Chuckling, Kam removed the funnel from the bottle after Iris was done pouring the contents. The used muslin went on a small pile. Fresh, clean muslin was used on every mother essence and never twice. The used funnels went into a box and would later be washed.
“He’s a good man,” Kam murmured. “I just don’t want to rush things, though. Wes is going through hell right now. His mother needs a ranch foreman and he’s got enough to deal with. And so do I.” She gave Iris a loving look. “I just found my father and grandmother. I’m going through huge changes, too.”
“Well,” Iris told her briskly, “you have time. Wes is staying here, and spending your dinners together is a real good idea.”
“I’m glad you understand,” Kam said, relieved.
“Who wants to sit at dinner with Allison glowering?” she snorted. “I tell you, Kam, it’s hard for me to stay quiet about how she’s treating you. And those two kids are taking their cues from her. They should treat you with respect.”
Reaching out, Kam squeezed the woman’s darkly tanned arm. “Now, we don’t have to worry about it, do we?”
“You still have breakfast and lunch with us,” Iris reminded her.
“I can handle that,” Kam assured her. “Things will settle down. Eventually, there will be a truce between Allison and me.”
“Don’t bet on it,” Iris growled. She sat up and placed her hands in the lap of her apron. “Once Allison decides you are her enemy, it stays that way. I’m her enemy, but she knows I own this ranch. To her, you’re nothing.”
Kam sighed. “I know…and I feel badly about all of this.”
“It’s not your fault, Kam. Rudd and I love you, and we’re the two people who count.” Iris gripped Kam’s fingers. “Just be careful.”
“I will.”
“Good!” Iris released her hand and stood up. She took off her apron and set it on the table. “After lunch today, I want to go to the Twin Hills area. Chappy told me he saw some of my wildflowers in bloom. I’m going to fill my saddlebags. Want to come along? I’ll bet Freckles would love to get a trail ride in.”
Laughing, Kam stood up and set her apron on the table. “I’d love to!”
ALLISON PEEKED through the pink curtains of her suite. She saw Iris and Kam riding off in the direction of Twin Hills. Was André Jenkins out there? Did he see Kam? Would he follow her? She fumed because there were no forthcoming answers. Allison dropped the curtain back into place. After smoothing out the wrinkles in her cream-colored linen slacks, Allison nervously touched her fuchsia blouse. She rearranged her chunky gold necklace and sighed out of pure frustration. She hated not having control. It left her feeling like a victim, just like when she was sixteen, before she’d run away from home. As she paced the large living-room area, she clenched and unclenched her fists.
All week, Kam had been in Cody to help Anne and Wes Sheridan adjust after Dan’s sudden death. Damn the bad luck of Sheridan dying the week her hit man was here. Today was Thursday, and Saturday was the last day André would be here disguised as a dude-ranch guest. This was the first opportunity he’d had to shoot Kam. Was Jenkins aware she was riding out now? Should she try and find the hit man and tell him? No. Halting in the living room, Allison tasted bitter rage. He’d outright ordered her never to approach him, talk to him or let anyone know that she had any connection with him.
Would Jenkins know about this trail ride? She ran her hand across her blond hair, stiff with hair spray and began pacing again. Iris was with Kam. Jenkins had said he’d only kill Kam Trayhern if she was alone. In Allison’s fondest dreams, Iris died and got the hell out of her way. The old woman was the matriarch and until she died, the ranch was hers and not theirs. Damn the old bitch, anyway.
Her eyes falling on the liquor cabinet, Allison felt her nerves jangling—a good dose of vodka would calm them. Never mind that it was only nine in the morning. She took a cut-glass lead-crystal tumbler from the cabinet, grabbed the bottle and opened it. After throwing in some ice cubes, she splashed in some liquor.
Allison feared what would happen after Kam was found dead on a trail. Rudd was deeply attached to his new daughter already. Would they suspect that a stray bullet from an out-of-season hunter had struck Kam? Or, would they suspect foul play and have the local police begin an investigation?
