Read Green Calder Grass Online
Authors: Janet Dailey
Green Calder Grass (2 page)
“I’ll tell him,” Chase promised.
The high drone of a jet engine whined through the air, invading the stillness of wind and grass. Automatically Chase lifted his head and scanned the tall sky. Stumpy did the same as Chase and caught the metallic flash of sunlight on a wing.
“Looks like Dyson’s private jet.” Stumpy almost spat the name. “Coal tonnage must be down, and he’s comin’ to crack some whips. You notice he’s makin’ his approach over pristine range and not the carnage of his strip mines.”
“I noticed.” But Chase carefully didn’t comment further.
“That’s one family I’m glad we’ve seen the back of.”
Chase couldn’t have agreed more, but he didn’t say so. Ty’s marriage to Dyson’s daughter Tara had been relatively brief. Looking back, Chase knew he had never truly approved of that spoiled beauty becoming Ty’s wife, although Maggie had. To him, there had always been a cunning quality to Tara’s intelligence, a quickness to manipulate and scheme to get what she wanted. Thankfully Tara was part of the past, another subject to be put aside, but not forgotten.
Yet any thought of Tara and that troubled time always aroused a sore point. Chase had yet to obtain title to those ten thousand acres of government land within the Triple C boundaries. The memory of that hardened the set of his jaw, a visible expression of his deepening resolve.
Without another word to Stumpy, Chase walked back to the ranch pickup, climbed in, and took off in the direction of The Homestead.
A cluster of old buildings crowded close to the shoulder of the two-lane highway that raced past them. A roadside sign to the south of them, its face pockmarked with bullet holes, identified the unincorporated town of Blue Moon. Long gone was the grain elevator that had once punctuated the horizon. It had been bulldozed to the ground years ago—as had the dilapidated structures that once occupied the back streets. In their place were a few modern brick buildings, a scattering of new houses, and a trailer court to house the employees of Dy-Corp’s nearby strip-mining operation.
These were the changes Chase always noticed when he drove into Blue Moon, like the fresh coat of paint on the exterior of Sally’s place. The combination restaurant and bar had long been the sole watering hole for the surrounding area. In his youth, the site had been the home of a roadhouse complete with whiskey, women, and gambling. Prior to that, it had been a general store and saloon, established by the town’s first settler, Fat Frank Fitzsimmons.
Fat Frank was also the man who nailed up the first sign, dubbing the location Blue Moon. Local legend had it that the name was a gift from a passing cowboy who predicted failure for Fat Frank’s fledgling establishment, declaring that people came this way only once in a Blue Moon.
Blue Moon was still a place rarely visited by strangers, as evidenced by all the local license plates on the vehicles parked in front of Sally’s. Chase found an empty space and pulled his truck into it.
Sally Brogan, the restaurant’s proprietress, was at the cash register when he walked in. Her face lit up with pleasure the instant she saw him, a special light shining in her blue eyes, one that was reserved especially for Chase Calder. A widow of a Triple C ranch hand, Sally had fallen in love with Chase years ago and didn’t bother to hide it anymore, even though she knew friendship was all he offered in return.
“You’re late.” Self-consciously she smoothed a hand over the front of her apron, as if the years hadn’t added a few pounds to thicken her waist and turned her copperred hair to a striking snow-white. “Ty and Jessy were just about to give up on you and order.”
“I got on the phone and the call took longer than I expected.”
Over the years, Sally had come to know Chase in all his moods. That hard, preoccupied look to his eyes was one she instantly recognized.
“Trouble?” she guessed instantly.
As if catching himself showing his feelings a little too plainly, he threw her a quick smile, his dark eyes lighting up for the first time. “Nothing that I haven’t been dealing with for years.”
“Old troubles are always with us.” Sally came out from behind the cash register. “It’s when new ones come along that I worry.”
“You’re probably right.” Chase waited to let her walk him to the table where Ty and Jessy waited.
