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Cat took heart from that. “I said the same thing to Jessy not two minutes ago.”
“I guess they’re out lookin’ for him now,” he surmised. “Is Chase with them?”
“Yes.” Cat nodded. “He made Jessy come back to camp when they found Ty’s horse.”
He eyed Jessy with a measuring glance. “Knowin’ you, that was bound to gall a little. But I wouldn’t hold it against him. It was the way he was raised.”
“I know that,” Jessy confirmed.
“It’s the waitin’, though, isn’t it?” Ballard guessed. “It would be a lot easier to take if you were out there with them.”
> The answer to that was too obvious to be spoken. Idleness had never suited Jessy. The circumstances only made it worse.
“Don’t worry. Chase will find him,” Ballard stated. “He’ll move heaven an’ earth until he does. Isn’t that right, dark eyes?” He grinned at Laura and tickled her under the chin. She giggled with delight. He held out his hands to her. “Wanta come with me while I fetch myself a cup of coffee? I’ll bet your momma’s arm is about broke from holdin’ a big girl like you.”
Without hesitation, Laura stretched out her arms to him. At a year-and-a-half, she was already eager to make a new conquest. Jessy passed her into Ballard’s arms.
“You’re a Calder, that’s for sure,” Ballard told her as he headed toward the cookshack. “I remember when your aunt used to flirt with all the cowboys at roundup. She wasn’t but a few years older than you are then.” Laura made a grab for something in his shirt pocket, but he stopped her. “Don’t you go stealin’ my makings. In case you don’t know it, you’re too young to smoke.”
“Mine,” Laura stated.
“Nope, it’s mine. I’ll tell ya’ what, as soon as I get my coffee, you can sit on my lap and watch while I roll me a smoke. How’s that? Okay?”
“ ’kay.”
“He’s good with children.” Cat watched the pair, almost glad of the distraction. But it didn’t last. Turning, she dragged in a worried breath and gazed toward the Three Fingers. “Surely they have found him by now.”
“It’s rough country.” Jessy visualized it in her mind, trying to recall all the hard-to-see places.
“And if he’s unconscious—” Cat bit down on her lip, shutting off the rest of that thought.
An engine droned behind them. Turning, Jessy saw another pickup traveling across the open ground, but at a sensible pace. “Here comes Amy.”
“Thank God.” Cat’s voice vibrated with feeling. With brisk efficiency, Amy Trumbo stepped out of the truck, carrying her medical emergency kit. Her sharp glance searched both their faces.
“They haven’t found him yet, have they?” Amy guessed, empathy softening her expression.
Before Cat could confirm that, the cook Joe Johns hollered, “Riders coming in.”
Her heart in her throat, Jessy swung around and immediately saw a handful of riders in the distance, approaching camp at a slow lope. Exhibiting a rare show of emotion, she gripped Cat’s arm.
“Do you see Ty with them?” She strained forward, her gaze scouring the riders in search of Ty’s familiar high and wide shape.
Mutely Cat shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she murmured. “If they haven’t found him, why are they coming back?”
Jessy had a feeling she knew the answer, but she refused to say it. She picked out her father’s short, stocky shape and fixed her gaze on him.
It was an unwritten rule of ranch etiquette that a man didn’t ride his horse into camp and possibly foul the ground where other men were to eat and drink. But this was one time when the rule wasn’t observed. Instead of swinging away to the picket area, the band rode straight into camp.
“Where’s Ty?” Cat’s voice had a trace of panic in it. “Didn’t you find him?”
The other riders glanced at Stumpy. Jessy knew at once he had been the one chosen to break the news. When he ducked his head, avoiding her gaze, and climbed out of the saddle before answering, Jessy took a step backward, going cold all over.
“We found him all right.” There was such utter sadness in his eyes when he finally met her look. “I’m sorry, Jessy, but—” Stumpy tried, but he couldn’t get the words out.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” She said them for her father.
Stumpy nodded, his mouth tightly compressed, a kind of pain in his eyes.
