Stands a Calder Man (Calder Saga 2)

A feeling of depression began to weigh on her as Lilli realized this conversation had accomplished nothing beyond assuring her that Webb was well. Everything else remained the same.

Somewhat leadenly, she suggested, “I think it would be best if you didn’t mention that I asked about him, Mrs. Calder.”

“I understand.” She nodded.

“Good day.” Her glance skipped to both women as she took her leave and moved away.

This chance meeting with the young woman had answered many questions that had been in Lorna Calder’s mind. She absently stared after the tall, straight back and the sheen of dark copper hair swept atop her head.

“How strange,” Lorna murmured, then realized she’d said it aloud. Consequently the remark required an explanation. “In some ways, she reminds me of your mother, Ruth,” Lorna Calder continued to study the woman named Lilli, so young and so proud. “She has the same strong spirit and boldness, the same determination. I think it’s those qualities more than her looks that attracted Webb.” She glanced at Ruth to see what she thought. Ruth was not adept at masking her feelings. The wounded hurt she saw in Ruth’s expression made Lorna immediately regret so thoughtlessly listing the woman’s attributes. “How silly of me,” Lorna chided herself. “I don’t know a thing I’m talking about. She probably isn’t like that at all. Now, which lace did you say you preferred?”

Throughout the summer’s hot days, Webb found himself more and more involved in the operation of the ranch. While much of the final authority remained with his father, Webb had the responsibility of seeing that the orders were carried out. It was a full-time job, taking his every waking minute, but he needed and welcomed this occupation that demanded all his time and energy.

Late on an August evening, Webb arrived at The Homestead well after the dinner hour. Tired and dusty after a day at one of the outcamps, he waved aside his mother’s offer to fix him something to eat and made his own foray into the kitchen, coming back with some cold beef layered between two slices of homemade bread. He took it to the den where his father was finishing up some paperwork and plopped on the leather sofa, stretching out his legs a

nd hooking a spurred heel across his other boot.

“The hay’s up in the south branch.” Webb took a bite of the bread and meat and chewed at it tiredly.

“It’s time to be getting geared up for the fall roundup. I got a list of supplies here the cookie will be needing.” Benteen Calder set the piece of paper to the front of his desk for Webb with only a brief glance in his direction.

“I’ll send a couple of the boys into town after it.” Webb didn’t rouse himself from his comfortable position to fetch the list, letting it lie on the desk for the time being.

“How long has it been since you were in town?” His father leaned back in his chair, studying him with a prodding look.

“A while, I guess.” Webb shrugged and bit into the sandwich. Town was a place he had more or less been avoiding—town and the chance of seeing Lilli. He had needed this time to pass.

“It’s time you went and found out firsthand what’s happening in the area,” his father stated in a decisive tone. “You get the supplies.”

“It isn’t necessary.” Webb ignored the trace of command in the reply. “Besides, the boys have put in a hard summer. They deserve a day in town.”

“Take them with you.” Impatience flickered across his expression as Benteen Calder pushed out of his chair and came around the desk. “I’m making my own guesses about why you don’t want to go into town. But I’ll bet there are a bunch of drylanders that have come up with a different reason why you’ve made yourself scarce. Chances are they’re going to think you’re too scared. They figure they’ve got a hold on you. Do they?” he challenged.

“No.” It was a hard, flat answer.

“Then you’d better prove it to them,” Benteen advised. “And take Ruth along with you. She would welcome a trip into town.”

“Why?” A dark frown creased his brow.

“Because you’re not going to town hunting trouble. With a woman along, they’ll see that,” he reasoned calmly. “You aren’t going to be hunting trouble, are you?”

“I won’t back away from it if it comes to me,” Webb replied.

“You wouldn’t be a Calder if you did.” His father turned and walked back to his desk.

The minute the buggy and its accompanying band of riders left the boundary of the Triple C land to make the ride into town, Webb was confronted by the changes less than one year had brought. Where once there had been pockets of dryland farms, now there were pockets of cattle range. Assorted shacks and shanties sat on both sides of the road at almost regular intervals. Long bands of wheat alternated with strips of plowed and fallow ground. Those stark and barren stretches of exposed earth created a grim picture of the land’s unprotected underbelly. Webb acknowledged the sobering fact that the number of new settlers to the area hadn’t tapered off. It had tripled or more.

When they rode into the bustling town of Blue Moon, Webb had the uncomfortable feeling this was just the beginning. Last year there had been a mere shower of drylanders. They were in the middle of a deluge now. Blue Moon’s single business street was busting at the seams, threatening to burst into a second. A half-dozen or more automobiles were competing with horse-drawn wagons for everything from open spaces in front of stores to water from the trough.

As they dismounted in front of the hardware store, Webb noticed Franz Kreuger among the knot of men on the raised board sidewalk outside the building. He hadn’t noticed the Reisner wagon anywhere on the street, but he felt a leap of anticipation just the same. If his neighbor was in town, it was likely Stefan Reisner was, too—which also meant Lilli. It did no good to remind himself that nothing would be gained from seeing her.

Franz Kreuger had watched them ride up, and his eyes darkened with a brooding resentment. “Do you see how these ranch men never come to town alone?” He addressed the remark to his fellow homesteaders. “They know that our numbers are greater than theirs. So why do we make such small complaints when their cattle get into our fields and damage our crops? We must be more ready to defend what is ours. My neighbor, Stefan Reisner, stood up to them. Right was on his side and there was nothing they could do about it. We must be prepared to do as he did, or the harassment will continue.”

Kreuger made no effort to keep his voice down. Pieces of his remarks drifted to Webb as he helped Ruth out of the buggy, enough for him to get the gist of it. It was becoming apparent that Kreuger was a troublemaker, the instigator of much of the ill will between the factions.

When Webb approached the homesteaders with Ruth on his arm, his gaze was directed at Kreuger. He touched a finger to his hat in a challenging salute. “Hello, Kreuger. Gentlemen.” His greeting was curt, but silence might have indicated he was intimidated. There was no response from Kreuger, not even a nod, but Webb hadn’t expected one.

Inside the store, he was checking out a new spool of barbed wire the clerk was touting to be the best on the market when he happened to glance out the front window just as the Reisner wagon passed by. Webb had a brief glimpse of Lilli sitting very erectly on the wagon seat; then she was gone from his view. The urge was strong to leave the store and go after her, just for a closer look, but he fought it down. Yet knowing she was in town tested his self-imposed stricture to stay away from her.