“Hello, Mr. Markham,” Laura issued her breezy greeting as he approached the front steps. “I thought you were my grampa. He’s coming home today.”
The vaguely preoccupied look vanished from his expression as Monte paused with one foot on the steps, his hazel eyes locking on Jessy. “Then it is true,” he said with a slightly incredulous frown. “Chase is alive.”
“Amazing, isn’t it.” The rejoinder came easily to Jessy, thanks to all the practice she’d had fielding phone calls from others seeking confirmation.
“Amazing hardly describes it,” he declared, mounting the steps. “It rightly should be called a miracle. How did it happen? Where has he been all this time?”
“In Texas, I guess. We don’t have many details,” Jessy told him. “I’m not sure Chase does, either. He has amnesia. From what Logan told me, not all of his memory is back yet. There are still parts that are missing for him.”
“What a frightening experience it must be not to know who you are or where you live.” An eyebrow arched in idle contemplation of it.
“It had to have been awful,” Jessy agreed. “We were about to sit down to lunch. Why don’t you join us?”
“It seems I always arrive at mealtimes,” Monte replied with a touch of rueful amusement.
“You can’t refuse. Mother has already set a place for you at the table,” Jessy told him.
“Yeah, if you stay, you can see Grampa when he comes,” Laura inserted.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude at such a personal time,” Monte began, then sharply turned his head to stare at the Suburban pulling into the yard.
“That’s Aunt Cat.” The words were barely out of Laura’s mouth before the significance of them registered on her. She breathed in sharply, her mouth rounding in a silent “o” of excitement as she looked up at Jessy. “Grampa’s here,” she murmured. “I gotta tell Trey.” She scampered across the veranda, pushed the door open, and stuck her head inside, issuing a very unlady-like yell, “This time it really is Grampa!”
“I think she’s excited,” Jessy said to Monte, using the comment as an excuse to observe him, alert for any hint of apprehension.
“She should be,” he declared and turned to face the drive with a look of avid interest.
Trey tore out of the house, nearly knocking Laura down in his haste. He launched himself down the steps and reached the passenger door when it opened. Chase swung his legs out. But Trey didn’t give him a chance to get out as he scrambled onto his lap.
“I knew you’d come back, Grampa,” Trey stated as Laura crowded close, seeking to claim her grandfather’s attention. “I knew it all the time.”
Jessy was content to observe the touching reunion between her children and their grandfather. Not until her mother emerged from the house, hastily wiping her hands on her apron, did Jessy remember that she should be showing some eagerness to welcome Chase home as well.
“My, but he looks wonderful, doesn’t he?” her mother remarked with a mixture of surprise and relief.
“He certainly does.” Jessy crossed to the steps, conscious that Monte remained behind.
“Oh dear, do you see that awful scar above his temple?” Judy Niles murmured.
Jessy made an affirmative sound, but she was too busy looking at Laredo as he crossed the ranch yard with long, unhurried strides. Even from this distance, she could tell it was Monte he was watching.
Almost as quickly as Trey climbed onto Chase’s lap, he scooted off it and grabbed hold of his hand to pull him out of the Suburban. “Come on, Grampa. Ya gotta see my new horse. His name’s Joe.”
“Joe. That’s a good name.” Chase stood up, a little stiff after the long ride.
“You can show him your horse later.” Jessy briefly placed a detaining hand on Trey’s head, then stepped forward to give Chase a light kiss on the cheek. “Welcome home, Chase.”
“It’s good to be back,” he told her, but each knew it was part of an act they were going through and only they knew it.
“Grampa’s not sick, Momma,” Laura informed her and tipped her blond head way back to look up at Chase. “Momma said you got ’nesia, but you remembered me.”
Jessy experienced a moment of unease, aware that Monte had to be listening to every word. But Chase simply chuckled.
“I can remember a few things, and I am very glad you are one of them,” he told Laura.
With that settled, Laura moved on to more important matters. “Did you bring me a present, Grampa? You were in Texas an awfully long time.”
Chase didn’t immediately answer and glanced at Jessy instead. “Do I usually bring presents for them?”
Jessy couldn’t tell if he genuinely didn’t remember or was merely pretending. “No, you don’t. And you shouldn’t be asking,” she admonished Laura and drew her aside, making room for her mother.
