Shadows from the Past

by McKenna, Lindsay

  He’d never reach Thierry in time. But then the man tumbled after hitting a slippery spot. The chestnut gelding, about a hundred feet away from him, shied, but didn’t go anywhere. Wes knew that Bolt wouldn’t move an inch. Breath tearing out of his mouth, Wes surged down the hill.

  Thierry reached his horse, and the animal backed away, eyes rolling. It wasn’t prepared for a human to come charging. Grabbing at the reins, Thierry jerked the startled gelding to a halt. Looking over his shoulder, Thierry saw the cowboy hot on his heels. In another thirty seconds, he’d reach him. Not if he could help it. Leaping into the saddle, Thierry sank his heels into the quarter horse and sent it off to a flying gallop.

  Damn! Wes reached the bottom, panting loudly. Bolt’s ears were working back and forth, his eyes large. But he didn’t move. Wes leaped upward, one hand hooking around the saddle horn. He swung himself on board the horse. Bolt took the weight, two steps sideways and then anchored.

  Leaning over, Wes grabbed the reins. Without even touching them to Bolt’s neck, Wes pressed his right leg against the horse’s barrel. Like a cat, Bolt lifted his front legs, pivoted ninety degrees and then took off at a thunderous gallop. Wes managed to slide his boots into the stirrups. The horse’s mane stung his face as he leaned low and asked everything of his half Thoroughbred. He had to catch the fleeing Thierry! The horse’s hooves pounded down the damp wrangler trail that led around the Twin Hills toward the ranch. As Bolt broke around the first hill, Wes shouted to him. Ears laid back against his head, Bolt knew he was after the fleeing chestnut. He stretched his long, gray legs and rapidly ate up the distance between them.

  Wind whipped around Wes as they closed in on Thierry. He saw that the man was a good rider, but as good as he was, he whipped the horse unmercifully to try to escape. In the end, he could not. Bolt was much taller and had longer legs. Plus, a quarter horse was good for a sprint of a quarter mile while Bolt, part Thoroughbred, could easily breeze a mile at top speed.

  As Wes drew up on the killer, his mind whirled with questions. Why would someone want to kill Kam and Iris? Who had put this man up to such a shocking deed? Did Jenkins have another weapon on him? Wes was without defense except for his hunting knife. He urged Bolt the last fifty feet to close the gap on the tiring chestnut. The man kept looking around, no fear etched in his face—just a black look that made Wes think this was a paid killer.

  As Wes surged toward the chestnut, the man suddenly threw the horse to the right—in front of Bolt.

  Wes felt his horse drop its haunches and skid wildly to avoid the coming collision. He gave his horse its head because to saw on the reins at this moment would only unbalance Bolt more. The horse knew what it would take not to tumble headlong into the quarter horse. Wes’s heart stopped. Everything slowed for him, as though he was watching an old home movie, frame by frame.

  Thierry had made a fatal error. When he’d wrenched his horse’s reins to pull him into Bolt’s path, he hadn’t counted on his horse stumbling into a rut in the road. As Bolt grunted and sat down, literally, on his rear, the chestnut stumbled. Wes sat back on Bolt, giving him his head. Mud splattered all over the place as the huge gray horse skidded to avoid the collision.

  Wes felt his horse begin to twist to the left to avoid the falling chestnut. The quarter horse went down five feet in front of them. Thierry flew headlong out of the saddle. Bolt leaned to the left. Wes felt his horse losing his balance. In a swift motion, he got his boots out of the stirrups. He launched out the saddle to the right, hoping to avoid the fall of his horse.

  Hitting the ground hard, Wes rolled over and over again. Mud splattered him. He heard Bolt slam into the earth not far away. He stopped rolling and sprang to his feet. Bolt was getting to his feet, shaking his head but unhurt.

  In front of Wes, the quarter horse too was getting to its feet, unhurt. The animal was covered with mud. Wes ran around the chestnut and found the killer lying facedown, unmoving. Wes pulled him over on his back. The man was unconscious, chalk-faced but breathing. A purplish lump had already formed on his forehead.

  Taking no chances, Wes walked over to Bolt and retrieved some rope from one of the saddlebags. He pushed Thierry onto his belly and brought his hands behind him. No stranger to tying calves for branding, Wes made sure the rope was snug without cutting off the man’s circulation.

