Lone Calder Star (Calder Saga 9)

With her face bare of makeup, there was nothing to distract his gaze from its strong, pure lines. Rust-colored lashes outlined the unusual tan of her eyes and the rounded ridges of her cheekbones stood out cleanly. Her wide lips lay comfortably together, warmly curved and generous.

Her glance lifted to his face. “This is one day I’m glad to see end.”

“Tired?” Quint guessed.

“Tired and sore.” The admission brought the ghost of a smile to her lips. “Nothing that a long, hot shower won’t cure, though.”

“A shower has a definite appeal right now.” But it was the vision of her under its spray that lived in his mind. He leaned closer and braced a gloved hand on the rough post near her head. “It doesn’t seem like we’ve had a moment to call our own these last couple of days.”

A smile deepened the corners of her mouth. “Or if there was, we were too tired to care.”

Quint chuckled softly. “That, too. The worst should be over after today, though. With any luck, things will start getting back to normal.”

Dallas shook her head in mild skepticism and declared with amusement, “There hasn’t been anything normal about my life since that night you walked into the café.” And there was very little about it that she would have changed if she could; in fact, there was only one thing she would have done differently. The thought of it pushed at her. “Quint,” she began on a serious note.

The side door to the barn swung open and sunset’s rosy light flooded in. Then Empty’s bandy-legged frame was silhouetted. “The horse trough’s

full,” he announced. “Did you get the chickens fed?”

Straightening up from the post, Quint turned, angling toward Empty. “All done.”

“Then what are we standing around here for?” Empty wanted to know, frowning. “Let’s head to the house. What are we having for supper anyway?” He addressed the question to Dallas.

“I don’t know.” She released a heavy breath. “Spaghetti would be the quickest, I guess.”

“Tell you what,” Quint said, falling in step with her as she moved toward the door, “I’ll fix the spaghetti tonight and you can go take that long, hot shower you were talking about.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

But the plan went quickly awry. Within seconds after entering the house, the phone rang. The garage in Fort Worth called to inform Quint that the repairs were complete on the ranch pickup. Arrangements were made for Quint to go in the following afternoon, return the leased truck, and collect the repaired one.

The minute he hung up, the phone rang again. This time it was Jessy, and the conversation gave every indication of being a lengthy one. At which point, Dallas gave in to the inevitable and fixed the evening meal.

By the time the table was cleared, the dishes washed and put away, it was after nine o’clock when she finally found time for a shower. In no hurry, she stood beneath the spray letting the steam and pulsating jets loosen stiff, sore muscles and wash away the day’s tension.

When she emerged from the bathroom, clad in a terry robe, and absently toweling her wet hair, she felt refreshed and relaxed. She glanced in surprise at the darkened living room and the silent television.

The only light still on in the house came from the kitchen. Assuming Quint and her grandfather were in their rooms, Dallas went to turn off the kitchen lights.

When she came through the doorway, she saw Quint sitting at the desk. “I thought you and Empty had both gone to bed.” She crossed to the desk and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Her touch, as much as her comment, roused him. There was something distracted in the way Quint looked up, taking in the rumpled wetness of her hair and the robe she wore.

“How was the shower?” That slightly absent air remained when he caught hold of her hand and drew her down to sit crossways on his lap.

Dallas settled comfortably against him, liking the casual intimacy that came so easily between them. “The shower was wonderful.” She took advantage of the closeness to toy with the hair along the back of his neck. “I almost feel like a new person.”

“That’s good.”

Again Dallas sensed she didn’t have the whole of his attention even as his hand idly rubbed over her hip.

“What have you been working on?”

“Nothing really. Just going over some things.” His glance flicked to the papers on his desk, a troubled light entering his eyes.

But Dallas could tell that those “things” continued to claim the whole of his attention. “Is something wrong?”

A hint of a frown flickered over his features. “I don’t know about wrong, but definitely curious.” Quint nodded to the papers on the desk. “According to that, the number of cattle the vet examined these last two days is the same number Empty and I came up with in the tally we made close to three weeks ago. Yet…we have three dead cows.”