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“I’m not going to marry you. There’s too many things I want to do—too many plans I’ve made—and I’m not ready to give them up,” she stated, clearly but softly. “I never should have accepted your proposal in the first place. I w
ouldn’t have, but I was so overwhelmed by the ring that I lost my head.”
“You don’t mean what you’re saying. I love you—and you love me,” he insisted, his voice dropping with the intensity of his feelings. A raw hotness was coursing through his blood, the heat building.
“Ty, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is,” Tara flared. “Be a gentleman and accept the fact that I’ve changed my mind.” She had never been one to let her heart rule her head. It was a ruthless determination that she’d inherited from her father.
“Accept it. Just like that.” Anger raged through his low tone.
“Yes.” She was irritated with him for turning this into an emotional scene. It flashed in her eyes as she started to twist the ring off her finger.
“Keep it,” Ty declared hoarsely. He left her sitting there and walked away in a numbed state of fury and pain.
11
After miles on the strip of highway that cut across the empty reach of prairie, a handful of buildings rose into view. There was something forlorn and forgotten about them, rather like a battered suitcase left behind by a weary traveler who figured it wasn’t worth coming back for.
The ancient pickup truck slowed its rattling pace, which had never been too speedy. Not much traffic went in this direction, so Ty had been obliged to hitch a ride in whatever came by. He sat loosely in the passenger seat, an elbow crooked on the open window while he watched the buildings of Blue Moon crowd close to the highway, desperately clinging to their concrete lifeline. There was no show of recognition on his face, and the position he’d held for miles didn’t change.
The scrawny, grizzled old man behind the wheel shifted gears, slowing the springless truck more. He wasn’t a talkative man, hadn’t said more than five words since he’d stopped at the crossroads to give Ty a lift. The gray stubble of a two-day growth of beard bristled on his hollow cheeks, and his denim jean jacket and pants were faded to blue-gray, even their patches.
The only signs of life in the town were a couple of pickups parked in front of Sally’s. The grizzled driver pulled the truck off the two-lane and braked it to a groaning stop. Ty finally roused himself and reached for the door handle.
“Thanks.” He threw the man a quick smile and swung out of the cab. The old pickup truck vibrated like a jumping bean as the motor idled.
“You a Calder?” The land-worn man gave Ty a narrow, steely-eyed look.
Ty pushed the door shut and said through the open window, “Yep.”
The old man nodded satisfaction at the accuracy of his guess. “Had the look of one.” His sun-browned and age-spotted hand moved to the gearshift, an indication the conversation was at an end and he was ready to move on as soon as Ty got his case out of the back.
His bag sat in the battered rear bed of the truck, amongst loose straw, empty gasoline cans, and a dirty collection of spare parts. Ty hefted it over the side panel and stepped back, lifting a hand in salute to the driver.
The long afternoon shadow cast by the truck bounced away while Ty headed for the parked vehicles in front of Sally’s. A running wind kicked up dust swirls and chased them across the bare ground ahead of him.
There had been two ways for him to reach the Triple C. He could have arranged to be dropped off at the east gate of the ranch, but if no one happened by to give him a ride, it would have meant a long walk of roughly thirty-five miles back to The Homestead. So he’d opted for Blue Moon. Sooner or later, someone from the ranch would come by the local watering hole and he’d be able to catch a ride back.
But his luck had run better than that. One of the pickups outside the cafe-bar belonged to the ranch. Ty threw his suitcase in the back of it and climbed the steps to the entrance of Sally’s Place. The door opened before he reached it. Ty stiffened in place when he heard a throaty laugh he instantly recognized as his father’s.
“See ya later, Sally.” His father swung into view, emerging from the dark shadows of the interior to cross the threshold and step outside. He came up short when he saw Ty, surprise shooting across his face. “How’d you get here?”
“I hitched a ride from Miles City and figured I’d be able to cadge a lift to the ranch from here.” Ty wondered what kind of excuse his father had made to stop by Sally’s. He’d heard that laugh and the warmth in his father’s voice. It was plain that he was still involved with the woman.
His father moved forward, frowning. “Graduation is next week.”
“I know.” Ty swung around to descend the steps and drink in the untainted air. Another set of footsteps followed him. “I took the last of my exams yesterday. There didn’t seem to be any point to hang around for a ceremony. They’ll mail my diploma.”
He’d tolerated the sympathy and the sad looks that told him everybody’d known all along his engagement to Tara wouldn’t last, until he couldn’t stand any more. The diploma was merely a document to please his mother and prove he’d achieved the objective he’d set out four years ago to attain. Pride had been his main reason for finishing out the last term, a pride that wouldn’t allow him to crawl away and lick his wounds after Tara had broken their engagement.
It wasn’t what Ty said but the things he didn’t say, and the flatness in his voice and eyes and the lack of any reference to Tara, that clued Chase in to the reason Ty had arrived unannounced. He didn’t press for a more complete explanation as he climbed behind the wheel of the pickup and Ty settled into the passenger seat. It would all come out in its own good time.
Silence dominated the long drive to the Triple C, and Chase made no attempt to break it. They were nearly to the headquarters, the peaked roof of The Homestead thrusting its chimneys into the blue horizon, when Ty shifted his position, signaling an intention to speak.
“The engagement’s off.” Nothing more than that, and Chase didn’t pry into the reasons, regarding them as none of his business.
“I guessed as much,” he admitted and sliced a side look to his son. “I’ve never met a man who didn’t get his fingers burnt or make a fool of himself over a woman at least once in his life. Wisdom only comes with experience.”
“I suppose.” Ty turned his head to look out the window. There was no consolation in knowing he wasn’t the first or the last.
