This Calder Sky by Janet Dailey

would whisper behind their backs and point. It was something that Angus had thought about over and over again. His face became mottled with frustration because Calder knew they would suffer more than he and his son.
    â€œYour son took my little girl and used her for his own pleasure. I’m not letting him get away with it,” Angus insisted in a tight voice. “I demand that he do the right thing by her.”
    An eyebrow shot up in challenging surprise, a studied action that seemed to imply Angus wasn’t too bright. “I hope you aren’t suggesting marriage, Angus, becausethat would be a bigger mistake than the one they made. Your daughter is much too young to be any man’s bride, and my son isn’t ready to settle down in married life. I know you are trying to ensure that your daughter doesn’t suffer any loss of respect, but for parents to force their children to marry because of a single indiscretion would be wrong. She would be unhappy with my son, and I know that’s something that as her father you want to avoid.”
    Angus hated Webb for being so damned levelheaded and practical. He shifted in his chair, aware that he was being made to look like a fool and helpless to know how to change it. He clung to the one thought that burned steadily within him.
    â€œHe isn’t going to get by with what he did. He’s got to pay for it,” Angus repeated in steadfast determination.
    â€œIf I had a daughter”—Webb Calder leaned forward in his chair and casually rested his arms on the desk to study him—“and if I believed something of this nature had happened to her, I’m sure I would be feeling the same sense of outrage that you are. I would insist on some form of retribution, too. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to expect compensation—a settlement for damages, if you will.”
    â€œAre you saying that you want to buy me off?” Angus challenged with narrowed eyes, his pride stung by the offer. “Do you think money can erase my daughter’s memory of what happened out there by the river?”
    A faint smile touched Calder’s mouth, hinting at shrewdness. “I’m certain there is no dollar figure that would be adequate compensation. It’s merely a gesture of goodwill. You and I are reasonable men, Angus. It would benefit neither of us to have this story spread around, creating gossip and scandal. The wise thing isto settle the matter as best we can. What other alternative do we have?” He looked across the desk, waiting for a suggestion. Unable to meet the directness of that gaze, Angus wavered. None of his threats had seemed to touch this man. All of them had been brushed aside. He’d not even had the satisfaction of making the man squirm
    Before the silence became awkward, Calder reached for a pen. “Why don’t I write out a bill of sale to you for, say, twenty-five head of prime stock—your choice—and mark it paid in full?” He reached for a piece of paper.
    Watching Calder, Angus’ mind raced. If he left this ranch empty-handed, without even the satisfaction of knowing he’d put Calder in a difficult position, then he’d accomplished nothing but to make a fool of himself. He wasn’t even able to truthfully brag that he’d put Calder on the spot. His bluff had been called. Something had to be salvaged from this. It wasn’t Calder’s place to be dictating the terms of a settlement; it was his. Calder had already started to write.
    â€œMake it fifty head of my choice,” Angus demanded.
    Lifting his head, Calder gave him a steely glance. “Fifty head it is,” he agreed, and Angus wondered if he should have demanded more—a hundred, maybe. He cursed himself for settling too cheaply. Calder owned two hundred times that number, maybe more. But something in that hard, cold stare kept Angus from upping the ante. The palms of his hands felt clammy as Calder