The Last MacKlenna

by Katherine Lowry Logan

  As the car approached a lighted arch with a suspended sign that read MacKlenna Hogmanay, the true magic he had created came into view. A smaller version of the Edinburgh wheel lifted guests high into the air. Squeals of delight flowed down.

  “Where’d you find a Ferris wheel on such short notice?”

  “When Kevin sets his mind on something, he won’t accept defeat.”

  She pointed out the window. “A food stand?”

  “Haggis and hot cones of chips.”

  “Just like Edinburgh,” she said.

  “I wanted everything to be authentic,” Elliott said.

  “Channel Twenty-Seven is here,” David said.

  Elliott glanced out the window. “Damn.”

  “They’ll want an interview,” David said.

  Elliott had never developed Sean’s PR skills, and after dealing with the press over Galahad’s death, Elliott had had enough contact with news hounds to last a while. “Run interference and send them Sandy’s way. They just want admission to the concert.”

  “Should I tell her to let them in?”

  “Tell her to use her judgment.”

  “Do you want to enter through the front door or pull into the garage?” David asked.

  “Front door.”

  David pulled the car to a stop next to the valet tent where a young man assisted him with getting Elliott seated in the wheelchair. Once settled, David wheeled the chair up the ramp and through the front door.

  Meredith slapped her hands against her cheeks. “Look at what you’ve done.” The outside was worthy of a Broadway production, but inside, the crew had created another kind of magic. The wait-staff wore kilts, and street theater actors roamed the house, some juggling, some reciting Burns. Traditional Scottish Ceilidh dancers performed in the library.

  “Do you know the dance?” David asked.

  Meredith nodded. “Do you?”

  “Elliott, would you mind if I danced with yer lady?”

  He waved them on.

  The three dancing couples stopped and welcomed Meredith and David, and then the music started up again. A crowd gathered, clapping and stomping their feet.

  “You’re an excellent dancer, David.”

  “Not as good as he is,” he said, pointing his head in Elliott’s direction.

  She glanced at Elliott. Although he smiled, sadness watered his eyes. She touched David’s arm and nodded toward Elliott. They bowed out of the dance.

  “Why’d you stop?” he asked.

  She leaned over and whispered, “Because I wasn’t dancing with you.”

  A man and woman approached. “This has to be Meredith.” The man extended his hand. “I’m Jim Manning. My wife, Judy.”

  Jim looked exactly like what Meredith expected of Elliott’s long-time friend and attorney—tall, dark eyes and hair, handsome, well-dressed, polished, and personable. She liked him immediately.

  “Great party, Elliott. If this is what they do in Scotland, Jim and I are going next year,” Judy said.

  David stepped behind the wheelchair and grasped the handles. “Everyone is being asked to take their seats.” He nodded toward the Mannings. “You’re to be seated at Dr. Fraser’s table.”

  French doors leading to the north portico stood open. A covered, heated walk connected the columned porch to a walled dining tent. David pushed the wheelchair to the table for eight where they joined Dr. Lyles and the chairman of the board, along with their spouses. David left but returned shortly with crutches and a lapel mike, which he pinned to Elliott’s jacket.

  “Looks like I get a reprieve,” Elliott said to Meredith. He stood, gained his balance, then hobbled to the podium. “May I have your attention?” The buzz of voices quieted.

  Meredith watched the man she had come to—what? Adore, admire, love? She thought back to the night she walked into the library at Louise’s B&B. From the moment she set eyes on him, she thought him deliciously composed, and while he occasionally acted like an ass, her first impression hadn’t changed. He was a remarkable man and an incredible lover, and she would miss him when the time came to say goodbye.

  “Welcome, lads and lassies, to MacKlenna Farm’s Hogmanay.” Elliott spoke over the party horns and cheers. “My inspiration for this event came from a very beautiful woman—”

  “That’s no surprise,” a man yelled from the audience.

  Elliott chuckled. “For those of you who haven’t met my guest, please give a warm Kentucky welcome to Meredith Montgomery, owner of Montgomery Winery in Napa.”

