Lone Calder Star (Calder Saga 9)

“Just how do you propose to do that?” Dallas wondered.

“This house has three bedrooms. The two of you can stay here.” He was quick to note the way her lips parted in surprise, but no objection came from them. “At least that way you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving your grandfather alone when you go to class at night.”

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” Dallas agreed on a slightly self-conscious note.

“You have to admit, Dallas,” Empty inserted, “as old as this house is, it’s bound to be better than that drafty excuse for a trailer we’re living in. And it’ll be good to wake up in the morning and hear the lowing of the cattle again.”

Her expression visibly softened, a warm and tender light shining in her eyes as she gazed at her grandfather. Quint felt a trace of envy for the depth of feeling visible in her look.

“Is that your decision then?” he asked, subconsciously seeking to reclaim her attention. “You’re moving in?”

“There doesn’t seem to be any doubt about that.” A wryly indulgent smile curved her mouth. “There isn’t any place he’d rather live than on a ranch.”

“In that case, let’s not waste any more time,” Quint stated. “Between your truck and mine, we should be able to get you packed and moved before nightfall.”

“We still got that section of fence to finish,” Empty reminded him.

“It’s waited this long. It can wait till tomorrow when Dallas can give us a hand with it.” Deep down inside, Quint knew he was looking forward to having her around all the time, but he wasn’t ready to examine the reason behind it. “As soon as I get my truck unloaded, I’ll be ready to go.”

The move required two trips. The first load was mainly the few pieces of personal furniture contained in the small trailer. All but the gun cabinet and Empty’s favorite recliner were stored in a corner of the barn and covered with a protective tarp.

By the time Quint and Empty returned for the second load, Dallas had all their clothing and personal items from both the bedrooms packed in a mix of suitcases and boxes and had started emptying the kitchen cabinets. Leaving Empty to help her, Quint carried the boxes and suitcases out to the truck, then joined them when the last was loaded.

As usual, the old rancher kept up a steady run of chatter, but Quint noticed that Dallas had little to say. Any remark from her was either an instruction or an answer to a direct question. Her entire manner was one of brisk efficiency.

Yet Quint couldn’t help noticing that she rarely made eye contact with him. He had the impression that, while she might agree with the practicality of the move, she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of living in such close quarters with him.

The more he thought about it, he realized uncomfortable wasn’t the right word. She was wary. Quint had only to remember how rough and angrily he’d kissed her to know that he had given her cause to be leery.

Twilight was purpling the hills when Quint carried the last of the boxes into the Cee Bar ranch house. Catching the sounds of boxes being moved around in the living room, he shoved his grocery-laden container onto the kitchen counter and headed for the living room.

Dallas stood among the stacks of boxes, busily sorting and separating. The old man had already collapsed in his recliner, the gray of exhaustion in his face.

“Which bedrooms do you want us to have?” Dallas asked as she picked up a box and kneed it higher in her arms.

“I’ve been using the one at the end of the hall,” Quint told her. “There’s one bedroom next to the bath and another across the hall from it. Both are about the same size.”

“I’ll take the one on the left and you can have the one on the right,” she said to her grandfather.

“That’s fine,” he declared. “It doesn’t matter much to me where I sleep.”

She glanced at Quint and nodded at a suitcase lying atop a trio of boxes pushed together. “Those are Empty’s things. Would you mind carrying them into his room?”

“Be glad to.”

As she started for the stack, Dallas turned toward the bedrooms. “Better watch your step in the hall,” Quint warned. “The floor’s uneven. It can throw you off balance if you don’t expect it.”

“It can’t be any worse than the trailer,” Dallas replied in unconcern.

“How long before we eat?” Empty called after her. “My belly’s so empty, I swear it’s rubbing against my backbone.”

“As soon as I get this stuff cleared out of the living room, I’ll tackle supper,” Dallas promised and headed down the hallway.

Quint hauled Empty’s things into the bedroom he would occupy, crossing paths with Dallas only once. He paused in the doorway long enough to tell her where the clean sheets were stored, then went outside to do the evening chores.

When he returned to the house, Dallas was in the kitchen, stocking the shelves with the grocery items from their trailer. Two pots simmered on the stove, filling the room with a spicy aroma, and the table was set for three.

Without pausing in her task, she informed him, “Supper will be ready in a few minutes.”