The McKenna Legacy Trilogy

by Patricia Rosemoor

  "Look," Brody said, trying to sound reasonable, "you know the rules."

  "Rules were meant to be broken."

  "Not around here." The refuge manager latched onto a post so hard his knuckles turned white. "I've told you before -- stay on this side of the creek."

  "This side gets pretty tedious." A few months ago, Whit wouldn't have smart-mouthed the other man, but in his mind, the balance of power had shifted. "And my customers would rather get sight of the mustangs."

  "They can do that on a tour. I'm warning you, don't cross me on this."

  "Or you'll what?" Whit sucked on his rotting teeth, thinking that if his luck held, he'd be able to afford himself a dentist. "I don't work for you, so you can't fire me. I got myself a contract for the season all legal like."

  "One I don't have to renew."

  "And lose the money I bring in for this godforsaken place?" Let him try to find someone else who owned a big string of horses and the tack to go with them like he did. Fat chance. "You need the money I turn over and we both know it."

  Whit hated like hell giving thirty per cent to the refuge when he didn't even have free run of the site. At least that was his rationalization of why he'd taken to miscounting the numbers of riders whenever he thought he could get away with it. But that little bitch in the office had caught him cheating a few weeks back, and she'd been keeping her eye out on him since. Not that he'd stopped. He'd merely learned to be more careful.

  "Look, Spivey, I'm concerned about the horses."

  Whit felt like snorting. Brody was singing a different tune now. "They ain't babes at their mothers' tits anymore. They survived a whole lot worse than being ogled by a bunch o' strangers."

  "You're right. They've survived hell and I'm not letting them go back and relive it."

  "If my customers don't think they got their money's worth, they won't come back... or tell their friends what a good time they had here."

  Finally losing it, Brody shouted, "I don't give a damn!"

  "No shit! That's why you're runnin' this place into the ground."

  He glared at the other man until a movement caught his eye. Buck Duran was hobbling in their direction from the office, his limp more pronounced than usual, reminding Whit of what he'd learned about Brody's past. Who was he to play Mr. High and Mighty?

  "A man's gotta make a living. At least those of us who ain't saints like you!"

  Brody's color deepening, he looked as though he were going to get physical. Then he got control of himself and stalked off, passing Buck as he said, "I can always find someone to take your place. Remember that."

  Threats pissed him off. Whit narrowed his gaze after the other man, loathing tying up his guts. Chase Brody's babysitting a bunch of over aged, broken down horses didn't make him noble. Hell, that made him plain stupid, and he deserved whatever he got.

  "Hey, Whit."

  He acknowledged the man who stopped just short of the lean-to. "Buck."

  "Annie was real busy, so she asked me to come down here and ask you to bring today's cut up to the office as soon as possible. She wants to make the deposit tonight."

  Bull! Miss Goody-Two-Shoes was keeping an extra close eye on him. "Probably needs every penny to balance the bank account," he said, barely able to hide his rancor.

  "Yeah, the refuge is in trouble, all right."

  Whit rose. "Man, it's been a long day." His customers had all drifted away and the kid was hard at work taking care of the horses. "Teddy!" he yelled to get the boy's attention. "Can you finish up yourself?"

  Teddy said, "Sure, Mr. Spivey, I don't mind," just as Whit figured he would. Kid was horse crazy or he wouldn't break his back for peanuts.

  To Buck he said, "Come on, I'll walk with you." He grabbed his hat and stuffed it on his head as he went.

  Buck shuffled fast to keep up with him. "So, is Chase on your case about something?" he asked, a loopy smile decorating his boyish face.

  "He wants to tell me how to run my business. Don't really bother me none," Whit lied. "I reckon I'll head for town and a coupla cold beers after I stop by the office." An intriguing thought occurred to him. "Care to join me?"

  "Sure, why not? Eating that dust all day works up a man's thirst."

  Knowing that the refuge manager was responsible for Buck's being a cripple as well as his brother's death, Whit figured it would be unnatural if, underneath that big grin, he didn't hate Brody, too. Maybe it was time to find out how much.

