He hadn't been sorry that she'd sought his comfort. Instinctively, she'd pulled close to him, had touched him without self-consciousness. And even in a tense situation, her very nearness had distracted him until Calamity got so restless. Kate had responded instantly, however, quieting the roan with her magic. Amazing.
She handed over Deadwood's reins and they moved back into the open. Certain she wouldn't be appreciative now that the threat of danger had passed, he fought the urge to wrap a protective arm around her.
"Why do you think Thea brought those men out here?" she asked, an edge to her voice.
"To close some real estate deal."
"Okay, but why in this place and why in the middle of the night?"
Good question. One Chase didn't have the answer to. Just as he couldn't say for sure what the enclosure and cage were doing in the midst of nowhere. He could make an intelligent guess, though, and that made his stomach churn.
"I really don't like this."
"Neither do I." Kate took a long look at the cage, then at him. Forehead furrowed, she said, "Tell me what you're thinking."
Chase took a deep breath and went over the facts as he saw them. "The place is purposely secluded. Our horses have weird reactions to the area, due, as you said, to the smell of death. Then we find a large animal pen in the middle of nowhere... not to mention a cage. And Thea talks about primal energies and night vision goggles."
"Remember the animal trophies decorating her home." Kate waited a beat before adding, "Illegal hunts?"
Their minds were in tune. Not that Chase was surprised. He'd always given Kate credit for her smarts.
"We don't have proof."
"Even if we did, what could we do about it? She spoke of having a business relationship with the right people -- undoubtedly Thea was indicating she has the law in her pocket."
"Pocketbook," Chase amended.
"So what do we do?"
"Put our suspicions on hold until we have time to deal with them. The mustangs are still missing," he reminded her. "And Doc Weber is still dead."
KATE HAD WALKED OVER TO ROWDY'S BAR and Gruel and had ridden to the refuge with Chase, so she had no choice but to let him see her home. Truth be told, she was glad for the company...even if she didn't feel much like talking. Their trek had spooked her good, and the reminder of Doc's death preyed on her mind.
By the time they arrived in Bitter Creek, she suspected dawn wasn't far from creeping over the horizon. She glanced at Chase, who seemed to be fighting to stay awake and was concerned that he'd fall asleep at the wheel on the return drive.
That's why, when he pulled up in front of the house, she said, "You'd probably better come in and get some shut-eye before heading back."
"And shock your neighbors when they see the Bronco parked outside your door?"
"Neighbors" was a bit of an exaggeration considering the Weber home stood at the far end of town where houses sat on properties big enough to graze riding stock.
"I'll take the chance. And you won't even have to sleep on the couch." Thinking of the empty rooms in the old house, she added, "You can have your pick of beds."
She wasn't ready for his "There's only one bed that I'm interested in."
Kate flushed and her insides stirred at Chase's intimate tone. Maybe he wasn't as tired as she'd assumed. Too late to rescind her invitation. And she was too emotionally worn to think of a clever response that would make light of the tension that lay between them -- if, at times, hiding below the surface.
"Come in if you can behave yourself," she said bluntly.
When she left the truck, he did likewise.
Spending so much time with Chase was beginning to feel normal -- even if the circumstances were anything but. Kate knew that backing up and getting out of her commitment was the only way to protect herself. But that was impossible. She'd gotten in too deep. Any peace she gained would be tempered by an overwhelming guilt. Too much remained at stake for her to think only of herself.
Doc's death.
The fate of the mustangs.
The well-being of anyone else who stumbled over the truth.
A mature adult, Kate decided she could deal with whatever curves the fates threw her way in regard to Chase Brody. She would have to concentrate on her priorities.
To that end, they were barely inside the front door before she asked him, "Do you think Doc could have known what was going on at Lockridge Acres?"
She stooped to rough up a yawning Wrangler who'd been sleeping near the entrance, waiting for her return.
"He didn't say a word to me."
"Me, neither."
Though Kate wondered if he'd entered any thoughts on the subject in his journal. Something to check on.
With a sharp whistle, she indicated the dog could go out, then waited for him in the doorway.
"If he suspected," she went on, "what if he faced Thea and threatened to blow the whistle on her?"
"Doc was smarter than that. Besides, he was killed on refuge property. Our villain came to him. More likely stumbled on him in the process of removing the mustangs and used the situation to keep Doc from talking."
Wrangler trotted back inside, so Kate closed the door and moved toward the living room. Sliding out of her jacket, she tossed the garment on a stack of her unpacked boxes. Her mind lingered on the stampede. On the drive home, she'd gone over and over the memory she'd shared with Sage, but she hadn't come up with anything more telling.
"You're not saying Thea couldn't be responsible, are you?"
"Not at all. But at this point, let's not exclude anyone else. As far as I'm concerned, everyone is suspect until we get some kind of proof."
He had a point. Even if Thea were up to some illegal activity on her own property -- added to the fact that she was determined to buy a good portion of refuge land -- that didn't make her guilty of murder.
