“Ty would really be pleased if he saw this place now,” Jessy murmured, drawing Culley’s glance to her. “We used to talk about someday fixing up the old Boar’s Nest so we could have a place where we could get away by ourselves, without phones or interruptions.”
Hearing Jessy spout such foolishness took her down another notch in Culley’s estimation. One thing Culley knew for sure, if Chase were still alive he wouldn’t have thrown good money away on repairs to this old shack. He wondered if Jessy knew that and whether that was part of the reason she had hired an outsider to do the work.
All of which raised the question of how Jessy had become acquainted with the Texan. But it wasn’t part of Culley’s nature to come right out and ask. His approach was more roundabout.
“Guess you’ll be goin’ back t’ Texas now that you’re done,” he said to Laredo.
“Not for a while,” he answered.
“Laredo just agreed to come to work for the Triple C,” Jessy explained. “I’m making a deal to lease the old feedlot to Monte Markham, and he’ll pay the ranch to feed the cattle, which means I’ll need some extra hands.”
Her announcement was another surprise to Culley. He couldn’t help thinking that Chase hadn’t been in his grave a month yet and already the face of the Triple C was changing. And not for the better.
“Guess you ain’t got nothin’ to draw ya back to Texas,” Culley remarked, trying to figure out how much this Laredo fellow might have influenced Jessy’s decisions.
“Not anymore,” Jessy answered for him. “They recently sold the ranch they had down there. That’s how they knew Chase.”
“Good friend, was he?” Culley said in a voice thick with skepticism.
“Obviously we never saw him all that often,” Hattie admitted smoothly, “but we counted him as a friend.”
Culley decided at once that Hattie had probably set her cap for Chase. She certainly wouldn’t have been the first woman who did. His own opinion of Chase Calder had never been all that high, but Culley had never been able to fault him when it came to the love he had shown for Maggie.
Satisfied that he had learned as much as he would, Culley ran a last glance over the three of them standing in a loose bunch and reined his horse away. It never crossed his mind to tell them he was going. He just went.
“Come back any time, Mr. O’Rourke,” Hattie called after him, but received no response.
“How about some of that coffee,
Mom?”
Laredo asked, putting laughing emphasis on her new title.
“I’ll bring it right out. You’ll stay long enough to have a cup with us, won’t you, Jessy?” Hattie asked over her shoulder as she moved toward the cabin door.
“Of course she will,” Laredo answered for her as he glanced at the departing rider. His lips barely moved at all as he murmured to Jessy, “What do you think?”
“I think I’ve lied more in the last few days than I have in my whole life,” she replied in an equally low voice. “Sooner or later, I will get caught in one.”
“You can worry about that when and if it happens. Right now he’s the one that has me worried,” he said with a faint nod in Culley’s direction. “Will he leave or hang around?”
“It all depends on whether he believed anything we said. My guess is he will leave. But you probably should play it safe and get Chase back inside the cabin. Culley has been known to stake out a place and keep watch for hours at a time.”
Laredo thought about that a moment, then nodded in abrupt decision. “I’ll go find Chase. There’s a brush-choked draw south of here that he mentioned he was going to head for. Meanwhile, go mess around your truck and keep an eye on O’Rourke. If it looks like he’s going to circle around, honk the horn once—accidental-like.”
The two split up, with Jessy crossing to her pickup and Laredo heading into the cabin. He made sure the screen door made a loud bang when it swung shut behind him.
“Forget the coffee, Hattie. I’m going after Chase,” Laredo said and climbed out the back window.
Using as much cover as he could, Laredo worked his way around the rough slope and descended into the twisting draw. Silence was difficult to achieve as stones rolled under his feet and his shoulders brushed against branches.
The minute he rounded a corner, he saw Chase on his knees right in the middle of an open stretch. He seemed to be looking at something on the ground, but Laredo couldn’t see anything there.
“Chase,” he called to him in a hushed voice, but there was no response at all. Laredo moved swiftly to the man’s side and laid a hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing out here in plain sight? Don’t you—” He broke off the demand the instant he saw the ashen color of Chase’s skin and the sightless stare of his eyes. “Snap out of it, Chase.” He gave his shoulder a hard shake. When that failed to have the desired effect, Laredo crouched in front of him and caught hold of Chase’s jaw to force the man to focus on him. He was stunned by the clammy feel of his skin. “What the hell is wrong, Chase?”
At last Chase seemed to register his presence. Raw pain flickered in his expression. “So much blood.” He closed his eyes as if trying to shut out some image.
Laredo guessed at once that he had remembered something. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He hooked an arm around Chase and pulled him to his feet.
