Calder Brand - Janet Dailey Page 0,99

Tomlinson, mounted the porch, and scooped Mason into his arms. “Daddy, where’s Grandpa?” the boy asked. “Why isn’t he with you?”

“Your grandpa is really sick, son,” Joe said. “The doctor is taking care of him. He’ll be home in a few days.”

“Will he be better?”

Joe shook his head. Damn, but this was hard. “No, son, he’ll still be sick. But your mother wants to take care of him at home. You can help her by being good and doing whatever she asks. All right?”

“Uh-huh.” He wriggled free and ran to his mother to get the promised peppermint stick. For Joe, there was nothing to do now but leave.

“I’ll be here to drive you on Friday,” he said to Amelia.

“No need,” she responded with a smile. “I’m sure I can find someone here to do it.”

She was baiting him. Joe bit back a curse. “I’ll be here. Plan on it.”

Without saying more, he left the porch, collected his horse from the corral, replaced the rifle in its scabbard, and took the road home.

By now it was late in the day. The sun hung low above the prairie, already touching the clouds with pale color. A red-tailed hawk circled overhead. In a nearby pasture, longhorns grazed on the rich late-summer grass.

The scene provided a peaceful end to what had been a crushing day. First seeing Sarah and meeting their son, then Loren’s stroke, the emotional trip to Miles City, and the abrupt change in his wife. In the weeks ahead, he would have no choice except to deal with it all, as fairly and rationally as he could.

The most important thing would be seeing that Mason was all right, and after that, making sure that Sarah was not in any way involved. He was already fighting the temptation to go to her and tell her about the sham his marriage had become. But that would be out of the question. He was a married man, and his wife had made it clear that she had no intention of setting him free.

If there was a chance he could prove adultery with Tomlinson . . . but no, Amelia was the mother of his precious son. Even at the price of his freedom, he couldn’t leave that stain on his family.

And unless he could marry Sarah and claim their son, the only honorable choice would be to do as she’d insisted—leave them alone.

* * *

That Friday he drove Amelia to Miles City to pick up her father. The morning was clear, the air pleasantly crisp with the first hint of autumn, but the atmosphere between Joe and his wife was one of tense silence. Going through Blue Moon in the buggy, they passed the school and its adjoining house. Risking a sidelong glance, he saw a clothesline hung with laundry in the side yard. The big yellow dog was lolling on the porch. But Sarah and Blake were nowhere to be seen. And that was just as well, Joe told himself. The sight of them would have taken his thoughts where they had no right to go.

Farther on, beyond the town, the road passed along the boundary of the Calder ranch. Everything past the line of the long buck fence, all the way to the horizon and beyond, belonged to Benteen Calder. In the distance, past the sweeping pastures, where herds of fat cattle grazed, the imposing white house, with its pillared front, rose like a castle overlooking a kingdom. Unseen from here were the outbuildings, the pens and corrals, the bunkhouses, the line shacks, and the homesteads where Calder employees lived with their families.

Joe was wealthy in his own right—in fact, he probably had more cash in the bank than Benteen did. He had long since stopped envying the Calders for their vast land holdings. But the fact that he’d never gotten satisfaction for the old wrong Benteen had done him still rankled.

Someday, he vowed, he would find a legal way to get even—a way that would leave Benteen beaten and fuming. Right now, with so much chaos in his domestic life, the thought provided Joe with a welcome distraction.

In Miles City, they met with the doctor and loaded Loren in the buggy for the trip home. He was somewhat better. He could use his right hand and walk a few steps with someone to support his weakened left side. He could take liquids through the right side of his mouth, although he couldn’t yet feed himself. His speech, though still garbled and