It was the second thought that shook Allison up and made her nerves shriek as never before. Once she gulped down the vodka in quick swallows, Allison set the glass back on the smooth, golden surface of the oak sideboard. Standing there, her hands splayed out across the top, she closed her eyes. Her greatest fear was that the police would discover that she’d hired Jenkins to kill Kam. If she was fingered, she’d go to prison. Maybe even get the death penalty. Real fear gnawed her insides. Allison couldn’t stand the idea of prison, and yet she had to take this risk. Everything she’d worked so hard to build, her life, her children’s futures could go up in smoke because of one stupid girl. Sure, she could go to jail, but she’d see Kam Trayhern in hell first.
ANDRÉ JENKINS sat high on the north hill, looking down on the trail through the scope of his sniper rifle. He was well hidden by surrounding bushes. Only the dull black barrel of his rifle stuck a few inches outside the bushes. He’d found this ideal site on his first day at the ranch. Now he had to finish his assignment.
When he’d seen Iris and Kam riding out earlier, he knew the time had come. He told one of the wranglers he had a headache and needed to beg off his morning ride. The man had accepted the excuse without question. It was easy enough to saddle his mount and ride off in a circular path to get to the Twin Hills trail. After tying his horse down on the eastern side of one of the hills, he’d climbed up and over the top. Halfway down the western side, he settled into his hiding spot. Jenkins knew that if his mount saw or heard the two riders, he would start whinnying. The hills were so large that his mount was a good three quarters of a mile away on the opposite side. It would be nearly impossible for it to hear the two horses coming down the trail between the hills. His only possible sound problem was solved by distance alone.
His rifle sat on a tripod. The sunlight dappled through the leaves of the area’s many trees. After lunch, a bunch of hands would be out here working on the trail. That was fine with him. By that time, he would have killed Kam Trayhern and gotten out of the area. Iris would ride for help. The ensuing chaos back at the ranch would be his cover.
The plan congealed in Jenkins’s mind. He hoped that Kam Trayhern would be riding on the east side of the trail. That way, he’d get a clear shot at her. If she was on the western side, it became a dicey proposition. He’d have to wait for a shot because Iris would be in the way. Above all, he couldn’t shoot the old lady.
Mouth thinning, Jenkins waited and looked down the trail. He’d ridden hard to get here ahead of them in order to set up. There was a much quicker, shorter trail to Twin Hills that the ranch hands always used. The other trail, created for a long, winding, leisurely ride to the same area, had been created for the guests. Iris and Kam had taken that trail. And why not? It was a beautiful cool summer morning and the old lady had her flower-essence gear in the saddlebags on her horse. Why not take a nice, quiet walk to enjoy nature?
The minutes ticked by. André knew roughly how long it would take the riders to get to this point in the trail. What was the problem? Where were they? Glancing back down at his watch, André decided to wait another ten minutes. If they didn’t show up, that meant that they had stopped earlier and wouldn’t be coming this far. A thin ribbon of frustration niggled at him, but he shrugged it off. As a hired professional, he never got in a hurry. Patience was his greatest ally.
Suddenly, André heard the snort of horses. It was them! Looking through the scope’s crosshairs, he saw them approaching and cursed softly. Iris was on his side of the trail—bad news. Kam Trayhern rode next to her. Damn. Jenkins had been hoping that they would ride single file, but they weren’t. This made the shot even tougher. Finger brushing the trigger, he watched th
em ambling up the trail. Their laughter and chatter drifted his way. The wind was nonexistent, which meant he didn’t have to add in windage to his shot.
As they rode closer, André kept his eye on the powerful scope. A surge of power burst through him. Neither woman knew he was here. The horses plodded along, looking for nibbles of grass to grab along the trail, oblivious to his presence. A smile pulled at his mouth. Finger on the trigger of the sniper rifle, he now tracked them in earnest. They were less than thirty feet away. There was a slight curve in the trail and then they would ride past him. As they rode in unison around the curve, André held his breath. Would they break into single file now? The path grew narrow. Instead, they took both horses on one side of the trail to avoid the deeps ruts. Damn!
