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led the door shut. She was careful not to look in his direction as she started the truck and reversed away from the cabin. When she drove away, the reflection of him standing by the track, watching her leave, was there in her rearview mirror.
Indecision had never been a problem of Jessy’s. From the time she was old enough to know her own mind, she had known what she wanted. As a child it had been to cowboy for the Triple C. After that, it had been Ty she wanted. After he had been killed, she hadn’t expected to want anything else except the health and happiness of her children.
Then Laredo had come along and disrupted the calm and settled path of her life. By the same token, Jessy knew that no man could do that unless she allowed it. But this didn’t feel like something she could control.
Promptly at nine o’clock the next morning Laredo’s truck pulled up to The Homestead. Jessy had been watching for it, expecting it, but everything inside her quickened just the same. She listened to the even tread of his footsteps across the front veranda and into the house. The instant Laredo walked into the den, her tension went up another notch. But she was too skilled at hiding her feelings behind a mask of calmness to let it show.
Conscious of the searching probe of his glance, Jessy offered no greeting. “Good, you’re right on time. Brewster’s phone number is right here.” She touched a slip of paper on the desk and rose from the chair. “You can use this phone.”
“Thanks.” But he hesitated before approaching the desk, waiting to see which way she went so he could move in the opposite direction.
His action somehow reassured Jessy that Laredo shared the same wariness of any close contact. Bypassing the wing-backed chairs that faced the desk, Jessy headed toward the door.
Laredo’s voice stopped her before she reached it. “You better stay while I make this call. If someone walks in and sees me here alone behind the desk, it won’t look right, especially with all the questions Echohawk has asked about me.”
“I’m only going to the kitchen to get us both some coffee. I’ll be back,” she told him and continued on her way.
By the time Jessy returned with an insulated carafe of coffee and two cups, Laredo was on the phone with Brewster. She poured a cup for each of them, set his on the desk, and carried hers to one of the wing-backed chairs.
There was little Jessy could glean from Laredo’s side of the conversation. He did more listening than talking, and the few questions he asked weren’t particularly informative. Twice he jotted something on the paper with Brewster’s phone number.
When he hung up, an absent frown cut a single furrow of concentration across his forehead. He waited a second or two, then gave her a thought-filled glance.
“Does the name Ben Parker mean anything to you?” he asked.
“He has a big ranch in Wyoming. Chase has known him for years,” Jessy replied without hesitation. “In fact,” she recalled, “he was the one who brought Monte to our registered stock sale. Why?”
“His name came up in my conversation with Brewster.”
“Did Brewster know Monte?” Given the mention of Ben Parker, Jessy didn’t expect Laredo’s answer to be anything other than an affirmative one.
As she expected, he nodded. “He knows him—and spoke very highly of him.”
“Now what?”
“I think I’ll call Parker. Do you have his number somewhere?”
“I believe so.”
Rising, Jessy set her cup aside and stepped to the desk, turned the Rolodex around, flipped through the cards, and removed the one bearing Ben Parker’s address and telephone numbers. She passed it across the desk to Laredo and sat back down. He punched out the numbers and waited through several rings.
Trey galloped into the den just as she heard Laredo identify himself as a lawyer and rattle off the name of a fictitious firm. Jessy quickly pressed a forefinger to her lips, asking her son for silence. For once Trey didn’t announce his arrival and simply threw himself against her legs.
“Hi, Mom,” he whispered.
“Hi.” She rumpled the top of his hair. Catching sight of someone behind the desk, he turned to look. “ ’Redo’s here.”
“I know,” Jessy replied softly. “He’s making an important call. That’s why we have to be quiet. What did you need?”
“Can I go to Timmy’s house and play? Beth said I had to ask you.”
“Where’s Beth?” She glanced toward the hall.
“Her an’ Laura are colorin’.” He wrinkled up his nose, making a face to show his opinion of that pastime. “That’s boring, Mom.”
“I know.” Jessy smiled. “You can only sit still so long, can’t you?”
“Can I go to Timmy’s?”
