by Janet Dailey
Annoyed, both with his implication and his use of the phrase “widow Calder,” Jessy spoke with a bit more force. “For your information, Monte has spent nearly all his time with Chase. He has never said or done anything to suggest he is interested in me.”
“Yes,” Laredo inserted. “He probably knows he needs to take it slow with you.”
“I think it’s more likely that he knows I am not interested,” she said with some heat.
“Oh, you’re interested all right,” Laredo stated with utter certainty as he held up a hand to stave off her protest. “And by that, I’m not suggesting that you weren’t very much in love with your late husband. I think you probably were. But you are flesh and blood, the same as the rest of us. It’s as natural for a woman to want the company of a man as it is for a man to want that of a woman. It doesn’t have anything to do with being unfaithful or disloyal. It only means you’re human.”
She had to work at it, but she managed to respond calmly. “I am well aware of that.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Laredo said smoothly.
She turned to Chase. “If there isn’t anything else, I really need to be getting back to the ranch.”
“I have just one more question,” Chase inserted.
“What’s that?”
“Who is Captain?”
A smile lit Jessy’s face. “You remembered him.”
“Only the name. I don’t know who he is.”
“Captain is a longhorn steer, famous for leading the first trail herd from Texas to Montana, and all the subsequent herds that came after it. He has become something of a Triple C legend. When he died of old age, his horns were mounted above the fireplace mantel in the den.”
“A longhorn.” He was amused to learn the name that had nagged him belonged to a steer. At the same time, in some inner part of him, it rang true. “So the Calders moved here from Texas. Whereabouts in Texas?”
“Somewhere outside of Fort Worth. I know your great-grandfather, Seth Calder, is buried in an old cemetery in Fort Worth. Ty visited his grave site while he was attending college there.”
“Do we still have any family ties in Texas?”
“None that I ever heard about,” Jessy replied.
Later, as she drove away, Laredo remarked to Chase, “I would like to know more about this Monte fella. He seems to be the only new card in the deck. That may mean something—or nothing at all.”
The brown horse moved at a lazy, shuffling trot, each stride marked by the swish of the summer-dry grass. Culley O’Rourke sat loose and relaxed in the saddle, his gaze making its idle comb of the broken country before him.
Earlier that morning he had ridden to the Circle Six and had a cup of coffee with Cat. Leaving there, he had swung south onto the Triple C range, skirting the rough foothills where it would be too easy for his horse to end up with a stone wedged under its shoe. That small section was the only part of the Triple C that wasn’t fit for man or beast.
As usual, the direction he took was a whim of the moment, a decision sometimes made by his horse and sometimes by Culley. But always he maintained a natural alertness for his surroundings. Age may have stolen some of his strength, but it hadn’t yet dulled his senses. He knew every sight, every sound, every smell that should be there, making him quick to catch any that were out of place.
The sudden, staccato bursts of a vehicle’s horn somewhere in the far distance was an alien sound, one that instantly grabbed Culley’s attention. He reined in the brown gelding, his head snapping up. The horn blasts didn’t last long, just long enough for Culley to determine they were out of place.
The Triple C had a seldom used ranch road west of him that trailed off short of the north boundary line. He couldn’t imagine why anybody would be traveling along that road unless they were checking fences. It was a question he had to answer for his own peace of mind.
Laying the reins alongside the gelding’s neck, he swung the horse westward and lifted it into an ambling trot. It was a detour made to satisfy his curiosity but pushed by no sense of haste.
The road was almost a mile distant as the crow flies, but as Culley’s trail wound, it was a little more than that. About the time he got within sight of it, he heard the steady hum of an engine. He rode to a vantage point, reaching it as a ranch pickup came into view. It was pure luck that Culley spotted long strands of tawny gold hair whipping out of the driver’s side window.
“Has to be Jessy.” Even as he muttered the words, a puzzled frown knitted the creases in his forehead. “What’s she doin’ way out here?” He snorted in skepticism, remembering. “The last time I asked her, she fed me a line ’bout fixin’ fence. What d’ya want’a bet she was meetin’ that cowboy again, Brownie? Wonder where their rendezvous was this time?”
