Green Calder Grass (Calder Saga 6)

“You decided to hire me the day you saw me at the ranch, didn’t you?”

“That’s when it first occurred to me.” She came around to the front of the desk and casually braced herself against it. “But you will learn that I never act rashly.”

“How long did it take to get that report back on me?” He nodded toward the papers she had consulted. “One week? Two?”

“A little less than two weeks.”

“So how come it took you so long to offer me the job?”

“Really, Mr. Haskell,” she said in a chiding voice. “I could hardly come kn

ocking on your door. Blue Moon is a very small town. Nothing happens in it that isn’t common knowledge by the end of the day. And if I had called you on the phone, you might have listened to my offer, and you might have hung up the minute you heard my name. That wasn’t a risk I wanted to take. No, it’s better this way. The mine is the only large employer in the area. Anyone would expect you to apply for work here.”

Buck read between the lines. “In other words, I’m not supposed to tell anyone that I’m working for you.”

“Not yet. Not until I’m ready to take possession. At that point, secrecy will no longer be necessary. Will you take the job? I promise you the salary will be more than adequate to meet your needs.”

“Oh, I’m taking it all right, ma’am,” Buck drawled in answer. “To be honest, I’d pay for the chance to see Calder’s face when he finds you’ve got title to that land. You just tell me when I start, and I’ll be there, all spit and polished and ready to gloat.”

“Not for a while yet. I’ll let you know. In the meantime,” she reached behind her and picked up a slim, square handbag, unfastened its flap, and removed a slender stack of crisp new bills from inside it, “here is your first month’s salary in advance.”

“You’re paying me in cash?” He took it from her and automatically counted it.

“For the time being, I don’t want anybody making a connection between us. A check you would have to cash somewhere. And as I said, this is a small town.”

“What about the people here?”

“As E.J. Dyson’s daughter, I command the loyalty here. This is my ground. Besides, Daigle is the only one who knows I’m meeting with you. And he won’t breathe a word of it for fear of losing his job.” She straightened from the desk and extended a hand again.

“It’s good to have you on board, Mr. Haskell,” she said, sending a clear signal that their meeting was concluded.

Slipping the bills into his inside jacket pocket, Buck stood up and shook her hand, sealing their bargain. “It will be interesting, ma’am. It surely will be that.”

The first stars gleamed in the evening sky. Scattered across the sprawling headquarters, towering yard lights cast pools of amber light onto the ground beneath them, simultaneously bringing light to the darkness and deepening its shadows.

But Ty noticed none of it as he leaned his shoulder against a pillar and bent his head to light a cigar. He puffed on it until the tip glowed, then shook out the match, pinched the burnt sulfur end until it felt cool, then tossed it away.

Behind him the front door opened, briefly throwing interior light onto the veranda. Then it closed and light footsteps approached. He recognized the gliding tread of them as Tara’s and didn’t turn.

“I didn’t know you were out here, Ty,” she declared as she joined him, then smiled when she saw the cigar in his mouth. “Smoking a cigar, I see. Do you remember how much I hated the smell of one? Now, I actually like it. It must come from living in a house without a man around. Smoking cigars is such a masculine thing.” She turned her face to the night air. “Isn’t it unusually warm for April?”

“Yes,” he replied through the cigar, accepting her presence and the underlying sexual tension that always accompanied it. Being with her was a habit he had picked up again over the last year.

“I thought so. Oh, Ty, look at that full moon,” she rushed. “Isn’t it spectacular? It looks like a big fat pumpkin sitting on the lip of the horizon.”

He glanced at the moonrise. “It is beautiful,” he agreed, but there was a perfunctory tone to his reply.

Catching it, Tara studied him curiously. “Is something wrong, Ty? You were so preoccupied at dinner tonight. And now?” She left the phrase unfinished, making a question of it.

He felt the probe of her gaze and avoided it by examining the buildup of ash on the glowing tip of his cigar. “Just tired. It’s been a long day.”

She released the breath she had been holding. “That’s a relief. For a minute, I thought the attorneys may have brought you bad news today. And I couldn’t imagine them flying in unless they had some positive information.” Fortunately she left him no opening to respond. “It has been a long day, but it’s been a good one, too. The photographer was absolutely certain that he captured some stunning images on film, both of the ranch itself and the life on it. I know it’s been inconvenient having them underfoot for the last three days, but a picture spread will make a much greater impact than an article alone.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” The subtle fragrance of her perfume wrapped itself around him, sensuous and alluring, like its wearer.

“Good, because it’s true,” Tara declared and again perused the nightscape before them. “The photographer could hardly wait to get back and start developing all the rolls of film he shot. To give you an idea of just how excited he was, he wants to come back when the trees have leafed out and the land has greened up.”

“God, no,” Ty snapped emphatically.