This Calder Sky

by Janet Dailey

  “Sorry I couldn’t be of any more help,” he apologized to Webb, and not for the first time. “It just all happened so fast I never really got a good look at anything or anybody. The riders were crouched so low in the saddles that I couldn’t tell if they were tall or short, or fat or thin. All I saw for sure was that there was two of them, plus the driver and another big guy. The trailer was just an ordinary cattle truck, and I couldn’t see any lettering on the cab. If there was a license plate, it was all muddied up,” he sighed and shook his head. “There for a while there was so much lead flying through the air, I thought I was in the middle of a shootout in a Western movie.”

  “You did the best you could under the circumstances. I don’t ask more from a man than that.” But Webb was conscious of the frustration he felt at the lack of information the man had been able to obtain.

  “Are you positive there isn’t anything, Slim?” Virg Haskell persisted. “None of them called each other by name?”

  “Nope.” The man shifted uncertainly and gnawed at the inside of his lip. “There was something familiar about one guy’s voice.”

  “Do you mean you had heard it before?” Webb’s gaze narrowed on him.

  “Well, it kinda sounded like … Angus O’Rourke,” Slim admitted finally.

  “Are you sure?” There was a steel quiet to Webb’s voice.

  “That’s just it,” the cowboy sighed. “I’m not sure. That’s why I didn’t mention it before. Hell, it could have been anybody’s voice.”

  On that negative note, Webb turned to the man at his right. “Take Slim back to the headquarters so he can get some sleep. And, Virg, let Ruth know I probably won’t be back for lunch until around one.”

  “I’ll tell her.” Virg nodded and moved off toward one of the parked trucks, with Slim Bevins tagging along a step behind.

  “Seems to me you could use some sleep yourself.” Nate ran a critical eye over the sharply etched lines on Webb’s face. “In case you forgot, you’ve been up all night, too.”

  “I’ve gone without sleep before,” Webb retorted.

  “Yeah, but you weren’t pushing fifty when you did it,” Nate pointed out.

  “What’s the matter, Nate?” A wry glance was cast in the foreman’s direction. “Do you want me to send you back to the bunkhouse so you can get some sleep? You’ve been up all night, too, and you’re right up there with me, pushing close to that half-a-century mark.”

  But Nate just grinned. “I’m not the one who’s got a son you might be thinking you have to keep up with.” He glanced toward the cowboys with the herd where Chase was. “Looks like he wore out a horse already,” Nate observed as both Chase and Buck left the herd to ride their sweating horses toward the fence gate to get fresh mounts that were picketed along the fence line. Seeing Chase made Nate wonder, and he did it out loud. “Do you suppose it was O’Rourke?”

  Webb flashed him a sharp look but didn’t answer as he stepped out of the shade of the trailer to walk to the fence. “How’s it going?”

  “The herd didn’t have a chance to scatter much,” Chase replied, already dismounted and tugging the cinch loose on his saddle. “We should have a count somewhere around noon.”

  “Is there any coffee in that Thermos yet?” Buck wanted to know as he looped his horse’s reins around the gate post. “I sure could use some.”

  “There might be half a cup in the bottom. It’s in the cab.” Nate motioned over his shoulder to the truck parked behind him.

  Buck started to open the gate when something in the grass caught his eye. He bent down to pick it up. “Is this off your saddle, Chase?”

  Chase glanced to see what it was, then shook his head. He didn’t need to check his saddle to know. “It isn’t mine. The leather ties on mine are plain circles. That’s scalloped.”

  “It isn’t mine, either.” Buck looked at it again. “Maybe it’s off Clay’s saddle.”

  “Or it might be off one of the rustler’s saddles,” Webb suggested striding forward. “Let me see it.”

  His suggestion prompted both the foreman and Chase to walk over for a closer look. It was a slim lead, but at this point, it could turn out to be the only important clue they had. Nate was the first to hear the canter of a horse on the road and looked up just as the rider came into sight.

  “Someone’s coming,” he told the others, and they turned their attention to the rider.

