The Grandmaster's Legacy (HOT Historical Suspense, Box Set)

by Taylor Lee

  He leaned down and kissed her; first her eyes, then her cheeks, and then her lips. She kissed him back and they held each other for a long moment. “Christ, Princess, I’ve missed this mouth,” he said with a grin running his finger over her lips. Tears welled up in his eyes. He didn’t try to hide them.

  “I love you, Lei. I love you more than anything in the world.”

  “I love you, Wyatt. I always have and I always will.”

  Chief came over and handed Wyatt a glass with an herbal mix.

  Wyatt helped her raise her head. “Okay, honey, I want you to drink this. It’s going to make you sleepy. Then we’re going to put this cloth up close to your nose. It has medicine on it. Chief can tell how much you need by how fast you go to sleep, okay?”

  She said in a sleepy voice, “Wyatt, will you be okay if it is a girl?”

  “Oh yes, honey, as long as she looks like you. But it isn’t. I know it’s a boy. He has come to me several times in dreams.”

  Lei smiled and nodded. Within minutes she drifted off to sleep. Wyatt quickly went into a different mode.

  “Okay. Let’s get her on the table. We’re going to need to move fast. I will tell you now that I’m worried about the baby. Chief, if you have any trouble getting him to breathe, give him to me and you do what you can to stop Lei’s bleeding.” He motioned to the women Wan had brought in. “You two. You’ve birthed babies, right?” Both women nodded. “Probably not like this, I imagine,” Wyatt said with a grim smile. He continued, “If everything is okay with the baby, I want the two of you to take him, clean him up and make sure he’s warm.”

  They nodded.

  “Wan, you and Ri can stay if you want. I recommend it because there is no bigger miracle than a new born baby, particularly if it’s your first grandson and your first nephew. But if you would rather wait outside, I’ll call you as soon as the baby is born.”

  Ri said, “I want to stay.”

  Wan nodded, his face tight with fear.

  “If you don’t mind, please stand back over there so Alono can hold her down. Chief is going to help me stop the bleeding as much as we can. I’m going to wash up and then soak my hands in this carbolic acid. Chief soaked everything we’re putting in her body in it. This is how we’re going to keep her from getting an infection. I wasn’t lying when I told that bitch we haven’t had a single infection with our mares. Oh, and by the way, Wan, this is my first Caesarian on a woman. But I have done, what Chief, four so far on mares?”

  He stood up and soaked his hands in the carbolic acid while Chief scrubbed Lei’s stomach with the liquid. When they finished Wyatt moved over beside Lei. “Okay, Chief, any time that you want to start that chant, I’m ready to go.”

  Chief began to hum, softly chanting a prayer of grace and blessing. Wyatt picked up his knife.

  He took a deep breath and made a five inch cut above her pubic bone. “I’m going into the womb now. Get ready. There will be a rush of fluid. It’s going to help keep her clean. How’s her breathing, Alono? Okay, stop with the medication. I don’t want her to have any more until I get the baby out. Okay, here goes.”

  Both women stepped forward with towels as Chief instructed.

  Wyatt expertly spread the skin from the cut. He cut through the muscle underneath and exposed her womb. Taking another deep breath he made another cut releasing a flood of bloody amniotic fluid. Wyatt reached inside. In a choked voice he said, “Okay, little man, time for you to come out of there.” He pulled out the baby; a tiny blue gray little creature. It was a boy.

  “Stop the bleeding, Chief. I need to work on the baby.”

  Wyatt held the silent little body up to his face. First reaching a finger in his mouth to clear the airway, he blew in his mouth and nose while pressing softly against his chest. He did this for what seemed like hours, but was less than a minute when they heard a small cry, and then a lustier one.

  Tears ran down Wyatt’s face. He kissed the baby and said, “God bless you.”

  He tied off the cord connecting the baby to the placenta and then cut the cord. He handed him to Chief who kissed him and held him close to his body. Wyatt looked over his shoulder at Wan who had his head in his hands crying. “I told you, Wan. It’s a fucking miracle.”