Taking no chances, she introduced herself, “I’m Judy Niles, Chase. Jessy’s mother.” She fairly beamed at the sight of him. “It’s so good to have you back with us.”
“I remember you, Judy.” Chase’s smile was wide. His glance went past her. “Is Stumpy here, too?”
“No, but I expect he will be,” Judy declared. “He’s just like all of us at the Triple C. It’s such a miracle to have you back with us that we’re half afraid to believe it until we see you with our own eyes.”
While her mother chattered away to Chase, Jessy stole a glance at Monte. He stood near the pillar at the top of the steps, looking perfectly at ease, but his gaze was locked on Chase.
“Doesn’t he look good, Jessy?” Cat murmured near her elbow, pulling Jessy’s attention away from Markham.
“He certainly does.” She smiled at Cat’s glow of happiness.
“He told me on the way here that one of the first things he remembered was Captain. A longhorn steer, for heaven’s sake.” Cat shook her head in amusement. “Isn’t that just like a Calder?”
Catching a movement in her side vision, Jessy turned her head. Monte was coming down the steps at a casual pace. She knew at once that he intended to approach Chase.
He waited until Judy Niles finished her sentence before he stepped forward. “I don’t mean to intrude,” he interrupted with a smoothness that was completely natural to him. “But I wanted to add my welcome to all the others. I’m Monte Markham.” He extended a hand in formal greeting. “I am glad that, like Lazarus, you have come back to walk among us.”
“Mr. Markham.” Chase took his hand and stared intently at him. The impression he gave was that of someone straining to recall something important.
“Monte is the Triple C’s newest neighbor, Dad,” Cat inserted in an attempt to help him identify Monte. “He bought the old Gilmore place.”
Chase responded with a slow and thoughtful nod. “It was good of you to be on hand today, Markham.”
“Sheer coincidence,” Monte assured him with a bluff heartiness.
There was a faint narrowing of Chase’s eyes. “You are in cattle.”
“Indeed, sir, I am. In fact, you were to be my guest when you returned from Texas. An invitation I extend to you again. I am very eager for you to see the herd of Highland cattle I recently imported.”
“Highland cattle,” Chase repeated.
“The finest, I assure you,” Monte insisted, then added dismissively, “But don’t let me get started extolling the many attributes of the breed. We’ll save that for another occasion. I am certain you are anxious to go inside and relax after your long flight. I won’t keep you.”
When Monte retreated toward his vehicle, Judy Niles protested, “Aren’t you joining us for lunch? I set a place for you at the table.”
“Another time,” Monte said and glanced at Chase. “Your first hours at home should be spent with family.”
“If you won’t stay for lunch, then you must come to the barbecue we are having for Chase on Sunday,” Judy insisted. “It will start at one and last until the cows come home.”
“I would enjoy that. Thank you.” Monte nodded his acceptance and continued to the Range Rover.
Laredo arrived just as Monte started up the engine. “Hello, Chase. Remember me?” A twinkle of impish humor was in his blue eyes.
Chase stared at him for a full second before he murmured with amazement, “What are you doing here?” His surprise looked so genuine that Jessy wanted to applaud.
“Working,” Laredo replied and gestured in Jessy’s direction. “Your daughter-in-law put me on the payroll.”
Chase pumped his arm with a two-handed shake. “Where is your mother? Did she come with you?”
“She did.”
“Wonderful. It will be good to see her.” Chase turned to Cat. “I may have just found the solution to the trouble you mentioned Jessy was having finding someone to take charge of the house and cooking chores. Laredo’s mother is an excellent cook, as I recall. Have you met her?”
“No.” A flicker of discomfort crossed Cat’s expression. Jessy suspected Cat was recalling her skepticism that Chase knew these people. It was a well-founded skepticism, but that wasn’t something they could tell her yet. “I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“We’ll soon correct that,” Chase said with an easy smile and glanced at Jessy. “In the meantime, you might want to talk to Hattie and see if she would be interested in taking on the responsibility.”
“That’s a good idea,” Jessy agreed. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Speaking of food, what are we doing standing around out here. Lunch is ready.” Judy Niles shooed them toward the door.
Jessy lagged behind to have a quick word with Laredo. “Chase deserves an Oscar,” she said in a low undertone.