His finger brushed the trigger and then became firm against it. Iris lifted her hand and gestured. Their laughter rang throughout the area. Each time Kam came into view, her horse would work to stay even with Iris’s horse. Frowning, André waited. He barely got one-third of Kam Trayhern’s skull in the scope. His shot was no good.
Real frustration bubbled up through him as they went around another curve in the trail—and out of sight. Sitting back, he eased the rifle butt to the ground between his spread legs. Not today. Getting up, he hurriedly broke down his rifle and tucked it into a rectangular canvas bag that became a large knapsack. The laughter and chatter of Kam Trayhern and Iris Mason grew distant. They were far enough away for André to escape and get back to the ranch.
Disappointed, he quietly moved with a hunter’s ease through the underbrush. Another time would have to present itself. It would be impossible to hurry ahead on this hill to try and get another shot. His crashing through the brush would alert their horses. No, he’d tried and failed.
Cresting the hill, the pines towering around him, André spotted his tied horse below. It was far more interested in nibbling at grass than anything else. The backpack was snug and he carefully made his way down the slippery slope, the pine needles slick underfoot. André didn’t have many more days as a dude-ranch guest. If that strategy didn’t work out, well, he’d stick around and make the hit happen. André smiled once again. The thrill of stalking was nearly as exciting as watching his victims through the scope of his rifle seconds before he killed them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ALLISON STARTED when she saw Jenkins ride back into the barn and dismount from his horse. Anxiously, she peered out the window, the curtain drawn back.
Was Kam dead?
A cold sweat popped out on her forehead, and a galvanizing fear raced through her. Not to mention she was woozy from drinking too much vodka. It had done little to tamp down her raw nerves.
How she wanted to run up to Jenkins and ask what had happened. But she couldn’t. Jenkins’s face had no expression as he handed the horse to a wrangler and walked away, the large, bulky knapsack on his back. Allison knew his rifle was in there. Again, an icy shiver coursed through her. Stepping back, she allowed the curtains to fall together once more.
Arms across her chest, Allison stood torn. She had to find out! But how? Jenkins had warned her never to approach him. If Kam was dead, where was Iris? They had ridden off together. Had Jenkins killed both of them?
With a strangled cry, Allison clutched at her stiffly coiffed hair. She paced restlessly around the suite, her breathing choppy and adrenaline shooting through her. She wanted to scream. It was one thing to kill Kam. It was quite another to kill Rudd’s mother. Oh God, what had she done?
Sitting down, Allison folded into a nearly fetal position on the couch, crying. Right now, she wanted to be anywhere but here. The weight of the world came down on her and Allison sobbed. It was all Kam’s fault for coming here.
She couldn’t fall apart like this. No one could know anything was wrong. Finally, she wiped her eyes, smearing her mascara. Allison bounded to the bathroom to repair her makeup. As she stared at her pale countenance in the mirror, her hair shoved off to one side, Allison grimaced. She had to stop panicking. Slow down and think. If she went out to the greenhouse, she might find Iris. If she found Iris, she would know whether or not Kam was dead. Or if Kam was dead and Iris was left alive, surely the old woman would be calling in on her cell phone. Cell phones didn’t always work in the Twin Hills area, and calls were spotty at best. Rudd had complained mightily about that problem. Any time a dude trail ride went out, the head wrangler always had a cell phone. If there was an accident, then he could make a call to the ranch house and they could spring into action.
Quickly repairing her makeup, Allison tried to breathe deeply and get a solid hold on her writhing emotional state. The office was down the hall, and Judy Harper was manning the desk. All she had to do was casually walk by. That’s it. That’s what she would do. If Kam was dead, Iris might have gotten a call through to the office. She would know, then.
Allison rearranged her hair on top of her head once more, checked her clothes, tucked in her blouse at the waist, tinkered with the thin leather belt and then turned on her heel. One way or another, she’d find out what she needed to know.
“HOW ARE things going?” Allison asked Judy in what she hoped was a casual tone. There were several walkie-talkies on the desk, as well as the cell phone and a landline that Judy manned.
Looking up, Judy smiled. “Hi, Allison. Everything’s quiet, thank goodness.”
