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“Mmm.” Max grudgingly had to acknowledge the truth of that. “We’ll have to do something about that.” The gavel fell, stopping the bidding on the black horse, and a scattering of applause from the barn reached them. Max stuck the cigar between his teeth and checked the sales catalog on his lap. “You’d better get in there. That filly we want is coming up right after this next yearling colt.”
When Laura rode the horse out of the ring, one of the ranch hands, Ken Garvey, waited outside the gate for her. “Good job,” he said, catching hold of the bridle’s headstall. “He went for a good ten thousand over our top estimate.”
“Blackie sold himself.” She dismounted and passed him the reins.
“After you showed what he could do.” He looked at her with an approving smile.
Praise was never idly handed out on the Triple C; it had to be earned. Laura accepted it with a simple, “Thanks,” and headed for one of the barn’s side exits.
Once outside, she paused to push the brim of her hat lower and shield her eyes from the sun’s bright glare, then started toward the tent. She hadn’t taken more than a dozen steps when she ran into Tara.
“This is shaping up to be one of the most successful sales the Triple C
has had to date,” Tara announced, her expression aglow.
“It is, isn’t it?” Laura agreed.
Tara’s tone turned a touch wistful. “I wish your father were here. He and I put together the very first auction the Triple C held.” She turned a loving look on the towering structure before them. “You should have seen this old barn before we started renovating it. There was a century of grime covering everything. It’s amazing how varnish can reveal the true beauty of those old hand-hewn timbers.”
“How true.” It was a story Laura had heard countless times in the past, but she never bothered to remind Tara of that. The auctions had always been a nostalgic time for Tara, and Laura knew that she was the only member of the family with whom Tara shared her recollections of those long ago days.
“Your father and I worked so well together. We were truly partners,” Tara recalled somewhat absently. “It was one of my happiest, most fulfilling times. I told Ty these auctions would turn into one of those not-to-be-missed events. And I was right.” Breaking free from her memories, she turned to Laura, her dark eyes bright and shining with triumph. “Did you notice? This time we even have some Hollywood celebrities in attendance?”
“They are hard to miss.”
“Their presence will only bring more people to the next one,” Tara stated with certainty. “You might suggest to your mother that prior to the next auction she contact some of the publicity agents for the major stars and see if she can’t encourage more to attend.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll do it.”
“By the way,” Tara said as she tipped her head toward Laura in a confiding manner, “the Texas crowd has been abuzz ever since you arrived at the party last night on Boone’s arm. And you can be sure they noticed the way Max practically dotes on you. You two are definitely the couple of the moment. It’s hardly surprising, though. With Boone so dark and you so fair, you make a striking couple.”
“I suppose we are,” Laura agreed, fully aware of the stir they created, and the way heads continued to turn every time she was with Boone.
“Believe me,” Tara declared, “you are going to start receiving a horde of invitations from Texas. But don’t accept a single one until you’ve spoken to me. It’s important that you be highly selective about which ones you accept, if any. It will only enhance the whole Calder mystique that’s out there.”
Laura frowned. “I don’t think I understand your reasoning.”
“Darling, if you should decide to marry Boone, people need to realize it’s a marriage of equals. And when the day comes that you and Boone throw a party of your own, they’ll come in droves.”
It was a tantalizing picture that Tara painted in her mind. With no effort at all, Laura could see herself in it. The practical side of her surfaced to remind Laura that standing here talking about it wouldn’t make any of it come true.
“Speaking of Boone,” she began, “is he still at the tent with Max?”
“As a matter of fact, I just passed him going into the barn.” Tara replied. “If you want, I’ll let Max know that’s where you are.”
“Thanks,” Laura said and moved away to retrace her steps to the barn.
The sudden loud blast of a horn stopped her, its harshness out of place amid the auction’s steady hum of voices. She threw a look around to identify the source. Her searching glance landed on an old blue pickup with scratched paint and dented fender parked off to the side, away from the expensive vehicles. She probably wouldn’t have thought much about it except that she saw a child’s head bob up in the cab, then turn and look out the rear window.
One glimpse was all Laura had before he disappeared from sight, scooting down in the seat, but she immediately recognized the little boy from the bar.
“Hey, Sis.” Trey walked up, leading a red roan filly. “What are you staring at?” he asked, turning to look.
“Do you see that truck? There’s a little boy in it. I swear he’s the same child that Mitchell guy was shoving around at Harry’s. What would Mitchell be doing here?”
“I think we should find out. It’s for sure he isn’t here to buy horses.” Eyes narrowed, Trey scoured the immediate vicinity, then shifted his attention to the rows of parked cars.
Laura spotted him an instant before Trey did. “There he is.” She nodded at the man, trotting into view from behind the caterer’s truck parked next to a second smaller tent used as a food prep station. His attire alone, faded jeans and a wrinkled plaid shirt, set him apart from the others in attendance.
