Chapter Seventeen.

The accident site was behind them, obscured by the churned-up dust cloud. Jessy studied Ty's strong-jawed profile, noting the taut ridges of tension.

"You are going to question Buck yourself, aren't you?" she guessed.

Patience had never come natural to him. It was something Ty had learned, but he had never been able to sit comfortably in its saddle.

"As soon as I get you home and settled." He tried to gentle his voice, but Jessy caught the undertone of hard decision. There would be no dissuading him from it.

In truth Jessy hadn't expected him to do anything else. Buck would never admit to anything. And without any proof the shooting had actually occurred, there was little Ty could do except put Buck on notice. Buck would know exactly what that meant. And it might be enough to make him think twice before trying anything again. It was a confrontation that had to take place.

"I have a feeling you won't have to worry about getting me settled," Jessy told him. "Between Sally and my mother, one of them will be fluttering around, coddling me like an invalid."

True to her prediction, Jessy had barely set foot on The Homestead's front porch when the two women scurried out of the house to surround her. Her mother took one look at the gauze bandage over Jessy's wound and bemoaned the loss of hair that had been snipped away, then brightly assured Jessy it would grow back.

Glancing over their heads, she looked at Ty. "Didn't I tell you? You might as well go before they shoo you out of the way." She observed his momentary indecision. "It needs to be done, Ty."

The simple phrase smoothed everything out inside him. Jessy was not a woman who needed her hand held, certainly not when there was a job to be done. Tara, on the other hand, would have been grievously hurt if he had left so soon after bringing her home from the hospital, but not Jessy. He took pride in that.

"Get some rest," he said and headed back to the truck.

Rest was all she had done for the last twelve hours. Jessy had no intention of climbing into another bed until nightfall. When she learned that Cat had taken the twins to give Jessy some peace and quiet on her first day home, she knew she was in for the full invalid treatment. Over the protestations of both women, Jessy insisted on sitting on the porch for a while.

"I feel like I've been cooped up inside for a week, constantly being poked and prodded, someone always hovering about to check my pulse or take my blood pressure. I just want to sit outside by myself and enjoy some fresh air. Believe me, it will be much more restful than lying in any bed," Jessy insisted.

Her mother wisely saw that Jessy had her heels dug in. There would be no talking her out of this. Reluctantly she gave in to Jessy's wishes.

Ensconced in one of the high-backed rockers on the front porch, Jessy basked in the warmth of the sun. A glass and a pitcher of ice water sat on the table beside her, along with a bell to ring. A small neck roll pillow offered support for her throbbing head and another pillow cushioned her lower back. All that was missing was an afghan over her legs, Jessy thought with a faint smile.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the dining room curtain move and knew it was either her mother or Sally checking on her. She closed her eyes and savored the familiar scents and sounds of the ranch, a little surprised that she was content simply to sit and do nothing. She blamed it on the hard blow to her head that she had taken, which turned her thoughts to the accident that hadn't been an accident at all and the confrontation between Ty and Buck Haskell that had either taken place already or was about to occur.

Catching the telltale crunch of gravel, Jessy opened her eyes to see Ballard making his way toward the front steps. He spotted her as well.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," she echoed his greeting.

"Seeing you sitting out here sure does make it a good morning," Ballard declared, mounting the steps. "I was just comin' to see how you were feelin', but I sure didn't expect to find you out here on the porch."

"Just getting some air," she told him.

"That's the best way I know to get that hospital smell out of your nose." He walked over and stretched out in the companion to her rocking chair, his gaze making a thorough examination of her. "You had us all good and worried, Jessy. How are you feeling?"

"Now you sound like a nurse," she countered lightly, a little weary of answering the same old question.

"I guess I do." The wry slant of his mouth gave his smile a rueful quality. He focused his attention on the bandaged area along the side of her temple, reaching into her scalp. "I'll bet your head feels like there's a bunch of carpenters inside poundin' away."

"They said I would have headaches for a while." Reaching up, she absently felt the gauze. The wound itself was sore to the touch.

"When's the bandage come off?" he asked.

"Tomorrow, as long it's not draining anymore."

"I'll bet you'll be glad to get rid of it. I never could stand having one on," Ballard declared then let his focus drift away from her. "Ty sure didn't hang around long after he brought you home."

"He had some business to take care of."

"I'm hearing talk that maybe it wasn't an accident. That maybe someone deliberately shot out those tires. It's just a rumor, mind you, but I was wondering if there was any truth in it." He looked to her for an answer.