  When Chase recognized the slim, supple rider, his tiredness fell away. Maggie had reined in her horse at the sight of all the vehicles and people. Turning at a right angle to them, her horse danced sideways for several steps before she brought it around to approach them at a trot. A single black braid fell across the front of her shoulder. When she stopped her horse near the gate, he could see the faint tension in her features, the subdued flash of defiance in her green eyes. His father had a way of intimidating people; because of her slight inferiority complex, Maggie was obviously affected by it.

  “Hello.” It was an all-encompassing greeting, given as she swung out of the saddle in a single fluid motion. “I heard you had some excitement here last night.”

  “And where did you hear that?” The sharp demand of his father drew Chase’s glance. The harshness didn’t seem necessary.

  But Maggie just smiled, the green flashing a little brighter in her eyes. “Anything that happens to a Calder travels through this area like wildfire. Birdie Johnson called me this morning.” Then her glance lighted on the leather rosette with its twin strips of rawhide. “Hey, that’s mine. Where did you find it?” She took it from his father’s hand before any of them had a chance to react to her startling announcement.

  “Buck found it in the grass by the gate,” Webb answered.

  “I noticed it was gone the other day, but I didn’t have any idea where I had lost it.” Her mouth had relaxed slightly to smile.

  “We thought it might have come off the saddle of one of the rustlers,” Webb said, looking at her carefully.

  The laugh she made was slightly forced. “I assure you it is off my saddle, and I was in bed asleep last night by nine-thirty.”

  Webb let his gaze wander around the immediate area before returning to her with pinpoint sharpness. “This is quite a ways from your father’s place. What were you doing here when you lost this?”

  Chase would have spoken up at that moment, but he held his silence when he saw the bold way she challenged his father. He had been on the receiving end of one of those daring looks before. A mixture of pride and amusement surged through him.

  “I had arranged to meet your son,” she retorted in a very clear voice.

  Beside him, Buck shifted and cleared his throat. His sparkling blue eyes said he found the situation very entertaining.

  “And did you meet him?” his father prompted.

  “Yes, she did,” Chase answered for her, coming to her support, but the glance she sent him didn’t thank him for it.

  “Yes, I met him,” Maggie confirmed in a spark of temper. “And I don’t like it when people infer I’m lying, Mr. Calder.” The emphasis was arrogantly sarcastic as she pivoted away to mount her horse.

  Chase started to push his way forward to stop her from leaving, but his father laid a restraining hand on his arm, not taking his eyes off the girl reining her horse in a circle. When Chase attempted to shrug aside his father’s hand, the grip tightened.

  “Let her go, son,” was all he said. “We have work to do.”

  The incident gave Webb something to think about. He was willing to concede that the O’Rourke girl hadn’t been one of the rustlers, but it was entirely possible she was covering for one of them. Even if she wasn’t and the saddle tie had come off her saddle when she’d met Chase here, it became highly likely that she knew the cattle were being moved to this pasture, information the rustlers had to obtain somewhere. There were several definite possibilities to keep in mind.

  PART III

  A sky of challenge,

  A sky of right,


  This sky that strikes with

  A Calder’s might

  Chapter XI

  Most of the clothes in the little dry-goods store in Blue Moon were work garments, designed for durability rather than fashion. Of the two racks of dresses in the ladies’ section of the store, only half of one rack was reserved for dressier clothes. The rest were all house-dresses. Whenever Maggie had the extra time, she looked through the dresses on the hangers. It was better than a catalog because she could actually touch the clothes and hold them up against her while she looked in the full-length mirror.

  This afternoon she had the time to spare because her father and brother were in Jake’s having a beer. She entered the store and made her way slowly toward the ladies’ section. Lew Michels, the proprietor, was measuring a length of chambray for a customer when Maggie passed the yard-goods department. He glanced up and smiled in recognition.

  “Hello, Maggie. Dorie is out back in the storeroom. Stop in and say hello. It will give her an excuse to take a break,” he said.

  Doris Michels was his daughter and a classmate of Maggie’s at school. They had never been friends, but not because Maggie didn’t like her. Dorie was nice, but her best friend was Cindy Schaeffer, who also lived in town. The two of them were inseparable, and there never seemed to be room for a third person to join in their gossipy girls’ chatter. Besides, with her parents owning the store, Dorie always had nice clothes to wear, and Cindy’s mother could sew anything and not have it look homemade.

