This Calder Sky

by Janet Dailey

  “Yes.” His hand rubbed her arm in a semi-absent caress. “Our son is a little jealous, I’m afraid, and a little uncomfortable with us.”

  “But why?” She turned her head, trying to see him in the dark.

  “Children—adolescents—have a hard time accepting the fact that their parents—especially their mother—have sexual desires. It’s as if once they have been conceived, their parents aren’t supposed to do it again. Don’t worry,” he murmured, grazing his mouth over her cheekbone. “He’ll get over it. Right now, he’s just uncomfortable with his own sexual needs.”

  “I hope so.” She rubbed her cheek against his mouth, her hands seeking the hardness of his body under the covers.

  “If he doesn’t straighten out soon, I’ll line him up with a girl. It’ll take his mind off us.” He had reached the corner of her lips.

  But Maggie drew back at his suggestion. “Chase, you wouldn’t. He’s only fifteen.”

  “I wouldn’t? You were fifteen, as I recall.” He reached out and pulled her back, threading his fingers in her hair to hold her head still. “Do you know that I’ve never made love to you at night? Do you suppose I’ll know how?”

  His mouth covered hers and she forgot all about Ty.

  The world seemed brighter to Chase. The grass was greener, the sky was bluer, and the sun was shinier. These last few days he’d walked with new strength, new purpose. Even the weight of running the Triple C rested more lightly on his shoulders.

  As he drove into the headquarters, he saw Nate leaving the office where all the records for the breeding stock were kept. The old cowboy wouldn’t tell his age, but Chase guessed he was in his sixties. Age had finally caught up with Nate. He couldn’t spend long hours in the saddle anymore without coming away all stoved up. But his eye for cattle was unfailing, so Chase had put him in charge of the breeding program to continually improve their range stock. Chase honked the horn to attract Nate’s attention, then pulled the pickup around to park it in the shade of a building. The cowboy was angling in his direction as Chase climbed out of the cab.

  “Just came back from checking on the south branch to see how Ike was doing.” Chase explained where he’d been. “I saw some of the calves out of your new bull. They must be twenty pounds heavier than the others.”

  “When we find out what kind of mothers those heifers turn out to be, then we’ll know if we’ve got something.” Nate reserved judgment on the worth of the new bull he had advised Chase to buy, but he stood a little straighter at the implied praise.

  “Where are you heading?”

  “Ownie was going to top off that grulla today. It’s one of old Cougar’s four-year-old colts. I’ve had my eye on that horse since he was two. That mouse-colored horse has cow savvy. I see it every time I look at him.” There is nothing a cowboy appreciates more than a good cow pony. “I wanted to check and see how he acted with a rider. I’ll bet he tears holes in the sky.”

  “Let’s go see.” Chase walked with his old teacher and foreman to the corrals where the young horses were kept.

  Each spring, the young horses were brought in off the range to be haltered and handled and get accustomed to saddles and bits between their teeth. No rider climbed on them until they were four years old. They arrived at the corral in time to see the horse wrangler take a spill in the dirt, and Chase got his first good look at the horse that had captured an old cowman’s eye. The dark gray horse was a well-muscled animal, but with a lean and rangy build, like its sire. Its legs, mane, and tail were black, with a white blaze on its face. Chase saw all that as the riderless horse circled the corral at a lope while its rider picked himself off the ground. A helper rode alongside the grulla and reached down to catch the trailing rope rein. Farther down the corral fence, he also saw Ty sitting on the rail. His mouth thinned in a grim line of displeasure.

  “I thought he was supposed to be cleaning the stables.” He glanced at Nate to confirm that Ty had been assigned to that task. Since he’d been at the ranch, his work had all been on the ground, from cleaning barns to the windmill crews, to painting, wherever unskilled labor was needed. The only time he’d been on a horse was when Chase had sent him out to see a roundup the day Maggie had arrived.

  “He’s all finished for the day.” Nate looked down the way with a half-smile on his weathered face. “That boy works like somebody set a fire under him so he can get done early and come down here to watch them break the young horses. He’s no slacker. He gets his work done before he sits on that fence.”

