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“It’s an easement grant, all right,” Ty agreed smoothly. “Thirty foot wide, but this legal description doesn’t give me a clear idea where it’s located. I’m sure you’ll agree, Sheriff, that we want this legal. The government wouldn’t want its people traveling over a road they don’t have a lawful right to be on. I’ll hire a surveyor to come out and verify exactly where this easement is located. Of course, that’s liable to take some time.”
Blood vessels stood out in the sheriff’s neck as he struggled with his anger. “You think you’re so damned smart, don’t you?”
At the moment, all Ty had accomplished was to buy some time. “I’m just abiding by the law.”
“A real respectable citizen, aren’t you?” the sheriff mocked and turned smug. “In addition to that paper you’ve got in your pocket, I have another one. It’s a warrant for your arrest.”
His chin lifted a challenging inch. Behind him, Ty could hear the rumble of protest from his men. “On what charge?” he demanded.
“Assault with a deadly weapon, malicious destruction of property, inciting violence—I have a whole list of them,” the sheriff assured him.
“That’s a pack of lies,” Ty snapped.
“A judge will have to decide that.” He smiled. “Now, are you going to come along with me peacefully, or do I have to add resisting an officer to the list?”
“No!” Cat rushed forward, angrily charging between them. “You aren’t taking him anywhere!”
“Cat.” Ty caught her arm and pulled her out of the way. “They can’t hold me. I’ll be out on bail within a couple of hours.” He pushed her gently into their uncle’s waiting hands, then turned to the long, slim woman standing just to the side. “Jessy, call Silverton for me and let him know about this easement and these phony charges.”
“I will.”
“Ty, you don’t understand!” Cat strained to break free of O’Rourke’s hands. “Culley, explain to him,” she demanded angrily.
“Hush, girl,” Culley warned her in a low voice. “Or the sherif’ll end up carting the three of us away. Then what help would you be to your brother?”
She stopped fighting his grip and stood rigid, watching as Ty walked to the police car. The sheriff ordered him to turn around and handcuffed his wrists together behind his back.
“This isn’t necessary, Sheriff,” Ty muttered at the grate of metal being tightened on his wrists.
“I handcuff all my prisoners. That’s the lawful procedure,” he chided and pushed Ty’s head down as he slid awkwardly into the rear passenger seat.
As the police car pulled away with its prisoner, Cat spun around to glare at the ranch hands. “Why didn’t you do something? Why did you let them take him?” Few of them would look at her.
A mobile-home trailer in Blue Moon had been converted into a payroll and accounting office for the mine. Dyson had commandeered the manager’s front office as his base of operations, from which he directed his legal and tactical maneuverings against the Triple C Ranch.
At the end of his phone conversation, he rocked back in the swivel desk chair and eyed the room’s other two occupants with a self-satisfied look. “Ty is safely locked away in his jail cell. And the sheriff can hold him for twenty-four hours, actually”—he glanced at his watch—“twenty hours before he has to release him or officially file charges and let him post bail. How opportune that tomorrow is Saturday.” The gleam in his eye revealed the timing had been deliberately calculated. “Now, as long as the judge plays his part and sets bail at some outrageously high figure, it will be Monday before Calder can either get it reduced or make arrangements to meet it.”
“You don’t have to worry about the judge.” The calm assurance came from Stricklin, his head slightly bent while he buffed his nails.
Tara broke her statuelike vigil at the small trailer window and swung toward the desk, her eyes dark with appeal. “Is it really necessary for Ty to be in jail?”
“The quickest way to win a battle is to separate a general from his troops. Loyal as they may be, without guidance they aren’t going to know what to do,” her father explained tolerantly. “I have a little over three days, more than enough time, to force the easement rights to be honored. By Monday, we’ll have machinery on the land and it’ll all be over but the shouting.” There was a slight pause as his expression took on a sternly irritated look. “That impudent husband of yours will be wiser for the experience.”
Stricklin rose from his chair, announcing casually, “I’m going to stop by the sheriffs office and make sure everything is going smoothly.”
“Suit yourself.” Dyson shrugged his indifference, but his eyes narrowed shrewdly on the man as he left the room. “I don’t know what’s got into him lately,” he murmured. “He’s constantly checking and rechecking every detail.”
“He’s always been particular about everything.” Tara saw nothing different in him, her impatience showing for a subject so far removed from her interest.
“Not like this.”
“Daddy, what if I went to see Ty?” she suggested somewhat eagerly. “I could talk to him—reason with him.”
“Let me explain something to you, Tara Lee.” Dyson got up from his chair and walked around the desk to affectionately place his hands on her shoulders. “Right now he’s going to be upset and frustrated over being locked up. He wouldn’t listen to anything you have to say. But he’s going to have three days to do nothing but sit and think. Afterwards, he’ll be more than willing to admit the mistake he’s made.”
“Why did he have to do this?” Tara protested to no one, impatient with Ty’s actions and worried, too. There was no doubt in her mind that her father would ultimately triumph, but she didn’t want Ty’s position to be completely ruined in the process. If they were ever to achieve anything, he had to come out of this with something.
A fly walked across the stubble of his beard as Ty lay on the bare mattress of the jail-cell cot, his hands pillowed under his head and his hat cocked low on his forehead. He shifted, withdrawing one hand to chase the tickling fly from his face. It made a circling buzz over him to pick out its next landing site.
