Part 20 (1/2)
”In the north pasture, Senora.”
”Thank you, Maria,” Summer said as she ran out the door. She couldn't explain her sense of urgency. She only knew she had to get to the site of the roundup without delay.
Even so, it took her nearly an hour to drive the forty-five miles of dirt roads to the holding pens in the north pasture where the calves would be branded, castrated, and vaccinated. She could see the dust and hear the anxious cows bawling for their lost calves long before she reached the first of the corrals.
She glanced up as she heard the whup whup whup of a helicopter driving cattle toward the pens. Several cowboys worked on horseback to keep the animals calm and moving in the right direction. She tried to see who was flying, but the sun reflected off the gla.s.s bubble, keeping the pilot a mystery.
Her mother's family, the DeWitts, had been among the first cattlemen in Texas to use helicopters to drive a herd during the roundup, and her mother had talked her father into the practice. She'd been his first pilot. He never let her fly when she was pregnant, but in the old days, in between children, her mother had always helped with the roundup.
Summer watched the helicopter veer dangerously toward a stand of squat mesquite trees, then rise over them at the last instant. The risky maneuver had her heart pounding. Her mother had always taken that sort of death-defying risk. But she wasn't as young as she used to be, and it had to be fifteen years since she'd flown a helicopter.
Summer gunned the truck engine, bouncing through potholes as she raced to reach the chuck wagon and branding fire, where she was most likely to find her father and the answer to who was flying that helicopter.
She braked her Silverado to a skidding stop when she spotted her father, whose head loomed above the men working around him. ”Daddy!” she called, as she headed toward him, walking briskly, but not running, so she wouldn't spook either horses or cattle.
He broke from the circle of cowboys and headed toward her. ”What are you doing here, Summer? Is something wrong?”
”Who's flying that helicopter?” she asked.
Her father glanced up as the helicopter zoomed past a lone, towering live oak, then back at her and said, ”G.o.dd.a.m.n that woman, taking chances like that.”
”Is it Mom?” she asked anxiously.
He took off his hat and swatted it against his Levi's, raising a cloud of dust, then settled the Resistol back low on his forehead. ”Yep.”
”What's she doing up there? Are you crazy? Is she?”
”Couldn't stop her,” Blackjack said. ”Believe me, I tried.”
”Why is she doing this?” Summer asked, watching as her mother pointed the nose of the helicopter at another bunch of cattle and started them moving toward the pens. ”I didn't even know she had a current pilot's license.”
”She doesn't,” her father replied.
”Then why are you letting her fly?”
Her father gave a disgruntled snort. ”You try keeping her on the ground.”
”You're bigger than she is. You can-”
Blackjack laughed bitterly. ”And have her accuse me of physically abusing her? When we're headed for divorce court? Not on your life.”
”Daddy, you have to-”
Her father interrupted her with a dismissive wave of his hand. ”Why did you come here, Summer? What do you want?”
Summer glanced one last time at the helicopter, then turned her attention to her father. ”I want you to give Billy back his job with the TSCRA.”
”I told Billy not a half hour ago that there's no work for him anywhere in this part of Texas, and he might as well sell out and move on. Did he send you here to beg for him?”
Summer blanched. ”Billy was here?”
”Sure as h.e.l.l was. Got to hand it to the kid. Didn't argue with me, just listened, then turned and left.”
”Billy left without fighting? Without an argument? I don't believe you.”
Blackjack shrugged. ”Believe what you want. That boy-”
Summer was enraged at her father's dismissal of Billy, enraged at the thought of Billy giving up. Billy would never give up. Her father had to be lying. ”That boy has more integrity and courage in his little finger than-”
”Whoa, there, Missy,” her father interrupted.
Summer bit her lip. Attacking her father wasn't going to get Billy back his job. She made herself speak slowly and carefully. ”It isn't fair, Daddy. Billy hasn't done you any harm. It isn't his fault I wouldn't marry Geoffrey. The choice was mine.”
Her father made a disgusted sound, and she hurried to speak so he wouldn't interrupt again.
”Billy has a son to support. His mother's sick, and his sister's pregnant. He has responsibilities. He needs his job to take care of them. Please, if you ever loved me, will you do this for me?”
”You know I love you,” her father said gruffly. ”But-”
”Billy's more your blood than I am. He deserves a helping hand.”
”It's because he's my blood that I don't want him married to you,” Blackjack said. ”I want him gone from here. Gone from your life.”
”That isn't going to happen, Daddy.”
”Then he's got zero chance of getting a job around here.”
Blackjack started to turn, but Summer laid a desperate hand on his arm. ”Are you saying that if I left Billy you'd help him? That you'd give him back his job with the TSCRA?”
”Are you saying you'll leave Billy if I do?” Blackjack countered.
Summer felt her throat tightening and swallowed painfully. ”I can't-I won't-divorce Billy,” she said. He needed to be married to protect his rights in court. ”But if you give him back his job, I'd be willing to move back home. At least for a while until... until we can get all this sorted out.”
Blackjack's eyes narrowed. ”I'm not living at home.”
”All the more reason for someone to be staying at the Castle with Mom,” Summer said. ”Is it a deal?”
”You promise to keep your distance from Billy?”
”If you give him back his job with the TSCRA, I'll move back home.” Summer thought about her mother's promise to sell Bitter Creek when she divorced Blackjack. ”So long as there is a home.”
”Done.” Blackjack held out his hand and Summer shook it, then turned to leave.
”Where are you going?” Blackjack said.
She stopped and glanced at him over her shoulder. ”To tell Billy he's got his job back.” And to find someone to keep an eye on Dora once she was gone.