"It looks that way," Jessy confirmed.

An unusual grimness hardened his features. "That's what I figured. It was just too much of a coincidence for both of those tires to blow. And I'm bettin' I know who's behind it, too. And Ty takin' off like that, headin' east, I'd say he's plannin' on havin' a little talk with her."

"Her?" Jessy repeated, taken aback by the feminine pronoun. "You don't seriously think Tara did the shooting?" The idea was ludicrous.

"No, but I'll give you odds she gave the order," he stated.

"Tara." The possibility that Tara had anything at all to do with this had never crossed her mind. It struck Jessy as preposterous. "But why? What reason would she have?"

Ballard didn't even hesitate over the answer.

"To get rid of you so she can have Ty all to herself. It's what she's been wantin' ever since she showed up-only she's got tired of waitin' for him to come around. So she figured on hurryin' things up a bit by tryin' to get you out of the picture."

"But Ty was in the truck, too," Jessy argued. "Why would she risk having him hurt, possibly killed?"

"I've puzzled over that, too," Ballard admitted. "I figure that was Buck's doing. He probably liked the idea of taking out a Calder along with you. Don't you know he felt the sharp edge of her tongue afterwards."

Jessy struggled to wrap her mind around the conspiracy Ballard was painting. She had never liked or trusted Tara, but she still found it difficult to suspect her of this.

"Tara is good at scheming and manipulating, but I don't think she is capable of what you're suggesting," she stated.

"You don't, huh?" There was a kind of pity in the look Ballard gave her. "Then explain to me why she hired Haskell?"

"She said it was because he knew the Wolf Meadow range so well." It was an explanation that had always seemed weak to Jessy.

"I won't argue with that," Ballard replied. "In fact, he probably knows all the ideal spots for an ambush. And he's also the first one you'd suspect if there was any violence around here. After all, everybody knows how much he hates the Calders. Right?"

Reluctantly Jessy agreed as the pieces began to fit together. "Right."

"Let's suppose Haskell gets caught and points a finger at Tara. Who's gonna believe him? Oh, there might be a few who do. But it won't matter 'cause she'll have covered her tracks with him eight ways to Sunday. It'll just be his word that she was part of it. With the high-powered lawyers she can hire, the word of an ex-con is never gonna convict her. Yes sir," Ballard concluded with a decisive nod. "She's planned it all very carefully. Buck's the only wild card. I'm guessin' she's findin' him a little hard to control."

"Have you told anyone else what you suspect?"

"What good would it do? Suspicion is all I got. And I'm not exactly popular with Ty these days," he reminded her. "He wouldn't believe it about her anyway. She's got him fooled. She always has."

"Not always," she corrected. "Or he would still be married to her."

"And she will be again if she can get rid of you. She's got him all set up for it. There Ty would be, a widower with two kids to raise, and she's fussed over them from the start. For some extra added insurance, she bought Wolf Meadow. Hell, if you weren't around, Ty would marry her just to get his hands on that land," he declared. "It would be one of those old-time business mergers masqueradin' as a marriage."

Jessy wasn't so sure about that. Ty was first and foremost a Calder. Even though a Calder wasn't above making a loveless marriage, Ty would fight shy of making the same mistake twice.

"Maybe," she said. "Then again, maybe not."

"Look, I'm not tellin' you all this to put Ty down, though it might sound that way." He leaned toward her, conveying an urgency. "I guess I'm sayin' all this to warn you. If I'm right, there'll be another attempt on your life. Maybe not right away. Maybe she'll let things cool down for a while just to lull you into lettin' down your guard. But you need to keep your eyes and ears open."

"Don't worry. I will."

"There's no point in tellin' me not to worry, 'cause I will. I'd tell you to stick close to The Homestead, except I keep rememberin' those kidnappers busted right into the house. Still, if you stay around here, I can keep an eye on you. But most of all, don't go off anywhere by yourself. Who knows, maybe I'm all wet and nothin' will come of any of this."

"Let's hope so," Jessy agreed, aware that Ballard had nothing but his suspicions.

A pickup swung into the ranchyard and approached The Homestead. Jessy was quick to recognize Chase behind the wheel. Ballard did as well and rose from the chair without any show of haste.

"Be careful, Jessy." He looked serious and worried. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Thanks." She was touched by the concern he showed for her safety. She had yet to decide whether she felt it was warranted.

