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“Just remember you need your sleep, too. Studying won’t do you any good if your brain’s too tired to take it in.” With that bit of wisdom delivered, he started to turn away, then swung back, pinning his gaze on her. “Who’s tending the stock out at the Cee Bar?”
“Nobody, I guess,” Dallas replied absently, already turning her attention to the subject before her.
“It wouldn’t bother Rutledge if they went hungry,” Empty muttered, unaware that Dallas had already tuned him out. “He’d probably like it if they starved. Then he could report it to the authorities and cause more trouble for the owners.”
Dallas made an agreeing sound, without having heard a word he’d said.
“What time you got to be at the feed store in the morning?” he demanded suddenly. “Eight o’clock, isn’t it?”
“Eight?” She gave him a blank look, then his question belatedly registered, and Dallas nodded. “Yes, eight o’clock.”
“I’m gonna need to use the truck tomorrow, so I’ll take you to work in the morning.”
“Fine,” she said and went back to her studies.
All was dark, shadows lying thick around the buildings, when Quint pulled into the Cee Bar ranch yard. The single-story house stood off by itself, half hidden under the enveloping shade of a live oak. Quint parked the sedan in front of it, retrieved his duffel bag from the trunk, and crossed to the covered porch that ran along the front.
The door was unlocked, making the spare key in his pocket needless. Quint stepped inside and felt along the wall for the light switch. Finding it, he flipped it on. Light spilled from an overhead fixture, illuminating the center area of the living room while leaving its corners in shadow.
His gaze traveled to the old stone fireplace along the wall. Soot from countless fires stained the front of it, revealing its age. Quint wandered over to it, ignoring the creak and groan of the uneven floorboards when they took his weight.
Idly he ran a hand over the wooden mantelpiece and smiled, recalling the winter holidays he’d spent here when he was eleven, and the many stories his grandfather had told him about the ranch. Quint felt the swirl of history around him.
And it was Calder history. The origins of this ranch and its house dated back to the Civil War era when it had been the home of Seth Calder and his son, Benteen—the same Benteen Calder who had eventually driven a herd of longhorns north to Montana and established the Triple C Ranch.
Well over a hundred years had passed since a Calder had lived on the Cee Bar. That seemed wrong somehow.
Pushing that thought aside, Quint turned from the fireplace and the past, focusing once again on the job he had come to do.
Chapter Three
Wakened by a rooster’s crow shortly after dawn, Quint rolled out of the strange bed and padded into the hallway. The floorboards creaked companionably under his bare feet as he made his way to the closet-sized bathroom off the hall. He wasted little time relieving himself and washing the sleep from his eyes. Back in the bedroom, he pulled a clean set of clothes out of his duffel bag and put them on.
Leaving the rear bedroom, he headed for the kitchen where he’d left the coffeepot and dirty dishes soaking in a sink full of sudsy bleach water the night before. There was just enough coffee in the canister to make a pot. He spooned some into the basket filter and made a mental note to add coffee to his grocery list as he thoroughly rinsed out the now mold-free glass pot.
After plugging in the coffeemaker, he filled its tank with water and listened to it gurgle to life. Just as he poured his first cup, the telephone rang. Quint crossed to the wall-mounted phone and lifted the receiver.
“Cee Bar Ranch.”
His mother’s familiar voice responded, “I was hoping I wouldn’t waken you.”
“You didn’t,” he assured her. “As a matter of fact, I’m drinking coffee and making a grocery list. The cupboards here are bare.”
“What are you going to do for breakfast?” she asked with instant concern.
“I’m looking out the window at a bunch of chickens scratching in the yard. There’s bound to be some eggs somewhere out there waiting to be gathered.”
There was an element of relief in her soft laughter. “Sometimes I forget how resourceful you’ve always been.”
“Now you’ve been reminded.” Affection gentled his voice. “I thought you would have left for Laura’s wedding by now.”
“We’re about to walk out the door, but I wanted to call you first and tell you good-bye.”
“Let Laura and Sebastian know I’ll be thinking about them.”
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“I will. And you take care of yourself down there.”
