Chaz arose early the next day, determined to begin the process of discovery he would pursue until he knew all there was to know about his new estate. That it would take some time was a given, but what else did he have to do now? The wilds of Arizona certainly offered no theatres, discreet gambling salons for the well-heeled, gentlemen’s clubs, or other diversions he had enjoyed in England. It was up to him to find what the area did offer.
At least Uncle Dab had employed a better-than-average cook. Though somewhat surly, the man knew how to fix a decent pot of tea and his breakfast scones were delicious. Comfortably full, Chaz took his Norfolk jacket and headed out the back door toward the barns and corrals visible some distance down the sheltered valley that held the D-Bar headquarters.
