This Calder Range (Calder Saga 1)

“He looks a lot like you.” There was a softness in the tough man’s eyes when he finally lifted his glance from the boy to Lorna. “What’s his name?”

“Arthur—after my father,” she added for no reason that she could explain.

“Why can’t I get in the carriage, Mommy?” Webb wanted to know.

“You can.” Bull slowly straightened and moved to the older boy. “I’ll lift you in.”

“But—” Lorna began.

“It’s all right,” he assured her again. “One of the bolts was sheared off the other day. I brought it in to have Dan repair it.”

A little frown ran across her forehead. “This carriage belongs to the Ten Bar?”

“No,” Bull laughed shortly. “Not even Judd Boston owns anything like this.”

“But I thought you just said you were working for them.” She was becoming confused.

“I did last winter,” he replied.

“Well, then, who does this carriage belong to?” Lorna moved closer to the vehicle, which automatically brought her nearer to Bull Giles.

“I hired out a couple weeks ago to a party of English gentry, acting as a guide and escort. It belongs to them,” he explained as his attention became riveted on her face. A small hand tugged on his pants leg, dragging his gaze downward to Arthur. “You want to sit in the carriage with your brother, don’t you?” Bull guessed, and Arthur nodded vigorously.

“English gentry,” Lorna repeated as he lifted Arthur into the carriage. “Do you mean they have titles?”

“Yes. Every time you say anything, you have to add ‘your lordship’ or ‘your ladyship.’” He seemed to express Benteen’s mocking derision of all the pomp that surrounded the European titled class.

It seemed impossible, yet Lorna couldn’t help wondering, “One of them wouldn’t happen to be Lady Crawford?” she asked.

His brow shot up in surprise. “How did you know that?” Then he appeared to doubt that they meant the same person. “She’s an older woman, with yellow-white hair.”

“That sounds like her.” Lorna couldn’t believe it. “I met her in Dodge City—the same day you and I had lunch. She was very kind. She even had her maid bring me some lotion to make my skin soft.” She absently ran a hand over her cheek in a gesture of remembrance of the gift. “And you say she’s a member of this party you’re escorting?”

“From what I can gather, she’s a chaperon or companion to one of the younger women who’s engaged to the duke,” he explained.

“I never did get a chance to personally thank her for the lotion.” Lorna sighed, then laughed softly at herself. “She probably doesn’t even remember it.”

“I’ll mention it to her,” Bull said.

“It’s hardly important.” But Lorna hoped he would.

“Mrs. Calder?” Woolie Willis

came around the carriage, leading the second horse of the team. “It’ll just take me a couple of minutes to hitch this horse up and we’ll be ready to go.”

“We’ll be there directly,” she promised. As he led the horse to their wagon, Lorna turned to her two sons, bouncing on the carriage seats. “That’s all, boys. We have to go now.”

“Not yet, Mommy.” Webb frowned and stubbornly moved out of her reach.

“Do as your mother tells you,” Bull ordered. “Come on. I’ll lift you out.”

Neither child was inclined to argue with the big stranger. Arthur was the first to come forward and let the large pair of hands pick him up. He squealed with delight when Bull lifted him high in the air before setting him on the ground.

“Do me like that,” Webb insisted when it was his turn to be lifted out.

Once Webb was set down, there was an immediate clamor from both boys for Bull to do it again. Lorna was afraid Bull might allow himself to be cajoled into a repeat, so she stepped in.

“No more,” she refused, taking each of them by the hand. “It’s getting late and we have to be back to the ranch in time to fix Daddy’s supper.” There were wrinkled noses and quiet grumbles, but no outright rebellion. “All the men at the ranch make such a fuss over them that they’ve become a little spoiled,” Lorna admitted to Bull.