  “Thanks, Mr. Michels.” But Maggie doubted that Dorie would be overjoyed to see her. They usually ran out of conversation after a few minutes. She walked to the back and knocked on the storeroom door. There was a clatter and thump of someone stumbling over boxes before the door was opened. A slightly plump girl with sandy-blonde hair blinked at her in surprise.

  “Hi, Maggie. Gee, I haven’t seen you since summer vacation started.” Then she laughed. “I didn’t see much of you during school, either. You were hardly ever there.”

  “I missed a lot of school helping my father,” Maggie admitted. “Your dad said you were back here.” She already found herself searching for something to say.

  “Yeah. He’s put me to work in the afternoons now that school’s out for the summer, so I can earn some money. There just isn’t any place around here to get a job,” the girl explained.

  “It is hard,” Maggie agreed and started to back away.

  “Why don’t you come on back?” Dorie Michels invited. “I’ll show you the new dresses that just came in. I’m in the middle of unpacking them now. It will give us a chance to talk for a while.” Maggie accepted the opportunity to see the dresses before anyone else in town did and followed her classmate into the store room. “Did you hear that Cindy Schaeffer’s parents might move to Miles City?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, they might. Isn’t that awful?” She made a face at the thought. “Here are the dresses. Aren’t they gorgeous?” She picked up a long-sleeved knit dress in a dark green color. “Of course, they’re for winter. Isn’t it crazy to get winter dresses in the middle of summer? But that’s the way the world of fashion works.”

  “It’s nice.” Maggie lightly touched the dress, liking the soft feel of the heavy materials.

  Dorie pushed it into her hands to reach for another. “Don’t worry about wrinkling it. I have to iron them all when they’re unpacked. This one is pretty, too.” She lifted another one from the pile. “But it has too many ruffles and makes me look fatter than I am. Momma says it’s baby fat, but I don’t think it’s ever going to melt away. Oh! This one would look fabulous on you, Maggie.”

  It was a bold rust color, the same material and style as the one she was holding. Maggie draped the other one over a box to take the one Dorie held.

  “There’s a mirror behind you.” Dorie pointed, and Maggie turned to see how it looked on her.

  She like the contrast of its vivid color with her dark looks and the sophisticated style that made her appear older. “It’s lovely,” she murmured.

  “Why don’t you try it on?” her plump blonde classmate urged. “There’s a dressing room right over there.”

  Maggie hesitated only briefly before accepting the invitation. She couldn’t resist the chance to see what she looked like with the dress on. Using the dressing room Dorie had indicated, she peeled out of her clothes and boots and slipped the dress over her head, twisting her arms to zip the back.

  “It’s perfect on you!” Dorie declared the minute Maggie stepped out of the dressing room. “I knew it would be. Come look in the long mirror out front.”

  When Maggie saw her reflection, all her expectations were exceeded. The transformation from a blue-jeaned tomboy into a young lady was a startling change; the dress showed off her high-breasted figure in a way the ill-fitting male clothes never could. Not even the bareness of her feet detracted from the genteel femininity of her mirror’s image.

  “Can you imagine if you had your hair up how sophisticated you’d look?” Dorie’s suggestion prompted Maggie to sweep the heavy weight of her hair off her neck to hold it atop her head. One glimpse of the possibilities was all the sandy-haired blonde needed. “Wait here, Maggie. I’ll see if I can find some pins in the back.”

  In the men’s section of the dry-goods store, Chase waited with diminishing patience while Buck tried on a variety of straw Stetsons in different shapes and styles. When they had driven into Blue Moon twenty minutes ago, Chase had recognized the rusted and dented truck parked in front of Jake’s as Angus O’Rourke’s. He had used the excuse of buying cigars to stop in the grocery store to find out whether Maggie was in there shopping and lingered until he was certain she wasn’t. Then he’d let Buck drag him across the road to the combination dry-goods-and-hardware store. His eyes had already searched the place without finding Maggie here, either. He was trying to hurry Buck into making a choice when he heard a young girl’s voice say Maggie’s name.

