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He didn’t have to be told that talk would fly now. By the time they arrived at the ranch, news of Sloan would have flashed to its farthest corners—and likely beyond. In some ways, that suited Trey just fine since it would eliminate the need to explain who she was and why she was there. Everyone would know he had staked claim to her.

Chapter Eight

The setting sun slipped below the western horizon, leaving the sky awash with swirling streamers of crimson and salmon. Its colors tinted the wide-open plains while evening shadows crept into the hollows, accenting their rolling pitch.

Reaching forward, Trey flipped on the pickup’s headlights, throwing new illumination on the two-lane highway that tracked across the emptiness. The road looked deserted except for a pair of red taillights far ahead of him. Now and again, he caught the reflection of headlights in the rearview mirror, but that had been the extent of the traffic so far.

Sloan sat next to him, their hips and legs touching, her shoulder tucked against his side. The contact made him aware of her every movement. As a consequence, his glance slid to her when she shifted forward to peer around him at the western sky.

“What a gorgeous sunset,” she murmured. “Just look at all that color.”

“It’s caused from too much dust in the air. We haven’t had the kind of spring rains we needed, so it’s dry everywhere around here.” In the fading twilight, he spotted a cross fence a few hundred yards ahead and pointed to it. “That’s the Triple C’s south-boundary fence coming up.”

“Already?” she said in surprise.

Trey chuckled at her anticipation of their imminent arrival. “Don’t get excited. We’ve still got a long ways to go yet. It’s another fifty miles to the east gate, and forty miles after that to The Homestead.”

“That far!” she marveled and settled back in the seat, automatically nestling against him. “I’ve always heard the Triple C was a big ranch. That’s a hard concept to grasp, but I’m beginning to.”

“Gramps would tell you it takes a big chunk of land to fit under a Calder sky.” Trey smiled, remembering all the times he’d heard the comment.

Sloan made a sidelong study of his profile. Its ruggedness was purely masculine and roughly handsome. “Tell me about the people I’ll meet when we get to The Homestead.”

“Let’s see,” he said, gathering his thoughts. “You’ve already met my mother. She’ll be there, of course. She runs the ranch now that Gramps has stepped down. And I’ve already told you about Gramps. You’ll like him. The ones who don’t are those who’ve had the misfortune of tangling with him.”

“Your mother mentioned someone named Cat,” Sloan prompted.

“That’s my aunt, Cathleen Calder Echohawk, but everyone calls her Cat. She moved back to The Homestead this past winter when Gramps had pneumonia, and she’s stayed on to look after him.”

“Isn’t she married?”

“Widowed.” His expression sobered. “Logan was the local sheriff. He was killed last year.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, sensing from Trey’s tone that his death had been a shock.

“Logan was one of a kind—sheriff, ex-Treasury agent, and a rancher. He had a small spread on the Triple C’s north boundary.”

“Did they have any children?”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “A son. Quint is five years older than I am. Growing up, I wanted to do everything he did, go everywhere he went. We’ve always been as close as brothers.”

“Does he work at the Triple C, too?”

“He runs our operation down in Texas.” He slanted her a twinkling look, his smile deepening. “He just got married this spring, which means there have been tw

o weddings at The Homestead in the last year.”

“Who was the first?” Sloan asked, slowly acquiring a picture of his life and the people in it.

“My sister, Laura.”

“Will I meet her tonight?”

“No, she lives in England.” He paused a moment, then concluded, “That’s just about everybody, except for Rachel Niles. She’s married to one of my mom’s brothers and gives Aunt Cat a hand with the cooking and housework.”

An indigo color bathed the sky ahead of him, darkening it with the beginning of night’s mystery. “It’s your turn now. Other than you were born in Louisiana and lost both of your parents, you’ve hardly talked about yourself.”

“You left out that I’m a photographer and I live in Hawaii,” she teased lightly.


Tags: Janet Dailey Calder Saga Romance