CHAPTER TEN
M ASON COULD HAVE WALKED OUT OF THE ROOM AND LEFT C OLUCCI’S woman to wake up on her own. Pride tempted him to do just that. But he was concerned about Ruby. He’d heard about people with head injuries who went to sleep and never woke up. He resolved to stay, at least until the doctor arrived, which he hoped would be soon. Now that he knew the truth, he could scarcely look at her without imagining her wearing that dress with the silk stockings and the wispy drawers, in Leo Colucci’s arms.
Ruby stirred, whimpered, then sank back into sleep. What would he say to her if she were to wake up? Nothing, he decided. Her relationship with the mobster was none of his business. As for that fleeting kiss he’d given her, she would never know about it.
As he settled into a padded armchair, a leaden mood crept over him. After the tension-filled night, which had ended with nothing gained, it was as if his energy and excitement had drained away, leaving him hollow inside. With the slow passing of time, he fell into a doze.
A loud rapping on the door jarred him awake. Ruby had opened her eyes and was struggling to get up. Mason pushed himself out of the chair. “That would be the doctor,” he said. “Stay where you are. I’ll get it.”
He strode to the door and opened it. The man who stood on the threshold was well over six feet tall, with wavy hair, a fleshy build, and heavy, handsome features. He was dressed in a tailored suit, his shirt collar loose, without a tie.
Mason had never seen him before, but he knew at once that this wasn’t the doctor. The man had to be Leo Colucci.
Ignoring Mason, Colucci strode into the room. Ruby’s eyes were like a cornered doe’s, wide and nervous. She sat up and slid her legs over the side of the bed.
“Are you all right, Ruby?” Colucci demanded.
“Just a sore shoulder and a bump on the head. The doctor should be here soon to check me.” Ruby kept her voice level. “You probably know that I crashed the plane and lost the cargo. This gentleman, my customer, pulled me out of the cockpit and drove me here. You owe him your thanks.”
As Colucci turned toward him, Mason thought fast. Ruby had just given him an opening. He’d be a fool not to seize the advantage.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Colucci,” he said, extending his hand. “Mason Dollarhide. We’ve spoken over the telephone.”
“Yes, I know.” Colucci accepted the handshake. “The old man spoke highly of you. He’s the reason I agreed to work with someone I hadn’t met.”
“I want you to know that the crash wasn’t your pilot’s fault,” Mason said. “The engine stalled in midair. She had to glide the plane down. If the landing strip had been longer, she would have made it fine. But the extra weight of the cargo—”
“I understand,” Colucci said, cutting him off. “When she’s ready to fly again, it will be in a more reliable airplane. Meanwhile, as Ruby said, I owe you my thanks. I’m guessing you’ll need a replacement for that lost cargo.”
“The sooner the better,” Mason said. “But I could sell a lot more than I’m getting. I’ve got an ideal setup for receiving—a natural cave for storage and an airstrip that’s on ranch property but remote enough to be out of sight. All I need to grow the business is more product.”
Colucci looked unconvinced. “I’ll keep you in mind. I’m still building up the supply lines. But at least I can replace your missing cargo in the next few nights. The pilot will be a young man. He’s new but already proving himself. Someone will let you know when to expect him.”
The conversation was interrupted by a polite tap on the door. Mason opened it for an elderly man with thick glasses and a cane. The black bag he carried identified him as the doctor.
“You can go, Mr. Dollarhide,” Colucci said. “I’ll take over from here and make sure the lady is looked after. We’ll be in touch.”
Mason had little choice except to make a polite departure. For the briefest instant, his gaze met Ruby’s across the room. Her expression was like a cornered animal’s, pleading, almost frantic. But she wasn’t his problem, he reminded himself. He turned away without a second look and walked out of the door.
* * *
When Joseph discovered four Triple C steers among the Dollarhide cattle in the north pasture, he knew without being told what had to be done. With the help of his well-trained horse, he cut the four branded animals out of the herd and headed them back toward Calder land, riding behind to hurry them along.