“It was quite a performance, wasn’t it?” Laredo said with a grin. “Just about the equal of Markham’s.”
“He said he was coming to the barbecue,” she told him.
“I expected that.”
“I’m half surprised he didn’t stay for lunch.” Her glance strayed to the thinning dust cloud that lingered over the ranch lane, left by Monte’s departure.
“Right now I imagine he’s worried, not so much about what Chase might remember, but when. This is one time when Monte has to be hoping that out of sight really will mean out of mind.”
“So why would he come on Sunday?”
“I don’t know. But in the meantime, you can bet he’ll be making some plans. Stay alert.” It was more of a reminder than a warning.
“I will.” She paused, angling toward the steps. “I’d better go in. There is bound to be a fight over who gets to sit next to Grampa at the table.”
Laredo nodded his understanding. “I’ll talk to you later. And don’t worry. I’ll be sticking close by.”
As Jessy climbed the veranda steps, she couldn’t help thinking that a man with a rifle wouldn’t have to get close.
Chapter Nineteen
T
-bone steaks as large as dinner plates sizzled side by side with thick rib eyes on the massive grill. Three cowboys-turned-chefs kept watch over the meat. One was armed with a spray bottle to douse the grease fires that frequently erupted.
Smoke and heat rolled from the grill area, but nobody minded. The gathering was a celebratory one, and the mood was festive. Pennants were strung about the large gazebo near the river’s edge, their bright colors fluttering in the light breeze, while a huge homemade banner hung above its entrance. Written across it in big bold letters were the words
WELCOME HOME, BOSS!
A few of the cowboys who were musically inclined had taken over the gazebo, turning it into a country-western bandstand.
Mixing in with the laughter and constant hum of voices were rhythmic guitar strummings and lively fiddle licks, underscored by the thump of an upright bass with a harmonica occasionally taking a ride.
Most of the cowboys lounged in their lawn chairs, nursing a cold beer, alternately swapping stories and listening to the music. A couple of the older ranch hands stood guard at the beer kegs to make certain no youngsters snitched a taste. Which made a few of them more determined to do so.
As always, the women were in charge of setting out the food. Everybody brought something, usually two or three different dishes. In all, three banquet tables were set up to hold the array of salads, vegetables, breads, and desserts. The arrival of each new guest required a rearranging of the bowls and platters already on the tables.
Jessy paused to chase a fly away from the edge of a cellophane-covered dish. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a small hand reaching into the potato-chip bowl.
“No snacking before mealtime,” she admonished, quick to intervene. At gatherings the size of this one, everybody parented everybody else’s child.
“But I’m hungry.” The Simmons boy scowled in protest.
“Have a carrot.” She took a stick from one of the many relish trays and handed it to him.
He took it, mumbled a disgruntled “thanks” and walked off, none too happy with a carrot but resigned that it was the best he could do. Automatically Jessy scanned the crowd for a glimpse of the twins. She quickly spotted Trey twirling his rope a few yards from Chase. Since Chase had returned, Trey had rarely let him out of his sight.
Jessy’s gaze made another sweep over the area, but failed to locate Laura among the scattering of blond heads. If Trey had come up missing, she wouldn’t have been surprised, but she had never known Laura to wander off.
Deciding that she must be somewhere around the gazebo, Jessy started in that direction and met Amy Trumbo making her way back to the food tables. “By any chance, have you seen Laura?” she asked.
“No, I haven’t.” But the question prompted Amy to start looking for her. “Here she comes.” She pointed toward the area east of the barn that had been transformed into a parking lot.
Jessy turned, her glance instantly lighting on Laura’s familiar blond curls as she happily skipped alongside Tara. Buck Haskell trailed both of them, toting a large basket and an insulated jug. Other men had trailed their wives, laden with dishes. Yet there was something in the way Tara carried herself that made it clear this man worked for her, thus turning a simple arrival into an entrance.
As usual, Tara looked the picture of high fashion in designer sunglasses and a halter-style sundress, her black hair sleeked away from her face and secured at the nape of her neck with a filmy chiffon scarf. And there was Laura, taking it all in.
Jessy wondered how the woman had the gall to show up at the barbecue after all she had done to undermine her position. But gall was something Tara had in abundance.
