And now a sizable part of his herd had disappeared.
He must be going nuts.
At the foot of the ravine, Kate stood still and listened for equine sounds. The wind soughed around her and she imagined she heard a sharp bark. Wrangler? Or a coyote? The sound wasn't repeated, so she picked her way along the stream in the direction the mustangs had fled, careful to keep her boots dry. She flicked on her flashlight where the ravine took a sharp turn.
Stopping at the curve's end, she whistled softly, the combination of notes the same as she'd used that afternoon. Rather than proceeding forward, she waited. Whistled. Waited. Whistled and waited some more.
Ears attuned to the night, she picked out a faint snort and the clack of hoof against limestone. A second later, a rock came clattering down the ravine behind her as if it had been kicked. Though she threw a nervous glance over her shoulder, she didn't really expect to see anything. The horses banded together and she knew they were stealing toward her from the opposite direction.
A gust of wind curled around her body, bringing with it other noises that had nothing to do with horses.
The wind.
What an idiot! Feeling silly, she settled herself inside and whistled again.
Her reward came in more answering snorts. More clacks. A soft whinny.
She discerned the mustangs' approach even before she saw them. Spread along the side of the ravine, they advanced in fits and starts. She knew they'd recognized her whistle and in some respect trusted her or they wouldn't have responded. She stared in their direction until her eyes adjusted and she could make out not only their pale markings, but the shapes of even the darkest mares.
A single nervous neigh and some quick-hoofed dancing on rock made her stop and catch her breath. She glanced around. Of course she was alone. But the wind was still gusting and they must have caught her scent. She'd purposely worn Doc's vest so the horses would not only smell her, but him, as well. Rather than scare them, she'd hoped to put them at ease with his familiar presence.
The mares continued to move in her direction, and if she weren't mistaken, with less hesitation. Relieved -- her plan seemed to be working -- she let go of her held breath and pursed her lips to repeat the familiar notes.
Within moments the girls were surrounding her, near enough to take treats from one hand while letting her touch them with the other. Kate slowly made her way through the small band, all the while edging closer to Sage, who stood tense and aloof from the others.
The breeze sprang up and the lead mare's nostrils quivered. Sage made a noise that sounded distinctly like horse-grumbling. Kate's pulse threaded unevenly as the grulla picked her way closer, leading with her twitching nose. That she smelled Doc apparently confused her. Sage cocked her head, eyeing Kate suspiciously.
"You remember Doc, don't you girl? He was your friend," she crooned, holding out a chunk of carrot to lure the horse closer. "Mine, too."
This time, Sage ignored the treat in her hand and went straight for the vest, burying her nose in the folds of the well-worn cotton and snorting loudly. Pleased, Kate ran her hand along the left side of Sage's neck beneath the shaggy mane, her fingertips finding the freeze mark that was the mare's government identification number.
Senses fine-tuned, Kate heard a sharp if distant bark, but was too enthralled with her success to worry about it. Warm horseflesh quaked against her palm. The mare seemed caught up in snuffling Doc's scent and making low noises in the back of her throat.
Giving Kate the distinct impression that Sage was mourning him.
Concentrating on what she'd seen of the stampede the last time, she closed her eyes and opened her mind. Other distorted impressions immediately filled the void...
. . . a sharp whine followed by horses bolting in every direction... thick white foam lathering a straining neck... wild eyes rolling...
Kate's heart began to pump as rapidly as if she were part of the band. Again, fear taunted her, but this time, not wanting to break her connection to Sage, she refused to let the emotion overwhelm her, not even when she heard the scream...
. . . human and yet not, the sound reverberated through her skull... struck terror in her heart... suddenly the sky charged with sheet lightning and tilted crazily... another whine... a dog barking... muscular bodies pushing at her from both sides and behind... she couldn't move... nowhere to go...
Sage threw up her head, momentarily breaking the connection. Kate whispered calming words, all the while stroking the mare's short thick neck with both hands.