  As he stood up, he heard the thunder of hooves behind him, and looked around to see Kam and Iris riding hell-bent for leather toward him. Wes walked out to meet them, seeing the concern in Kam’s eyes. Iris seemed beyond shocked.

  As they pulled their horses to a stop, Iris said, “Wes, what’s going on?”

  “The man was trying to kill the two of you,” he told them grimly. Placing his hand on the neck of Kam’s mount, he told them the story.

  With a gasp, Iris stared down at Thierry, who was slowly returning to consciousness. “Call the sheriff, Wes. Who would do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know.” Wes gave Kam a long, hard look. If his hunch hadn’t led him to followed Thierry, she might be dead. The thought pulverized him. Reaching out, he took Kam’s hand resting on the horn and squeezed it. The words, I love you, nearly tore out of his mouth, but he swallowed them back for now. The look in Kam’s eyes was unmistakable: she was afraid for him.

  “I’m okay,” he reassured her. Reaching for the cell phone on his belt, he made the call to Deputy Sheriff Cade Garner. By the time he was done, Thierry was sitting up and scowling at them.

  Iris rubbed her nose and glared at Thierry. Then she ordered Wes, “Don’t call Rudd. We’ll tell him once we get there.”

  Though confused, Wes did as she requested. Normally, he’d call something like this into his boss. Rudd needed to know. Why would Iris ask him not to alert him? Maybe because she was worried that Rudd would be stressed out to know Iris and his newfound daughter had nearly been killed. Understandable. Nodding, he said, “No problem, Iris.”

  “Let me go,” Thierry growled at Wes as he came over to him.

  “Not a chance. Get up,” Wes ordered tightly, sliding his gloved hand beneath the man’s arm and hauling him to his feet.

  Thierry limped to the chestnut. Wes helped him to get on making sure he kept hold of the reins. Mounting Bolt, Wes set off, leading the chestnut with the killer on board behind him. Kam and Iris rode beside Wes.

  KAM FELT FEAR cascade through her as she grappled with what might have happened only minutes earlier if not for Wes. Who would want to kill them? And what if Wes hadn’t followed his hunch about Thierry and the odd backpack he’d worn? Suddenly, for Kam, all the silly notions of not allowing Wes fully into her life disappeared. Hungry to speak with him privately, Kam knew that couldn’t happen for a while. Catching Wes’s glance, she smiled slightly.

  “Dinner tonight?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Wes told her, his voice low with feeling.

  ALLISON BLANCHED when she saw Wes, Iris and Kam ride in with Jenkins in tow. Rudd was with her in the office when they arrived. Panic struck her. Rooted to the spot, she watched her husband scowl darkly and stride out the door to meet the returning group. What had gone wrong?

  Allison’s mind turned a million miles in those seconds. She had to have a plan! If she ran, they would know she was behind it all. Would Jenkins squeal on her? Or, would he, as he had promised, be mute? Did assassins have an honor code that kept them from revealing who had bought their services? An icy fear clutched at her throat as she stood numbly, staring out the door.

  She had to do something so she walked jerkily out of the office. As she moved to the door, she saw the sheriff’s cruiser arrive. Cade Garner was a tough hombre. He had been widowed two years ago, his wife and five-year-old son lost to a drunk driver. She saw the grimness in his thirty-year-old features. Cade was strict and helped run a tight ship in the county. He was far too intelligent not to be able to squeeze the truth out of Jenkins.

  Dizzy with fear, Allison turned and went unsteadily down the hall to her suite. Shutting
the door, she sank against it, her hands pressed to the roughened wood. She would deny it. No matter what Jenkins said, she’d deny it. What if someone checked out her credit cards? Cade Garner would overlook nothing. He was wily as a coyote.

  Shakily, Allison pressed her hands to her face. Would Rudd believe her? Or Jenkins? Somehow, she had to keep secret the fact she’d hired an assassin. Whatever happened in the next twenty-four hours would seal her fate. Allison was determined to stay above it.