  The lighting technician widened the spotlight to include her. Under the glare of the light, Meredith’s heart went to her throat. If Elliott hadn’t mentioned the winery, she’d have scooted her chair out of the spotlight, but she never missed an opportunity to promote her wines. She picked up a chardonnay, held the bottle aloft, and smiled.

  “Woohoo,” Kevin and Allie, sitting at the table behind her, shouted above the applause.

  When the spotlight released her, Jim leaned over and said, “In the twenty-five years I’ve known Elliott, he’s never publicly introduced his date. Are you paying him to promote your wine?”

  Meredith set the bottle back on the table, laughing. “If I was, he’d have mentioned the label I’m launching in February.”

  “I told my bride if I could work it out, I’d take her.”

  Judy peeked around her husband’s back and tapped Meredith’s arm. “And I’m holding him to it.”

  “Well, if he can’t get away, come by yourself. You can stay with me.”

  Judy winked at Jim, smiling. “That’ll put pressure on you for sure.”

  When the room quieted again, Elliott continued, “A year ago a drunk driver killed—” he stopped and cleared his throat, “—killed Sean and Mary MacKlenna.” With the announcement, the air whisked from the room, taking all sound and movement—still as death. Elliott’s voice wobbled. He took a breath. “Their absence has been felt beyond this farm. Tonight, I would like to make a toast.”

  The shuffle of feet and chairs echoed through the tent as everyone stood, glass in hand.

  “May their memory be ever in our minds,” Elliott said. “May their love be ever in our hearts. May their passion for life be ever our standard. To Sean and Mary MacKlenna.”

  There weren’t any dry eyes at Meredith’s table, and tears leaked from Elliott’s.

  “To Sean and Mary.” A cloud of palpable grief smothered the crowd’s voices. Then a melodic sound of a piper playing the Great Highland Bagpipe burst through the cloud playing Amazing Grace. After a few stanzas, the entire pipe and drum band joined in, marching in formation to the center of the dance floor.

  Tears rolled down Meredith’s cheeks. Elliott hobbled over to her, dropped the crutches, and took her into his arms. “Thank you for being here.” His chest heaved against her.

  Kevin walked up beside him and picked up the crutches. “You need to sit, Boss.”

  Elliott took his seat, and when the band started its next song, servers entered the room carrying the first course. By the time everyone had salads, the New Year’s excitement had swept away the melancholy. Every time Elliott laughed, Meredith’s heart shed a tear. Every time he smiled, her heart cracked. Every time he looked at her with eyes that made her melt, another sliver of her heart splintered off. At the rate she was going, there’d be nothing left by the time her plane took off in the morning.

  At nine o’clock, Wynonna came out on stage, and so did Tate. The dog never left her side. When she took a break, the backup band came out and encouraged people to get up and hit the dance floor. Meredith felt certain that if Elliott had been able, they’d have been the first couple out there.

  Kevin leaned over her shoulder. “Do you want to dance?”

  Meredith shook her head.

  Elliott kissed her on the mouth. “Go. Enjoy yourself.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “You can dance all you want with Kevin,” Elliott said, glaring at his aide. “He’s usu
ally a gentleman.”

  “You’re my role model, Boss.” Kevin pulled away her chair and led her out onto the dance floor. The music rocked, and she thoroughly enjoyed dancing with a young, energetic man with some nice moves.

  Wynonna returned with Tate tagging along. The audience enjoyed another hour’s concert, plus four or five encores. Finally, she said goodnight. The band returned to the stage, and Meredith and Kevin returned to the dance floor.

  At eleven-thirty, David wheeled Elliott from the tent. Meredith pointed toward the exit, and Kevin turned to see them disappear through the doorway. “He’s probably going to the bathroom.” A couple of minutes later, David returned for Jake and Jim Manning. Meredith again pointed to get Kevin’s attention. “David will signal if he needs us.”

  When David reentered the tent and walked toward her, the trickle of fear slid down her spine and turned into an open spigot. She braced for bad news.

  David put one arm around Kevin’s shoulder, the other around Meredith’s. “We’ve got a situation.” As calmly as they could, Meredith and Kevin followed him out.

