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“He’s refusing to sign a lien waiver. He keeps insisting that we owe him for some equipment that was never delivered. Matt sent him copies of the bills of lading on all the deliveries from his firm, but he claims the equipment was shipped and we owe him for it.” Ballard paused, then added, “I thought I’d better go over it with you so you can decide how you want to handle it.”
Ty glanced at the sheaf of papers in Ballard’s hand, then back to the man’s face. “There is nothing I can do about it tonight. You should have waited until morning and saved yourself the walk.”
“You’re forgetting that I won’t be here in the morning. I’m driving in to Miles City tonight so I can pick up that load of antiques Tara bought to add to the barn’s decor.” He underscored the word with sardonic emphasis. But there was little Ty could read into that. Tara never had been exactly popular with the ranch hands. “I won’t make it back until tomorrow afternoon. By then, who knows where you’ll be.”
“You’re right. I had forgotten,” Ty admitted and turned toward the front door. “Come on inside and we’ll go over it.”
At no time during their meeting was there anything in Ballard’s manner to indicate that he had observed the embrace. Ty was left to wonder whether he had or not. It only increased his sense of unease.
Chapter Eleven
Saturdays always brought a change in atmosphere at the Triple C, tingeing the air with an underlying crackle of excitement. Routines were altered. There was a slight spring in the step of those still on duty, and a hustle and bustle in the others, eager to get the odd tasks done so they could head into Blue Moon for a night on the town.
Standing at the top of the veranda steps, Chase felt the familiar pull of it and remembered the day when he had been as eager as the next cowboy to whoop it up after a hard, long week in the saddle. These last years since Maggie died, Saturdays hadn’t been different than any other days for him. He just couldn’t summon the old enthusiasm for a night out.
There was a time when he would have gone to town a couple times a week to check on Sally. Since she’d sold the restaurant and moved to the Triple C, he didn’t have a reason to go anymore. A dry smile tugged at a corner of his mouth as it occurred to him that he was the only one who felt the way.
Chase swung away from the view of the ranch headquarters and went back inside. “Sally!” he boomed her name. “Sally!”
“I’m in the kitchen.” Her shouted answer rang above the squeals and giggles of the twins.
“She is always in the kitchen,” Chase muttered to himself and set out in its direction at a hobble, his arthritis acting up again.
When he walked into the kitchen, young Trey was struggling to climb out of the playpen while little Laura sat contentedly in the middle of it, playing with one of their toys. Jessy was busy sweeping the floor. Sally turned from the countertop, a white-speckled roaster pan in her hands.
“What did you need, Chase?” Sally questioned with mild interest.
Ignoring the question, he frowned and asked, “What’s that in your hands?”
“A roast for tonight’s dinner. Why?”
“Let me have that.” He limped over to take it from her. Sally immediately hurried to the oven to open the door for him, but Chase walked over to the refrigerator instead.
“What are you doing, Chase?” Sally stared at him with a dumbfounded look.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he retorted and opened the refrigerator door. “I’m putting this away. I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. It is time you ate somebody’s cooking other than your own.” The look of pleasure that leaped into her face made Chase wish he had thought of doing this before. “You want to go out, don’t you?” he challenged, a smile taking all the gruffness out of his voice.
“Of course, I do.” The corners of her mouth deepened in a smile that chided him for suggesting otherwise. “But I still have to put that roast in the oven so Ty and Jessy will have something to eat tonight.”
“If they want a roast for dinner, they can fix it themselves.” Chase immediately set about making space for the long roaster pan in the oven. “For all you know, they just might decide to eat in town, too.”
“Which shows how much you know,” Sally retorted. “Jessy’s parents are playing cards with the Trumbos tonight. There’s no one to baby-sit the twins.”
“And what is stopping them from bringing the twins along?” Chase countered. “It’s time they were taking them out and getting them around strangers. They need to learn how to behave in public sometime. Why couldn’t they start tonight?”
“Chase Calder, you know how raucous that place is on Saturday night. It will be packed with people, the jukebox blaring—”
Before Sally could complete her list, Chase interrupted, “You never know. All the commotion might keep them entertained. Isn’t that right, Jessy?”
Up to then, Jessy had stayed out of their conversation, preferring to be a fly on the wall while the two of them squabbled like an old married couple. Now Chase had drawn her into it.
“They are old enough now that they probably would enjoy it,” she agreed. “Trey would certainly be intrigued by all the action, and Laura would be fascinated by the music and dancing. But I don’t think we’ll go. You two deserve an evening without the twins underfoot.”
Startled by the inference that this was a date of sorts, Sally darted an anxious look at Chase. She had known him too long to believe there was anything romantic behind his invitation. And she was reluctant to have him think she might.
“That’s nonsense, Jessy,” she rushed in protest. “We wouldn’t mind in the least. Would we, Chase?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I did. We will make it a family night out,” he concluded.