  KAM’S WORLD was upended three hours later. She was working with Wes over at the barn. The shadows were long through the central part, the breeze cool compared to the heat outside the structure. Since the killer had been taken away, Kam had felt shaky in the aftermath of all the excitement. Wes and she were over in the tack room cleaning the leather bridles as well as the saddles. There was something soothing in sitting quietly with Wes in the airy tack room, redolent of leather. Right now, all she wanted was some kind of fixed routine to calm her jittery nerves.

  Wes was working on a saddle when Rudd entered through the open door. The man’s face was grim, his eyes reddened, as if he’d been crying. “Rudd?” Wes said, setting the saddle soap and cloth aside.

  Taking a deep breath, Rudd regarded Kam, who sat in a wooden chair working on a leather bridle. “The sheriff in Jackson Hole just got done with his questioning of De Bourdeille at the jail facility.” The next words were so hard to speak. “The Frenchman accuses Allison of paying him a large sum of money to kill Iris and you, Kam.”

  Kam’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Rudd,” Wes said, his voice hoarse.

  Wearily, Rudd took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Jenkins signed a statement.”

  “Oh, my God,” Kam whispered, her hand going to her lips as she looked at her father. “How awful.” Kam couldn’t conceive that Allison could put out a hit on them, but it felt like the truth. She saw the devastation in Rudd’s eyes.

  “The sheriff is sending a cruiser out here to pick up Allison right now. They need her statement.”

  Wes blinked and shook his head. “I know Allison feels threatened by Kam being here but…” His voice trailed off in disbelief.

  “I don’t know what to believe,” Rudd told them heavily. “Allison is swearing the opposite, that De Bourdeille is lying to save his own skin.”

  “Son?”

  Iris stepped through the door of the tack room. She put her hand on Rudd’s arm and looked over at Kam and Wes. “I heard it all. And I need you to know something. The truth has to come out here and now.” Her hand tightened around Rudd’s upper arm. “I’ve never trusted Allison. When she had Regan eight months after she married you, I got suspicious. I hired an investigator to find out if Regan had been conceived before she married you.” Iris saw Rudd’s eyes flare open. It would hurt him so much to tell him the rest of the truth. “My investigator took DNA samples from Regan’s and Allison’s hair that I provided him with. I also gave him some of your hair from your brush, Rudd. The DNA shows clearly that Regan is not your daughter. I believe from the investigation that Allison had a liaison with a producer named Patrick Dobson. He is Regan’s father.”

  Rudd looked like a broken man, his eyes wide with shock, his face pale.

  Iris gently moved her hand to Rudd’s shoulder. “It gets worse, Rudd. After that happened, I had my investigator follow Allison every time she left for Los Angeles for six months of the year. She had another long-term affair with a director named Zacharius Blanchard. And she conceived. She was living with him that six months after she left here. She got pregnant a month before she came back to the ranch. Zach is his child, not yours. If you recall, she was insistent that Zach be called Zach. You’d wanted another name.”

  Stunned, Rudd closed his eyes. He inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. “I wanted to name him Stephen Trevor Mason in honor of Trevor….”

  “Yes,” Iris whispered. “But I checked it out and DNA and verifies it—neither child is yours, Rudd. It makes a lot of sense to me why Allison could have done something like this.”

  The room was brittle with silence. Kam stared at her father; the information seemed to have broken him apart. Regan and Zach were not her half sister and half brother after all. Allison had lied and manipulated to have her children inherit property and money they had no legal, moral or ethical right to. “This is all too much,” she whispered, touching her brow.

  Wes shook his head. “I’m sorry, Rudd. So damned sorry this has happened.” He looked at Iris, who seemed to have aged ten years in front of his eyes. Tears streamed down her face as she devoted her full attention to her long, lanky son. Maybe coming from the family of an alcoholic wasn’t as bad as he’d thought after all. His heart hurt for Rudd and Iris.

  “D-do you think Allison could really do this?” Rudd asked his mother, his voice cracking.

  With a nod, Iris whispered, “Son, I think she could do it. Above all, Allison was super-protective of her children. You know how she mentions almost daily that they should be in my will. I haven’t put them in there, Rudd. I lied to her to get her off my back about it. I won’t have this ranch go to them. It will be your ranch, Rudd. Only yours.”

  Rudd sat down abruptly on a wooden chair near the door. He put his elbows on his knees and then buried his face in his hands. Iris came over and gently smoothed out the fabric across his broad shoulders. A sob ripped from somewhere deep down inside Rudd. Iris murmured his name and leaned over, cradling him the best she could given her diminutive size.

