This Calder Sky by Janet Dailey Page A

reverted his attention to the bill of sale he was writing, the pen scratching across the paper in bold strokes.
    When it was written, Calder offered it to him, forcing Angus to rise from his chair to reach for it. Looking at the bill of sale, he was burned again with the knowledge that he’d sold too cheap. It sounded like a lot to himbecause he had so little, but it didn’t even make a dent in Calder’s pocket. He hadn’t made Calder pay—he’d been bought. He felt puny and sick inside.
    Webb reached for the telephone on his desk and picked up the receiver, dialing a number. He glanced once at O’Rourke, observing the bitter regret in the man’s expression. It was always that way whenever a buyer met the asking price; the seller always wondered if he couldn’t have gotten more.
    The ringing line was answered. “This is Calder.” Webb identified himself and didn’t wait for a response. “Is Nate there?” At the affirmative answer, he said, “Tell him I want to see him at The Homestead.”
    Hanging up the phone, Webb pushed the chair away from the desk and stood up. O’Rourke continued to stare at the bill of sale, not immediately noticing that he had risen until he walked from behind the desk. Then he pushed quickly to his feet.
    â€œNate Moore is one of my foremen.” Webb walked toward the entry hall. O’Rourke followed him. “He has an excellent eye for cattle—a very experienced man, well qualified. I’m sure you’ll find him very helpful. You know him, don’t you?” He opened the front door and motioned for O’Rourke to go first.
    â€œI’ve talked to him a few times … in town.” It was a terse answer, an enlargement on exchanged greetings and comments about the weather.
    â€œOf course.” Webb nodded as he guided the man to the top of the porch steps. Nate’s lean shape was just crossing the yard. “Here he is now.”
    As the ramrod approached the steps, his glance flicked to the shorter man, then darted sharply to his boss, silently speculating. But he merely nodded a greeting to both men.
    â€œYou wanted to see me?” The question was put to Webb Calder.
    â€œYes. I’ve just sold O’Rourke some cattle—fifty head of his choosing. I thought it would be best if you arranged to show him the herds and set up a delivery time.”
    â€œWe can look at the herds tomorrow morning around nine, if that suits you?” Nate turned to O’Rourke.
    â€œNine … nine o’clock is fine.” He shifted uncomfortably.
    â€œAs for delivery, we can truck them over, or you can drive them through to your place—whichever you prefer.” The foreman shrugged.
    â€œI’ll let you know in the morning,” Angus grumbled in ill temper as he folded the bill of sale and tucked it in his pocket.
    â€œI’ll meet you at the barns at nine o’clock.” Nate named the meeting place.
    O’Rourke nodded and flashed a dark look at Calder before descending the steps and striking out for the battered pickup truck parked in the yard. Both Nate and Webb watched Angus go.
    â€œHe doesn’t look pleased with the bargain,” Nate observed in a deliberately low voice.
    â€œNobody ever is,” Webb replied, then turned to enter the house, dismissing the foreman by his action.
    Nate lingered, then shoved off to return to the barns. In one way or another, females were always at the heart of a man’s troubles. Every man made a fool of himself over one at some time or another. Nate was just glad he’d never been fool enough to marry one. He liked being free to come and go as he pleased, with no one nagging him about where he was going or when he’d be back. The Triple C provided him with all the family he needed.
    When dinner was over, Chase and Webb took their coffee into the den, leaving Ruth to clear the table.Chase walked to the ornately