Out of habit, Chase ran an inspecting glance over his tall, broad-shouldered son, seated next to Jessy. The unmistakable stamp of a Calder was there in his dark hair and eyes, and in the hard, angular cut of his features. On the green side of forty, Ty was a man in his prime. Best of all, except for the sling holding his left arm, Ty was the image of robust vigor. Chase could no longer detect any trace of the sickly pallor that had lurked below the deep tan of his son’s face. There was a sense of genuine relief in that.
Beside Ty sat Jessy. As always, when Chase’s glance fell on this slender woman with honeyed-gold hair, he experienced a mixture of satisfaction and approval. As slim and long-legged as a boy, she possessed a subtle beauty that went beyond simple good looks. There was a strength and a steadiness about her that radiated an aura of calm. Jessy wasn’t the kind of woman to lead a man—or be led by him. But she would stand tall at his side. More than that, Jessy had been born and raised on the ranch. Like the rich tough grass that was the Triple C’s wealth, her roots were sunk deep in Calder soil.
A better mate Chase couldn’t have picked for his son. Or a better mother to his grandchildren, Chase thought as he took note of the protruding roundness of her stomach, made all the more obvious by her boy-slim figure.
“It’s about time you got here,” Ty declared as he slid a possessive hand across the back of Jessy’s shoulders. “Jessy was ready to faint with hunger.”
“That’ll be the day.” Skepticism riddled his response. With a nod to Jessy, Chase pulled out a chair on the other side of his son and sat down.
“I’ll get you some coffee.” Sally started to move away from the table.
“Better take our order first. I wouldn’t want Jessy keeling over for want of food.”
A small, answering smile curved Jessy’s mouth at the twinkling glance Chase sent her direction. But some shading in her father-in-law’s expression told her that he had more serious matters on his mind. She doubted that a direct question would elicit a direct answer. In that she knew her father-in-law well. Whatever was on his mind, he would get around to telling them about it in his own good time.
Instead, she waited until Sally had taken their food orders then asked, “What kept you?”
“I got tied up on the phone,” Chase replied, a telltale grimness coloring his words. He leaned back in his chair and began pushing around the silverware in front of him.
“With who?” Ty asked curiously.
Chase grunted at the question, his mouth twisting in a smile that was without humor. “Which time?” He correctly interpreted the question in Ty’s raised eyebrow. “I called to find out what progress had been made in getting title to that land—and ended up getting the runaround.”
“They’re no closer, then,” Ty concluded.
“Nope.” With that said, Chase made an effort to throw off the dark mood and flicked a finger in the direction of Ty’s sling. “I see you still have that contraption around your arm.”
“It’ll come off next week.”
“Actually,” Jessy inserted, “Ty informed the doctor that if it didn’t, he was taking it off.”
“And I meant it,” Ty stated, on the irritable side. “Four weeks of going around with a wing instead of an arm is long enough. It’s time I started using it again.”
“The doctor said he’ll need at least two months of physical therapy,” Jessy told Chase.
“Getting back to work is the only therapy I’ll need,” Ty replied.
“We’ll see.” Wisely Jessy didn’t argue the point.
Ty flashed her a look of annoyance. Then his eye was caught by the serene calm of her expression. Just the sight of her seemed to be enough to smooth everything inside of him. Almost against his will, a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.
“Okay. I admit I’ll need some therapy,” Ty conceded, “but not two months’ worth.”
Most times it was hard to tell what Jessy was thinking. She had always had a man’s way of hiding her feelings. But not this time. The glance she slid him was alive with a mischievous sparkle.
“You’re just cranky because you hate not being able to cut your own meat at the table.”
The teasing jibe was all too accurate, and brought a fresh surge of irritation. “It makes me feel like a damned child,” Ty grumbled.
Jessy couldn’t resist another little playful dig. “That’s why he ordered Sally’s meatloaf instead of his usual steak,” she told Chase.
“What about my meatloaf?” Sally returned to the table with their dinner salads and coffee for Chase.
Ty shot a warning look at his wife and replied, “Jessy was just telling Dad that’s what I ordered.”