If the Calder hands missed their steers and came looking for them, things could get ugly fast. There was probably a fence down somewhere. Joseph would find it, herd the steers through the gap, and take time to mend it with the tools that were part of his everyday range gear.
The days were getting shorter now. On the mountains, the aspens were turning to gold below the timberline. The first flocks of geese were starting their journey south, their long V formations crossing the sky.
On a day like this, being outdoors was a pleasure. Joseph didn’t mind cowboying. Anything was better than spending time in the sawmill. But inside him, the deep discontent was still churning.
A few mornings ago, as he rose before dawn to start his chores, Joseph had heard the drone of an airplane flying low over the house in the direction of the Hollister Ranch. Rushing to the porch, he had tried to spot the plane, but he was too late. The sound had faded into the distance. After a few seconds it had stopped altogether.
Was Mason Dollarhide up to his old tricks, getting his contraband liquor shipped in by air this time? After the trouble his natural father had gotten him into five years ago, Joseph wanted nothing to do with Mason and his shady ways. But the throb of the engine as the plane passed overhead had set his blood on fire.
As punishment for his airborne adventure, Joseph had been confined to the ranch and sentenced to mucking out the stables for a week. In addition, Blake had forbidden him to mention flying or airplanes in his hearing—ever. Joseph knew when to toe his father’s line. He’d been on his best behavior since the punishment ended. But that couldn’t change his desire to become a pilot. Somehow, when the time came, he would find a way.
Now he was coming up on the property line, one of the few places where the Triple C and the Dollarhide Ranch came together. Along most of their borders, the two rival ranches were separated by other holdings—Angus O’Rourke’s ramshackle place in the foothills and lower down, the horse pastures owned by Logan Hunter, the man who’d married Blake Dollarhide’s sister, Kristin. But here the demarcation was marked only by a barbed wire fence. To cross onto Dollarhide land, the four steers must have come through the fence in this area. The break shouldn’t take long to find.
Fifty yards ahead, Joseph could see the fence. But somebody was already mending the downed wire. As he rode closer, herding the steers toward the opening, he recognized Chase Calder, son of Webb Calder and heir apparent to the Calder ranching empire.
Seeing Joseph with the missing livestock, Chase waved and moved the wires aside so the steers could pass through the damaged fence. Returning the wave, Joseph herded the animals back into their pasture. Then, turning his horse, he rode to where Chase was righting the tilted fence post before reattaching the loosened strands of barbed wire. Both young men were tall and dark, but Chase was older, his build huskier, while Joseph’s body was still filling out. Years ago, the two had been good friends. They’d since grown apart, drawn by separate lives and the bitter rivalry between their fathers. Still, their relationship was cordial enough for Joseph to dismount and offer his help.
“Could you use an extra pair of hands?” he asked. “I can steady that post and hold the wires for you.”
Chase looked up and grinned. “Thanks. And thanks for herding those steers back home. I had other plans for the morning, but this emergency couldn’t wait. Your help just may have saved my day.”
Wearing his gloves, Joseph thrust the post deep into the hole and held it upright. “By any chance would those other plans include a girl?” he teased.
“They might.” Chase filled in around the post with dirt and rocks, packing it tight. “I just hope she’ll be waiting when I finish this job.”
“Anyone I know?” Joseph had met a pretty brunette at a dance a couple of weeks ago—Lucy Merriweather was her name. Lucy had mentioned that she and her father were guests of Webb Calder’s. Maybe Lucy was Chase’s new love. If so, that was too bad. Things had cooled between Joseph and Annabeth since the night she’d brought up marriage. If Chase hadn’t staked his claim, he wouldn’t mind romancing Lucy himself.
“Is it Lucy you’re seeing?” he asked.
Chase laughed. “Nope. Lucy’s a bit too prim and proper for me. You’ll never guess who it is.”
“I hope that means you’re going to tell me. I need to know which girl I should leave alone.”