For much of the way back to the cabin, Laredo had to help him. Chase offered no further hints about what he had remembered, but it was obvious it had shaken him. By the time they reached the cabin, the memory seemed to have lost its grip on him. He no longer had that dazed look and his color was back. Just the same, Laredo opted not to have him crawl back through the window.
“Wait here.” He left him by the side of the cabin and ducked around to the front, immediately locating Jessy. “Where’s O’Rourke?”
“He just left the fire road and turned east. Did you find Chase?”
“He’s right here,” Laredo answered and went back for him.
Laredo’s watchful attitude toward Chase when he walked alongside him to the cabin door alerted Jessy that something was wrong. She forgot all about Culley and hurried into the cabin after them.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“He remembered something.” Laredo’s glance stayed on Chase, watching as he sat down at the table.
“What?”
Laredo shook his head. “He mumbled something about so much blood, and that was all he said. I found him kneeling in the middle of the draw, right out in the open.”
“Ty,” Jessy murmured in realization and moved to the table, lowering herself into a chair facing Chase. “You saw Ty lying there, didn’t you?”
“I saw a man. There was blood all over the front of him, and on the ground, too. God, I can still smell it,” Chase muttered through clenched teeth, the image obviously still there on the edges of his mind.
“You were the one who found Ty’s body after he was killed,” Jessy explained in a pained voice. “It was in a coulee over in the Three Fingers area. He’d been stabbed.”
“And Ty was my son,” Chase recalled. “That must be why I felt such a sick, awful fear.” He dug his fingers into his palms, balling his hands into fists of unconscious anger.
Conscious of the sudden sting of tears in her eyes, Jessy stood up. “I’d better be going,” she mumbled and moved away from the table.
Laredo’s hand gripped her shoulder, stopping her before she reached the door and turning her back to face him. “This is the first time he described what he found to you, isn’t it?” His blue eyes made a close examination of her face.
Jessy nodded and swallowed away the knot in her throat. “After Ty’s horse was found with blood all over the saddle, Chase ordered me back to camp.”
“I wish Chase had remembered something that was less painful to you,” Laredo said, the tightness of regret in his voice. “Some memories shouldn’t be shared. It’s better to remember the way he lived than the way he died.”
Just for an instant the image that Chase had impressed on her mind was replaced by one of Ty hoisting Trey into the air and laughing at his happily gurgling son.
A small smile touched the corners of her wide lips. “I do.” And the shine of love in her eyes had Laredo wishing it was meant for him.
Chapter Nine
S
itting high in the vast sweep of Montana sky, an indifferent sun blazed down on the confused young steers milling together in the feedlot. The idling rumble of the semi’s diesel engine could barely be heard above the bewildered lowing of cattle and the clatter of cloven hooves on the chute’s wooden ramp. Shouts and curses from the cowboys added to the noise as they kept the young stock moving out of the trailer and into the feedlot. Another semi loaded with cattle waited to take the place of the first.
Jessy watched the proceedings from the top rail. Trey straddled the fence next to her, totally absorbed by the action before him. When a big crossbred calf burst out of the chute and plowed into the milling mass, sending them scattering in all directions, Trey gave her a sage look.
“He’s a wild one,” he observed soberly.
“He was probably tired of being cooped up in that trailer.”
“If I had my rope, I’d catch ’im.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. He isn’t going anywhere.” Her glance strayed to the rider working with quiet calm to drift the newly unloaded stock away from the chute gate.
There was nothing about the way Laredo went about the task with which she could find fault. Jessy smiled to herself, realizing he had been right—he could pass for a feedlot cowboy. Officially this was his third day on the payroll, listed on the books as Samuel Smith. Despite the Social Security card he presented, Jessy still had doubts that it was really his name.
The last animal in the load trotted out of the chute and headed straight for its traveling companions. The semi’s diesel engine growled to life, spurting dark smoke from its exhaust stack. As the semi rumbled away from the chute to make room for the next truck, Laredo swung his horse toward Jessy and walked it to the fence.
“Morning, Trey, Jessy.” He nodded in greeting then let his glance stay on the boy, observing, “I see you left your rope at home.”
“Mom said I should.” The glumness in his expression revealed his disagreement with her decision.
“Your mom was right,” Laredo told him. His glance shifted from them, making a brief and idle sweep of the parked vehicles. “I thought Markham would be here.”
“He’s probably on his way. Somebody from the bank was flying in, and Monte had to pick him up.” Jessy was quick to notice the sudden sharpening of his gaze as he focused on something beyond her. “What is it?” She looked back.
“Isn’t that O’Rourke just beyond that semi?”