  “This one ain’t bad.” Buck twisted and posed to study the straw Stetson from all angles, then discarded it. “Did you see that hand-tooled saddle Lew has up front? You should buy me that, Chase. It’s a beauty.”

  “Save your money and buy it yourself.” Chase was moving away, homing in on the direction of the voice, as if it was a signal beacon.

  “Hell, it’d take me a year to save enough,” Buck snorted, but Chase wasn’t there to hear him.

  Crossing the store, he stopped within five feet of a young, dark-haired woman standing in front of a full-length mirror with her back turned to him. When his gaze met the green eyes in the mirror’s reflection, Maggie turned, posturing slightly as a model would do. The style of the richly vibrant rust-colored dress was too old for her, but it permitted Chase a glimpse of the woman she would be in a few years. Many reactions stirred within him; hot and disturbing, foremost among them was a desire for sole possession. Chase studied her quietly, but kept his feelings away from his face; he was not at ease with them.

  “I’m glad you saw me in this.” Her voice was low, lower than a whisper, yet steady and direct. “I wanted you to see that I really can be a lady someday.”

  The statement prodded his memory, recalling her vehement declaration that one day she would leave to better herself and become a lady. It jabbed him that she would leave. He was filled with the raw urge to crush her composure, that cool certainty of her. His gaze made a raking sweep of her and the dress.

  “You’ll never make it,” he said, his dryness rustling through his voice. “I’ve never met a lady yet who went around in bare feet.”

  A green-eyed fury shattered the picture of composure as Maggie reached around for the first thing she could lay her hands on. It was a folded cotton slip that went sailing through the air at him. Chase ducked it and moved forward to catch her hands before they could find a deadlier missile to hurl at him. Maggie struggled, and he laughed softly because this kind of lady he could handle. He pulled her toward him and forced her hands
to flatten themselves on his chest.

  “I will be a lady,” she hissed and tried to strain free of his steel hold.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Lazy with satisfaction, he ran his eyes over her animated features. “What man wants a tame, dull lady when he can enjoy the excitement of someone who is all woman? You don’t need to change to satisfy me.”

  The need to impose his will on her ran through him. The rashness of it made him catch her shoulders and pull her against him. His mouth silenced her faint outcry with the domination of his hard kiss. It lasted only seconds. Interrupted by someone’s approach, Chase released her and stepped away, trying to get a hold on the turbulence of his emotions.

  “Hello, Chase.” The slightly timid voice of a young girl announced the intruder.

  Indifferent recognition registered on Chase’s face. “Hello, Dorie.” He ignored the shyly flirtatious look she gave him, mentally dismissing her as too young to warrant more than polite attention.

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” the girl offered.

  “No, thanks.” His gaze had already returned to Maggie, clashing with hers before it suddenly hit him that the two girls were roughly the same age. His mouth twisted in self-mockery as the hard brown of his eyes softened to velvet in a silent apology to Maggie for his actions. Some of her stiffness melted in an equally silent acceptance of his apology. His finger briefly touched the pointed brim of his hat to take his leave from them before he turned to retrace his steps and rejoin Buck.

  “Gee,” Dorie murmured enviously as she watched him walk away. “I wish Chase Calder would look at me the way he looked at you.” With a sigh, she glanced back at Maggie and smiled to show there were no hard feelings. “I found some hairpins. Would you like me to fix your hair?”

  “No.” This time when Maggie glanced in the mirror, she saw what Chase had noticed. She was too young for this particular style of dress, and a change in hairdos wouldn’t alter that. She felt like an adolescent caught wearing lipstick and playing at adulthood. That’s what the mirror showed her, regardless of the maturity she felt inside. Yet Chase’s remark hadn’t shaken her resolve that someday she’d wear a dress like this—with high-heeled shoes, jewelry, and all the accessories that belonged with it. No one was going to say she couldn’t be a lady, especially a Calder. Unconsciously, Maggie shared her father’s resentment of the Calders’ status, power, and prestige.