Chase picked up a loose section of barbed wire and pulled it into a taut line. “All right.” He paused, heightening the suspense. “It’s Maggie O’Rourke.”
Joseph couldn’t suppress an outraged gasp. “You mean Culley O’Rourke’s little sister? Chase, she’s just a kid—what, fifteen maybe? And she wears her brother’s hand-me-downs.”
“You’ve never seen what she looks like under those baggy old clothes. She’s a beauty.”
Joseph held the wire in place while Chase hammered it to the post. “The O’Rourkes aren’t exactly your class of people,” he said to Chase. “Does your father know about this?”
“No, and he’s not going to find out.”
“So you’re not interested in Lucy?”
“If you can impress the girl, she’s all yours.”
“I know she and her father are staying at your place. How long will they be around?”
“It might be a while,” Chase said. “Lucy’s father, Nigel, has been hired to build an airstrip for my dad. Once it’s done, along with the hangar, Dad plans to buy a couple of planes. Then we’ll be able to fly in and out of the ranch.”
Joseph’s pulse broke into a thundering gallop. This was like his first glimpse of a dream. Whatever the cost, he had to pursue that dream. “If your dad’s getting planes, he’s going to need pilots,” he said.
“We’ll have to hire somebody at first,” Chase said. “But next year, Dad’s going to send me to flight school. Then I’ll be able to pilot the planes myself.”
Chase’s words triggered an emotion in Joseph—a feeling so painful and fierce that it felt as if his guts were being tied in knots. Why did things seem to happen so easily for some people? Here was Chase, accepting the privilege that Joseph had dreamed of, yearned for, and would have to fight for.
But he couldn’t give in to envy, Joseph told himself. All he could do was try to use this small opening.
“I’d like to know more about the project,” he said. “Who knows, maybe an airstrip would be a good thing for our ranch, too. Is there any way I could meet Lucy’s father? That way, maybe I could get to know Lucy as well.”
Chase tightened another wire and hammered it into place. His silence was beginning to dampen Joseph’s hopes when, at last, he spoke.
“I guess you could come to dinner tomorrow night, as my friend. My father might grumble, but he’d be a gracious host. Your father, on the other hand, wouldn’t like it at all. He might not even allow you to visit us.”
“My father wouldn’t have to know,” Joseph said. “I could make something up, like going to see a girl. Or I could just leave. I’m not a twelve-year-old kid anymore, even though my father treats me like one.”
“All right, I’ll ask my dad.” Chase finished attaching the last wire, bagged his tools, and strode to his horse. “I’ll call and leave you a message. Either way, you’ll know what it means.”
“Thanks.” Joseph watched him ride off in the direction of the O’Rourke place. He tried to remember little Maggie O’Rourke from the last time he’d seen her in town—a slip of a girl with fiery eyes and a wild mane of black hair. She could be a beauty, Joseph conceded. But she was so young and most likely innocent. What could Chase be thinking?
* * *
The Calder dining room had gone almost twenty years without a woman’s touch, and it showed. Mounted hunting trophies—bear, bison, and moose—decorated walls that wanted a good whitewashing. The linen tablecloth was worn, the china plates chipped here and there, the silver tarnished. An open wine bottle stood in the middle of the table, in defiance of prohibition laws. A drop that had trickled down the outside of the bottle left a crimson stain on the cloth.
All the same, Joseph was impressed. An air of power made up for any lack of elegance. It was a power that emanated from Webb Calder at the head of the table, like the aura surrounding a Viking chieftain or a medieval king.
Chase sat on his father’s left with Joseph next to him. Mr. Nigel Merriweather and his daughter sat facing them on the other side. Nigel, whom Joseph had glimpsed with Webb at Jake’s restaurant, claimed to have emigrated from Britain after the war. He was lean and pale, with the studied air of an aristocrat. His affected manners and speech struck Joseph as overdone, like the massively ornate gold ring he wore, in the shape of a bird; but the man did appear to know a great deal about airplanes, especially British planes. Joseph had come here to learn, but the daughter distracted his attention again and again.