"We can't stop now, Sage," she whispered, sounds eerily echoing through her head. Horse screams. Dog barking. "Not until I see everything. We can't stop," she repeated. "Not yet."
Not yet...
. . . sharp pain shot through her legs... a lurch forward... the sky breaking into a million shards... distorted images closer... a lathered bay... a freeze mark across a Paint's hindquarters... a dun dodging something below... human legs... boots suddenly dancing into air...
"Omigod!" Kate cried softly, tears squeezing through closed lashes. "Doc!"
Through Sage's haunting memory, she became witness to the stampede that had killed her mentor. The images were unlike anything that any human could have seen, however, for the horse's vision was not binocular. She was seeing two different views -- one from each eye -- simultaneously.
The effect was confusing, dizzying.
She forced herself to hang on a moment longer...
. . . dodging... weaving... circling... escaping into a thick, wet emptiness...
But not before she saw something that didn't compute.
Heart pounding against her ribs, Kate flashed open her eyes, the misplaced image clearly burned into her. Realizing she'd stopped breathing, she gasped and air exploded into her lungs and through her head, drowning out a sharp bark.
She'd been prepared to see Doc's death, but not this.
Not proof that his death had been no accident!
Chapter Six
STUNNED, KATE BARELY REGISTERED the click that cut through the night. Sage's ears pricked and she snorted.
A high-pitched whine, closer, made her start.
What the hell was that?
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Tension spread through the small band. All facing the direction from which she'd come, the mares were on alert -- nostrils quivering, ears twitching, hooves dancing. Kate flashed a quick look around the ravine but didn't see or hear anything out of place. With senses far more finely tuned than hers, however, the mares were on edge, muscles bunched, as if waiting for Sage's signal to flee.
Another high-pitched whine and the grulla pitched upward, rising on her hind legs, screaming her displeasure.
And an astonished Kate put a name to the sound.
A gunshot!
Instinct drove Kate toward cover, even as the wild horses exploded around her. Panicked, they bolted with her, and for a moment, she thought she might be forced down under their hooves. But as if some otherworldly force protected her, she remained untouched.
Dodging behind a boulder as the last of the mares darted past, she huddled against the cool rock and tried to make sense of what was happening. Why would someone be shooting at the horses?
Or was she the target?
Either way, she couldn't chance a noise or movement that might alert the gunman. She hunched into a ball and huddled against the boulder. The heat of fear seared her, sending rivulets of sweat rolling down her spine and between her breasts. She'd never been in a situation like this before.
What to do?
How could she protect herself?
Confusion filled her when minutes passed and she heard nothing more threatening than the wind. Had she imagined the gunshots, then? Maybe no one was waiting for her with a loaded rifle, after all. Maybe she was just freaked. Connecting with Sage had been such a powerful phenomenon... how could she be certain the supposed gunshots hadn't been nothing more than echoes of the experience rather than the whine of bull
ets speeding past her ear?
As much as she wanted to believe that, Kate couldn't. A very real threat had panicked those horses.
But a threat to whom? she wondered again.
Her mouth was dry, but her pulse had steadied. Uncoiling a bit, she strained to hear. Something. Anything.
Nothing.
No cocked rifle. No bullet whine. No skidding rock. Absolutely nothing to alarm her.
Was she safe, then? Or would leaving her hiding place make her the perfect target?
How much longer did she need to wait?
Suddenly something or someone scrabbling and slipping along pebbled rocks raised the hairs at the nape of her neck. Muscles bunched, Kate readied herself to run when a sharp bark made her pause. More barks.
Familiar barks.
Before she could fly to her feet, a furry body leaped over the boulder and lunged at her.
"Wrangler," she gasped in relief. Landing on her chest, he licked her face, wriggling as if he were trying to get inside her skin. Never so glad to see anyone, she hugged the mutt and ruffled his fur. "Let's get back to the pick-up and head for home."