"Still, Thea's a vile woman." Turning on a single table lamp to low, Kate dropped into the chair Doc had favored. The dog settled at her feet. "She even had to get in that shot about Merle, calling her a whore. Where does she --"
"Pure spite," Chase quickly cut in, his back to her. Though it was still dark outside, he was facing the windows as if he had a fine view of his surroundings. "I'm sure Thea is aware that Merle has no use for her and is willing to say anything to make Merle look bad."
Something about his clipped tone got to Kate. What he was saying was undoubtedly true. So why did she have the feeling he was uncomfortable discussing the topic? Appropriately suspicious where he was concerned, she let her mind take her somewhere she didn't want to go: Chase and Merle together.
In the same class in school, they'd hung around together as teenagers. Not that Kate had ever noticed anything romantic going on between them.
Still...
Chase moved away from the windows, but even then he remained in shadow. His being unreadable was somehow fitting. For Chase was as much of enigma to her now as he had been when he'd abandoned her. She couldn't take anything about him on face value.
Half-stretching out on the couch, he set his hat on top of the papers and books still covering the coffee table. "We never did finish our conversation about Nathan."
Which sounded like an excuse to switch topics away from Merle. He must have had his share of women in the past eighteen years. Nothing to say Merle Zwick couldn't have been one of them.
"What didn't we cover?" she asked.
"Your opinion. What about Nathan's wanting the land returned to the Lakota?"
If Chase and Merle had had a thing together, Kate mused, the affair was obviously in the past or Merle wouldn't have flirted with Hank. Or maybe Merle had dumped Chase and he hadn't quite gotten over it. Not that she cared who Chase had slept with since her.
Not much.
Swallowing her uncalled for resentment, Kate said, "There's a big difference between wanting something and making it happen."
"You know him as well as anyone. Better than me. How much loyalty does he
have to his people?"
"Who are Nathan's people?" she asked. "He was never overly fond of reservation life as a kid. He was always torn between his Native American and white roots. He went off to San Francisco to study fine arts and stayed away for years after graduating."
"But he's here now," Chase said, "living on the rez."
"Only because his mother died and left him her land. Artists can starve before they make a name for themselves. Moving back to the reservation might have been a matter of simple economics rather than some indication that he's suddenly become a militant activist. Besides which, you started the refuge, what -- seven or eight years ago? Why would he have waited so long to start making trouble?"
"Opportunity. We've only been on real shaky ground financially for a little more than two years. Nathan first came to work for me late last summer -- after the refuge was vulnerable. He had enough time to get to know the operation, to figure out what could go wrong. And he had the whole winter to think about it. Make plans."
Chase had already told her he couldn't afford to pay a staff during the winter months, so she knew opportunities to do harm would have been nil then. And the trouble had begun in late spring. She'd already wondered if Nathan's being part of the refuge staff suited some dark purpose...
"Nathan was a pretty jealous kid," she admitted. "He didn't like his father paying so much attention to me, so he tried to get even whenever he could."
"I witnessed a few of those fights," Chase reminded her.
"He was always up front about his anger, though."
"He was a kid then. He's older now. Maybe more clever about getting his way. Who knows what kind of prejudice he might have suffered away from the rez? He could see getting the land back for the Lakota as a personal vindication for things he himself has suffered."
"I already thought of that," Kate admitted. "But --"
"Doc didn't save his life, too, did he?"
"Not to my knowledge." Unlike Buck, Nathan had no reason to owe Doc anything.
Too tired to think straight, Kate lay her head against the chair back and yawned. Suddenly the idea that a couple of amateurs could figure out who was trying to destroy the refuge seemed ludicrous to her.
Thea... Buck... Nathan...
Who next?
If she and Chase hashed over every possible grievance long enough, she was certain they could turn everyone else connected with the place into a viable suspect.
Annie... Whit... even Merle.
"My brain is mush. I'm waving the white flag," she groaned, allowing her tired eyes to drift closed. "I surrender."
"You'd better get to bed, then."
"What about you?"
That Chase didn't immediately answer got her attention. Whipping open her eyes, Kate realized he was towering over her. She stared up into his face, caught by a fleeting and familiar vulnerability. Suddenly aware of her heartbeat, Kate knew she should do something, say anything to break the tenuous connection.
No words came.
Then Chase was reaching for her. His fingers slid around her wrist and pulled her arm toward him. With sensation radiating from where his hand dominated hers, she allowed the rest of her to follow, stopping mere centimeters from their bodies colliding.
When he murmured, "I told you what interested me," the power of his meaning shuddered through her.
Kate stood transfixed, afraid to blink. Moving slowly enough that she had time to escape if she so chose, Chase slid his hand up from her wrist to her elbow to her shoulder. He was barely touching her, yet she was feeling thoroughly seduced. Her pulse thrummed and every nerve in her body burned as if he'd set it afire.
His breath caressing her face, he softly ordered, "Kiss me, Kate."
Strangely mesmerized, she obeyed. Rising her to her toes, she brushed her mouth across his. A light meeting of lips, no more.
His intake of breath was gratifying. His return kiss a sensual demand.
