Stands a Calder Man (Calder Saga 2)

There was a flicker of surprise in Webb’s eyes at the news she had sold the farm before he reasoned out it was sensible. She couldn’t have farmed it herself without hiring a man. He doubted if there was enough money for that, certainly not with this year’s poor crop.

“I must say, Webb, you’re being very neighborly, coming by like this and all,” Doyle said.

Webb didn’t try to keep his gaze from straying to Lilli. She looked so damned composed that it rankled him. Her eyes were a dark midnight blue, looking straight at him. Her lips lay together in an easy line. It was as if she were waiting for him to do something or say something.

He removed his hat, feeling awkward and not liking it. “I thought I’d come by and see if there was anything I could do.” It wasn’t what she wanted to hear and it wasn’t what he wanted to say. But with Doyle Pettit here, he was bound by conventions. So he prodded the man into going. “If you were leaving, Doyle, don’t let me keep you.”

Doyle sent a glance at the young widow, thinking she might want him to stay. There was something in the air that he couldn’t quite fathom. Her expression hadn’t changed. There continued to be nothing to indicate his presence was wanted.

“I do have some business in town,” he lied. “Remember what I said, Mrs. Reisner. If I can be of any help at all, please contact me.”

“Thank you again for coming out,” she repeated.

Webb caught up the reins of his horse and held them while Doyle cranked his automobile and got it running. While his attention was elsewhere, Lilli took the opportunity to study him. The few years hadn’t made any differences in his physical appearance except to add lines to the creases near his eyes and mouth. His flatly muscled body was long and male, and the wind ruffed hair that was thick and near black.

The changes were more subtle than that, the kind a woman w

ho loved him would notice. Before when he’d come to her, he’d been a cowboy—unique in many respects, but still a cowboy. Power and authority were resting on his wide shoulders now, and they sat there easily. Lilli sensed that many things were locked inside him, long controlled—perhaps too long controlled. He had come here to see her, but why? She wondered if Webb was even sure. Pride wrapped its invisible shield around her and kept him from observing that just seeing him again disturbed her.

The departing automobile churned up a choking cloud of dust in the barren yard. Lilli lifted an end of the shawl over her nose and mouth to keep the gritty dirt out of her mouth and lungs and closed her eyes to slits against the stinging dust. The wind picked it up and whirled it away before it had a chance to settle back on the ground. Webb’s horse swung around him, whickering nervously after the noisy vehicle.

It was a moment or two before Webb let the reins fall and came toward her again, slapping the dust from his hat. His gaze was on her, probing, searching for something—a reaction, a sign, an age-old signal between a man and a woman that was easily recognized and never defined. She stood a few feet in front of the door, watching him, not unfriendly, but not open to him, either. He half-waited for her to suggest they go inside, out of this dust and wind, but she remained silent. There was some kind of barrier between them, and Webb was undecided about how to penetrate it because he didn’t understand the cause.

“One of my men was hurt on the roundup. Simon—Dr. Bardolph—came out to fix him up, so I just found out from him this afternoon about Stefan.” He wanted to make it clear that he’d have come sooner if he had known. “I was sorry to hear about it.” No, dammit! He hadn’t been sorry. Why was he mouthing words of polite convention when there were so many other things he wanted to say? “I wish you had let me know,” It was the first honest thing he’d said. “It couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“I managed.” Her chin dipped briefly, then came up again. The boldness was there, but so was restraint.

He wasn’t handling this right, but he seemed to be on a course that couldn’t be altered. “You sold the farm.”

“Yes.” Her gaze ran around the dried-up buildings rattling in the endless wind, some distant memories stirring in her look. “I’ve sold everything—the horses and equipment. There wasn’t much point in keeping it.” Her attention came back to him. “Even if Stefan was alive, as dry as it’s been, I don’t think we could have made it through to next year.”

“What were you planning to do?” Webb unconsciously used the past tense, yet wanting to find out if she had included him at all in her future plans.

She faltered slightly under his steady regard, then held it once again. “After all the debts have been paid, I have enough money left to buy a small restaurant somewhere.”

“You were going to leave.” His jaw made a harsh line. “Weren’t you even going to come and tell me good-bye?” Webb challenged roughly.

The motion of her hand as it brushed aside strands of hair the wind blew across her face seemed to be a means of avoiding his eyes. “Times change. People change.” Lilli offered that as an answer. “It isn’t reasonable to expect people to have the same feelings after so much time has passed.”

Her reply stunned him, hitting him low as he read into it that she had changed. She turned in an unhurried and graceful motion and walked the few steps to the door. There she paused, her body at right angles to him, and looked at him across her shoulders.

“It was good of you to come by,” she said.

The shanty door creaked on its hinges as it swung inward. He was burned with a rawness that wouldn’t be dismissed as simply as she had just dismissed him. By the time Lilli had stepped inside and turned to close the door, Webb was filling the opening, a hand braced against the door to keep from being shut out.

“Is that all you can say—it was good of me to come?” When he pushed his way inside, she retreated a step, her eyes now intent on him, watching and waiting. “Why do you think I’m here?”

“I couldn’t possibly guess.” She was too afraid of being wrong. There were too many reasons that might have brought him here.

“Then explain to me what all that ‘times changing and people changing’ was about,” Webb demanded. “Say it out plain if you don’t want me anymore.” Something flickered in her eyes, and some of his confusion lifted. She was waiting for him to state his reason for coming, to declare his intention. He pushed the door shut and caught her shoulders all in the same motion. “I swear, Lilli, you’ve got a pride that can freeze a man out,” he muttered thickly and claimed her mouth in a quick, hungry kiss so there could be no more doubts about what he wanted.

The pressure of her lips unsettled him like none other could. Her hands rested lightly on his chest, not resisting, yet not inviting a closer embrace, either. Webb was puzzled by the way she kissed him and held back at the same time, not allowing herself to be swept away by the passion of her feelings.

“What is it, Lilli?” He lifted his head and spread his hand over the side of her face, tracing the outline of her warm lips with his thumb. Her lashes remained partially lowered.

“I wasn’t sure why you were here.” She still wasn’t. He could hear it in her voice.

His hand moved along her back, feeling the ripple of bones in her spine and the tension. “I’m here because I want you. I still love you. If there’s been any change, the feelings have only grown stronger.” There was a degree of tightness in the smiling curve of his mouth. “I was beginning to wonder if it was the same for you. Is it?”