“What a marvelous party, Jessy.” Tara made a regal survey of the scene. “It has been ages since this place was so decorative and festive. This reminds me of all the parties Ty and I used to throw here.”
“You’ll find this one is much more simple. We didn’t import a chef or hire a catering staff for it.” The jibe was smoothly delivered, but effective just the same.
“What a pity,” said Tara with acid sweetness. “I would have thought Chase’s return would warrant such a special effort.”
“In this case, the ranch hands are the ones who are giving the party. And they are doing it from their hearts, not their wallets. It makes it that much more special,” Jessy informed her. “Which is something you never quite understood.”
“Whereas you always have, haven’t you? After all, you were born and raised here.” Tara’s smile was all saccharine.
But Jessy took little notice of it. Laredo had moved into her line of vision. With a lifting tilt of his head, he signaled that Markham had arrived. Jessy glanced toward the barn and ranch yard, seeking to locate him.
She was quick to spot him. Never one to blend in, Monte sported a crisp white polo shirt, khaki-colored Bermuda shorts, matching socks, loafers, and aviator glasses, attire that guaranteed he would stand out in the sea of cowboy hats, blue jeans, and boots. Again Monte carried the same oversized hamper that he had brought to their picnic a few days earlier.
“What is it?” Curious to learn what had caught Jessy’s attention, Tara turned to look. “It’s Monte.” Raising her hand, she gave him a cheery wave. When he altered his course toward them, Tara murmured to Jessy, “How nice that you also invited some civilized guests.”
Tired of trading insults with the woman, Jessy ignored the remark and concentrated on Monte. A new tension strung her nerves.
After the usual exchange of greetings, which Tara managed to monopolize, Monte scanned the crowd. “Where is our guest of honor?”
“The last time I saw him he was over by the cottonwoods talking to the Garveys.” Jessy nodded in that general direction.
“I see him,” Monte confirmed.
“Isn’t it amazing to have him with us again?” Tara said. “I know everyone is greatly relieved that he’s once more in charge of the ranch.” She glanced pointedly at Jessy. “Well, perhaps not everyone. After all, Jessy did lose her job. But I’m sure she will adjust to taking orders again, instead of being the one to give them.”
“Knowing Jessy, I am certain it will be an easy adjustment,” Monte stated with total unconcern.
“Of course,” Tara murmured, making it clear she retained her skepticism. Chin high, she turned to Jessy. “Buck has a few items I had my chef prepare. I’ll have him leave them with you. But I see these tables seem to be strictly for food. Where are the drinks?”
“Over there.” Jessy gestured to the beer kegs. “There is beer on tap, and the stock tank is filled with a variety of sodas on ice.”
“Is that all?” Tara managed to inject a wealth of criticism in the phrase. In an exaggerated Texas drawl, she added, “Honey, don’t you know that a barbecue isn’t complete without a jug of margaritas? How fortunate that I brought one.” She made a graceful turn to the patiently waiting Buck Haskell. “Let me have the jug so I can personally deliver this much needed addition to the bar.” He surrendered it into her care without a word. “I’ll see you in a bit, Monte,” Tara promised and swept away while Amy Trumbo relieved Buck of the other items he carried.
“Tara is in fine form today, isn’t she,” Monte remarked dryly. “But jealousy rarely allows a person to hold their tongue.”
“I don’t think I’ll comment on that,” Jessy replied, aware that his observation was much too true, and focused on the picnic hamper. “Obviously you brought more food for us.”
“I did, indeed.” He set the hamper on the ground and began to unload it, passing the dishes to Jessy. “This time I decided to bring a sampling of traditional British fare, including shepherd’s pie and some bangers.”
“Bangers? What on earth is that?”
“I imagine the American equivalent would be a frankfurter.”
“They should be a hit with the children,” Jessy murmured absently, momentarily distracted by the sight of Chase and Hattie drifting toward the grill area.
“The man with Jessy, the one in shorts”—Hattie stole a glance at the pair, being careful not to stare—“is that Markham?”
“That’s him,” Chase confirmed without bothering to look.
“Laredo definitely won’t have any trouble keeping track of him in that outfit. He stands out like a stalk of corn in a cotton patch,” Hattie observed.
Chase laughed low in his throat. “He does that.” She sighed heavily. “I’ll be glad when this is over.”