  An ally could be useful.

  KATE'S ARMS WERE FULL as she pushed into Doc's house, Wrangler crowding her legs.

  "Hey, watch that, you rotten mutt!" she said good-naturedly, setting the big box of personal items on the coffee table.

  Wrangler sat and whistled through his nose, but he'd lost some of his sad air, as though he understood she would try to fill some of the void Doc had left.

  She sat cross-legged on the floor and patted the area next to her. The dog rushed to her side, sticking his cold nose in her face. Kate laughed and Wrangler tried to lick the inside of her lips.

  Pulling back, she complained, "Ooh, not dog kisses!"

  The mutt merely became more determined to give her some affection and stepped all over her. Kate hugged him and ruffled his fur.

  "Want to help me check out what's in this box?" she asked. "Of course, you do. Sit."

  With a little physical maneuvering, she managed to convince him to sit next to her. Then she removed the lid from the box. The top item was an old scrapbook she'd started in high school. She turned back the cover and several pages of photographs of her family and schoolmates.

  "Do you recognize him?" she asked Wrangler, pointing to a picture of Doc and a scrawny stray cat whose broken leg he'd set.

  But the glossy held little interest for the dog. Apparently appreciative of her company, however, he remained at her side, watching her page through her youth. The scrapbook held so many memories, including ones she'd rather forget, Kate thought, pausing at a photo of her with Chase. Her feelings for him had been plain enough to see. She wondered if he'd ever looked at her close enough to recognize them.

  Not wanting to dwell on her unresolved anger, she continued pouring through the scrapbook, keeping Wrangler's attention with a running dialogue that he seemed to understand. When she came to the photographs of her and Jake and his family, however, she fell silent. Their marriage ending so quickly had left her with still-unresolved questions.

  She hadn't added anything to the scrapbook since... except for the letter from her Irish grandmother, Moira McKenna.

  Opening the thick, cream-colored sheet of paper, she read the missive, which ironically, she'd received on the eve of her divorce.

  To my darling Kathleen,

  I leave you my love and more. Within thirty-three days after your thirty-third birthday -- enough time to know what you are about -- you will have in your grasp a legacy of which your dreams are made. Dreams are not always tangible things, but more often are born in the heart. Act selflessly in another's behalf, and my legacy shall be yours.

  Your loving grandmother,

  Moira McKenna

  P.S. Use any other inheritance from me wisely and only for good lest you harm yourself or those you love.

  Neil had received an identical copy, she knew -- as had Quin, though Mom had been obliged to mail his to wherever in the world he'd been at the time. Neil had speculated that Moira had sent the same letter to all nine of her American and Irish grandchildren, but Kate had been of no mind to discuss the matter at length.

  While she'd appreciated the sincerity of Moira's bequest -- the dying woman had obviously wanted her grandchildren to be happy after the way each of her own children had blemished their personal lives with prejudice and anger -- Kate had realized she'd already blown her chance at happiness.

  "Act selflessly in another's behalf, and my legacy shall be yours," she quoted to Wrangler, who tilted his head as if trying to understand.

  Even now, she wondered if she had bee
n too selfish to be married. Maybe she should have given up being a veterinarian and started having babies as Jake had demanded of her. Not that she didn't want kids. She was well aware of her biological clock tick-tick-ticking away. But she hadn't seen that doing what she'd been born to do and having a family were mutually exclusive.

  And before they married, neither had Jake.

  What it came down to, she suspected, was that her husband had never truly believed in her special ability to communicate with animals, but had humored her while it suited him. Just as Chase had done. In either case, she shouldn't have been surprised. People who couldn't relate to something beyond their own reality had given her a lot of guff over the years. Outwardly, she'd remained unaffected by their laughter and derision, but inside, she'd been hurt.

  Her mother had told her she'd inherited her gift from her grandmother. Kate had always wondered if Moira had suffered for being different, as well.