“Looks like it,” Jessy confirmed when she spotted the stoop-shouldered rider. Culley had one leg hooked over the saddle horn, a sure indication that he had no intention of leaving any time soon. “Sometimes he watches from a distance and sometimes he takes a closer look.” She was soon distracted by an approaching vehicle that she quickly identified as Monte’s Range Rover. “Here comes Monte now.” She swung off the fence and reached up for Trey. “Come on, let’s go meet Monte and the banker.”
But Trey drew back from her outstretched arms and emphatically shook his head. “’Redo’s gonna give me a ride on his horse.”
“Laredo is working.”
“No, he’s not. He’s just sittin’ there.”
Laredo spoke. “It’ll take the driver a couple minutes to get his rig backed up to the chute. Time enough to take him on a short ride around the lot,” he said as a smile spread across his face. “Besides, any boy who figures out at such an early age that bankers are boring deserves a ride.”
Amused by his droll observation, Jessy relented. “All right, you can go for a
short
ride,” she said.
Jessy lingered long enough to see Laredo lift Trey onto the saddle in front of him. To her son’s utter joy, Laredo let him handle the reins. The sudden realization that this was only Trey’s second meeting with Laredo gave Jessy a moment of pause. Although exuberant and outgoing by nature, her young son had always been leery of people he didn’t know. She had never known Trey to actually back away from someone new, but she had always had the impression that he tolerated rather than trusted new aquaintances. That was definitely the attitude Trey took toward Monte. Yet he appeared to be completely comfortable with Laredo. Recalling how much his grandfather trusted Laredo, Jessy couldn’t help wondering if Trey somehow sensed that.
Jessy turned to meet the new arrivals. Despite the black cowboy hat and boots, pearl-snap white shirt and boot-cut pants, Adam Weatherford of Denver looked exactly like what he was—a banker. Jessy wondered if it was the wire-rimmed glasses that gave him away.
“Welcome to the Triple C, Mr. Weatherford.” She shook his hand with a man’s firm grip. This was one part of her new position that she didn’t like, but, then, she had never cared much for social niceties.
“It’s good to be here, Mrs. Calder. I had the pleasure of meeting your late father-in-law a few years back. Such a tragic loss that was,” he added in a brief aside. “I always hoped I would have an occasion to visit your famed ranch. Then Monte was good enough to provide me with one.”
“I do believe the truth is out,” Monte declared with light amusement. “He made the loan so he would have an excuse to visit the Triple C at the bank’s expense. Would you like to take a look at the cattle your money bought, Adam?” With a grand sweep of his arm, he gestured to the feedlot.
“Since I’m expected to confirm we do have collateral on the hoof, that would be a good idea.” Weatherford spoke the literal truth but in a jesting manner that made light of it. “And it’s always best to get business out of the way first.”
“My thought exactly,” Monte agreed.
The two men moved to the fence and stepped onto the lower rail for a better view of the animals in the lot. Dressed as they were—the banker in cowboy duds and Monte in khaki-colored jodhpurs, a white polo shirt, and an Aussie hat straight out of the Outback—the two men looked as out of place as a pair of pelicans in the desert. Jessy joined them.
“Starting them a bit young, aren’t you, Mrs. Calder?” Smiling, the banker nodded in the direction of the small boy proudly reining the horse toward them with no assistance from the adult rider seated behind him.
“You can never start them too young, Mr. Weatherford.” Her smile took nothing away from the sincerity of her words.
“That’s Trey, isn’t it?” Monte said.
“Yes. He insisted on coming with me this morning.” And Jessy had spent too little time with the children lately to refuse him.
“Is that your son?” the banker asked with more than passing interest.
“It is indeed,” Monte answered for her and climbed to the top of the fence to greet the boy. “Hello there, young Trey.”
“Hi.” Trey waved back.
Laredo took over the reins and maneuvered the horse close to the fence where the three waited. “Sorry, buddy. This is where you get off and I go back to work.”
“I have him.” Monte lifted Trey off the saddle and onto the fence as the first steer scrambled out of the next trailer. “Adam, I would like you to meet Master Chase Benteen Calder the Third, better known as Trey. Trey, this is Mr. Weatherford from Denver.”
“How’d ya do.” Unprompted, Trey stuck out his hand.
“How do you do, Trey.” Hiding a smile, the banker gravely shook hands with him. “I see you had a good, close look at the cattle. What do you think of them?”
“They ain’t the ropin’ kind,” Trey replied. “’Redo says they’re the stand-around-and-get-fat kind.”
Monte threw back his head, releasing a rich laugh. “Well, he is absolutely correct.”
“I know.” Trey turned to Jessy, once again all bright-eyed with excitement. “Did you see me, Mom?”
“I certainly did.”