  Assured that Ty wasn’t loafing, Chase moved down the corral fence to where his son was watching. “That’s a good-looking four-year-old,” he said.

  “Yeah, it’s one of Cougar’s,” Ty replied automatically. Then he realized it was his father and hastened to explain, “I’m all through for today.”

  “I know,” Chase said in a tone that sounded all-knowing.

  Ty looked back to the corral, his expression growing wistful. “I sure wish I could ride that horse. You know I’m a good rider, Dad. And I’ve helped break in green horses before when we lived in California.”

  “Do you want me to ask Ownie if you can ride him?”

  Everything in Ty’s eager gaze said “yes,” but he sighed a dejected, “No.”

  Chase turned and called out to the horse wrangler, walking to the center of the corral, where the horse had been led. “Hey, Ownie! There’s a boy here who thinks he can ride that horse. Do you want to give him a try?”

  The short, wiry man glanced at Ty, who had been a steady spectator for days. He knew Chase was leaving the decision to his judgment, based on the horse and Ty’s inexperience.

  “Sure. Why not?” he shrugged, and Ty leaped off the fence.

  Chase was quick to notice that Nate had crawled into the corral. It was the old cowboy who was standing at the gelding’s head to ear him while Ty climbed into the saddle. The wrangler, Ownie Timms, ambled over to the fence where Chase was standing and watched Ty settle deep into the saddle and get a good grip on the rope reins.

  “The Mouse is a good honest horse, bucks straight with no meanness,” the wrangler told Chase. “But he’s young and strong, got a way of twisting and jumping out from under ya sideways.”

  “We might as well see what he can do,” Chase said, and both knew he wasn’t talking about the horse.

  At a nod from Ty, Nate let go of the horse’s ear and stepped aside. The grulla went straight up in the air and down with a jar, then went sun-fishing across the corral, turning its belly to the sky. When the horse lunged sideways, Ty lost a stirrup, and horse and rider parted company on the next jump. Chase watched Ty hit the ground and roll automatically, then looked away.

  Shaken and bruised, but unhurt, Ty lay on the ground for a minute, shaking his head and waiting for someone to ask if he was okay, but when he looked around, no one was paying any attention to him, not even his father. He got up, brushing himself off, and looked up to see Nate leading the horse to him. Nothing was said. It was presumed he would get back on, so he did. The second time he was bucked off, it was harder to get back on. The third time he didn’t think he could make it. Badly bruised, his knee throbbing, Ty glanced at his father, but Buck Haskell had just ridden up and his father was talking to him. Gritting his teeth, Ty limped to the horse Nate was petting and soothing. He waited until Nate had a hold of an ear, then hauled himself into the saddle, every muscle screaming. He caught a glint of admiration in the old cowboy’s eye. Suddenly all the pain seemed worthwhile. Then all hell was breaking loose again as Nate let go.

  Nate trotted stiffly out of the way and angled for the fence where Chase watched. “The boy’s got try.” That was the highest compliment that could be given.

  Chase smiled. “Maybe we could put him on a horse for the rest of the year and teach him about cows.” He glanced up at Buck, who was sitting in a relaxed slouch over the saddle horn, his hat tipped to the back of his curly blond head. “Have you got somebody in your crew who can keep an eye on
him and show him the ropes?” All the while he kept one eye on Ty. This time he seemed to be glued in the saddle, ready for every one of the grulla’s tricks.

  “Dave is good with kids. I’ll keep an eye on him, too,” Buck promised.

  “We’ll start him next week.” Chase noticed the mouse-colored horse was only crow-hopping now. “How’s everything going?” It was a general question addressed to Buck.

  “Fine. Had a kind of freak accident the other day. Lost a calf out on the butte. Got tangled up in a strand of barbed wire.” Buck straightened in the saddle, adjusting his hat onto his forehead. “The boy’s got a good seat. Talk to you later, Chase.”

  “Right.”

  “I heard about that calf,” Nate said after Buck had ridden away. “Burt found it four days ago. Calf hadn’t even stiffened up yet.”

  “Oh?” There was a point to this information; Chase could tell by the tone of the man’s voice. He remembered he had planned to ride out to the butte with Buck four days ago.