No longer interested in the pickup, Culley aimed his horse toward the road and the slow-to-settle dust cloud the truck had left in its wake.
Chapter Seven
Hot and tired after the dusty drive, Jessy entered The Homestead and automatically headed for the den. But her thoughts were still on the meeting with Chase. Since learning that Chase was alive, she had found it difficult to focus on the ranch and its operations. She kept getting sidetracked with thoughts of the dilemma his amnesia posed. She was heartened, though, that he had remembered Captain. Admittedly it wasn’t much, but it was a beginning.
As she reached the doorway to the den, she caught a movement in her side vision and glanced toward the living room. When she saw twelve-year-old Beth Trumbo grab the newel post to start upstairs, for a split second Jessy couldn’t think why the girl was in the house. Then it hit her that Beth was there to look after the twins. At almost the same instant, Jessy noticed the unusual silence in the house and realized the twins must be taking their naps.
“Are you going up to check on the twins?” she asked Beth, feeling a twinge of guilt at how little time she managed to spend with them lately.
The red-haired, freckle-faced girl bobbed her head in acknowledgement. “They’ve been asleep a long time.”
“I’ll do it. You go ask Sally if she would fix me a sandwich. Anything will do. I’m starved.”
“She said you would be when you missed lunch.” Beth flashed her a shy smile and reversed her course to head for the kitchen.
Jessy crossed to the wide oak staircase and ran up the steps, her expression softening with a mother’s affection at the thought of her sleeping children. When she reached the top of the stairs, there was a telltale turning of the doorknob to Chase’s bedroom. When the door moved a fraction of an inch, Jessy knew immediately that Trey wasn’t asleep—and he wasn’t in the room he shared with Laura.
Altering her course, Jessy swung into the hallway and started toward Chase’s room. As if sensing the jig was up, Trey opened the door.
“Hi, Mom.” He gave her a look of straight-faced innocence. “I woked up.”
“I see that.” She also saw that he had on a pair of Chase’s cowboy boots, the tops of them reaching above his knees. She fought down a smile at the comical picture he made. “What are you doing with Grampa’s boots?”
“I was tryin’ ’em on.” He glanced down at them. “Grampa’s got big feet.”
“Definitely a lot bigger than yours.” Jessy lifted him out of the boots, set him down, then picked up the boots and returned them to the closet.
Trey watched from the doorway. “Somebody took Grampa’s razor.”
“Is that right?” She pretended not to know what he was talking about. “You don’t suppose somebody might have put it up so you wouldn’t accidentally cut yourself with it, do you?”
“I looked in all the drawers.”
“Don’t you be snooping anymore in your grampa’s things. It’s very wrong to do that.” She planted a hand on his head and turned him away from the door, pointing him down the hall while she pulled the door shut behind her.
A yawning Laura emerged from the bedroom, saw Jessy and broke into a run. “I’m glad you’re home,
Mom.” She wrapped herself around Jessy’s legs.
“So am I.” Smiling, she smoothed a hand over Laura’s blond curls.
Laura tipped her head way back to look up at her. “I want’a go see Aunt Tara, but Beth wouldn’t take me.” Her lower lip protruded in a sulky pout.
“That’s because Beth isn’t old enough to drive.”
In a flash, Laura switched tactics and bestowed her most beguiling smile on Jessy. “But you are, Mommy.”
“Sorry, I can’t today. I have too many things to do.”
Angrily Laura pulled away from her and buried her chin in her neck. “You always say that.”
“We’ll do something together real soon.” It was a promise Jessy made as much to herself as to Laura. “In the meantime, let’s go down to the kitchen. Sally is fixing me a sandwich and I’ll bet we can rustle up some milk and cookies for you two. How does that sound?”
“Yippee!” Trey spun around in his stockinged feet, slipped on the hardwood floor and fell with a thud. Laura was considerably less enthusiastic, already aware of the value of emotional blackmail.
