Calder Brand - Janet Dailey Page 0,113

she asked.

“I did not.”

She looked up at him. “You don’t sound unhappy about it. Did Benteen beat you to the bank?”

“No, he didn’t.” Joe found himself grinning.

“So what happened? Who bought the ranch?”

He bent and kissed her warm lips. “That,” he said, “is a very long story. I’ll tell you over supper. How’s Blake?”

“I kept him home today because of the snow. He’s doing his schoolwork,” she said. “I know you must be hungry. I can have supper on the table in a few minutes.”

She pulled away from him a little, but he drew her back, holding her inside his coat. “This feels good. Let’s just stay like this for a minute. Then we can go inside.”

They stood at the rail, holding each other. In the west, the sun was going down, streaking the sky with glorious ribbons of flame, mauve, and indigo. They watched as the colors faded into twilight.

This was all that mattered, Joe thought. Not owning more land, and not even getting even with Benteen Calder. More was an empty word when you already had it all.

He might not have the most, but he had the best. As far as Joe was concerned, he was the richest man in Montana.

EPILOGUE

Summer, ten years later

“RACE YOU TO THE GATE!”

With those words the two riders were off, horses thundering the length of the grassy pasture. Seated on his aging buckskin, Joe watched his two sons from beyond the fence—Blake, lean, dark, and quick like his father; Mason, younger and huskier, with chestnut hair and his mother’s green eyes. They were evenly matched, as were their horses, first one leading, then the other, until they finished the race in a dead heat, pulled up at the fence, then turned and went back to working cattle.

Joe had always hoped that if he raised his boys together, they would be friends. He had been honest about their relationship from the start, reasoning that letting them grow into understanding would be kinder than surprising them when they were older. He’d never regretted that decision, but as for the two being friends . . .

Joe shook his head as they rode off in different directions. It wasn’t that his sons were enemies. In most respects, they got along fine. But they were fierce competitors, each one always trying to outdo the other.

Mason still lived on the Hollister ranch with his mother, who was already teaching him the business. But the ranch had been a lonely place for a growing boy. He’d spent a good share of his time at Joe’s, where he had his own room, his own horse, dogs to play with, and a loving stepmother who treated him like her own son.

It was Joe who’d taught the boys to fish, to hunt, and to cowboy. But even when they were young, everything had to be a contest—who could catch the most fish, shoot the biggest buck and skin it the fastest, who could be the best at roping a steer or breaking a horse. Joe had little doubt that the competition would continue for the rest of their lives.

“I see they’re at it again.” Sarah had ridden up beside him on her palomino mare. With her, on a pinto pony, was their daughter, Kristin, who’d come as a delightful surprise nine years ago. Fair like her mother, she was pretty, smart, and almost as competitive as the boys.

“I’ll bet I could beat both of them if you’d let me race,” she said. “And I’ll bet I could rope a calf, too, if you’d let me go on roundup.”

“Wait till you’re older,” Joe said. “Those brothers of yours play rough. You could get hurt. And those cowboys on the roundup, the way they talk, they’re no fit company for a young lady.”

Kristin tossed her braids. “I wouldn’t care. And I don’t want to be a young lady. Boys have all the fun.”

Joe reached out and gave her a hug, then gave Sarah a longer one. Time went by so fast. Before he knew it, the boys would be grown and making their own way—like Benteen’s son Webb, who was already a man. Everything seemed to be changing in this part of Montana. Blue Moon was a real town now, and a new land rush was happening as immigrant homesteaders moved in to take advantage of free farmland.

Joe was still in his thirties, but he had seen so much, so many changes, that sometimes he felt old. What new things were coming? He was in no hurry to find out. The best time was now, on this land, with these precious people. It was enough.