  “Yeah. It was kind of funny business,” Nate said. “That strand of barbed wire was wrapped around the calf’s neck. The theory is it got tangled in it, and when it tried to get loose, it twisted the wire tighter.”

  “Is that right?” But the words gave Chase an eerie chill for all his outward show of calm. He was almost prepared for Nate’s next statement.

  “It’s kinda hard to figure how the calf got tangled in the first place, and how there wasn’t much sign of struggle in the grass. And it’s a really strange coincidence that the end of the wire got wrapped nine times.”

  The hangman’s knot. Another message that had been meant for him, but he hadn’t gone to get it. The noose on the desktop had been the first warning. The strangled calf was the second. His blood ran cold as a solitary cloud passed in front of the sun. These warnings had to be the product of a twisted mind. There was no way he could outguess what Culley O’Rourke might do next. Even if he could, how could he go against Maggie’s brother? Either way, he would be damned. It boiled down to which risk was he willing to take—the chance that the next time Culley might use something other than a dumb animal in his attempt to terrorize Chase, or the chance of losing Maggie. She would never forgive him if he caused something to happen to her brother. How far would Culley go? Was he just trying to scare him, or was there true vengeance planned? Or—was this a clever ploy to cause trouble between him and Maggie so she would leave him and go to Culley?

  All he said to Nate was, “That’s quite a coincidence. If a man had a guilty conscience, he might make something out of it.”

  “He might,” Nate agreed and moved away from the fence to saunter bowlegged to the mouse-colored horse standing passively in the middle of the corral while Ty dismounted.

  That evening, Ty was already sitting at the table when Maggie saw him for the first time since morning. It wasn’t until dinner was finished and he excused himself to leave the table that she noticed how stiff and awkwardly he moved, favoring his right leg.

  “Ty, are you hurt?”

  “Naw.” He shrugged away his aches, but not very convincingly. “I banged my knee a little. Nate gave me some liniment for it. It’ll be all right.”

  She watched him limp out of the room, then started clearing the dinner dishes from the table while Chase finished his coffee. When she returned from the kitchen, Chase was staring at his cup with a hard frown. She suddenly realized how quiet he had been throughout dinner, his thoughts apparently elsewhere.

  “Is something bothering you?” She paused beside his chair.

  He looked up, seeming to bring himself back to the present with an effort. He smiled, but the frown never completely left his face. “Yes. You.” He caught her hand and pulled her onto his lap. He kissed her soundly, then lifted his head, his lazy eyes regarding her possessively. “That’s what I wanted for dessert.” His hand stroked her thigh and hip.

  “What were you thinking about before I came in?” she persisted, caressing the angular planes of his cheek.

  “You would have been proud of our son today. He rode one of the green four-year-olds we’re breaking. He was bucked off four times, but got back on each time and rode the horse to a standstill.”

  “Chase, he could have been hurt,” Maggie protested with a quick frown. “He doesn’t know the first thing about riding an unbroken horse. He’s been on some young, untrained horses, but never one fresh off the range.”

  “He has to learn how it’s done sometime.”

  “But—” His mouth was on hers to silence her argument. When she made a half-hearted attempt to elude his kiss, he caught her lip between his teeth and chewed it gently. Her hands wound into his hair to force his mouth fully onto her lips.

  Chase didn’t tell her about the calf that had been strangled and left with the hangman’s message around its neck. He knew better than she did how fragile the feelings she had for him were. Too much outside pressure might snap them before they had a chance to grow strong. Every minute, every hour, every day he could gain just altered the odds a little more in his favor.

  He already knew she was his. He could never let her go again.

  Chapter XXXIV

  Maggie reined in her horse and maneuvered it to open the gate to the Broken Butte range. She was to meet Chase out here somewhere. He’d suggested this morning that she come out this way on her afternoon ride. In these miles of wild country, there were only three places where they would be working a herd. She rode through the gate and closed it behind her, trying to decide which of the three to try first. Then she saw a rider cantering down a slope to meet her.

  “Hello, Maggie.” Buck Haskell touched the rolled point of his hat and reined his horse, swinging it around beside hers. “Chase asked me to meet you and guide you back.”