  Wyatt expertly delivered the placenta then with a large syringe flushed out the cavity and started to stitch up the incision. Chief handed the baby to the women and turned back to help Wyatt. Between the two of them they repeatedly flushed out Lei’s abdominal cavity. When Wyatt gave the word, Chief handed him another needle and suture thread. He carefully closed the incision on her stomach as the blessed sound of the baby’s cries filled the room. Lei’s breathing was slow and regular.

  Wyatt stood up and put his arm around Chief who was shaking and crying softly. Wyatt sighed. “We did it, Chief. We fucking did it.”

  He embraced Alono, who like Chief, was crying. Wyatt leaned over and kissed Lei on the lips. He held her face and said, “Wake up, Lei. I have something to show you. Wake up soon. Your men need you, Princess.”

  He motioned to the women to bring the baby to him. Nodding to Lei, he said, “After Chief finishes bandaging her please wash her body and put warm dry clothes on her. Make her bed comfortable. Alono will carry her back to bed when you are finished.”

  He turned with the baby in his arms and walked away from the group. They could hear him murmuring softly. The baby stopped crying and opened his eyes. Wyatt laughed out loud. “Oh, God, Lei is going to kill me. His eyes are as blue as mine. Are you going to be as much trouble as your dad, little man? Hope so!”

  He held the baby for several minutes whispering to him. He walked over to Wan and said, “Do you want to hold your grandson?”

  Wan’s hands were shaking and his face was pale. He looked at Wyatt uncertainly but Wyatt gave him an encouraging grin. “Hell, Wan, it’s almost as easy as killing someone with your bare hands.”

  After everyone had a chance to hold the baby, Wyatt put him next to Lei and crawled in beside them. He said over his shoulder, “Lei will wake up any minute. If you don’t mind, I would like to introduce her to our son, just the three of us.”

  ~~~

  EPILOGUE

  Nicolas Deshi Chang McManus was an anomaly, at least by Wyoming standards. By historical standards, he represented a racial heritage that had played out many times in the past. Over the centuries, continents and bloodlines were crossed to create a physical combination that must have been much like Nick’s. Only his eyes, straight from Wyatt’s mixed uncertain past, broke the pattern.

  If his panoply of physical characteristics was complicated, so was his cultural heritage. Only time would tell if being the grandson of Wan Chang and son of Wyatt McManus would be a blessing or a curse.

  Wyatt came from the cottage to a familiar sound. Elena was struggling with the feisty two-year old, imploring him to get dressed. She looked up and saw Wyatt.

  “Daddy, Deshi won’t put on his riding clothes. He says he wants to fight more.”

  Wyatt grinned at the half naked little boy twisting and turning from his sister in a fierce mimic of kung fu moves.

  Alex said in exasperation, “Dad, now he won’t wear a shirt. He’s trying to wear a bandana like you.”

  Wyatt laughed as the bandana Deshi had tied on his head fell over his eyes and the frustrated child fell to the ground crying.

  Wyatt swooped the little boy up in his arms. “Come here, little guy. If you are going to wear this thing, you’re going to have to learn how to tie it. But Elena’s right. Now you need to put on your riding clothes.”

  The four of them headed off to the training ring, where Alono was saddling the children’s horses.

  Wyatt looked up and saw Lei coming from the barn, leading her Arabian. He handed Deshi to his sister and went to Lei.

  He swept her up in his arms and kissed her full on the lips, as if it had been weeks since he had seen her not hours before.

  Two days after Nicolas Deshi was born, Wyatt b
rought Lei and the baby back to the ranch. Closing the door physically on the previous six months, he was determined to wipe out the sadness and horror of her pregnancy. Her recovery was challenging, but Wyatt would have died himself before he let her die.

  Day by day, he declared the break from the past to himself and to Lei. In time, the sanctuary that had been Wyatt’s and Vivian’s became his and Lei’s invaded only by the raucous presence of their three children.

  When he lifted her up on her horse, she smiled at his solicitousness. “You know you’re hovering, don’t you?”

  With a leer, he said, “I’ll show you the difference between loving and hovering tonight when I have you begging for mercy. You got that, honey?”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah, Princess, that’s a promise.”

  ~The End~