Taking the cue, Jessy changed the subject. “Have you told Chase your news, Sally?”
“What news is that?” Chase glanced from Jessy to Sally, a mild curiosity showing.
Sally hesitated, then proceeded to refill Ty’s coffee cup. “I wouldn’t exactly call it news.” But she was careful not to look Chase’s way. “It’s just that I’ve put the place up for sale.”
“For sale.” A stunned stillness gripped Chase.
“It should hardly come as a surprise.” Secretly Sally was a little pleased by his reaction. “I’ve been talking about selling out for a couple years.”
“Talking about it is one thing.” Chase declared with a frown. “Actually doing it is something else again. What in heaven’s name will you do? You’re too young to retire.” Then another thought hit him. “Where will you live? That apartment upstairs has been your only home for years.”
“More like decades.” Sally finished the thought with a sigh. “To be honest, I haven’t decided where I’ll go or what I’ll do. And I probably won’t until I actually receive an offer. Finding a buyer for a place like this out in the middle of nowhere won’t be easy, you know.”
“I know, but—why list it for sale now?” Chase argued, struggling with a sense of loss he couldn’t name.
“Because I’m tired,” she replied. “Tired of working fifteen, sixteen hours a day, sometimes more. I’m tired of never having a vacation. And the clientele—it isn’t the way it used to be, Chase. Most of the people who come in now are rougher, coarser.”
His expression darkened. “Has somebody stepped out of line?”
“With
me?”
A laugh bubbled toward the surface even as she glowed at the implied compliment. “Chase, I’m not a young redhead anymore.”
me?”
A laugh bubbled toward the surface even as she glowed at the implied compliment. “Chase, I’m not a young redhead anymore.”
“Just the same, if someone isn’t showing you the proper respect, I want to know about it.”
“Of course.” Suddenly this entire discussion was becoming painful and Sally couldn’t explain why. “Would you like more water, Jessy?”
“Please.”
But Chase wasn’t about to let her slip away so easily. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Sally?”
She paused. “Chase, when you don’t like your work anymore, it’s time to quit. With any luck, one of the guys working for Dy-Corp has a secret dream about owning a bar and will take this place off my hands. Lord knows they get paid high wages out there.”
“If this is what you want, Sally,” Chase began, clearly unhappy with her decision, “I’ll spread the word around that you’re looking for a buyer. But—it won’t be the same here without you.”
She could have told him she wasn’t necessarily leaving the area. She could have told him a hundred different things, but the words wouldn’t come. Something in his remark had a ring of finality, and it knifed through her. At that instant, Sally knew that she had always secretly feared that if she ever sold the restaurant, she would never see Chase again, that he wouldn’t come see her elsewhere because that would start talk. His comment had all but confirmed it.
“I appreciate your help, Chase.”
When Sally moved away from their table, Jessy wondered if she was the only one who noticed the sudden welling of tears. Every time Jessy observed Sally and Chase together—and the love for the man that shone in Sally’s eyes—it tugged at her heart. She had loved Ty from afar for too many years not to understand and empathize with the ache of that.
The memory of those times prompted Jessy to reach up and caress the strong hand resting on her shoulder, simply because she was his wife and she could. Tara was gone now; no longer did she have Ty caught under her spell.
The front door to the restaurant burst open, followed immediately by the
bang
of the screen door slamming shut, as loud as the crack of a rifle. Jessy jumped in her chair and half turned in her seat, her glance racing to the entrance.
bang
of the screen door slamming shut, as loud as the crack of a rifle. Jessy jumped in her chair and half turned in her seat, her glance racing to the entrance.
Something inside her froze at the sight of a slender woman with sable-dark hair. It was Tara, chicly dressed in some blue concoction that looked straight off the pages of a high-fashion magazine.
Maybe it was the old fear that made Jessy dart a look at Ty. She observed the flash of surprise on his face—and something more, something like the pull of attraction. The anger of old resentment and dislike knotted Jessy’s stomach.
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