Jessy helped Trey to his feet, verified that the damage was mostly to his pride, and ordered, “You go get your boots on and meet us downstairs.”
“Ah, Mom.” With a disgruntled fling of the arms, he turned toward the bedroom. As usual, his despair didn’t last long, and he broke into a run and slid the last few feet to the door.
With a mild shake of her head at Trey, Jessy started down the stairs. Truthfully, she was much more comfortable with Trey’s sometimes wild antics than she was with the poise and dainty femininity of her daughter. She glanced back at Laura following her down the steps, looking like a little princess in training. Rather than outdistance Laura, Jessy slowed her own descent.
By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Trey was clumping down the steps at a reckless pace behind them. Two treads from the bottom, he jumped and landed at a run.
When the front door opened, Trey screeched to a halt and turned toward it with an air of expectancy that told Jessy he was expecting to see Chase walk through. But it was Monte Markham who stepped into the foyer.
“Ah, there you are,” he said when he saw Jessy. His easy smile widened at the sight of the twins. “How perfect, the twins are here, too.”
“We were on our way to the kitchen for a snack,” Jessy explained. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Later. First I want you all to come outside and see the surprise I brought.” He motioned them toward the door, an enigmatic sparkle in his brown eyes.
“A surprise,” Trey repeated with burgeoning interest. “What kind of surprise?”
“Come and see,” Monte replied, deepening the mystery.
The possibility of a present was all it took to make Laura forget that she had been giving her mother the silent treatment. She looked up with bright-eyed eagerness. “Can we, Mommy?”
“Of course.” She nodded her permission.
Both twins raced to the door that Monte held open for them, but he waited for Jessy. “I only hope my gift meets with your approval,” he murmured to her. “I’m afraid I have been a bit presumptuous.”
Jessy suspected he had been very presumptuous if he thought she would be excited to receive one of his registered Highland cows. For the time being she chose to say nothing at all.
Trey pounced on Monte the minute they stepped onto the veranda. “Where’s the s’prise?” he demanded with suspicion.
“Down there.” Monte gestured toward the Range Rover he had parked on a flat stretch of ground at the base of the knoll.
With a sinking heart, Jessy noticed the closed horse van that was hitched to it. It was all she needed to see to become convinced that his surprise was a shaggy-coated beast.
“Where?” Disappointment was already starting to cloud Laura’s expression.
“I’ll show you.”
Monte took the lead, descending the steps and striking out toward the trailer. Trey trotted after him, followed by Laura, while Jessy lagged behind all of them.
He went directly to the rear of the horse van and paused with one hand on the gate. “All three of you stand over there and cover your eyes.” He directed them to a spot near the trailer gate.
Obediently Trey and Laura stopped and reached up to cover their eyes. Laura stole a peek at Jessy. “You’re supposed to hide your eyes, Mommy.”
Complying, Jessy bowed her head and cupped a hand over her eyes, going through the motions for their sake. She heard the snick of the latch unbolting and the thunk of the gate ramp being lowered to the ground. She wasn’t at all surprised to hear the clump of hooves on the ramp.
“Are you ready?” Monte called, dragging out the moment to Jessy’s annoyance.
The twins shouted, “Ready!” in an excited chorus.
“Very well. You may look now,” he told them.
Jessy lowered her hand and forced a smile onto her face, then froze at the sight of a pony, its chestnut coat brushed to a high gleam. Neck arched and ears pricked, the pony swung its head toward the trio of onlookers, showing off a snow white stripe that ran from nose to forelock.
Laura oohed and clasped her hands together in delight. Trey wasted no such time. He ran straight to the pony and held out his palm for the pony to nuzzle. Laura followed at a more composed pace.
“He’s beautiful, Mommy,” she proclaimed on closer inspection.
“Indeed he is,” Jessy agreed and shot a glance at Monte, catching the hopeful way he was watching her.
“I warned you that I was being a bit presumptuous,” he reminded her.
“So you did.” Joining them, Jessy ran a hand over the pony’s sleek neck.