“I see.” Allison stood there for a moment. Judy was a brunette and reminded her of the women painted by the Old Masters of Europe. She wasn’t thin as a rail as Allison was. But then, the woman was an avid hiker and in surprisingly good shape. As if feeling her scrutiny, Judy cocked her head.
“Are you all right, Allison? You look a little pale.”
Stung by the observation, Allison scowled. “I’m fine!” The words snapped between her red lips. She didn’t mean to sound so tense and Judy couldn’t see through her plan. Allison quickly walked out of the office and pushed the screen door open. Her stomach sank as she saw Kam riding beside Iris down the Thorn Hills trail.
Allison suddenly felt faint. She gripped the screen door for support. Heart pounding, she wondered if she would die of a heart attack. Allison turned on her heel and went back into the office. Without a word, she swiftly walked past Judy, her heels clicking loudly against the shining cedar floor. Kam was not dead! Somehow, Jenkins had screwed up a perfect opportunity!
Reaching her suite, Allison jerked the door open and slammed it behind her. She paced the suite, her emotions part relief and part fear and anger. Why did she feel relieved Kam wasn’t dead? Her ultimate fear was getting caught, and if there wasn’t a dead body, no problem. She rubbed her damp hands against her slacks. It would start all over. Today was Thursday. Saturday afternoon, Jenkins would have to leave to keep his cover in place. He had assured her that if he couldn’t kill Kam in that week, he would skulk around and wait without anyone knowing of his presence.
Groaning, Allison halted. She could barely stand the tension of waiting or the terror of Kam dying. Should she tell Jenkins the hit contract was off? No, she couldn’t! Fingers digging into the back of the couch, Allison stood paralyzed. No way could she back out of this. And yet, the agony of her decision tore her apart. Allison had suffered a lot of cruelty in Hollywood, but none of it reached this volume of tension and fright within her. None of it.
Glaring around the quiet suite, the lowing of cattle barely heard outside the window, a neigh of a horse in a nearby corral, Allison hated her life. Why hadn’t things gone right for her out in Hollywood? She could act, dammit. She’d proven that over and over again in bit parts in movies and television. Oh, she’d never made the big time. She was no A-list actress. Not even a B. Allison knew she was one of thousands who dreamed of breaking in, had got some gigs, but had never caught on with the Hollywood producers and directors.
A sob caught in her throat. Looking around through a haze of hot tears scalding her eyes, Allison clung to the only thing she’d ever been successful at—raising her two children
. She worshipped them. A fierce love welled in her chest and her heart expanded with such intensity that she sobbed. No. She had to see this through. No matter what it did to her on a personal level. Kam Trayhern was a threat on so many levels.
“HOW DOES IT FEEL to be back here at the Elkhorn Ranch?” Kam asked Wes as they ate in the dining hall. Around them, the noise, the laughter and storytelling going on between dude-ranch guests filled the large, airy cedar room. The wooden picnic tables personified the rough-and-tumble cowboy era.
Kam sipped her tomato soup and watched Wes across the table.
“Good. Really good,” he confided, finishing off his soup and setting the bowl aside. He reached for the plate of beef, black-eyed peas and mashed potatoes with thick brown gravy. “It’s like night and day. I’m glad to be back.”
“What a stroke of luck that Braidy took the job as manager of your mother’s ranch,” Kam said, savoring this time with Wes. It felt like months since she’d last seen him.
Wes cut into the thick slices of beef. “Mother is very happy with him. He’ll provide the leadership the wranglers need. She can go back to teaching and everything will be okay.”
“That’s right,” Kam said. “Soon enough, kids will be starting back to school at the end of August.”
Nodding, Wes chewed the succulent organic beef. As good as it was, just looking at Kam filled his heart. Everything about her was endearing. From her green T-shirt and formfitting jeans to her cowboy boots. Her black hair was always tousled and she wore that red bandanna that she’d been given upon first arriving at the ranch. “Let’s talk about us,” he said.
Kam smiled and picked up her knife and fork. “Okay. A subject close to my heart.” When his gray eyes narrowed upon her, Kam felt heat fly up her neck and into her cheeks.
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