Page 3 of Calder Country

Three boys on bicycles were coming up the road toward him. Torn by an unaccustomed longing, Mason couldn’t tear his gaze away from them. But as they drew closer, he could tell that none of them was old enough to be his son. Joseph would be tall now, his body filling out to become a man’s.

The boys appeared to be excited about something. They were pumping their bikes hard, glancing up at the sky as they rode. Only as the overhead drone of an engine reached his ears did he understand why. Looking back over his shoulder, Mason could see the biplane—a Curtiss JN-4, the model known as a “Jenny”—coming from the direction of Miles City to swoop in low over the town.

As the plane passed overhead, paper leaflets came fluttering down to scatter like a flock of white pigeons. The boys had stopped their bikes and were scrambling to catch as many leaflets as they could grab with their eager hands.

Mason understood what was going on. Barnstormers were nothing new, even to this small town. They flew around the country, putting on airshows and offering plane rides to the locals for a few precious dollars. Among the leaflets there might be one marked with a special stamp, entitling the finder to a free ride. That was the reason the boys were clambering after the leaflets.

As the taxi pulled around them and drove on, Mason happened to glance down at his feet. One of the leaflets had landed on the floor of the vehicle, the edge just touching his shoe. Reaching down, he picked it up and read the printed message:

Art Murchison’s Flight Show. 1:00 today.

See death-defying stunts.

Admission: 25 cents for adults, 15 cents for children

Plane rides: $4.00

Below the message was the print of a rubber stamp framed and lettered in red ink.

Present this ticket for a free 15-minute plane ride.

Mason stared at the stamp. Evidently he had found the lucky ticket for a free plane ride—or rather, it had found him. Somewhere, the Fates must be laughing.

Today, of all days, with so much going wrong, the last thing he needed was a free plane ride. He thought about ordering the driver back to where the boys were and offering them the ticket. But there were three boys and only one ticket. They’d probably fight over it. Why cause trouble?

He tapped the driver’s shoulder. “Could you use this ticket for a free plane ride today?” he asked.

The driver shook his head. “Not me. You couldn’t get me up in one of those contraptions for a million dollars. I saw too many of ’em go down over France.”

As the taxi moved beyond the town and neared the ranch, Mason folded the leaflet and slipped it into his vest pocket. He had no plans to use the free ticket.

His gaze swept the familiar hayfields and barbed wire fences, the grazing red-and-white Hereford cattle, and the towering Lombardy poplars planted in long rows along the property lines to serve as windbreaks.

Minutes from now, he’d be arriving at the Hollister Ranch to face his mother.

Anything could happen.

* * *

As the biplane swooped low over the sprawling ranch complex, Ruby Weaver scattered the last packet of leaflets advertising the afternoon show. As the papers fluttered to the ground she gazed past the edge of the cockpit, struck by the immense spread of buildings, corrals, pastures, and vast herds of cattle below. Everyone in Montana had heard of the Calders and their Triple C Ranch—the biggest in the state. But Ruby was seeing it for the first time. From the air, the place looked more like a town—or even a kingdom—than the property of a single, powerful family. How could anyone be rich enough to own all that land, that grand house, and all those horses and cattle?

But that question shouldn’t concern her. All that mattered was flying the plane, putting on a show, and moving on to the next town.

The sound of the engine was too loud for conversation. As the plane began to climb, Ruby signaled to her father, who was piloting the aircraft from the tandem cockpit behind her, that she had no more leaflets to drop. It was time to land, eat the lunch they’d packed, refuel the plane, top off the radiator, and fill the tires before the show.

Ruby checked her seat belt for the descent and landing. The biplane was a training model, built to carry an instructor and a student, one behind the other. In her cockpit, the stick and foot pedal bar moved in ghostly sync with the ones her father was using to control the aircraft.

As the climb leveled off, he reached forward and touched her shoulder. Ruby knew what he expected. It would be up to her to take the controls and pilot the plane to a safe landing.

Her pulse skittered as she grasped the stick and placed her feet on the pedals. She could feel the quiver of resistance as her father released contact and turned the flight over to her. As she banked the plane for the turn, tilting the wings at a steep angle, her heart drummed like a trapped bird against the walls of her chest. Only after she’d leveled the plane out and headed back the way they’d come did she allow herself a deep breath.

Ruby’s father, Art, who’d served as a flight instructor during the war, was an excellent teacher. But Ruby had only been flying for a few months. Every time he gave her the controls, she battled the fear of making a critical mistake that would send them both plunging to their deaths. Now he was placing his life in her hands, trusting her to keep them both safe. But Ruby knew he had another, deeper motive. Art had brought her into the sky to save her.

CHAPTER TWO

THE TAXI DRIVER LET MASON OFF AT THE FRONT GATE. MASON HAD paid in advance for the ride, but he gave the man a fair tip, as a gentleman would do.

The stately brick house, its broad porch sheltered by the overhanging roof, appeared unchanged. But the front yard was weedy and overgrown. Mason’s mother had always taken pride in her home’s outward appearance. For as long as he could remember, she’d paid a gardener to keep the place mowed, weeded, and trimmed.

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