"Afternoon, Chase." Ballard nodded to him as they passed on the steps.

Chase responded with an absent nod, his attention zeroing in on Jessy, making a swift assessment. "You are looking better than I expected."

"I feel better, too."

He crossed to her chair, his glance leaving her to scan the ranchyard. "Is Ty around?"

"No." Jessy told him about their conversation with Logan, the conclusions Ty had drawn, and the lack of evidence to support it. "Ty went to Wolf Meadow to confront Buck."

Chase's expression was as hard as chiseled granite, his eyes narrowing in a cold anger. But he made no comment beyond a slow nod of satisfaction. An attempt had been made against a Calder, but it was not going unanswered.

"What did Ballard want?" Chase asked, his glance only now traveling after the man.

"He thinks Tara might be involved in this," Jessy replied with her usual candor.

"I considered that possibility," Chase stated, but he didn't offer his opinion on it. He turned toward the door. "Are you coming in?"

"Not for a while."

"I'll be in the den if you need me," he said in parting and crossed to the door, his attention turning inward.

Chase regretted that he wasn't with Ty. It was a regret that wasn't based on any doubt that Ty could handle it. But he knew Haskell, and Ty didn't.

More importantly, Buck would know Chase never bluffed. Chase did what he said he would do, and be damned with the law.

The fan blades of windmill eleven stood against the sky, motionless and forgotten amid the hustle of activity nearby. Another time Ty would have taken time to study the low-slung dwelling that sprawled near the base of the butte. But at that moment, he had no interest in it.

Scanning the construction site, he spotted an office trailer parked off to the side, and drove straight to it. A score or more of men moved about the site but Buck Haskell wasn't among them.

Parking the pickup near the trailer steps, he switched off the ignition and climbed out of the cab. As he approached the trailer, its door opened and Tara stepped out.

"Ty." Her greeting echoed the surprise and pleasure that claimed her expression. "I heard the truck and couldn't imagine who had driven out here. I thought you would be on your way home from the hospital with Jessy." Tara paused, a look of quick concern leaping into her eyes. "They did release her, didn't they?"

"Yes, she's home," Ty confirmed, half-impatiently.

"Thank goodness." Tara pressed a hand to her throat in an exaggerated gesture of relief then let it fall away. "You had me worried for a minute."

"Sorry," Ty began.

But she had already closed the distance between them and possessively claimed his arm, sliding him one of her patented provocative glances. "I can't believe I'm actually going to be able to give you a tour of my beautiful home, considering all the times you have postponed it."

"And I'll have to do it again." He firmly removed her hand from his arm. "This isn't a social call."

She drew back. A storminess briefly darkened her eyes since her wishes had been thwarted again. But Tara detected something in his expression, a kind of cold fury held tightly in check. She instantly sought its cause.

"What is it, Ty? What's wrong?"

"Where's Haskell?"

"Buck," Tara repeated, his question taking her by surprise. "He's around here somewhere. Why?"

"I need to have a talk with him. Where can I find him?" Turning his head, Ty again swept his gaze over the area.

"He mentioned something earlier about changing the bit on one of the bridles. I imagine he's at the tack shed by the corral. I'll take you there."

When Tara started forward, angling away from the building site, Ty noticed the pole corral that had been erected some distance away, close to the butte. A pair of horses lazed within it. Beyond them, he made out the roof of a small storage shed.

"No need," he told Tara. "I see it." When she continued walking, he caught her arm, drawing her to a halt. "I said I will find him myself."

"Don't you take that tone of voice with me, Ty Calder," Tara chided, but for all the lightness of her voice, there was a determined set to her chin. "I don't know what you want with Buck, but I intend to find out."

"It's a private matter, between Buck and myself."

"Buck works for me," Tara stated. "Since you don't choose to tell me why you want to speak to him, I can only assume you think he has done something wrong. If that is the case, I have every right to know about it."

In answer, Ty challenged, "Where was Buck yesterday afternoon?"

"Yesterday?" Tara stared at him for a blank second before comprehension dawned. "You surely don't think he had anything to do with your accident," she protested in disbelief.

"Somebody deliberately shot out the tires. I don't call that an accident," Ty retorted sharply. Tara recoiled in shock. Recognizing that her guard was down, Ty took advantage of it to demand, "Where was he?"

"Repairing one of the windmills," she answered without thinking, then rushed an explanation, "I might buy some yearling steers and fatten them over the summer-"

"Was he alone?" Ty challenged.