Page 35 of Calder Strong (The Calder Brand #5)

T HE NEXT S ATURDAY MORNING , J OSEPH DROVE DOWN TO THE CATTLE pastures.

For the past few days, after delivering Hiram to the bunkhouse, he had purposely stayed away, giving the old cowboy a few days to take charge.

Would he find conditions as slipshod as they’d been when Blake was bossing the ranch? That remained to be seen.

There was no one at the bunkhouse to meet him. But when he stepped inside, he found the bunks made, the trash cleared out, the floor swept, and the dirty clothes waiting for the laundry service in a basket by the door.

In the stable, the stalls had been cleaned, the feeders filled with hay, and the floors covered with a layer of clean sawdust from the mill.

Outside, he shaded his eyes and scanned the pastures. At first he saw only distant grazing cattle. After a few minutes, he spotted a rider. He beckoned with his hat. The rider waved and turned his horse to head in. As he came closer, Joseph recognized Andy, the youngest of the cowboys.

As the young man came within speaking distance, Joseph walked out to meet him.

“Boss.” Andy touched his hat.

“How’s it going with the new man?” Joseph asked.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Just okay?”

Andy laughed and shook his head. “Hell, it’s like bein’ in the army.

Out of bed afore sunup, chores done, bunkhouse clean.

Stable mucked out. Check every animal and every inch of that damned fence.

If you run out of work, find somethin’ else that needs doin’.

And boy howdy, you don’t talk back to the old man, or you’ll wish you hadn’t. ”

“It’s called a job, Andy. I’m not paying you to sit around when there’s work to be done. If you don’t like it, you can pack your gear.”

Andy sighed and nodded. “Got it, Boss. And the place does look a whole lot better. The old man’s even helped me with my ropin’. Says he wants me sharp by roundup time.”

“Speaking of Hiram, where is he now?”

“Out in the east pasture with the heifers. You want me to get him?”

“Yes. Now.”

Andy kicked his buckskin horse and headed off at a gallop. A few minutes later, Hiram rode up and swung out of the saddle with the ease of a younger man.

“Is everything all right, Boss?” he asked.

“It looks that way. But I’m going to need extra help today. Is everything ready for the new bull?”

“The pasture fence is sound. The heifers are ready, and the older gals are waiting for their turn. When do we pick up the big stud?”

“Today, I hope. But there’s been some confusion about the shipping arrangements. The station agent in Miles City can’t find the records of when he was loaded. So the bull may or may not come in today. The agent will phone me if he learns anything more. But I have another problem.”

“A problem?” Hiram raised an eyebrow in question.

“Not really a problem,” Joseph said. “But the woman who owns Jake’s is throwing an engagement party for some friends of mine this afternoon. I need to make an appearance to show goodwill.”

“So how can I help?”

“The trailer for the bull is hitched behind the truck, ready to go. If the call comes while I’m gone, and the bull’s going to be on the afternoon train, I’ll need you to drive the rig to the restaurant and pick me up. From there, we can go straight to Miles City.”

“So should I wait for the call at the house?”

“If you’ve got time. Otherwise, Patches can take the call, but then he’ll need to get word to you.”

“I’ve got it, Boss. I’ll plan to be at the house.”

“Fine. I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour.”

After a stop at the sawmill, Joseph returned to the house in good spirits.

He’d been wanting to improve the herd’s bloodline; and the new Hereford bull, which he’d bought from a big ranch out of Missoula, was the offspring of champions.

The cost for such an animal was five times what his father would have paid.

But Joseph was in charge now, and he wanted the ranch to be more than a moneymaker.

He wanted quality. If he was going to raise Dollarhide cattle, they would be the best.

After a light lunch, he left Hiram to wait for the phone call and set out for Jake’s.

By the time he arrived, the parking lot was crowded with vehicles.

People were going in and out of the door.

Francine had kept to herself and wasn’t well-known in the town, but everybody knew Chase Calder and wanted to meet his future bride.

Joseph saw an opening and slipped inside. He hadn’t been keen on coming to the open house. But it was a gesture of goodwill to the couple. And since people knew he’d been courting Francine, staying away would have given the impression that he was sulking.

Francine and Chase were greeting guests at the end of the bar.

Radiant in the apricot silk gown she’d worn at the dance, Francine was basking in the role of the future Mrs. Calder—smiling, shaking hands, repeating the names of people who appeared important enough to be remembered.

