Calder Born, Calder Bred (Calder 4) by Janet Dailey

Author:Janet Dailey [Dailey, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, General, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781451640342
Google: mcdHuqSf3TMC
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2011-01-31T23:00:00+00:00

The drone of an airplane broke the afternoon quiet. Ty reined his horse in atop a rise and looked up to see Dyson's twin-engine aircraft making its swing west with Tara aboard.

There was a knotting of his muscles, a fine-honed tension that sharpened his nerves.

He'd finished his inspection of the site on the north range. It appeared to be the most promising of all, with an ample supply of water, good natural drainage, and only a short distance from one of the main ranch roads and the north camp bossed by Arch Goodman.

The plane grew steadily smaller. Ty

soon lost it in the glare of the low-hanging sun.

He sat a second longer on his horse, then lifted the reins to head for the north camp, where he'd left his truck and horse van.

As he started to send his horse down the slope, he spotted a rider leading a sore-footed horse along the shallow pocket. It was Jessy Niles who had been forced afoot. Ty rode down. Cowboy boots were not conducive to walking long distances. When she heard the drum of hooves, she stopped and extended the shade of her hat brim with her hand to block out the sun's glaring angle and identify the approaching rider.

"Trouble?" His dryly amused glance ran over her dusty face.

"Threw a shoe about six miles back," she answered ruefully. "Wouldn't ya know I'd get nearly home before someone comes along."

Ty chuckled and took his boot out of the left stirrup. "Climb aboard."

Jessy passed him the reins to her horse, then stuck a toe in the empty stirrup and grabbed his saddle horn to swing up behind him. There was never any ease within her when she was around him. She didn't have it now as she had to grip the solid trunk of his waist to steady herself while she shifted into a comfortable position on the saddle skirt.

Underneath all that casualness, she was as taut as a bowstring.

"Ready?" Ty wrapped her horse's reins around the saddle horn to eliminate the drag.

"Yeah." She took her hands off him and rested them on her thighs, balancing easily at the slow walk necessitated by her tender-footed horse.

His shoulders were broad and well muscled. He smelled of horses and tobacco smoke. It was a full minute before Jessy realized he

had turned off the path she'd been on. "Where are you going?"

"To the camp." He turned his head, giving her a view of his jutting profile, bronzed and sun-lined at the corner of his eyes. "Why?"

"If you angle to the north, it'll shortcut you to the edge of camp," Jessy said, knowing the area like the back of her hand. "I've got a cabin there, stuck in the woods."

"The old Stanton place?" Ty asked, neck-reining his mount in a northerly direction.

"Yeah."

"I thought you were still living with your folks," he remarked idly.

"I was up until last fall. I usually moved in with the Goodmans over the winter 'cause it's too hard trying to get from one end of the ranch to the other when the weather's bad.

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