Free Green Calder Grass by Janet Dailey

bad time.”
    “It’s just Laura, wanting her diaper changed. I take it you’re back at the hotel. How was the funeral?”
    Ty hesitated. “Actually I’m at Tara’s.”
    “Oh.” Pain cut through her, sharp and swift, caused as much by the small pause as by his reply. Jessy felt the old flare of anger and resentment, but kept it out of her voice. “How is she?”
    “She collapsed at the church. The doctor gave her a sedative after we brought her back to the house. Cat’s sitting with her now.”
    There wasn’t any comment Jessy could make that wouldn’t sound trite or false. So she said instead, “Then you haven’t had time to make any calls to set up appointments to look over the sale facilities.”
    “No. Not yet. If I get back to the hotel early enough tonight, I’ll call and see what I can arrange.”
    Which told Jessy that he didn’t plan to leave Tara’s anytime soon. Maybe it was simple jealousy she felt; Jessy wasn’t sure, but she didn’t trust Tara, not completely. And she never would.

PART TWO
    T hat grass, it’s a-feelin’ the footsteps
Of those who walked it before.
One took the land
and one raised his hand.
A Calder just don’t know
who to trust anymore.

Chapter Five
    M orning brought an end to the rain, but the clouds and the wind stayed, making it another gloomy and blustery day. It had been close to midnight when the limo dropped Ty and Cat at their hotel. Ty hadn’t slept well; he seldom did in a strange bed.
    After an early breakfast with Cat, he returned to his room to make the necessary phone calls while she went off to do some shopping. It was a slow process, making the calls and waiting for his to be returned. Each time the phone rang, he expected to hear Tara on the other end. But it never was.
    Ty found it difficult not to remember the sight of Tara lying alone in that bed, looking small and lost—and so very vulnerable. The Tara he knew had never been vulnerable. Not even for one second.
    Abruptly he tore off the notepad sheet listing the places, the contact names, and the directions to them, swung away from the silent telephone, grabbed up his hat and sheepskin-lined jacket, and headed for the door, stuffing the list in his jacket pocket.
    Before he reached it, someone rapped on the door. Assuming it was the maid coming to clean the room, Ty opened it. Tara stood in the hall, her hands buried in the pockets of a fur-lined raincoat. She wore little makeup, a touch of mascara, a blush of lipstick, but no more than that. It had the effect of heightening the pallor of her skin and enhancing that aura of vulnerability. But it was the lack of vitality that struck him hardest.
    “I didn’t dream you,” Tara murmured. “You did come.”
    “Yes.” Ty wanted to ask what she was doing there, what she wanted from him. But she seemed too fragile to respond to such a direct question without shattering.
    “Brownsmith told me that you sat by my bed until nearly midnight. Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    Her glance drifted down to the hat and coat he carried. The sight of them seemed to momentarily fluster her. “Are you going somewhere?” The question held a note of panic, reinforcing the impression of fragility.
    “As a matter of fact, I was,” Ty admitted. “Why?”
    “Because . . .” Tara hesitated then appeared to gather herself. “I didn’t go to the cemetery yesterday. I wanted to visit Daddy’s grave today, but I was hoping you would take me.” She lifted her head, her dark eyes vocal in their appeal. “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”
    It was such a small request, one that wouldn’t take more than an hour or two of his time. To refuse seemed somehow vindictive and callous.
    His lack of an immediate response prompted Tara to add, with a downcast look, “You probably have an appointment.” Head down, she started to turn away.
    “It won’t hurt anything if I’m a little late.” Ty stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him.
    “Thank