“No, not really,” Jessy said with a small shake of her head. “Why?”
“Just curious. I heard Dad telling him that he’d spoken to his father the other day, but I don’t remember anyone named Rogers.”
“Chase has dealt with so many people over the years that you can’t expect to know them all. Some of them were bound to be before our time.” Jessy shrugged it off as unimportant.
“True,” Cat conceded and let the subject drop. Yet it wasn’t as easy to block out the memory of that baritone voice. Its warm timbre lingered at the edge of her mind.
“Something smells delicious.” Laredo sniffed the air. “You’ve been doing some baking while we were gone.”
“A lot of it. And it’s all for Thanksgiving. No sampling before,” Cat warned.
“You do have coffee made, I hope,” Laredo said, using the inflection of his voice to make it a question.
“Always. In fact”—Cat hesitated, a thought forming—“I think I’ll see if Dad would like a cup. You two go help yourselves.” As they headed for the kitchen, Cat retraced her steps to the den, rapped lightly on the door, then pushed it open and poked her head inside.
Chase looked up with a frown and cupped his hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “What is it?”
“Just checking to see if you’d like a cup of coffee.”
“No, but I damned well would appreciate some privacy.”
Stung by his abrupt response, Cat murmured a cool, “Fine.” And closed the door, muttering under her breath, “You old bear.”
Chapter 3
A platter of succulent turkey, roasted to perfection, made its way around the Thanksgiving table, with each spearing a thick slice for their plate—except for Jake, who claimed the drumstick. The yeasty aroma of freshly baked dinner rolls mingled with the sharp fragrance of sage dressing and the sweeter smell of candied sweet potatoes.
Soon every plate was crowded with helpings from the green bean casserole, mashed potatoes and gravy, and tart red cranberry sauce. Only Chase and Jake restricted their portions to a small sampling of everything.
Conversation during the first few bites centered around the food being consumed. Only after the edge was taken off their hunger did the table talk swing around to the usual topic of the ranch.
Trey began it. “I keep thinking about this idea of yours, Mom, to bulldoze Tara’s place at Wolf Meadows—”
Before he could finish his comment, Chase interrupted. “I think it’s the best damned suggestion for the place that I’ve heard.”
“I don’t disagree with it,” Trey qualified. “But it’s going to take some organization to accomplish.”
&
nbsp; “Only until the house is leveled,” Chase reasoned. “Then we’re through with the place for good.”
“True, but in the meantime, we’ll need to contact various auction houses and decide which one we want to use. Naturally the contents will have to be itemized, maybe even photographed.” He sent a quick glance at Sloan. “That’s something you could handle.”
“Be glad to,” she agreed. “And I also have contacts at a couple auction houses. I could call them if you want.”
“I, for one, would be grateful for any help you can give us,” Jessy stated. “Ranching, I know. But this—well, it’s out of my line.”
“Which reminds me,” Sloan said. “We’ll need to choose a charity or charities that will benefit from the auction proceeds.”
“That won’t be all that hard,” Trey said. “It’s the logistics of the whole thing that I keep thinking about. You do realize everything in that house has to be crated up and hauled out of there, don’t you?”
“You’ve just identified your first priority,” Chase told him. “Putting in a road to it.”
Trey answered with an agreeing nod. “We’ll start on it tomorrow. I think we’ve got an old culvert at South Branch. I’ll have it brought here to headquarters. Meanwhile Mike and I can put our heads together and figure out the best route to bridge that last mile.”
“Once that road’s in, one of the first things I want you to do is dig up those graves. It’s time Buck and his father came home,” Chase stated.
His announcement brought a moment of silence to the table. Cat broke it. “Are you sure that’s what you want, Dad?”