Too languid to fight herself as well as Chase, Kate gave over, sliding both hands up his chest and around his neck. She lost herself in the moment -- became weak-kneed and light-headed, almost as if she were a little drunk. When his tongue slid into her mouth, she nuzzled it with her own.
Groaning, he crushed her to him. His hands slid downward to cup her backside. And when he tilted her into him, she knew the potency of his hunger. Instant desire washed over her -- a sinking, drowning, glorious sensation.
Kate's right brain imagined Chase undressing her and making love to her where they stood. But her left brain freed her mouth of his.
Though Chase still had the power to make her want him, her own words echoed back to her: There's a difference between wanting something and making it happen.
Kate knew she should be routing Chase, sending him on his way. Instead, she was staring into the face she had once loved too well, more than anything wishing she could get inside his head.
How long? she wondered.
If she were to weaken completely, how long would Chase stay interested in her this time? If the refuge went the way of most good intentions, would he go with it? She certainly could imagine him riding into the sunset without ever saying a word to her.
That knowledge made her say, "You'd better go or you'll never get any sleep."
His gaze was steady. "Maybe I don't care."
"Maybe I do."
He realized she was serious. She could see it in the subtle shift of his expression. Still, he didn't let go of her immediately. He appeared torn... and for a moment, she thought he might try to convince her otherwise.
But in the end, his expression blanked and he stepped back.
And Kate endured his loss all over again.
Chapter Nine
FALLING ASLEEP WELL AFTER DAWN, Kate got a late start for her first appointment. She was eating breakfast on the run -- Wrangler shadowing her, hoping for a tidbit -- when the ringing phone stopped her from opening the front door.
She spun around, practically tripping over the dog. Annoyed, she cried, "Not under my feet!"
Wrangler hung his head and let his tail droop. Immediately contrite -- her lack of sleep wasn't his fault -- Kate offered the dog her last bite of English muffin as the phone rang a second time. Wondering if Chase might be calling, she made it to the end table and picked up the receiver before it could sound again.
"Kate Farrell."
"You're out of breath."
"Hi, Neil." Telling herself she was not disappointed at hearing her brother's voice, she explained, "I was heading out the door."
"Then I'm glad I caught you. This'll only take a minute. I already heard from Keelin this morning."
Keelin McKenna. No, she amended, Keelin Leighton now. So much had happened in two days that she'd totally forgotten about the imminent arrival of her Irish cousin.
"Did Keelin tell you when she and her new husband might get into town?"
"Late this afternoon. Mom is so nervous, she's already starting dinner."
"Dinner?" Kate pulled a face. She knew what that meant. "What time?"
"Seven. And she said not to be late. She won't have any excuses."
Not even her trying to find a murderer? Not that Kate would tell her family anything that would put them in a panic.
"How's Dad taking it?"
"In silence. Mom's not speaking to him, either."
Great. An uncomfortable meal to look forward to -- if her father was even present. Just a little storm cloud to add more stress to her day.
At least her work went smoothly. She gave Lou Sussman's new bull a clean bill of health. Julia Blake's horse had recuperated fully from the colic. And other than having to worm them again, she found that Mark Randall's pet burros were thriving nicely on an altered diet.
Kate kept herself so busy all morning that she didn't have time to think about the refuge -- rather, Chase -- until she was consuming a late lunch she'd bought on the drive out. The ham sandwich was a little dry because the kid who'd made it had forgotten the mayo, but she w
as hungry enough to devour every bite and wash it down with a whole can of soda.
No use denying that she was weakening toward Chase. Even trying to charge up her old anger had become a futile effort. She would never forget how he'd broken her heart, but she was finally allowing herself some perspective on the situation. They'd been so young that, sooner or later, something had been bound to tear them apart. Her going off to college, for example. Then she would have been the one to leave Chase behind.
Of course she wouldn't have done so as callously as he had, Kate assured herself. He would have known where she was. He would have been able to call or write. They would have seen each other during her many school vacations. But, in all honesty, Kate couldn't say their relationship would have remained constant.
And she couldn't forget that she had fallen in love with and had married another man years ago. She certainly hadn't been thinking about Chase Brody then.
But she was thinking about him now. Constantly. Why?
Pulling up to the refuge office, she chose to leave the question unanswered for the moment. Buck was just taking out an afternoon tour, while other tourists were heading for their cars. Chase's Bronco was nowhere in sight.
Kate stuffed her sandwich wrapper and empty can into a paper sack that she took with her upon leaving the pick-up. At the garbage can, she sensed a furtive movement -- Annie slipping from her office onto the front porch. Without so much as a greeting, the volunteer stared at her through the screened wall. Silence thick with animosity pebbled the skin along Kate's arms.
Unable to tolerate the uncomfortable quiet, she called out, "Hey, Annie," in a normal, friendly tone. She moved toward the steps, wondering what in the world had gotten the volunteer's back up. "Where did Chase get himself off to?"
"I thought you were the expert on that. You were with him all night."
Kate winced at the other woman's obvious assumption. Expression sullen, Annie opened the screen door and stood square in the opening, arms crossed over her chest, as if she meant to prevent Kate from entering the building. Though she'd like to put the jealous woman's mind at ease, she couldn't.
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