In this drab, masculine setting, Lucy Merriweather bloomed like an English rose. Her lavender gown seemed to float around her slender figure. Its color set off her porcelain skin, dark hair, and sparkling hazel eyes. Her smile—and she smiled often, mostly at Chase—showed dazzling white teeth.
Clearly she had her eye on the heir to the Calder fortune. Her father probably had the same idea. Maybe Webb did, too. Lucy was the very picture of a suitable rich man’s wife. But Chase’s thoughts were elsewhere—on a ragged Irish girl as wild as the birds that woke the morning with their cries.
Joseph was doing his best not to stare, but with Lucy sitting directly across from him, it was hard to take his eyes off her. He was scarcely aware of the delicious beef stew and fresh bread he was eating. Only one thing was clear in his mind. This was no time to be timid. If he wanted this chance, he had to be bold enough to take it—even if it got him slapped down.
Lucy was laughing at a joke Webb had made. Her laugh was charming and genuine. Joseph couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was the most enchanting girl he’d ever seen. The fact that her father was in the airplane business was the icing on the cake.
Not that it mattered. Lucy’s father could have been a junk dealer or a traveling snake oil salesman, and Joseph would still have been smitten. But when he looked across the table at Lucy, he saw his dream—a dream that would never be his unless he reached for it.
“When do you expect to have the airstrip finished, Mr. Merriweather?” Joseph asked, putting down his fork.
Nigel sipped his wine. “We’ll do as much as we can this fall. But it probably won’t be finished until spring. That’s when we’ll buy our first plane and hire a pilot.”
“I’d be interested in seeing how you get the land ready for the planes and how you build the hangar,” Joseph said. “In fact, if you need a worker, I could make myself available. I’ve been interested in flying for a long time. I might even become a pilot myself.”
Webb cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine your father would let you get involved in this project, Joseph—especially here with us on the Triple C. You’re his only son. He needs you at home, to run the ranch and that accursed sawmill. He can’t spare you to go gallivanting off to build airstrips and fly planes.”
“My father doesn’t own me.”
Webb chuckled, an unpleasant sound. “That’s where you’re wrong, boy. And it’s what you’ll learn as you grow older. You think I had any say about what I wanted to do with my life? You think Chase does? Hell, he’ll do what I tell him to, won’t you, son?” He gave Chase a stern look. “And you’ll do the same with your old man, Joseph. It’s called life. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Joseph cringed inside like a whipped dog. He’d never had a reason to hate Webb Calder, not the way his father did. But he hated the man now.
It was Chase who broke the tension. “Dad, I promised Joseph I’d show him the filly I’m raising. May we be excused?”
“Fine.” Webb’s eyes narrowed. “After that, I believe your friend will be ready to get into his car and head for home.”
Ignoring his father’s words, Chase smiled at the girl across the table. “Would you like to come, too, Lucy? I know you like horses.”
“I’d love to.” Lucy stood, then glanced across the table at her father. “Is it all right, Papa?”
Nigel hesitated, then gave her a nod. “I suppose it would be more enjoyable than sitting here with a couple of stuffy old men. And I’m sure these two young gentlemen will treat you like the lady you are. Right, Chase?”
“Certainly, sir,” Chase said. “Come on, let’s go.”
Chase led the way out of the dining room, opening the front door to let Lucy pass through ahead of him. Joseph followed them across the graveled yard to the nearest stable, one of several on the property. This stable housed the most prized horses among the Calders’ vast remuda.
The stable had recently been wired with electricity. Chase opened a door and switched on the light. Horses were drowsing in their roomy box stalls, shifting and blowing. The air smelled of hay and fresh manure.
If Joseph hadn’t had his eyes on Lucy, he would have taken more time to admire the splendid animals. In the largest stall, he recognized Cougar, the majestic, claybank stallion that Webb Calder rode on the range. Several other mares and geldings here were Cougar’s offspring. There were even two fine quarter horses, raised and trained by Logan Hunter, the rancher who was married to Joseph’s aunt Kristin.
