Stands a Calder Man by Janet Dailey Page A

since he voiced the sentiment of all.
    â€œThere’s Bull.” Lorna Calder was the first to spot the broad hulk of the man as he swung down from the train steps, relying heavily on his cane for support. A black porter followed with his satchel.
    They lost sight of him behind the swelling tide of emigrants clustering around the land locater. Wessel hopped onto a wooden crate so all could see him.
    â€œWelcome to the future wheat capital of Montana!” His voice carried like a preacher’s. “I hope you didn’t come here looking for dryland. All we’ve got is mud!”
    Subdued laughter and wide smiles spread through the large group of new settlers. The only ones shaking their heads grimly were the members of the Triple C outfit. As Bull Giles limped into view, Webb pushed the voice of the locater extolling the virtues of this region into the background of his hearing.
    Built like a circus strong man and just about as ugly, Bull Giles wore a tailor-made black suit. The jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a silver brocade vest and a diamond stickpin. Despite his hulking physique, he appeared every inch the gentleman. The impression was stronger as Bull Giles singled out Lorna Calder for his initial greeting. There was a softness in his features that belied his powerfully built body and craggy face.
    â€œYou haven’t changed a bit, Lorna. If anything, you are more beautiful.” He took her hand and bowed gallantly over it, kissing the top of her white glove.
    â€œAnd you haven’t changed a bit, either, Bull,” she declared. “You are still the flatterer.”
    â€œIf your husband wasn’t standing here, giving me the baleful eye, I would attempt to convince you that my admiration isn’t insincere.” There was a lightness in his reply that didn’t match the intensity of his gaze. Then he was turning to Benteen before anything more could be read into his manner toward Lorma. “I guess I don’t need to ask how things are,” Bull said as he shook Benteen’s hand. His glance swerved to the emigrants flocked around the promoter.
    â€œThey’re blacking this land like a plague of grasshoppers.” Benteen put them in the same category ofdisaster, which seemed an unwarranted exaggeration to Webb. “I hope you’ve come up with something.”
    â€œThe dam broke, Benteen,” Bull stated. “It would take an act of God to stop this flood of people now.”
    The pronouncement was no different than Benteen had expected, yet it didn’t lessen his displeasure at actually hearing it voiced. There was a brief lull in the conversation as Bull paid the porter for carrying his satchel. Benteen motioned to one of the men to stow the satchel in the buggy.
    â€œThe town has really grown.” Bull looked up the street, noting the many new buildings that flanked the muddy thoroughfare. “Is that a lumberyard?” He nodded toward the stacks of green wood piled against an unfinished building.
    â€œThe lumberyard’s the most recent,” Benteen admitted. “Blue Moon even has a bank. And there’s optimistic talk going around about building a granary.”
    â€œNothing stays the same, I guess.” Bull thoughtfully studied the wide spot in the road that had grown into a full-fledged boom town in less than a few months. “Things change.”
    â€œThe changes aren’t always good.”
    Bull’s mouth twitched in a dry smile. “You’ll have a hard time convincing the merchants of that.”
    â€œThe problem with greed is that it feeds on itself.” Benteen seemed to shake off his dark mood with an effort and made the opening gambit to depart from the station. “Let’s go have a drink while Lorna does her shopping.”
    â€œGood idea,” Bull agreed. “It’s a long, dry ride to the ranch, as I remember.”
    For the short ride up the street, Benteen climbed in the