“Does he have a name?” Laura wondered as the pony obligingly dropped its head to her level, allowing her to pet its cheek.
“He’s called Sundance,” Monte replied before bringing his attention back to Jessy. “He is a six-year-old registered Welsh, extremely well-trained, with an extraordinarily gentle disposition. The perfect mount for a child.”
“And I thought you were bringing over one of your Highland cows,” Jessy remembered with amusement.
“But it is a breed from another part of Britain,” Monte said. Turning his attention to Trey, he said, “Would you like me to lift you aboard so you can ride him for a bit?”
Trey immediately stepped back from the pony and gave Monte a look that said he had lost his senses. “He’s too little to ride yet.”
For an instant, Jessy was too stunned to react. Then her mind flashed back to all the times she had said something similar to Trey when she had taken the twins to see a newborn foal. Trey had obviously taken her words to heart.
Monte responded to his assertion with a low chuckle. “Sundance may be on the small side at just under fourteen hands, but I promise you that he is full-grown.”
When Trey remained skeptical, Jessy added her assurance. “It’s okay to ride him, Trey. That is as big as he will get.”
A frown puckered his forehead as Trey made another critical study of the pony. Finished with his assessment, he looked up at Jessy. “But Molly’s bigger, Mom.”
“I know,” Jessy murmured and realized at once that, when compared with Quint’s horse, the pony didn’t measure up. “I’m sorry,” she said to Monte in a voice full of apologetic regret. “I’m afraid Trey has his heart set on a horse like his cousin’s.”
“My grampa’s gonna get me one,” Trey asserted for the umpteenth time.
“Well, this is an unexpected turn of events,” Monte said, clearly at a loss over what to do next. “It would seem my grand surprise has turned out to be a bit of a flop.”
Before Jessy could say anything, Laura spoke up, “Can I ride him, Mommy?”
“Of course you can.” Jessy immediately picked her up and set her on the pony’s back. Laura automatically grabbed a handful of the pony’s flaxen mane, her expression alight with eager anticipation.
“It seems someone here apprecia
tes you, Sundance,” Monte murmured to the pony and led it away from the trailer.
Around and around the ranch yard they went, mostly at a walk but occasionally at a jogging trot that made Laura giggle. It was at times like this that Jessy was convinced a love of horses was the only thing her daughter had inherited from her.
An unusually subdued Trey watched his sister in silence. Glancing down, Jessy noticed the touch of envy in his expression.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to go for a ride on the pony?”
It was obvious he was tempted to change his mind. Still he hesitated. “Would Tom or Jobe ride him?” he asked, referring to two of the ranch hands he particularly admired.
“I’m afraid they are too big to ride Sundance. But when they were your age, I’ll bet they would have.”
While Trey was mulling over her statement, Jessy’s father, Stumpy Niles, drove into the ranch yard and pulled up near the trailer. Letting the pickup engine idle, he poked his head out of the driver’s side window, an arm hooked over it.
“Hi. I didn’t expect to see you this afternoon,” Jessy said in greeting.
“Just came to pick up some things at the commissary for your mother,” he replied, his attention shifting to Laura and a proud smile lifting his mouth. “Laura is sure a picture on that pint-sized horse. Look at that. Her hair’s about the same color as that pony’s mane.”
“It is, isn’t it.” But Jessy was quick to notice the sudden glumness of Trey’s expression. She suspected it was the phrase “pint-sized horse” that caused it—thus confirming his own opinion of the pony.
“I’m gonna get my rope, Mom,” he said and took off for the house.
“What’s wrong with him?” Stumpy frowned in surprise. “He didn’t even say hello.”
“I think he’s disappointed. Monte bought the pony as a surprise for Trey, but Trey wants a real horse,” Jessy explained. “I have been meaning to call and ask you to see if there was a horse gentle enough for him in our own string.”
“Yeah, it breaks my heart the way he keeps sayin’ how Chase is gonna get him one. I’ll ask around and find out if the boys know of one,” Stumpy promised. “Is everything else all right?”