  Kam felt hot tears scald her eyes. Her father was crying over the pain and shock of what his wife had done. She didn’t try to stop her own tears. Everything blurred. In the next moment, Wes pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. His arm went around her shoulders. Without hesitation, Kam turned and laid her head against him and cried.

  Wes closed his eyes and held Kam tightly in his arms. He didn’t know who was crying more—Kam or Rudd. The tack room was flooded with the awful sounds of pain being released. And then, his own eyes teared up and Wes rested his head upon Kam’s and let them flow. He hadn’t cried since his father’s funeral, but as he held Kam, Wes realized that she could have been killed today. He loved her so much it hurt and he hadn’t told her as much. When this was over, he promised her silently that he would share his feelings.

  Finally, silence returned to the tack room. Rudd thanked his mother in a gravelly voice and sat up, wiping his eyes. He settled the hat back on his head. Looking over at Kam, he said to Iris, “Then she’s my only child.”

  “That’s right,” Iris said gently, patting his shoulder. “And DNA has proved it.”

  “Now I understand why Allison was so het up about us wanting to get DNA samples from Zach and Regan.” He looked up at his mother. “This explains a lot—now.”

  “I knew the truth all along. Allison didn’t know I knew and had no idea about the P.I. I’d never confronted her with the truth until recently. I was willing to let it be, but when Kam entered your life, things changed.” Iris gave Kam a warm, loving look. “Kam, I’m so sorry you had to step into this mess. It’s not of your doing and I don’t want you to feel guilty about it.”

  Rudd nodded. “I’ve been a fool, Iris.”

  “We’re all fools, son. You trusted Allison. You let her go to Los Angeles because you loved her.”

  Rudd rubbed his face, going over the tragic scenario. “She lied to me, Iris. About the children. My God, how could she do such a thing?”

  Iris shook her head. “I don’t know, son, but I’ve already called our attorney. You’re going to need him. Ralph Talbot will be out here shortly. In the meantime, Allison has gotten an attorney from Cheyenne by the name of Horton Sanders, and he has told her to say nothing more until he arrives.”

  “Do the children know?” Kam asked, hurting for them.

  “Not yet,” Iris said. “Rudd and I will talk to them since they’ll never get the truth out of Allison. We have serious decisions to make, the
first being where Allison will live. She can’t live here after she gets bail. You can set her up in an apartment in Jackson Hole if you want. There’s a long trial coming and it’s going to be hard enough on all of us.”

  Rudd nodded. He more than understood his mother’s point. “But I want the children to have a home. I love them and I always will.”

  Iris sighed then smiled raggedly at her son. “Of course. They’re going to need a lot of support with what’s happened.”

  “I won’t abandon them,” Rudd told her. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re mine. I’ll make sure they have the money, the education and support they need now and in the future.”

  “I agree,” Iris said. She wiped her eyes. “What a day!”

  Kam nodded. With Wes’s arm around her shoulders she felt more steady. “Just tell me what I can do to help.”

  “All I need from you, Kam, is assurance that you’ll stay here with us. I just found you. I don’t want to lose you again,” Rudd said warmly.

  “I’m going nowhere, Dad.” How easy it was to say those words, Kam realized. She saw Rudd’s face change and some of the pain disappeared from his eyes. A slight smile hitched the corners of his mouth. “You’re my dad,” she repeated. “I love you. I don’t want to go anywhere. I’ll do what I can to help all of you through this….”

  Iris saw her son rally. Kam’s words were a healing balm on his torn-up heart. Gratefully, she looked over at Kam. The love for her father was evident, and it lifted Iris as nothing else ever could. “We’ll get through this—together,” she promised them.

  Wes eyed Kam uncertainly, then addressed mother and son. “I haven’t talked to Kam about this yet, and she can still say no. There’s a small house that’s empty right now about a mile from here. I’d like Kam and I to live there.” He turned and gazed deeply into Kam’s glistening eyes. “I love her. And I want to be with her.”

  “Yes, I’d like that,” Kam managed, feeling the intensity of Wes’s love. Looking over at her father, she said, “Is that okay with you, Dad?”