  Her gaze strayed back to the letter.

  "Within thirty-three days after your thirty-third birthday... " Ironic. "I was thirty-three last week," she told the dog. "Grandmother's timing was a bit off, wouldn't you say?"

  Wrangler's tail thumped in agreement.

  No man in her life. No man who even interested her. As if to put a lie to her thoughts, Chase came to mind. But he'd left her once and she had only hostile feelings toward him. Mostly hostile feelings, she amended, remembering the moment she'd first seen him at the cemetery.

  No matter, she had to be the problem. Something within her kept men from accepting and loving her as she was. Because she was different? She'd had no luck with Chase. No luck with marriage to Jake. The well-intentioned wishes of her grandmother were just that, at least in her case, Kate decided sadly, refolding the letter and burying it in the scrapbook.

  "The McKenna Legacy is a pretty tale," she told the dog, snuggling with him. "But not for the likes of me."

  Chapter Four

  NATHAN LANTERO WAITED for the rendezvous in the observation tower, which was located on the highest point of the refuge. He stared out at the land that should belong to his people. The Lakota considered the Paha Sapa -- the Black Hills -- a sacred place.

  Hundreds of years ago the Anasazi had mined these southern hills for flint. They'd left behind pictographs carved into the limestone walls -- the legacy of Native Americans. The refuge held part of that legacy. The Lakota had been negotiating with the governor to buy the state-owned property when Chase Brody had stepped in with an alternate plan. That a white man had swayed the governor away from his original negotiations had come as no surprise.

  Spotting the Bronco winding around a curve, Nathan descended the wooden stairs, careful to avoid the danger spots caused by rotting wood and missing boards. Like most everything else on the refuge, the observation tower needed serious repair if not demolition. And the way things were headed, he doubted Brody would get it together before losing the place.

  He sauntered over to Merle, who was sitting in the back of her pick-up, passing time with Gerry and Lyne, a pair of pretty dark-haired sisters in their early twenties, who had volunteered their two weeks' vacations to the refuge.

  "Brody's here," he told them. The truck was just pulling up to the site.

  "Finally."

  Getting to her feet, Merle threw her legs over the side of the pick-up and dropped to the ground, Gerry and Lyne following but hanging back. Brody and Kate left the Bronco. He couldn't help but notice the tension between them. Kate purposely put distance between her and the refuge manager.

  Without preamble, Brody asked Merle, "So what did you find?"

  "Nothing you're going to like."

  Nathan added, "We think a bunch of horses went over that downed fence unless they somehow picked their way to the west pasture."

  "How many?"

  "Give or take a few we mighta missed, thirty-seven in the north pasture, and another eleven in the east."

  "That makes nearly a hundred, then."

  "We could look forever," Merle said, "and never find them all."

  "We'd better," Brody said, "or I'll have to make a report to the BLM. Missing horses won't look good for us."

  Rather for him. Nathan knew the man was worried that the BLM would consider him irresponsible. The government would have the right to pull the remaining horses still under the BLM's protection out from under him. Then his big dream would collapse.

  And his people would have another opportunity to buy back what was rightfully theirs, Nathan thought.

  "The horses couldn't have strayed too far, right?" Kate asked.

  "Let's hope not," Brody said, though he didn't look optimistic. "We'll have to check with the surrounding ranches, see if anyone has spotted loose mustangs. Nathan, you take the Double K and Rocking Horse. Merle, check with the Johnson Ranch and Big Sky. Kate and I will pay Thea Lockridge a visit."

  "And welcome to her," Merle muttered.

  "We'll meet back at the office before dark."

  Knowing he was being sent on a fool's errand, Nathan signaled Gerry. "Let's get going."

  Dark eyes sparkling, she asked, "Want me to drive?"

  He was distracted from answering by Kate's saying, "Chase, I need a minute to talk to Nathan first."

  That took him by surprise.

  Brody nodded curtly. "Don't take too long."

