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She felt the curious probe of his gaze. Earlier she would have hesitated before sharing Laredo’s secret with him. But kissing him had changed all that.
“It’s the hell of loving someone when you feel you don’t have the right,” she confided.
“And we are talking about whom?” Chase questioned.
“Laredo and Jessy.”
His head lifted in sudden understanding. “The wind is blowing that way, is it?”
“If you have a problem with that, tell him now, Duke.” It wasn’t a request. The firmness of her voice had it bordering on a threat.
“It’s not my decision to make,” Chase replied. “For either one of them.”
Hattie smiled, the worry easing from her. “You are smarter than I thought.”
“I’m glad you realize that.” There was an unspoken longing in the way his gaze moved possessively over her face. “I guess we might as well turn in, too. If I have trouble getting to sleep this time, at least it will be for a different reason.”
She laughed, feeling that exhilaration of a new love found, and hooked her arm in his. Side by side, they walked to the cabin.
Chapter Thirteen
The afternoon sun blazed hot and strong on The Homestead’s towering facade. Inside, the hum of the air conditioner kept a steady flow of cool air circulating through the den. After a chaotic morning full of phone calls and endless comings and goings, the house was blessedly quiet.
Taking advantage of the lull in activity, Jessy retreated to the den to see if there was any ranch business that needed her attention. She had barely sat down when the front door opened. Mentally crossing her fingers that it wasn’t someone who wanted to talk to her, she continued going through the stack of telephone messages. But the quiet footsteps in the hall came straight toward the den.
Jessy looked up when they stopped at the doorway. Monte Markham stood in the opening, dressed in a pair of chinos and a plain white shirt rather than his usual jodhpurs and boots. His finely drawn features wore a look of concern.
“The house was so quiet, I had almost decided no one was home,” he said and hesitated. “Hav
e I come at a bad time for you?”
“Of course not. Come in.” She rose from the chair and came around the desk to greet him. “I was going through my messages to see if there was anything urgent that needed to be handled. There wasn’t. You heard about Sally,” she guessed.
“Yes. This sorrow doesn’t seem to end for you. I am so sorry, Jessy.” There was a mixture of compassion and understanding in his expression.
“Thank you,” Jessy murmured automatically.
His mouth curved ever so slightly. “How many times today have you heard the same words and answered the same way? Quite a few I would imagine.”
Her smile was wide in admission. “After a while, it becomes something of a reflex.”
Monte nodded. “I understand.”
“I think you do.” That surprised her a little. Yet, on reflection, she realized he was sensitive that way.
“Dare I ask where everybody is? I expected to see more vehicles parked outside when I drove up.”
“There were quite a few people here earlier.” But nowhere near the numbers that had descended on The Homestead when news of Chase’s death had spread. Nearly all of them were ranch women, come to offer their help in whatever way they could. Sally had been well liked, but she wasn’t Chase Calder.
“Have you decided when the funeral will be?”
“Day after tomorrow,” Jessy replied. “Cat is handling all the details. As a matter of fact, she and Amy Trumbo are down at the cemetery selecting a burial site now.”
The mere mention of Cat’s name made Jessy feel uncomfortable. Cat had been cool to her when she’d arrived that morning. Fortunately there were others around, so nothing was said. And no one appeared to notice there was any strain between them.
“I am glad you don’t have to handle that responsibility. You have strong shoulders, but you are already carrying a heavy load running this ranch,” Monte observed. “I wish there was something I could do to help, but I know there is nothing.”
“The thought counts for something,” Jessy replied, feeling suddenly mentally weary.