  “What’s going on?” Kevin asked.

  “The asshole killed another horse.”

  Meredith’s overheated blood froze in her veins. Elliott can’t take any more. They made their way through the kitchen toward Granny Mac’s sitting room.

  “I don’t give a fuck what it takes. You get that son of a bitch.” Elliott stood at the French doors with his hands on his hips. He’d tossed his jacket on a chair and pulled his tie undone. She gulped at the unbridled anger twisting his face. “That fucker took Galahad and now Stormy.”

  “Stormy?” Meredith said on a gasp.

  “Is dead in his stall,” David said.

  “That’s impossible. We left him at Rood & Riddle this afternoon.” She glanced around the room. “Where’s Doc?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Elliott asked.

  “Stormy got away from me. Jumped a rock fence and hurt his leg. Doc and I took him to the hospital. He’ll be okay.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

  “Doc wanted—”

  Dashing into the room, Doc said, “I wanted the full report and prognosis before I told you.”

  Elliott glared at the vet and then at Meredith. “Why the hell were you riding a horse you couldn’t control?”

  “Calm down, Elliott,” Doc said. “An icy branch broke off a tree and scared him. You know how he is. He did it to Kit enough times.”

  “But she never got him hurt.”

  A sizzling sensation started at the back of Meredith’s neck and ended at her ankles. Then her heart kicked her in the chest, sending her stumbling into the wall.

  Elliott’s eyes grew mad-man-wide. The corded muscles in his neck strained and pulsed. He pointed at Doc. “You took my horse to the hospital without telling me. And you,” he pointed at Meredith. “You lied to me.” His hot temper rose as if he’d swallowed fire. If flames shot from his mouth, she’d be incinerated.

  She choked from his accusation, which was worse than anything her father or husband had ever said to her. In that moment, he destroyed her feelings for him.

  “If Stormy isn’t in his stall, then who is?” Kevin asked.

  Doc collapsed into a chair and covered his face with his hands, shaking and groaning.

  “Who’s in Stormy’s stall, Doc?” Elliott demanded.

  Doc dropped his hands, revealing the look of death on his face. “I moved Sugar Butter in there this afternoon to keep an eye on him.”

  “A ten million dollar stallion with a full book is dead, and Stormy’s recovering at Rood & Riddle. Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “That’s about it,” Doc said.

  “This is the biggest fuck up I’ve ever seen, and it all happened because she,” Elliott said, glaring at Meredith, “thought she could ride a goddamn stallion.”

  Was this really her fault? No. She didn’t kill his horse and certainly hadn’t set out to harm Stormy. She backed out of the room, wincing with remorse that she hadn’t told him earlier. She fought the panic that rose in her throat.

  Kevin went after her. “He didn’t mean that. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but words wouldn’t tumble out. She felt like a knitted scarf unraveling one stitch at a time in rapid succession. Soon, nothing would be left but a long piece of crinkled yarn. “But he did,” she said.

  Kevin’s face paled. “He cares about you.”

  “Is that how he shows that he cares for someone? By embarrassing and humiliating them?”

  Kevin winced as if he’d been slapped.

  “Sometimes we say things we don’t mean, but it doesn’t make the pain we cause less severe.” She filled a glass of water at the sink and gulped it down. If she’d had a glass of wine, she would have gulped that instead. “I’m through. I’ve got too much going on in my life right now to deal with him.” Pain sliced through her stomach, and she all but threw up. “I saw some of this when he was in the hospital, but I cut him some slack.” She shook her head. “Not anymore.”

  “What are you going to do now? Leave?” There was a quake in Kevin’s voice.

  A waiter brushed by carrying two bottles of wine. Her wine. Her name. Her life. Reality set in, smacking her with the force of a two-by-four.

  She leaned against the counter, thinking through what she needed to do. “I can’t leave.” Her voice was soft, yet controlled.

  “You don’t have to,” Kevin said. “You can stay here at the mansion, or I’ll take you to a hotel.”

