Green Calder Grass by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page B

degrees below the freezing mark, but there was no wind to swirl the flakes or blow the fallen snow into drifts.
    On this snowy Sunday morning in December, all was quiet on the ranch. Smoke curled from one of The Homestead’s brick chimneys, the gray of it quickly lost against the backdrop of an equally gray sky, thickly speckled with snow.
    The steady hum of an approaching vehicle penetrated the snowfall’s hushed silence. Soon the dark Suburban became visible through the white screen of flakes as it traveled along the ranch’s forty-mile-long driveway to the Triple C headquarters.
    With tires crunching over the heavy wet snow, the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of The Homestead. The wipers ceased their rhythmic sweep of the windshield and the engine died. The passenger doors opened, both front and back.
    Five-year-old Quint Echohawk hopped out of one side, his slender body made plump by the heavy parka and snow pants he wore, but on his head, he wore his favorite cowboy hat. With barely disguised impatience, he waited for the others to join him.
    After stepping out of the front passenger side into the snow, Cathleen Calder Echohawk, affectionately known by everyone on the Triple C as Cat, handed her son the smaller of the two wrapped gifts she had in her arms.
    “Will you carry this one, Quint?”
    “Okay.” Taking it, he tucked the present under his arm.
    On the driver’s side, Logan Echohawk held the rear door open and offered an assisting hand to Sally Brogan as she climbed out of the back seat. Like Cat, she also carried two presents, but hers were on the large and cumbersome side.
    “Let me carry those for you?” Logan relieved Sally of them.
    “Mom.” Quint looked at Cat with earnest eyes, the same shade of gray as his father’s. “Can I hold one of the babies? I’d be extra careful.”
    “I know you would, but you’ll have to ask Aunt Jessy.”
    “Couldn’t I ask Uncle Ty instead? I think he’d let me.”
    “Oh, you do, do you?” Cat struggled to hide a smile. Logan paused beside her. “Have we got everything out of the truck?” he asked. “What about the camera?”
    “It’s in my pocket.” She patted the bulge it made.
    Together the four of them trooped up the steps and paused by the front door to stomp the snow from their boots. Cat didn’t bother to caution her young son to be quiet in case the babies were sleeping. It wasn’t in her son’s nature to be loud and rambunctious.
    “We’re here,” Cat announced unnecessarily when Logan closed the front door behind them.
    “I’m in here,” Ty’s voice came from the living room that opened off the large entry hall.
    Before all four managed to shed their heavy outer garments, hang them on the utilitarian coat rack, and deposit their wet snow boots in the large box placed by the front door specifically for that purpose, an angry wail shattered the stillness, originating from the living room as well.
    Obeying, by now, her well-honed mother’s instincts, Cat moved quickly toward the sound. Sally Brogan followed right behind her. There sat Ty on the large leather sofa, one whimpering, blanket-wrapped infant nestled in the crook of his arm. The second, squawling baby was strapped in an infant seat on the cushion beside him.
    With a none-too-deft left hand, Ty attempted to slip a pacifier into the open mouth of the crying baby. But one suckle and the baby spit it out with an even louder wail.
    “Where’s Jessy?” Cat wasted little time in coming to the rescue of both her brother and the baby.
    “In the kitchen warming their bottles.” His voice had a frazzled edge to it, a tone most new fathers would recognize. Then it took on a dry quality. “Meet your new niece and nephew.”
    “Come to Aunty Cat.” With the strap unfastened, Cat lifted the angry, red-faced infant from the carrier. Instead of being soothed and comforted by the contact, the baby unleashed an even louder wail of rage. “My, but we have a temper.”
    “You can