He saw the worry in her eyes. He started to tell her that everything would work out fine, but Hattie wasn’t a woman to be taken in by empty assurances. She knew as well as he did that life came with no guarantees.
Instead Chase took her arm and steered her toward the grill, keeping upwind of the smoke. “The steaks smell good, don’t they?”
Catching his remark, Stumpy Niles turned. “Better pick yourself one, boss. We haven’t got ear tags to mark it, but we can burn your brand on it with a running iron.”
Chase froze, not hearing anything after “ear tags.” There was an almost audible click in his head, unlocking the door to a whole roomful of memories.
“Are you all right, boss?” Stumpy asked, worried by Chase’s sightless stare.
Chase blinked, and waited, but all of it was still there. “I’m fine, Stumpy.” His smile was as cool as the determined gleam in his eyes.
“Did you want to pick out a steak?”
“No need. It’s Calder beef. There isn’t a bad one in the bunch.” The remark drew grins of pride from the cowboys manning the grill, but Chase didn’t stick around to chat with them. Instead he moved away, his gaze scanning the throng until he located Laredo.
“You remembered something, didn’t you?” Hattie guessed.
“The one damned thing that has eluded me all this time.” Raising a hand, he motioned for Laredo to join him.
“Do you see Logan?”
“No.” But Hattie started looking for him.
“What did you need, Chase?” Laredo halted beside him and kept his eye on Markham, who was still by the food tables talking to Jessy.
“I think I just remembered what this is all about,” Chase told him. “When I was checking on Markham for George Seymour, I had two different people tell me they owned the same pen of cattle. Markham had brokered the deal for both of them. There was a folder in the rental car that had a list of ear tags. The banker in Texas had made the loan on one of the deals. I wanted to check my list against the one he had been given as proof of collateral to see if they matched. I wanted to be certain of my facts before I confronted Markham.”
“And he caught wind of it somehow,” Laredo surmised. “Sounds like a helluva scam—selling the same cattle to two different parties.”
“My guess is this wasn’t the first time,” Chase said. “More than likely it’s some sort of pyramid deal. A Ponzi scheme, I think they call it.”
“Ponzi.” A laugh gurgled from Hattie’s throat. “That’s the word you were trying to remember. Not Carlo Ponti.”
Laredo frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Still smiling, Hattie shook her head, dismissing the subject. “Nothing important, just a private conversation between Duke and me.”
He took her word for it. “Better track down Logan and tell him what you remember,” he said to Chase, his attention once again directed at Markham. “There he goes,” he observed, already shifting into action. “Looks like he’s headed back to his Range Rover. I’ll tag along to be sure. Go find Logan,” he said again and moved off.
Careful to stay well behind Markham, Laredo set a course that angled in a slightly different direction yet kept Markham in his range of vision. He made a quick scan of the vehicles, trying to spot where Markham had parked. As late as Markham had arrived, Laredo doubted he had found a place close to the barbecue site. More than likely it was somewhere in the ranch yard.
Laredo slipped into the maze of parked trucks, satisfied to merely catch glimpses of Markham. He never caught Markham looking around to see if he was being watched. The man simply kept walking, lugging that oversized hamper, in no apparent hurry at all to reach his vehicle.
As Laredo suspected, Markham turned into the row of pickups parked in front of the barn. Within seconds he lost sight of him. Only then did Laredo quicken his pace, but it was an automatic thing, not done with any sense of urgency.
When he drew level with the spot, he glanced down the row. There was Markham’s Range Rover, the fourth vehicle from the end. Laredo headed in the general direction of a blue pickup parked beyond it close to the corral. He kept stealing glances at the narrow walkway on the driver’s side of the Range Rover, trying to spot Markham. The closer he got, the more uneasy he became.
Markham wasn’t there, not in the vehicle or anywhere near it.
Laredo grimly scanned the entire area. There was no one around except for two boys carrying fishing poles and a tackle box. Which left only one place where Markham could be—in the barn.
That uneasy feeling turned into a full-fledged fear that manifested as a kind of anger. Laredo swore bitterly under his breath, torn between wanting to warn Chase and needing to stop Markham. Instinct told him there wasn’t enough time to reach Chase. Knowing he only had one choice, he reached inside his boot and pulled out his pistol.