  "Let's go over there." Kate cocked her head toward the observation tower.

  Curious, he followed. Noting that she seemed on edge even away from Brody, he asked, "So what's up?" the moment they were out of hearing range of the others.

  "We located the mares Doc had been treating. I checked them over to make certain they were fit. When I got to Sage -- she's the leader -- the weirdest thing happened. I couldn't really talk to someone as skeptical as Chase about it. I figured if anyone would understand, you would."

  Nathan knew all about Kate's being able to merge her spirit with that of an animal, an ability his late father had helped her to develop -- the main reason he'd given her such a hard time when they were kids. He hadn't believed that his father could give so much regard to someone else's child without his losing something. And he'd been resentful that she had an ability considered to be within the province of his own people. One far stronger than his own.

  "What did you see, Kate?"

  "Running horses. I sensed their fright... and Sage's terror. The feelings were so overwhelming, that I pulled away from the images too soon. But even with my eyes open, the intensity didn't go away. My heart felt as if it were pounding out of my chest. My reaction panicked Sage and she took off." Obviously still affected, she took a shaky breath. "Nathan, I've never had such a powerful experience before."

  Wary of where this would lead, he asked, "What do you think it means?"

  "I was hoping you could tell me."

  "I'm not the one who had the vision." Besides, he wanted to know her thoughts. "And it sounds like you already have an opinion."

  "This may sound crazy, but I imagined that I saw a stampede... maybe the one that killed Doc."

  When he'd suggested she vet the wild horses, he'd figured she would be a distraction for Brody. Somehow her tuning into Doc's death hadn't occurred to him.

  "That would make sense, wouldn't it?" she went on. "The accident happened less than a week ago. Maybe I should try again."

  "So you can torture yourself?" Nathan shook his head. "Better that you try to forget you saw anything. I know how close you and Doc were. Dwelling on his death can only bring you more heartache."

  Suddenly aware they weren't alone, he glanced over his shoulder. Gerry had trailed after him and was waiting a few yards back. Close enough to hear?

  "Or maybe it'll give me some answers," Kate was saying.

  Nathan refocused his attention on her. He recognized the set of her jaw. He knew when to back off. No good would come of her probing deeper. But if he objected too strongly, she'd go ahead and try again for sure.

  So all he said was, "Let me know if I can
be of help. You can always talk to me."

  That way he'd know exactly what was going on.

  "YOU AND LANTERO HAVE something going?"

  Chase posed the question only after they turned onto land identified as Lockridge Acres by a billboard-sized sign -- and as casually as if her answer meant nothing to him. Not that Kate bought the blasé attitude. She'd seen Chase glaring at her and Nathan from a distance. He'd looked less than pleased -- downright ticked, actually -- but she'd merely assumed he'd guessed her purpose and hadn't liked being left out of the loop where it concerned his horses.

  Now she was wondering if his reaction weren't more personal. Her pulse threaded unevenly at the thought. Even though she reminded herself that she was too smart to be sucked in by Chase again, she couldn't help herself.

  She asked, "What's it to you?" and avidly watched for his reaction.

  But he kept his expression passive when he took his eyes off the gravel drive long enough to glance at her. "Just trying to catch up."

  "I'll bet you are."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You never were much interested in anything that didn't concern you directly."

  Making her think that she might concern him. Was it possible?

  "Maybe I'm not the same person I once was."

  Definitely possible, Kate realized, her heart skipping a beat. Chase certainly hadn't grown any more sociable with the years. But maybe he'd changed inside, where it counted. Not that he'd been a bad person, simply self-absorbed. Twenty years ago, she would never have imagined him as being selfless. Why else would he devote himself to taking care of horses that no one wanted?

  When she didn't respond to his statement, he pressed her. "Or don't you think a man can change?"

  Irritated that part of her wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when her rational self saw the danger in her letting down her guard, Kate snapped, "In your case, that's about as likely as a leopard changing its spots into stripes."

  Chase tightened his jaw and stared straight ahead.