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“I s’pose.” Caleb swatted at a fly and swore under his breath. “Damn things. Used to be able to get rid of them.”
“But not anymore?”
Caleb grimaced. “It’s a helluva lot tougher now.”
“So what do you use to keep the insects and the foliage in control around here?” Chase asked, his eyes skimming the fields to watch the scampering foals kicking up their heels around their sedate dams. The mares stood in pairs, head to buttocks, flicking at flies with their tails and ears.
“Whatever is available.” Caleb leaned back and eyed the younger man. “And whatever the government allows us to use. They’re getting stickier all the time.”
“No doubt about it. Used to be a time when you could use DDT or dioxin and no one cared,” Chase said evenly, his gaze flicking from the grazing mares to Caleb and back again.
“Made ranchin’ a helluva lot easier,” Caleb agreed with a lazy smile.
“Ever use the stuff?” Chase asked.
“Sure. A lot. When it was legal. But that was a long time ago. Had to get rid of all of it.”
“How’d you do that? Bury it?” Chase felt the tension in his muscles, but forced a calm expression, as if he were just making idle conversation.
Caleb’s watery eyes narrowed but he shook his head. “Hell, no. Couldn’t. Afraid it might seep out into the ground; get into the grass and then the food chain. Nope. I turned all mine in to the agriculture department. And let me tell you, it’s been hell to keep the blackberries and tansy under control ever since.” He slapped the rail and straightened, changing the course of the conversation. “So, tell me, how’s it been goin’ around here? Everything on schedule?”
“We’re a little behind,” Chase admitted, “but not much. Another couple of weeks and it’ll be over.”
“So you got through to Dani Summers?”
Chase grimaced. “No. I doubt if anyone can.”
Laughing lewdly, Caleb agreed. “A regular spitfire, that woman.” His eyes gleamed. “Come on, boy, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
“I noticed. She was the lady with the gun aimed at my gut, remember.”
“Just a little scare tactic.”
“Well, it worked. She scared the hell right out of me!” Chase took a swallow of his beer and tried to appear anything but involved with Dani Summers. It was hard not to think of her sparkling green-gray eyes and her tawny sun-streaked hair falling to her waist.
“Bah! You wouldn’t be a man if you weren’t interested in a piece like that.”
Rage flooded Chase’s veins, and his blue eyes, when he turned them on Caleb, became ice cold. “Not my type.”
“Not her husband’s, either, I’d guess,” Caleb drawled, noticing the muscle jump in Chase’s jaw. The kid was a cool one, Caleb thought as he watched Chase standing in front of him, leaning over the fence, nursing a bottle of beer, looking as if he couldn’t give one good goddamn about the conversation and yet listening to every detail. Caleb smiled to himself. Things were beginning to look up.
“Why don’t you tell me about her old man,” Chase suggested.
“Not much to tell. A bastard, the way I hear it. He sold his land to me and took off with the money and another woman, leaving Dani with a little kid and a sick mother.” Caleb ran his rough fingers along the top rail. “Like I said, that woman’s a helluva scrapper.” He paused. “Reminds me of your ma, when she was a girl.”
Chase ignored the remark. He didn’t want to think about his mother and Caleb. Not now. “So you tried to get Dani Summers’s husband to talk her into selling her farm to you.”
Caleb shrugged his wide shoulders. “Business is business. And she would’ve been better off selling. She could’ve bought a little house in town, put some money in the bank and been able to take care of her kid proper-like.”
“She’s doing a good job with the kid.”
“You met him?”
Chase’s jaw thrust forward. “Once.”
“A good kid?”
“Yeah. I’d say so.”
