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The closer he got to the light, the bigger and brighter it became. It reminded him of the glow from a city, reaching out to dim all but the brightest stars. As near as he could tell, it was coming from the area of that old windmill not far from Antelope Butte. If he remembered right, Cat had said something about Tara planning to build a house out here. But that still didn’t solve the puzzle of the light.

Less than a mile from its source, Culley reined his horse to a walk. The rolling terrain still blocked his view, but he began to pick up the low rumble of machinery.

Following a fold in the plains, he worked his way around to approach the site from the far side of the bluff. The noise was louder now, the light reaching out to deepen the shadows around him. Turning cautious, Culley pulled his horse up behind a low rise and dismounted, dropping the reins to ground-tie the gelding. On silent feet, he moved toward the rise.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice drawled on his right. “If it ain’t Culley O’Rourke himself.”

Culley froze on the spot. With a fractional turn of his head, he swept his gaze over the shadows, searching for the owner of that voice he couldn’t quite place. There was a whisper of movement, the grass against a leather boot. Culley zeroed in on the sound just as a figure separated itself from the darkness. The reflected glow from the other side of the rise touched the face of an old man. The features weren’t quite the same, but Culley was quick to recognize that grin. It could only belong to one man—Buck Haskell.

Even after identifying him, Culley didn’t venture a reply. He remained motionless, fully alert and fully aware of the rifle casually cradled in Buck’s arm.

“You know you’re trespassin’, Culley,” Buck remarked idly and strolled into the open.

“What’re ya’ gonna do about it?” Culley watched him with care.

“I guess it depends on whether you came to make mischief or not.”

“I saw the glow.”

Nodding, Buck glanced toward the light. “It’s kinda hard to miss.”

“You can see it for miles.” Culley didn’t take his eyes off Buck. “What’s makin’ it?”

“Giant floodlights,” Buck replied easily. “Come on. We’ll take a look.”

Veering to the side, Buck started up the low rise. Culley let Buck take the lead then followed, keeping a little distance to one side of him.

Culley didn’t bother to climb all the way to the top, just far enough to have an unobstructed view of the other side. A half-dozen huge floodlights, mounted atop towering poles, surrounded a work site. The blinding brilliance of them made the entire area bright as daylight. Culley stared at the men and machinery in constant but unhurried motion. Accustomed as he was to the softness of night sounds, the racket of revving engines and droning generators was loud to his ears, even at this distance.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Buck remarked.

“How come they’re workin’ so late?” That’s what puzzled Culley.

“The duchess decided she wants the house done by fall, so she put the construction on a fast track. Work goes on twenty-four hours a day. And not just here either,” he added. “Instead of ferryin’ all the lumber here by chopper, crews in Blue Moon are buildin’ the framework there so it can be flown out in sections and set in place. In a couple weeks, they figure to be puttin’ the finishin’ touches on the outside and goin’ full bore on the inside.”

Culley frowned. “The duchess?”

Buck smiled crookedly. “That’s what I call Tara. She’s definitely the queen bee around here.”

“I heard you were workin’ for her.”

“To tell you the truth, O’Rourke, I’v

e never had an easier job or better pay.”

Culley continued to scan the area before him, not content until he finally spotted the windmill’s black skeleton silhouetted against the night just beyond the reach of the lights. His curiosity satisfied, he turned and headed down the slope toward his horse.

“You aren’t leavin’ already, are you?” Buck chided.

“Already seen what I came for.” In Culley’s thinking, there was no more reason to stay.

“I guess you gotta rush off and report this to Calder.” Buck’s voice sounded closer, an indication he had trailed him down the slope.

“No need. He’ll find out soon enough on his own.”

“I reckon he will. Don’t you know he’ll be mad when he does. He figured to slow her down by not letting her cross Calder land. But it just kicked the duchess into high gear.” After a slight break, Buck said, “Still hate him, do you?”

“I let him be, and Calder lets me be,” Culley replied without emotion.

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