But she'd barely moved from her shelter when the clop-clop of hooves spooked her. She froze and pinpointed the sound as metal hit rock. Her blood ran cold.
A shoed horse.
The gunman!
Blindly, she flew in the other direction, yelling, "Wrangler, c'mon!"
"Kate!"
Panicked, she didn't so much as pause at the sound of her name. She ran as fast as her legs would move, Wrangler alongside her, running and jumping and yapping as though they were playing a game.
"Kate, wait up!"
Hooves pounded the earth directly behind her as she clambered up the side of the ravine, Wrangler beating her to the flat above. He barked as if to spur her on, but she was tiring fast, could hardly catch her breath. The rider was gaining. She forced her legs to keep moving, even when she felt the horse's breath cross the back of her neck.
Sensing the rider dipping toward her, she yelled, "No-o-o!"
A band of steel hooked onto her waist and lifted her off her feet. She screamed and kicked out, her booted toe meeting his shin. A low male curse inspired her to more damage. Hand balled, she flashed out blindly, her fist meeting her attacker's middle.
With an "Oof" he dropped her.
Exhausted, winded, she sought the energy to get to her feet. But all she could do was lay there panting, staring up at the figure silhouetted by the moon.
Chase... rifle in hand.
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG with you?" Chase yelled.
He was seeing-red angry, not because Kate socked him, but because she was out here alone in the middle of the night. This was the kind of crazy stunt he would have expected of her when she was a kid. Obviously, she had never completely lost her wild streak.
"Me?" she gasped. "I'm not the one holding the weapon."
Realizing his rifle was aimed at her, Chase lowered it to a non-threatening position. "Satisfied?"
"Not by a long shot." A strangled giggle turned into a hiccup. "Stay away from me."
Wrangler barked and half-ran, half-slid down to Kate's side, where he sat, tongue lolling.
"Are you crazy?" he asked, more ticked off by the minute over her furtive excursion and those shots he'd heard. "Didn't you think you might get hurt out here?"
"Do you always shoot first, ask questions later?"
Chase went very still. Surely Kate couldn't believe he'd tried to shoot her. What would make her think he wanted to harm her in any way? Admittedly, he'd thought about throttling her for coming out here alone at night... and the temptation was growing stronger.
Stiffly, he informed her, "My rifle hasn't been fired."
"Right."
She didn't trust him. Clenching his jaw, he tossed the rifle down to her. "Your imagination's on overload. Check for yourself."
Kate felt the barrel, smelled the chamber, then looked up at him in astonishment. "It wasn't you." She scrambled to her feet and handed the weapon back to him. "Someone did shoot at me, honest. At least twice."
"I heard three shots," he admitted.
That someone had discharged a weapon wasn't in dispute. Once more Chase glared into the dark, as if he could pick out the perpetrator. But whoever had released a couple of loads in her direction was undoubtedly long gone. He secured the rifle to his saddle and held out his arm to her.
"Take my hand." He removed his foot from a stirrup. "And get up behind me." When she hesitated, he said, "Deadwood doesn't bite." Though he might be tempted.
For a moment, Chase thought Kate would balk at the order, but apparently she was more concerned about being alone on foot than about sacrificing her autonomy. She slipped her hand in his, stuck her boot in the stirrup and bounced upward, swinging her free leg over his horse's rump.
Her settling in behind him reminded Chase of a night they'd ridden out into the wilderness together many years ago.
A night it shamed him to remember.
Wondering if Kate could possibly know the whole truth, he felt his anger slip away. And even if she'd remained in the dark all these years, she still had good reason to distrust him. Clucking, he moved his horse back along the ravine the way he'd come. Wrangler scampered alongside them, every so often racing ahead and waiting for them to catch up.
"So what were you doing out here?" he asked, though he figured he already knew.
"What are you doing out here on a horse?" she returned. "You told me the mustangs would be freaked by anyone who was mounted."
"I wasn't here to check on the mustangs."
"Then what?"