Chase had moved ahead with Lucy to a stall at the far end of the stable. Joseph lengthened his stride to catch up with them. Looking over the gate, he could see a bay mare nursing her leggy four-month-old filly—a yellow claybank, probably another of Cougar’s babies. The mare and her young one made a charming pair.
Petite Lucy stood on tiptoes, stretching in an effort to look over the gate.
“I can’t see them,” she complained. “Could somebody give me a boost?”
“Sure,” Joseph said, thinking that he and Chase could lift her together. But when he looked around for Chase, there was no sign of him.
Lucy gave him a flirtatious smile. “Chase had someplace to go. So I guess you’ll have to be the one to help me.”
The truth struck home, triggering giddy flutters in Joseph’s chest. All this had been a plot to get him alone with Lucy. And Lucy had been one of the plotters.
This was a dream come true.
Bending, he scooped her up, lifting her high enough to see over the stall gate. She was featherlight, her curves settling nicely into his arms. A moment passed before he realized that she wasn’t looking at the horses. She was looking at him, her gaze softly mischievous, her mouth barely a fingerbreadth from his own.
Joseph had intended for the meeting of their lips to be brief, almost chaste. To kiss Lucy the way he’d kissed Annabeth would have been way out of line. Lucy was a lady, and he couldn’t afford to be hasty with her. But as her baby-soft lips met his, and he felt her response, a shock of arousal passed through his body. With a whimper of pleasure, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her fingers twined in his hair. He could feel her heat as the kiss deepened. His pulse hammered. His breath was as harsh as a runner’s.
Flushed and panting, they separated. As he lowered her feet to the straw floor, the promise of that kiss and all it held left him dizzy with hope. Beautiful Lucy held the key to his dream. If he played his cards right, with no mistakes, she could be his. And his father wouldn’t have anything to say about it.
But his future could depend on her father’s goodwill. It would be wise to tread carefully. “I think I’d better see you back to the house, Lucy,” he said, offering his arm. “I’d like to see you again if your father would allow it. He should know that I come from a good family. We have a ranch, a sawmill, and plenty of money, if that’s a concern to him.”
“I know about your family.” She took his arm and let him walk her out of the barn. “So does my father. He’d probably allow you to call on me. But he’s working with Webb Calder, and Webb doesn’t like Blake Dollarhide—or his son.”
“I’m not my father. I’m nothing like him.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” Her clasp tightened on his arm as they crossed the yard. “This isn’t a good time to speak to my father. He wants to stay in Webb’s good graces. But meanwhile, we can find ways to be together. The harvest festival will be coming soon. There’ll be a dance in town. I could meet you there. And maybe we’ll get other chances. I want to be with you, Joseph. I’ve been thinking about you ever since we danced together.”
They were nearing the house. Joseph burned to take her in his arms and kiss her one more time. But they were standing in full moonlight, and now Chase was walking across the yard toward them.
“I’ll take over from here,” he said, offering his arm to Lucy. “I hope you two had a good time.”
Lucy giggled and accepted Chase’s arm.
“I’ll be on my way,” Joseph said. “But I owe you a favor, Chase.”
“I’ll remember that when the time comes.” Chase’s grin flashed in the moonlight as he turned to escort Lucy back to the house.
Joseph watched them disappear through the front door. He could have sworn there was air under his feet as he walked back to the car. He’d viewed lovely Lucy as a lady. But she was more than that. She was a warm, passionate woman.
He could hardly wait to see her again. But he couldn’t allow his eagerness to make him reckless. Lucy was too important for that. And her father’s goodwill was equally important.
He started the old Model T and drove out toward the gate. Damn Webb Calder for dashing his hopes at dinner tonight and making him look like a fool in front of Lucy. But he would show all the people who tried to stomp on his dream of becoming a pilot. Webb, his father . . . Someday he would show them all.