  ~~~

  ~~~

  Race for Redemption

  By Taylor Lee

  ~~~

  ~~~

  Chapter 1

  Cheyenne, Wyoming

  July 1892

  Bernie Catron was dead. He was too young to die. It made you think. In Wyoming politics, it made you think a lot. Bernie had been governor for little more than a year. Damn, you wouldn’t think Bernie could have pissed off anybody bad enough in that short time to make them want to kill him. But the signs were all there. Hell, at least Lincoln got himself shot. It would have been better if Bernie had been shot too. Cleaner, not so many questions. The coroner ruled Bernie died from natural causes. Doc Hanson saw the body. Said it was the first time he heard arsenic poisoning called a natural cause. Doc Hanson reminded anyone who would listen that the coroner was a staunch Democrat.

  Bernie was forgettable in life. More so in death. His probable murder was the topic of conversation for a couple of days. The real interest was in who would succeed him. All the buzz was around Wyatt McManus. It was a given that whoever Wyatt chose to support had a ninety-nine to one chance of winning. Money ruled Wyoming politics. When it came to money, the word was Wyatt. But this election might be different, Charlie Masters, Wyoming’s senator, mused. The guy who lost the last election to Bernie had already thrown his hat in the ring. Shit, if anyone had almost as much money behind him as Wyatt McManus had personally, it was Grant Forrester.

  ~~~

  Charlie Masters met Tom Caldwell and Arthur Stone at the train station in Cheyenne. He took one look at Tom’s navy blue and red window pane plaid pants, yellow shirt and hastily added cowboy hat and shook his head in despair.

  “Damn, Tom, I thought the plan was for you to make a quick undercover trip in from Washington. So much for keeping our meeting under wraps. You’ll be the talk of the saloon within ten minutes. Everyone will know we’re here to see Wyatt. Hell, Tom, you don’t think you’re gonna get on a horse with pants like that, do you? You’ll scare the horse!”

  Arthur Young, a circuit judge and native of New Mexico, reassured him. “Don’t worry about me, Senator. I won’t embarrass you. I just need a place to change. Now Tom here is a different story. This is what he thinks constitutes western wear.”

  Tom quirked a brow in mock dismay. “Look you two; I specifically bought these clothes from a shop in Washington that touted ‘Western Wear.’ They told me this plaid is all the rage in the West. Are you trying to tell me I got snookered?”

  Charlie scoffed, “They’re a rage all right—an outrage. Those shopkeepers are still laughing their asses off at you, Tom. All the while counting your money.”

  Charlie shook his head and took a puff off his cigar. “Judge, why don’t you go in the hotel and change. Wyatt sent a couple of his men in with horses for us. Tom and I will meet you at the hotel stables.”

  ~~~

  Two hours later, Alono, the head of Wyatt’s security team, led the three men up to the gate of Blue Canyon Ranch.

  “I think Wyatt is over in the dojo. Lei is getting ready to fight a prospective master. Wyatt asked that you join him. You can leave your horses here. We’ll take care of them and see that your bags get to the guest quarters,” Alono said. “Here comes Chief now. He’ll take you over to the dojo.”

  An older Indian man with a long grey pony tail, a scarred weathered face and a welcoming grin came toward them with his hands outstretched. “Tom, Judge, Senator, welcome to Blue Canyon.” He winked at them. “Any chance the reason you’ve all come rushing in from Washington has to do with the fact our governor’s dead? It’s no secret why you’re here. I wish you well. I’ll be surprised if you succeed. Hell, it’s worth a try.”

  Chief grinned and raised his eyebrows at Tom’s unusual garb. He had known Tom Caldwell for twenty years. Tom was one of the first men to join the Caballeros, Wyatt’s team of advisers and protectors. Tom saw the leader in the arrogant young half-breed. He said he never regretted his decision to join the incipient group. Like everyone close to Wyatt, Tom was smart as hell. As Wyatt grew wealthy so did Tom along with the rest of the Caballeros. Tom was unusual in that he had been chosen specifically for his brains and connections to the financial and political markets in the East. Unlike the rest of the Caballeros Tom didn’t serve the dual purpose of physically protecting Wyatt. He always joked with Wyatt. “Hell, they just keep the bad guys from killing you. I keep them from stealing your money.”

