Page 39 of Calder Country

Chase’s words triggered an emotion in Joseph—a feeling so painful and fierce that it felt as if his guts were being tied in knots. Why did things seem to happen so easily for some people? Here was Chase, accepting the privilege that Joseph had dreamed of, yearned for, and would have to fight for.

But he couldn’t give in to envy, Joseph told himself. All he could do was try to use this small opening.

“I’d like to know more about the project,” he said. “Who knows, maybe an airstrip would be a good thing for our ranch, too. Is there any way I could meet Lucy’s father? That way, maybe I could get to know Lucy as well.”

Chase tightened another wire and hammered it into place. His silence was beginning to dampen Joseph’s hopes when, at last, he spoke.

“I guess you could come to dinner tomorrow night, as my friend. My father might grumble, but he’d be a gracious host. Your father, on the other hand, wouldn’t like it at all. He might not even allow you to visit us.”

“My father wouldn’t have to know,” Joseph said. “I could make something up, like going to see a girl. Or I could just leave. I’m not a twelve-year-old kid anymore, even though my father treats me like one.”

“All right, I’ll ask my dad.” Chase finished attaching the last wire, bagged his tools, and strode to his horse. “I’ll call and leave you a message. Either way, you’ll know what it means.”

“Thanks.” Joseph watched him ride off in the direction of the O’Rourke place. He tried to remember little Maggie O’Rourke from the last time he’d seen her in town—a slip of a girl with fiery eyes and a wild mane of black hair. She could be a beauty, Joseph conceded. But she was so young and most likely innocent. What could Chase be thinking?

* * *

The Calder dining room had gone almost twenty years without a woman’s touch, and it showed. Mounted hunting trophies—bear, bison, and moose—decorated walls that wanted a good whitewashing. The linen tablecloth was worn, the china plates chipped here and there, the silver tarnished. An open wine bottle stood in the middle of the table, in defiance of prohibition laws. A drop that had trickled down the outside of the bottle left a crimson stain on the cloth.

All the same, Joseph was impressed. An air of power made up for any lack of elegance. It was a power that emanated from Webb Calder at the head of the table, like the aura surrounding a Viking chieftain or a medieval king.

Chase sat on his father’s left with Joseph next to him. Mr. Nigel Merriweather and his daughter sat facing them on the other side. Nigel, whom Joseph had glimpsed with Webb at Jake’s restaurant, claimed to have emigrated from Britain after the war. He was lean and pale, with the studied air of an aristocrat. His affected manners and speech struck Joseph as overdone, like the massively ornate gold ring he wore, in the shape of a bird; but the man did appear to know a great deal about airplanes, especially British planes. Joseph had come here to learn, but the daughter distracted his attention again and again.

In this drab, masculine setting, Lucy Merriweather bloomed like an English rose. Her lavender gown seemed to float around her slender figure. Its color set off her porcelain skin, dark hair, and sparkling hazel eyes. Her smile—and she smiled often, mostly at Chase—showed dazzling white teeth.

Clearly she had her eye on the heir to the Calder fortune. Her father probably had the same idea. Maybe Webb did, too. Lucy was the very picture of a suitable rich man’s wife. But Chase’s thoughts were elsewhere—on a ragged Irish girl as wild as the birds that woke the morning with their cries.

Joseph was doing his best not to stare, but with Lucy sitting directly across from him, it was hard to take his eyes off her. He was scarcely aware of the delicious beef stew and fresh bread he was eating. Only one thing was clear in his mind. This was no time to be timid. If he wanted this chance, he had to be bold enough to take it—even if it got him slapped down.

Lucy was laughing at a joke Webb had made. Her laugh was charming and genuine. Joseph couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was the most enchanting girl he’d ever seen. The fact that her father was in the airplane business was the icing on the cake.

Not that it mattered. Lucy’s father could have been a junk dealer or a traveling snake oil salesman, and Joseph would still have been smitten. But when he looked across the table at Lucy, he saw his dream—a dream that would never be his unless he reached for it.

“When do you expect to have the airstrip finished, Mr. Merriweather?” Joseph asked, putting down his fork.

Nigel sipped his wine. “We’ll do as much as we can this fall. But it probably won’t be finished until spring. That’s when we’ll buy our first plane and hire a pilot.”

“I’d be interested in seeing how you get the land ready for the planes and how you build the hangar,” Joseph said. “In fact, if you need a worker, I could make myself available. I’ve been interested in flying for a long time. I might even become a pilot myself.”

Webb cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine your father would let you get involved in this project, Joseph—especially here with us on the Triple C. You’re his only son. He needs you at home, to run the ranch and that accursed sawmill. He can’t spare you to go gallivanting off to build airstrips and fly planes.”

“My father doesn’t own me.”

Webb chuckled, an unpleasant sound. “That’s where you’re wrong, boy. And it’s what you’ll learn as you grow older. You think I had any say about what I wanted to do with my life? You think Chase does? Hell, he’ll do what I tell him to, won’t you, son?” He gave Chase a stern look. “And you’ll do the same with your old man, Joseph. It’s called life. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Joseph cringed inside like a whipped dog. He’d never had a reason to hate Webb Calder, not the way his father did. But he hated the man now.

It was Chase who broke the tension. “Dad, I promised Joseph I’d show him the filly I’m raising. May we be excused?”

“Fine.” Webb’s eyes narrowed. “After that, I believe your friend will be ready to get into his car and head for home.”

Ignoring his father’s words, Chase smiled at the girl across the table. “Would you like to come, too, Lucy? I know you like horses.”

“I’d love to.” Lucy stood, then glanced across the table at her father. “Is it all right, Papa?”

Nigel hesitated, then gave her a nod. “I suppose it would be more enjoyable than sitting here with a couple of stuffy old men. And I’m sure these two young gentlemen will treat you like the lady you are. Right, Chase?”

“Certainly, sir,” Chase said. “Come on, let’s go.”

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