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The café door opened and his father walked in. When he spi
ed where Ty was sitting, he wended his way through the tables and folded his broad frame into the chair opposite him.
“Damn, that looks good,” he said as he lifted the other glass. “Phelps talked me dry.” He referred to the owner of the ranch he’d visited that afternoon.
“Did he have any good horses in the bunch?” Ty asked.
“A couple, but he wanted too much for them.”
While they drank their beers, they discussed horses and exchanged opinions about ways of breeding out flaws. Chase drained his beer and set the glass on the table, hunching over it.
“Are you hungry?” he asked Ty. “This beer has reminded me I didn’t have lunch.”
“Yeah.” His hunger seemed to sharpen his senses, making the smells from the kitchen seem all the more tantalizing. It was almost like being around Tara, although Ty doubted that she would appreciate the comparison. “Do you suppose Mom has started dinner?”
“Why don’t you call and tell her not to fix anything?” His father leaned back in the chair, straightening and looking around the busy café. “I’ll have Sally throw a couple steaks on the grill for us. Is she here?”
“Last time I saw her, she was going into the kitchen.” He hadn’t noticed whether she’d come out.
“You go call your mother and I’ll put our order in.”
“Okay.” Ty pushed out of his chair and dug a hand into the pocket of his snug-fitting denims, pulling out a coin for the pay telephone on the wall back by the rest rooms. While he walked in one direction, his father went in another, heading for the kitchen.
Cathleen answered the telephone at The Homestead. He was obliged to talk to his six-year-old sister a few minutes before she finally called their mother to the phone.
“Is something wrong, Ty?” Her voice was tense with concern.
“Nothing’s wrong unless you’ve started dinner already,” he replied.
“Not yet. I was waiting for your father to come home before I started frying the chicken. Why? I suppose you aren’t going to be here for dinner tonight.” She answered her own question.
“No. And Dad won’t be home either,” he informed her. “I ran into him on his way home from the Phelps ranch. We’re at Sally’s now, and we’re going to grab a bite to eat, so you don’t have to worry about cooking anything for us.”
“Okay.” Maggie’s reaction wavered between pleasure because Chase and Ty were obviously getting along well enough that they wanted to prolong the time together, and uneasiness because Chase was at Sally’s. Lately it seemed he had been stopping in there a lot, or maybe she was just sensitive because things weren’t well between them.
“I don’t know what time Dad will head back, but it’ll probably be late before I get home,” Ty warned her.
“Just try to be quiet so you don’t wake Cathleen.” Her son was of an age where she didn’t attempt to dictate his hours.
“She wakes up every time I try to sneak in.” He laughed. “I’m better off stampeding up the stairs. She never hears me then.”
“Take care and drive carefully. The same goes for your father.” When she hung up, Maggie wondered why Ty had been the one to call her instead of Chase. But she didn’t want to think about that.
When Chase pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, he was greeted by the sight of Sally on her hands and knees, craning her head to look under the large dishwashing sink. DeeDee Rains, the tall Blackfoot woman who did the cooking, smiled and opened her mouth to speak to him, but Chase held up a silencing finger. Her smile broadened in understanding as he moved quietly in behind Sally and leaned on the sink.
“Did you lose a quarter?” he asked.
The unexpected sound of his voice startled her. She tried to sit back on her heels too quickly and knocked her head on the sink. She was rubbing a spot beneath the copper-red hair when she finally looked at him with accusing eyes and a forgiving smile. The kitchen heat and her exertions under the sink brought a slight flush to her pale complexion.
“I’m sorry, Sally. Did you hurt yourself?” Chase crouched beside her and reached out to feel her head where she’d banged it on the sink. His hand came away when he didn’t find any knot.
“It didn’t knock any sense into me, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she replied, not able to mask the pleasure that glowed in her blue eyes.
He noticed the wrench in her hand. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Water started gushing out of the hot-water pipe,” she explained with a heavy sigh. “Luckily it was just a loose connection. At first, I thought a pipe had broken, and I could see this week’s profits literally running down the drain.”
“Give me the wrench. I’ll make sure it’s tight.”