  ~~~

  Wyatt stood in the back of the dojo. When the door opened, he acknowledged the three distinguished looking men in the doorway and motioned them to enter. Not surprisingly their eyes widened at the scene inside. Except for Chief and himself, they were the only non-Chinese in the room. A hushed silence hovered over the dojo. Unlike the usual raucous sounds of shrieking warriors and bodies slamming, kicking, and crashing against the floor and walls, the dojo was eerily quiet. Fifty or so students and teachers stood in a circle around the edge of the dojo, all eyes locked on the two fighters stretching on the center mat.

  The two fighters were markedly different in size. It was astonishing to think that the two of them were preparing to do battle with one another. The young man, Sang Fe, was six inches taller and easily outweighed his opponent by fifty pounds. When the smaller fighter rose from the mat, a collective gasp escaped from the visitors at the sight of the stunning young woman. Wyatt’s breath hitched at the familiar surge of lust that Lei never failed to elicit in his body.

  Lei was Chinese, but clearly some white blood had snuck into her heritage. Her features were unusual. Whatever had gone into the gene mix to create her, the result was stunning. Dark arched brows and a curtain of lush black lashes shaded her starling wide green eyes. Her skin was pale, her cheeks had a rosy flush and whoever created her mouth was an artistic genius. And, hell, it was a good thing all the men around her could only guess at the lush body beneath her shapeless gi. She was slender and taller than most Chinese women he knew. The fierceness in her eyes belied her delicate physical appearance. She looked like a princess, not a fierce fighter. No one knew better than Wyatt that impression would be dispelled in the first minute of the match, never to return.

  Lei and Sang Fe stepped to the center of the ring and bowed to each other. Joey Chen rang the gong. For the next twenty minutes the visitors watched a sight Wyatt was sure they would never forget. Sang Fe sprang forward, his hands raised like mallets. With a savage scream, he rushed toward Lei’s face. Lei responded with a backward flip. She flew through the air, rolled on the floor, and drove a fierce kick to Sang’s shoulder, knocking him to the ground. From that moment on, Lei evaded every strike, countering with an aerial move or counterstrike that had Sang Fe breathless, struggling to respond. Like a greased monkey, she ducked, slipped, and slid away from every attack.

  After twenty minutes of attack and counterattack, with Lei landing most of her strikes, and Sang Fe landing few, Lei backed up against the wall. Wyatt’s chest tightened with anticipation. No matter how many times he had seen her trademark move, it always astonished him. With a fierce shriek, she dove across the floor toward a startled Sang Fe. Flipping twice to the front, a
nd once to the back, she soared though the air. Sang Fe looked up in wonder as she flew down toward his upturned face. Too late, he tried to evade the approaching force. With a resounding crack, her heel hit his jaw. Sang fell to the floor, writhing in pain, clutching his jaw. Sympathetic groans and murmurs of appreciation echoed in the dojo.

  Lei immediately stepped back and held up her hands. She stood silently as the young man gathered his traumatized body and shattered pride, and struggled to his feet. Lei bowed low. Sang Fe shook off his tears and returned the bow. With her head in the air, Lei left the ring. She glanced to the back of the dojo and met Wyatt’s gaze. He smiled and bowed low. She returned the bow, bowed to Joey Chen, her sensei, then turned toward the changing room as the applause erupted in the dojo.

  ~~~

  Tom followed behind as Wyatt guided his visitors out to the yard. He marveled at the sight and presence of the man who was his leader and his friend. Wyatt was a strikingly handsome man with an easy arrogance that was more appealing than off putting. He was tall and lean, but his powerful gait underscored his strong muscular body. His dark hair, warm brown skin, and high cheekbones spoke to his ancestry. His blue eyes, the give away to his half-breed status, twinkled when he took in Tom’s unusual garb. He turned to Arthur Stone and shook his head in mock dismay.

  “Now come on, Judge, you could have taken him by the hand and bought him a pair of work pants, couldn’t you? Christ, Tom, with all the money I pay you, that’s what you wear to a Wyoming ranch?”