Lone Calder Star by Janet Dailey Page A

Rutledge has already got my ranch. There isn't a whole lot more he can do to hurt me."
    But there was, and Dallas knew it. Several months ago, while filing some papers, she had stumbled upon a sale document transferring ownership of the feed store to Max Rutledge. Sykes continued to front for him, but Rutledge owned it. She had never mentioned anything about it to her grandfather, fully aware he'd be furious if he knew she was working-even indirectly-for Max Rutledge.
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    One word from Rutledge and she would be out of work. The chances of finding another full-time job in the area were virtually nil. And her chances of convincing her grandfather to move to the city were just about the same.
    All those thoughts ran through her mind, but Dallas didn't voice any of them, saying instead,
    "Personally, I don't want to find out what kind of trouble he might cause us. I just want to forget he exists. And I want you to forget about that job at the Cee Bar."
    Empty made the swing into the driveway a little too fast. Gravel flew when he slammed on the brakes. The pickup screeched to a halt short of the steps.
    "I never said a word about taking the job. You're the one who got the idea in your head. And you haven't quit harping about it ever since." He climbed out of the pickup and slammed the door shut behind him.
    "Fine," Dallas snapped, slamming her own door. "Then let's both stop thinking about it."
    "Suits me." He grabbed hold of the handrail and pulled himself up the steps ahead of her. "You got school tonight?"
    "Yes." Her thoughts made the lightning leap to more mundane matters. "I thought I'd add some rice to that leftover chili and fix that for supper tonight. Is that all right with you?" she asked, thinking that she should have enough time to hop in the shower while the chili was heating.
    "Bowl of that'll be good enough for me. Don't have much of an appetite anyway." He walked through the door straight over to the recliner and plopped himself in it.
    Both were careful to avoid any further reference to the Cee Bar Ranch. But the thought of it was never out of Empty's mind. He did experience a twinge of guilt when Dallas stopped by his chair on her way out the door and brushed his cheek with a kiss.
    "I'm sorry for arguing with you earlier." Her lips curved in a rueful smile even as her eyes teased him. "But you're such an old war-horse that I could easily imagine you letting yourself get talked into something."
    "Nobody can talk me into anything," he insisted gruffly. "I make up my own mind about things."
    "Always," Dallas agreed and crossed to the door, her book bag in hand. She swung back smiling at him. "I don't know what I was so worried about anyway. It isn't likely your Quint Echohawk would even consider hiring you."
    His head came up. "Why not?"
    "Because men his age never think that someone as old as you are would still be capable of doing that kind of hard work." It was a matter-of-fact statement, with no undertone of anything else.
    She opened the door. "I'll be late coming home-as usual. I've got my key, so be sure to lock the door before you go to bed."
    He waved a hand in answer. After the door closed behind her, Empty gathered up their supper dishes and carried them to the sink.
    The pickup's headlight beams arced across the window behind it. He peered out to make certain she had pulled onto the road. The instant he caught the red flash of taillights, he crossed to the end of the counter and dug around until he located the telephone book among the clutter. He flipped through the pages and kept his finger on the number for the Cee Bar while he dialed it.
    "Echohawk? It's Empty Garner," he said the minute the phone was answered. "I've been thinking about all the work needing to be done out there. It's no secret you're going to have a tough time finding a hired hand. Since I'm not doing anything but sitting around, I thought I'd offer to help till you do."
    He paused and heard the silence that followed. Sensing