  “No. I can’t leave the party. My wine is on every table in that tent. I won’t run away like a teenager with a broken heart. I have a responsibility to the winery, to the Montgomery name. I won’t leave until the party is over.” She was a marathoner and knew what it was like to hit the wall, to feel like she couldn’t take another step, but she had always finished because that was what she was trained to do. “I’ve lived my entire life putting Montgomery Winery first. I’ll continue to do that.” She stood tall, squared her shoulders, and dried her eyes. “I’m going back to the party, and I sure could use a dance partner.”

  He cut a glance back toward the sitting room; his lips pressed together forming a straight seam. His stony expression didn’t change. If anything, it deepened; more raw, more wounded. Meredith had the sense that he was struggling with disillusionment. The man he idol worshiped had fallen off his pedestal.

  “Let’s go dancing,” he said.

  She hugged him, and even though she tried not to compare him to Elliott, she couldn’t help but notice that he was not only a bit taller but a bit stronger, too. His scent packed a punch, not subtle like Elliott’s. The bottom notes were musk, vanilla bean, and sandalwood. Any other woman would be turned on by the evocative scent. But not her. She didn’t react to what she smelled. She reacted to what she didn’t.

  They reentered the tent, smiles plastered in place. If disappointment and hurt reigned in their hearts, they were determined that no one would know it. They danced until three o’clock, when the back-up band finally played the last song. The foursome—Meredith, Kevin, Ted, and Laurence—sat and opened a bottle of Champaign.

  “To your new wine,” Kevin said. Meredith leaned in to him, and he wrapped his arm around her. “When are you leaving?”

  “My plane will be here at seven o’clock. What time is it now?”

  “After four,” Kevin said.

  “Will you take me to the airport?”

  “Laurence and I will take you,” Ted said. “Hell, if you’ve got room, we might go with you.”

  “Love to have you,” she said.

  They finished the bottle and opened another one, and at four-thirty, they all four walked over to the cottage with a promise from Laurence that he’d cook breakfast. Meredith’s body ached in a way it never had from any of her races. She was emotionally and physically spent. When Elliott entered the kitchen, she froze, feeling
his tension from across the room. His grief-stricken face garnered no sympathy from her.

  “I’d like to talk to you,” he said.

  She walked past him, out into the hallway. “I’m going upstairs to change and pack.”

  “You’re leaving? Can’t we talk?” Elliott asked.

  “As far as you’re concerned, I’m already gone.” She hurried upstairs, where she slipped out of her gown and knotted it up, not caring if she ever wore it again. “And the same goes for these damn shoes.” She took them off and threw them in the trash.

  The door to the wardrobe opened. “I can’t let you leave like this.” Elliott hobbled into the room without crutches. “What I did to you was unconscionable. When I heard Stormy was dead, all I could think of was how much I had failed Sean. You became the embodiment of my failure for reasons that are hard to explain, and you probably wouldn’t believe it if I did.”

  Meredith looked ahead, imagining the finish line. Once she crossed it, she could stop running. She could tune out all the distractions and focus on the one thing that mattered, Cailean.

  “You know, Elliott, I really don’t care. Your sorry’s don’t mean anything to me. You’re as close to Jekyll and Hyde as any man I’ve met. When I think of you, a tear will come to my eye long before a smile comes to my face.”

  She walked into the bathroom, locked the door, stripped, and then eased into the hot steamy shower. Over the years she had learned that you had to take life as it came at you, or else hit it with a baseball bat. And that was exactly what she intended to do.

  Swing.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  MacKlenna Mansion House – January 2, 2015

  THE SUN WAS rising from behind the clouds as Kevin backed his BMW out of the garage. Meredith sat bundled in the passenger’s seat, wiping tears from her face. Elliott watched from the bedroom window, stretching his neck until the rear of the car disappeared behind the tree line that followed the curve of the driveway.

  A blade sliced through his heart as surely as one had sliced through his leg. Deep, racking sobs shook his body. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor. He had a tearing, burning sensation in his chest. Maybe a heart attack would kill him and end his suffering. No, not possible. He would continue to kill himself daily in small chunks, masking his pain with whiskey and painkillers.