  “I wondered where I was going to find him,” she admitted, smiling briefly at the gregarious cowboy Chase counted as his friend.

  They started out at a trot. “You’re looking beautiful today, Maggie. I think marriage agrees with you.”

  “It does.” Chase had warned her that Buck was prone to flattery. He did have a boyish charm that was irresistible, his wide, appreciative grin prompting her smile to be more natural and less polite.

  “I have to tell you that when Chase told me you two were getting married, I didn’t think you had a Chinaman’s chance after what happened to your pa.” He shook his head wryly. “But I should have known that Chase always gets what he wants.”

  The breeze seemed to take on a chill at the reference to her father. It was better if she didn’t let her thoughts dwell too much in the past and open old wounds. She could almost hear Chase saying, “Hold on tight to what we have, Maggie.” No, she wouldn’t look back, not that far back.

  “In this case, it’s what we both want,” she said.

  “I can see that.” Buck grinned at her. “Chase thinks the sun rises and sets on that boy of yours. You want to talk about a proud papa—that Chase, he’s one. That boy means everything to him. ‘Course, that’s natural for a father to feel that way about his son.”

  “Yes.” Maggie listened to the praise and felt uneasy.

  “I guess there isn’t anything Chase wouldn’t do for him,” Buck said thoughtfully. “Once he sinks his teeth into an idea, he won’t let it go. It was just a matter of time before he got you around to his way of thinking. Chase knew what it was like growing up without a mother, and he didn’t want that for the kid. My mother was kind of a second mother to him, but it isn’t like having your own. I guess that’s the way you thought—wanting the boy to have his own father.”

  “Yes.” Maggie didn’t dissuade him from that belief. There was no reason to tell him Chase had initially blackmailed her into this marriage with threats of winning Ty away from her.

  “Chase and me were practically raised as brothers. I have pretty strong feelings about him. I guess you know the story. There aren’t many people that would give an ex-con another chance. I owe him a lot, but I guess I don’t have
to convince you what kind of a man he is.” A short laugh came from him. “Here I am, riding beside a beautiful woman, and what am I doing? Raving on about her husband! I’m really slipping. I’d better deliver you to Chase before I lose my reputation.” He spurred his horse into a canter and Maggie followed suit.

  The lowing of cattle greeted them as they crested a rise and a meadow spread out before them. The holding pens were in the center of it. Maggie easily spotted Chase among the riders. Mounted on a blood bay gelding, he was positioned near the main gate of the holding pens, watching the action. Buck stayed beside her, not leaving until she was delivered into Chase’s hands.

  “Here she is, safe and sound,” he said with a wide grin.

  “Thanks, Buck.” Chase was too busy looking at her to notice Buck tip his hat respectfully toward Maggie before reining away. “You look like a young girl again with your hair tucked under your hat like that.”

  But he already knew the maturity of the curves beneath the long-sleeved designer blouse of yellow chamois cloth, and his gaze was now lingering on her mouth. She smoothed an escaping tendril of hair under her hat, enjoying the warm disturbance his look caused.

  “It’s getting too long,” she said to explain why she was wearing her hair the old way, then broke contact with his eyes to survey the scene. “Where’s Ty?”

  “He’s out with Dave finishing the gather. We should start moving the herd within the hour.” There had been a delay in driving this herd to summer graze due to a breakdown of a windmill pump, and a creek unexpectedly went dry, making the water supply on the range temporarily insufficient. Now the pump was fixed and a beaver dam high upstream had been destroyed to allow water to flow in the creek bed again. He challenged Maggie with a glittering look. “Want to cowboy this afternoon?”

  “Sure.” It had been a long time since she’d actually worked on a ranch. It sounded like fun.

  When the last of the stragglers were brought in and the count was confirmed, the gates to the holding pens were opened and the herd was driven out. While Maggie rode the left flank beside Chase and two other riders, Ty was stationed back on drag. Not wanting to be pegged a “momma’s boy,” he had barely nodded to her when he’d ridden in with his teacher-partner, Dave. Amused, but understanding, Maggie had been careful not to watch her son too closely.