Calder Storm
Page 38
Shouts came from outside, accompanied by the clump of more feet. Turning, Trey curved an arm around her shoulders, drawing her protectively to his side. “It’s all going to be fine.”
“I know,” she said.
Epilogue
Afternoon sunlight slanted through the Suburban’s windshield, heating the interior. Trey was behind the wheel, driving one-handed, with Sloan nestled close against his side, his arm around her shoulders. The east entrance was behind them, and the rugged, rolling land of the Triple C stretched on either side. With the warm feel of her against him, there was a rightness to his world again.
Trey stole a glance over his shoulder, the corners of his mouth lifting at the sight of his baby son in the carrier, safely strapped in the backseat. It was the same carrier he had angrily tossed in the Suburban after leaving the hospital without his wife and son. But Trey chose not to remember that.
“He’s still sound asleep,” he told Sloan.
“It’ll be just about time for his next bottle when we get home.” It was an idle remark, indicative of the way a new mother marked time.
“It’s going to feel like a home again with you in it.” When he looked at her, Trey didn’t see the drying bloodstains on her top, only the strong beauty of her profile and the sheen of her dark hair. “It was nothing but a big, empty house when you were gone.”
“You don’t know how much I regret that.” A thread of unease ran through Sloan’s voice. “I only hope your family understands, although I wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t—not after all the trouble I caused.”
“That was Rutledge’s doing, not yours.” Trey was definite about that.
“But I believed his lies,” Sloan reminded him.
“And I should have seen his hand in what was happening. There’s plenty of blame to go around in this,” he told her. “But it’s over now. We’ve weathered our first storm.”
“There will be others, though.” Sloan saw the potential of another one coming. She decided to face it now. “Trey, I have to know. Do you object to me having a career of my own?”
He hesitated and her heart sank. Then he said, “I know how much you love photography, Sloan.”
“That isn’t what I asked.” She kept her gaze fixed on the road ahead, pain squeezing her heart.
“Look, I don’t expect you to give it up.” There was an impatient edge to his voice, a little hard and angry. “But I don’t deny that sometimes I resent it “
Stunned, she turned a demanding look at him, ready to fight. “Why?”
“I know it’s wrong to feel that way,” Trey began in his own defense. “But, dammit, Sloan, when you have a camera in your hands, you shut everything else out—including me. It’s like you’re in another world, and I’m not part of it at all.”
Relief washed through her, eliciting a soft, amused laugh. “You don’t know how wrong you are, Trey,” she told him. “You’re there in every picture I take.”
“Right,” he replied in a voice dry with doubt.
“It’s true.” It suddenly became very important that she convince him of it. “Before Jake was born, I was updating my portfolio. That’s when I saw it. Before I met you, all my photographs have a cold and lonely quality to them, full of shadows. The ones I took afterward are filled with light and warmth. They aren’t empty landscapes, but places with people in them. They’re rich with life now—the way I am with you.”
Trey looked at her with new eyes, slightly humbled. “I didn’t know.”
“You do now.” Then it was her turn to hesitate. “Just the same, I do realize that my work may cause some problems in the future.”
“Why?” Trey frowned.
“Well, your aunt isn’t going to be there forever, running the household and entertaining all your guests. At some point—”
Trey broke in. “Good God, Sloan.” His smile was wide with amusement. “We can hire somebody to cook and clean, and if it becomes necessary, we’ll find a social secretary to handle the rest.”
“You don’t mind?” Sloan couldn’t keep the amazement out of her voice.
“I’ll mind that you’re off somewhere taking pictures instead of being with me, but I’ll survive, knowing that you’ll come back home when you’re done.”
“And I always will come back,” Sloan promised.
“You’d better.” There was that crooked smile again that raised such havoc with her pulse. “Or I’ll come after you.”
She smiled and snuggled a little closer to him. Ahead of them, rising tall against the horizon, was The Homestead in all its pillared bigness. Home. Contentment eased through Sloan with the realization that she finally had one. And a family to go with it.
All were on hand to greet them when they pulled up to the house. There was a lot of touching and hugging, along with expressions of relief that they were unharmed.
Once inside, little Jake became the center of attention. Chase wasted no time clumping to a wing-backed chair in the den and lowering himself into it. He propped his cane against the armrest and held out his arms.
“Come on. I’ve waited long enough to hold my great-grand-baby. Hand him over,” he ordered.
More than happy to oblige him, Sloan placed her son in his arms and stood back to watch. Wide-eyed, Jake frowned at this craggy-faced man holding him, but Sloan was warmed by the incredible gentleness and love in Chase’s eyes.
Beside her, Jessy laughed softly in amusement. “Doesn’t it look like he’s trying to figure out who this strange man is?”
“I’m a Calder, just like you,” Chase stated. “And I’ve got a heap of stories to tell you—like those horns above the fireplace mantel. They belonged to an old brindle steer named Captain.”
Listening to him, Trey was reminded of all the times he’d been told the story of that first cattle drive to Montana. Now his son would hear all the legends and lore of the Calders. The sense of continuity was a good feeling.
Laredo drifted over to him, feigning an interest in the sight of the youngest and oldest Calder together. In an overtone he asked, “Everything go all right after I left?”
“It went fine.” Curiosity made Trey ask, “How long have you been back?”
“About an hour. Jessy had Jobe Garvey come get me.” Refusing to be diverted, Laredo returned to his primary concern. “So the law bought the story that Donovan went on a rampage?”
“Why not? That’s what happened.” Just for a moment, Trey met the other man’s gaze—calm, cool, and sure in his lie.
“Right.” Laredo smiled to himself.
Cat bustled into the den, clutching a bottle of infant formula in her hand. “I warmed the bottle for Jake,” she rushed, then paused, half disappointed to see him lying content in Chase’s arms. “I thought he’d be hungry by now.”
“What d’ya say, little guy?” Chase asked. “Are you ready for a drink?” The response was a forceful coo and a waving of a fist that drew chuckles all around. “I think that was a ‘yes,’” Chase declared.
With some reluctance Cat surrendered the bottle to him, then gathered herself. “You two must be hungry, too. I’ll go make you a quick lunch.”
As she started to leave, the phone rang. Cat automatically turned to answer it, saying, “I’ll get it,” but Laredo waved her off and stepped to the desk, picking up the phone. “Calder ranch.”
“May I speak to Mr. Calder, please?” A male voice requested.
“Who’s calling?” Laredo was instantly wary.
“My name’s Allen Forrester, a reporter with—”
“Sorry,” Laredo cut him off. “The family isn’t taking any calls. A formal statement will be released later.”
“Could you confirm just one thing for me?” the reporter inserted quickly.
“What’s that?” Laredo waited.
“I understand a member of the Calder family was at the Dy-Corp coal mine today when Mrs. Tara Calder and Maxwell Rutledge were killed by an ex-Marine. Would you verify his name?”
; Pausing, Laredo glanced at Trey, standing tall next to his grandfather’s chair, and mentally compared the strong, rugged lines of their features. The similarities went deeper than a mere physical resemblance—it went to the heart and will.
“His name is Calder,” Laredo told the reporter. “Chase Benteen Calder.”
The sun is shining,
bringing fair weather.
Once again the Calders
are all together.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2006 by Janet Dailey
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Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2005924293
ISBN: 1-4201-1219-8