"I couldn't sleep," he hedged. Strictly speaking, he wasn't lying. Thinking about how he'd planned to spend the wee hours before dawn had kept him awake until it was time to leave. "What about you?"
"Neither could I."
Chase didn't believe her for a moment. The questions could wait, he decided, not unaware of Kate's trembling against him despite her argumentative attitude. How could he miss it when she was pressed so close that a sheet of paper wouldn't fit between them? He adjusted in his saddle, trying to find some zone of comfort.
Taking an unauthorized tour of Lockridge Acres would have to wait. He really should throttle Kate for screwing up his plans. Now if she knew the whereabouts of his horses, Thea Lockridge had another day to cover.
When they reached the pick-up, Wrangler jumped into the back and watched as he helped Kate down, then quickly dismounted. Not unaware of the way she was eyeing him distrustfully, he tied Deadwood's reins to a metal loop on the truck.
"I'm all right now," she said.
"Good."
"Then what are you planning on doing?"
"Driving."
"My pick-up?"
"I don't see any other vehicles." He grabbed his rifle and slid behind the wheel. "What are you waiting for?"
Without further argument, Kate climbed in beside him. Chase figured she was more shook up than she wanted to admit. She'd always had bravado, one of the many things he'd admired about her when they were younger. But whatever was going on at the refuge was serious business.
And a little misplaced bravado could get Kate killed.
GOING OVER AND OVER what she'd seen when her mind had merged with Sage's, Kate kept her peace until Chase stopped the pick-up and cut the engine. Startled back to reality, she felt disoriented. She'd been too preoccupied to pay attention to their route, although she had noticed how uncharacteristically slowly Chase had been driving in deference to his horse. She glanced out the passenger window at a solitary log cabin that she'd never seen before.
"Where are we?"
Chase was already leaving the cab, her keying in hand, when he said, "Home."
His home, of course, not hers.
Not that she was in any big hurry to drive back to town alone – she was still spooked and rightly so – Kate decided not letting Chase boss her around was a matter of principle. She flew across the seat and
out the door, catching up to him before he reached his horse. She grabbed his arm to make him pay attention.
"My keys?"
He slid them into his pocket. "Later."
"Now."
Her mouth went dry with the challenge that Chase ignored. She could feel his stare from beneath his hat brim. Her pulse picked up a beat. The flesh beneath her fingers burned as something other than animosity flared between them. She let go of his arm as fast as she would a hot poker, the kiss that never should have happened clear in her mind.
Why couldn't she just be immune to him, Kate wondered. What hold could he possibly have over her after all these years? After the way he'd broken her heart?
Chase was the first to break away. He untied Deadwood from the gate. Pulse steadying, Kate watched him lead the dark gelding to a large corral that held two other dozing horses. In record time, he stripped off his mount's saddle and bridle. After checking the horse over to make certain he'd cooled down, Chase turned him out.
And before he could catch her watching him, Kate spun around to pay some attention to the dog, who'd quietly moved across the truck's bed to be closer to her. She ruffled Wrangler's fur and blew in his nose, then pulled a smelly tidbit from one of her vest pockets.
"Do you believe that man's nerve, keeping us here against our will?" As the dog eagerly took the treat from her hand and crunched away, she said, "Thanks for coming to my rescue, roomy."
"What about me?" Chase was directly behind her, his warm breath laving her exposed neck. "Don't I deserve your thanks, too?"
Quick as a flash, she spun around, at the same time palming another liver-flavored biscuit. "Right. Thanks." She offered him the dog treat.
Again his expression was shadowed when he dryly said, "I'll pass," and walked right on by her. Fetching his rifle from the cabin, he headed for the house.
Leaving Kate feeling awful. He really had come to her rescue, and how had she repaid him? First she'd accused him of using her for target practice. And now she'd responded by mocking him. Truth to tell, she wasn't in a playful mood. She was still spooked inside, and joking around was her way of working out the stress.
The McKenna Legacy Trilogy Page 48