“I wanted to talk to you, sir.” Ty faltered because he didn’t know what to call him.
“What about?”
He glanced nervously at the older man sitting at the table with his father and the other customers in the restaurant. “It’s personal business, sir.”
“In that case”—he ran a lazy, considering glance over him—“why don’t we leave this discussion until later? I wouldn’t want to ruin my enjoyment of this steak with business talk. I believe you have some food waiting, too.” He gestured with the point of his knife.
Ty glanced behind him to see the waitress setting his hamburger and milk at his table. “We’ll talk after we’ve eaten.” He reconfirmed and his father nodded.
His gaze narrowed thoughtfully as he watched the tall boy return to his table. Well educated, good clothes, fairly well composed, although he had been nervous about something. Chase began cutting into his steak again.
“What ‘personal’ business do you suppose he has?” Lew wondered aloud.
Chase let his glance stray from the steak to the boy. “Probably wants a job. Hitchhiked out here to learn to be a cowboy.” It seemed obvious. “We’re always having some fresh-faced kid apply for a job. Half the time he’s never seen a horse in his life.”
Forking a bite of steak into his mouth, he began chewing the flavorful, well-done beef. A rancher just didn’t have time to train every eager greenhorn who came long. It took too much time, energy, and patience.
Chapter XXVII
Chase finished his meal, had another cheroot with his coffee, and kept an absent eye on the boy. He was sitting slump-shouldered, a little dejected, and refused dessert. Chase watched him carefully count out the money to pay for his meal and noticed only loose change was returned to his pocket. He had already pegged the boy as a runaway, too young to be out on his own, now obviously out of money. He liked the boy’s patience; he didn’t attempt to resume their “discussion” until Chase indicated that he was ready. The best thing he could do for the kid would be to send him back home.
“You’ll have to excuse me, Lew.” Chase pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. “I have to attend to some business.” He reached for his hat and set it on the back of his head. He passed the boy’s table as he walked to the cash register. Behind him there was a hurried scrape of a chair leg. An instant later the boy was beside him, almost as tall as he was. When Sally had counted out the change he had coming, Chase asked, “Is it all right if we use your office, Sally, for a private talk?”
“Go ahead. It isn’t locked.” Her gaze ran curiously between them, but she didn’t ask any questions.
Her office was the old poker room. Chase led the boy through the door marked PRIVATE and wandered to the uncluttered desk, leaning one hip on it and hooking a knee over the corner. The boy stared at him so intently that Chase wondered if there were crumbs on his face.
“What is this personal matter?”
Ty swallowed hard, all his nervousness returning. There wasn’t any easy way to say it, so he just blurted it out. “I’m your son.” He waited for the expression to change to surprise, confusion, or angry denial, but it didn’t.
“I think you’ve made a mistake,” Chase said calmly. “I don’t have a son.”
“You didn’t know you had a son,” Ty corrected him. “My mother never told you about me.”
“What’s your mother’s name?”
“Elizabeth.”
“I don’t know any woman by that name.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a narrow cigar, lighting it. “If this is some kind of a joke, I’m not laughing. Or is this some new way to get money from strangers by walking up to them and claiming
to be their son?”
“No.” Ty felt a red flush creep into his face. “It’s the truth. I am your son. My mother told me so.”
“Then she has me confused with somebody else.”
“No. She told me that my real father was Chase Calder. I didn’t know it, either, until a few weeks ago. I didn’t know that Dad … Phillip … had adopted me. I thought he was my real father until I found your name listed in the family Bible.” His urgent voice insisted Chase believe him.
“She made a mistake. I don’t know any woman named Elizabeth,” he repeated.
“Her full name is Mary Frances Elizabeth.” Ty waited for a sign that the name meant something.
Chase shook his head. “I don’t know her.”
“But I came all the way out here to find you!” He was hurting inside, angry and hurt that his claim was being denied. “All the way from California! You are my father!”
“I’m sorry you came on a wild-goose chase. I am not your father.” Chase saw the tears of frustration gathering in the boy’s eyes. It was going to be embarrassing for both of them if he started crying. He pretended not to notice as he straightened from the desk and stubbed his cigar out in the ashtray.