“I did good, huh?” He worked his way down the fence to her.
“Very good.”
He heaved a big sigh. “Ridin’ is real thirsty work, Mom.”
“Why don’t you go get yourself a drink,” Jessy suggested. “There’s a jug of water in the truck.”
“Okay.” Trey wasted little time scrambling off the fence and racing for the pickup.
From his watching post by the trailers, Culley observed the Calder kid’s dash to the ranch pickup, but he was more interested in how cozy the boy had been with that Laredo character. Ever since Jessy mentioned she was going to let the Englishman run fat cattle in the lot and planned to hire the cowboy to help tend them, Culley had been making a regular swing past the feedlot. Two days ago he had spotted a cowboy making repairs to the fencing. This morning he had heard the rumble of the arriving cattle trucks long before they came into view.
Until he saw them with his own eyes, Culley had been having a hard time believing Jessy intended to let somebody else’s cattle on the place. It made no more sense to him than fixing up that old line shack had. And it made him wonder if that cowboy and his ma had something on her. It seemed possible when Culley remembered how rigidly furious Jessy had looked when she talked to the cowboy after the funeral. Somehow or other the cowboy had persuaded her to meet him the next morning at the old cemetery. Culley was willing to bet that it was after that meeting that Jessy decided to stash the pair at the old line shack.
He shifted his attention to the Englishman. Maybe it was just coincidence that shortly after the cowboy showed up, the Englishman began hauling cattle into the Triple C. Or maybe the cowboy and the Englishman were in cahoots. Whatever the case, something about this whole business smelled funny to Culley.
The brown horse snorted and turned a wary eye on the semi that pulled into the unloading area with another batch of cattle. Swinging his leg back over the saddle, Culley tucked his foot in the stirrup and gathered up the reins to ride over to get a closer look at them.
Just like the previous loads, the cattle were a mixed lot, mostly young and mostly all crossbreds. And, same as all the others, they were slick, a cowboy term for an animal without a brand, sporting only ear tags.
As Culley approached the semi’s tractor, the driver climbed down from the cab. He shot a look at Culley. “How long a wait am I gonna have before I can unload?”
“Not long.” Culley fastened his black eyes on the man. “Markham buy all these cattle?”
“Got me.” The driver shrugged his ignorance. “The manifest says they belong to the High Plains Corporation. That’s all I know.”
The name wasn’t a familiar one. Making no comment, Culley simply nodded and rode closer to the chute area where there was a bit of commotion going on.
The culprit was a big black calf that had decided it preferred the trailer over the feedlot. Its attempt to reverse directions had jammed up the ones behind it, much to the exasperation of the cursing cowboys attempting to prod the animal in the opposite direction. Personally Culley admired the animal for bucking the flow. In the end, the young steer lost its battle and trotted into the feedlot with the rest.
Even though the outcome was a foregone conclusion, Culley felt oddly saddened by it. He reined his horse away from the feedlot and threw a last glance, catching a glimpse of Jessy and the Englishman, but not the other man.
“Something’s not right,” he murmured to his horse. The trouble was he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was.
Ordinarily he wouldn’t have given a damn about what Jessy did or why. But he couldn’t help wondering what Cat knew about this. With Calder in his grave, the Triple C now belonged to her as much, if not more, than it did to Jessy.
Monte leaned both arms on the top rail and surveyed the livestock in the yard with something of a proprietary air, then glanced at the banker standing some distance from them verifying the health certificates on the delivered cattle. He switched his attention to Jessy, flashing her an appreciative smile.
“It was very kind of you to invite Weatherford to lunch before he flies back to Denver. Thank you.”
Jessy shrugged off his thanks. “It would have been rude to let him leave on an empty stomach. That isn’t the way we do things on the Triple C.”
“And the ranch is, without question, famous for its hospitality,” Monte agreed and once again faced the feedlot. “The man on the chestnut, is he new? I don’t recall seeing him before.”
Her pulse skittered, making it obvious to Jessy that she would never get comfortable with this lying business. “You mean Laredo,” she said with forced evenness. “He’s going to be working here at the lot. You probably should meet him.”
When she issued a shrill, two-fingered whistle, heads turned in her direction, but she motioned to Laredo, summoning him to the fence. Only after he had turned his horse toward her did Jessy notice the way Monte stared at her in a marveling fashion.
“Astonishing,” he declared. “One day you must teach me how to whistle like that.”
“It isn’t all that difficult.” She shrugged off his comment, a little surprised that he would be impressed by something so insignificant.
Trey raced back to her side and scrambled to the top rail in time to greet Laredo when he rode up. “Hi, ’Redo. Can I ride your horse again?”