. I’m just smart enough to throw in my hand and ask for a new deck before I sit down again to play at the same table with a snake,” Benteen countered.

It rankled Boston, but only briefly. “I understand you’re driving a herd of your own north.”

“That’s right.”

“That’s quite a financial undertaking”—he paused to glance at Lorna—”especially when you have a new bride. I understand the wedding is tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“It’s a pity to leave such a beautiful bride so soon after the wedding,” Boston murmured, turning his flattering attention to Lorna.

Benteen felt his hackles rise. “Lorna will be coming on the drive with me,” he stated shortly. “We’ll be making our new home in the Montana Territory.”

“I heard rumors to that effect”—Boston eyed him with new interest—“but I didn’t take them seriously. You are actually leaving Texas for good?”

“There’s nothing left in Texas for me.” Benteen thought of his father. Seth Calder would turn over in his grave if Judd Boston believed a Calder was running from a fight. It was a family pride that made him speak. “You haven’t run me out, Boston. My decision was made before you moved against the Cee Bar. Understand that if our paths ever cross again. My father wouldn’t stoop to your level of underhanded dealing, but I will fight dirty.”

“Your hostility is unfounded, Benteen. I never had anything personal against you or your father,” Boston insisted calmly.

“I believe that,” Benteen replied. “He was just in the way of something you wanted. And I’m warning you to stay out of my way.”