* * *
Marissa lay slumbering in her bed, her cherubic face lit by a shaft of moonlight that fell through the window. She had made a full recovery from the fever. Once more, she’d become her lively, small self, playing, laughing, singing, and jumping into her father’s arms to give him kisses.
Britta stood in the doorway, next to Jake, watching the little girl sleep. To thank her for her help, he’d invited her over for a roast beef supper, delivered by the restaurant. It was a nice gesture, but now, as they stood together, looking in on the little girl she was coming to love, Britta was reminded again of what she would never have.
Jake was grateful to her, that was all. When he chose a new wife, it would be someone young and gay and pretty. Not a shy, bumbling moose of a woman who was only at ease with her students. Even when he’d shown some interest, Britta knew he hadn’t loved her. If he had, he would have made more of an effort to win her. He would have waited.
She turned away from the bedroom door. “Thank you for the meal, Jake,” she said. “I’ll repay you by clearing the table and washing the dishes.”
“Don’t bother,” he said. “The restaurant will send somebody to collect the dishes and wash them. They do the same thing when I’ve got a prisoner in the jail downstairs—only, the food is more likely to be beans or mutton stew.”
“Then I suppose I’d best be going.”
“Stay, Britta,” he said. “It’s a nice evening, and I don’t get much company up here.”
“Something tells me you could have all the company you like, Jake.” It was a waspish thing to say, and Britta regretted the words as soon as she’d spoken them.
“Then something told you wrong. I happen to be choosy about the company I keep.” His hand found the small of her back and guided her out through the parlor doors to the landing that served as a porch, with stairs coming up from the rear of the jail to provide a private entry.
The sky was clear, with a glory of stars overhead and a moon that cast long shadows across the yard. He stood behind her, his breath warm on the backs of her ears.
“I never got a chance to tell you how much I admired you for taking that plane ride,” he said. “Not one woman in a hundred would be brave enough to do that.”
“You’d be surprised what women would be brave enough to do,” she said. “We’re brave in ways that you men don’t even notice. Bringing children into the world and raising them. That’s an act of courage in itself, one I’ve never experienced. Maybe that’s why I went up in the airplane. I had nothing to risk, and no one to mourn me if I died.”
“Your life isn’t over, Britta. You’re still young. And you have the most generous, loving heart I’ve ever known.” His fingers toyed with her braid, which she always wore tightly coiled atop her head. “Your hair was down the night of Marissa’s fever. I was too worried to pay much attention, but I remember that it was glorious.” He tugged at the pins that held the coils in place. The braid fell loose, hanging down her back, almost to her waist.
As his fingers unraveled the plait, Britta felt the heat stir and rise from the depths of her body, the low pulsing, the hunger between her thighs. Was that what Jake had in mind? She knew it was wrong, but she knew that she still loved him. What if she never got another chance?
Would that be enough? Would it be all she deserved in this life?
His hands lifted the curtain of her hair. Britta felt the soft pressure of his lips on the back of her neck. Resisting, she pulled away and turned to face him.
“Don’t play games with me, Jake. If that’s what you want, find a woman who’s willing to settle for your offer. But I won’t let you use me. I’m worth more than that.”
“I know what you’re worth, Britta.” His voice was thick and husky, his eyes hooded in moonlit shadow as he pulled her close and kissed her tenderly on the mouth.
She melted against him in surrender, his kiss heating her blood. But as her arms went around him, a voice from below broke them apart.
“Woo-hoo! If it isn’t Miss Anderson! Having a good time, are you?”
A trio of sixth-grade boys—Britta’s students—stood in the yard below, grinning up at her. Before either she or Jake could speak, they scattered, vanishing into the dark.
Britta knew them to be mischief makers. Worse, the mother of one boy was a vicious gossip. By midmorning the delicious story, with embellishments, would be all over town. She would be a public disgrace. She might even lose her job.
“Britta, it’s all right—” Jake reached for her, but she backed away.
“No, it isn’t all right! You can’t imagine—”
Breaking off, she spun away from him, stumbled down the outside stairs, and fled across the yard for home.