Lone Calder Star (Calder Saga Book 9) by Janet Dailey

Author:Janet Dailey [Dailey, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2006-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

A thin cloud drifted in front of the waning moon, dimming its light and intensifying the star-twinkle in the night sky. But Dallas took no notice of it, her senses dulled by a fatigue that was both physical and mental. At the moment all of her attention was focused on locating the Cee Bar’s entrance gate.

But the truck’s headlight beams were slow to separate the gate’s tall posts from the roadside shadows. It suddenly loomed on the right, forcing Dallas to slam on the brakes. As the truck fishtailed nearly to a stop, Dallas swung the wheel and drove through the gate, sending up a silent prayer of gratitude that no one had been behind her.

With the rutted lane twisting before her, Dallas sagged against the seat and allowed her mind to wander back over the chaos of the last nearly forty-eight hours. When she threw in the pressure of final exams, she could easily see why she felt so dull and drained. She also knew the worst wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

She doubted, though, that Quint really believed that.

Quint. There was a big, hollow ache in her chest at the mere thought of him. Unconsciously she touched a fingertip to her lips, recalling the crush of his mouth on them, the anger that had been in it, along with the heat and the need. The memory of it stirred through her, livening her own desires.

Dallas sternly reminded herself that she could not become emotionally involved with Quint. Nothing could come from it but heartache. And her life was complicated enough right now, thanks to the threat Boone had made against her grandfather.

“Dear God,” she murmured, a tightness gripping her throat, “I can’t help it. I hate the Rutledges. I hate them.”

Light bloomed in the darkness, spilling from the tall security light in the ranch yard, as Dallas rounded the last curve. The yellow gleam of the porch light beckoned her from the ranch house. With a deepening weariness of body and spirit, Dallas automatically set her sights on it.

Seconds after the truck rolled into the ranch yard, a muffled boom shattered the stillness. Certain it was made by a shotgun, she slammed on the brakes, alarm shooting through her as she jerked her head toward the barn that had almost simultaneously erupted with the panicked squawking of chickens.

In a flash, Dallas whipped the pickup toward the barn and tromped on the accelerator, the truck’s fast-spinning tires spitting gravel. She barely gave it time to come to a full stop near the door before she charged out of it, leaving the lights on and the engine running.

“Empty, is that you?” Dallas yelled as two chickens fought to get through the partially opened barn door, wings flapping. “Are you all right?”

Before she reached the opening, Quint stepped out, hatless and holding the shotgun at his side, the muzzle pointed at the ground.

“It’s only me,” he said. “Sorry if I gave you a scare.”

“You did. I was sure—” Her initial wave of relief was replaced with a new concern.

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