Chase looked as if he wanted to be somewhere else, but he was doing his best to be gracious.

Joseph congratulated them both and moved on. Plates of spice cake with brown sugar icing and glasses of cider were set out on a buffet table. Joseph had picked up a glass and taken a sip when Hiram walked in through the open door. Joseph caught his attention and beckoned him over.

“We got the phone call,” Hiram said. “The bull’s on the 3:15. If we’re not there before the train pulls out, he’ll be unloaded into one of the stock pens. The rig’s outside, ready to go.” He eyed the plates of cake arranged on the buffet table. “My, but that cake does look good.”

“Help yourself,” Joseph said, glancing at his watch. “We’ve got a few minutes to spare, enough time for you to enjoy a piece of cake and some cider.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Hiram selected a plate of cake and a fork. “I suppose, since I’m here, I should congratulate the happy couple. Could you point them out for me?”

“Over there, by the far end of the bar,” Joseph said. “You’ve doubtless heard of the Triple C Ranch. That man is Chase Calder. He owns it. And his lady—”

The words broke off as Joseph saw the frozen expression on Hiram’s face. He was staring at Francine as she stood next to Chase.

“Is something wrong?” Joseph asked.

“Lord help me,” Hiram muttered. “I know her.”

He set the plate of cake back on the table. Francine had clearly seen him. Her eyes widened. Her smile vanished. She turned swiftly away.

“Come outside with me,” Hiram said in a low voice. “I need to tell you something, and I don’t want to do it in here.”

Joseph followed Hiram outside. They stepped off the porch and moved around the corner of the restaurant.

“You say you know her?” Joseph asked.

“From St. Joseph. A bunch of us cowboys would go into town after we got paid. There was a dance hall there—fancy front for a whorehouse. High prices, but the girls were young, pretty, and clean.”

“And she was there?”

“She went by Sally. Prettiest one of all.”

Joseph shook his head in shocked disbelief. “You’re sure?”

“Hell, I paid top dollar for her services a couple of times. With that little mole by her mouth and some other things I won’t even mention, I’d know her anywhere. Do you think her intended knows?”

“I’ll bet the bank he doesn’t,” Joseph said. “Damn, I’ve got to tell him. Chase is no friend of mine, but he doesn’t deserve this.”

“Please.” Lola stepped around the corner of the building, her black mantilla shadowing her ravaged face.

Her hand seized Joseph’s arm, the fingers gripping like claws.

“Can’t you let the past be the past?” she pleaded.

“I brought my sister here to give her a chance at a new life. Now she’s found love. Please don’t ruin her happiness.”

“So she’s your sister.” Joseph loosened her grip and lifted away her hand. “At least now I understand why you care so much. But you’re talking to the wrong man, Lola. The only one who can decide whether to put Francine’s past aside is Chase. He needs to be told.”

“Please! I’ll pay you—both of you—to keep the secret. How much do you want?”

Joseph glanced at Hiram before he spoke. “What good would that do, Lola? One man’s already recognized her. There are bound to be more. You can’t buy all of them.”

Lola glared up at Joseph. “Damn you to hell, Joseph Dollarhide,” she muttered, defeated.

“Nobody wants to make a scene,” Joseph said. “Do you want to send Chase out here, or do I have to get him myself?”

“I’ll send him out.” Lola pivoted and went back into the restaurant.

“I’ll be in the truck,” Hiram said. “Having to look at me won’t make it any easier on the man.”

Chase stepped outside moments later. “Lola says something’s wrong,” he said. “Tell me.”

Joseph knew better than to be gentle with the news. Chase took it without flinching. He was a proud man. There was no other way. But Joseph could see the subtle signs—a glint in his eye, the twinge of a muscle in his cheek. The truth had hit him hard.

Had he loved Francine, or was it his pride that was crushed? Either way, Joseph didn’t relish seeing his rival brought low. Chase wasn’t a man to give his heart easily. He deserved better.

“I’m sorry, Chase, but you needed to be told,” Joseph said.

“Yes. You’ll understand why I’m not thanking you. I’ll take it from here.” His voice, like his face, was expressionless.

Having nothing more to say, Joseph climbed into the truck, started the engine, and headed for Miles City to pick up the new bull.

“Tough break for a man,” Hiram said. “How did he take it?”

“About like I expected,” Joseph said. “Like a Calder.”

One of the hardest things Francine had ever done was to stand next to Chase while the party played out—smiling and chatting with guests, knowing all the while that he must hate her.