Legacy Lost

by Jillian David

  Zach wiped his face and ran his dish to the sink without being asked.

  “Wash up, then we’ll go,” Garrison said.

  “Bye, Auntie Shelby, Uncle Kerr!” Her nephew pounded up the stairs, the bathroom door closing with a bang.

  Kerr cleared his throat. “So, we should talk. Dad’s not doing well, huh?”

  “No. Not getting better, anyway,” Garrison muttered.

  She blew a curl off her forehead. “Maybe it’s time to get someone who can help him.”

  “What about some therapy? Or a short stay in rehab?” Kerr knew all about those two options. Knew them too well.

  With a snort, she pushed her food around on the plate. “Rehab stint? With Dad? Good luck convincing him to go. Talk about an immovable object. I took him in for a checkup last week and that was pretty much against his will. No idea what the doctor said, since Dad wouldn’t let me go back to the room with him. And Dad wouldn’t talk about the visit afterward.”

  “You think something serious is going on?” Kerr asked.

  “Of course, but he’s not about to tell us. Stubborn.” She rested her forehead on the heel of her hand. “I wish Mom were here. She’d knock some sense into him.”

  Garrison ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right about that. Really, ever since Mom died, he’s kind of . . . faded.”

  No one spoke for a minute. Finally, Shelby blew out a frustrated puff of air. “Well. We can’t fix anything the way things are right now. What about getting a nurse or aide? Where are we with that plan?”

  “Put the ad in earlier this week,” Garrison said. “Pretty low chance of anyone taking the job, between the remote location and the low pay.”

  “You never know.” Bless his heart, but Kerr tried to stay positive, even in this tough situation.

  She studied him. “You doing okay? Still having those dreams?”

  Kerr nodded. “Exploding volcano, woman’s arm reaching for me. Same old.”

  “Yeah.” Garrison frowned. “But my dreams have now added a darkness to the picture.”

  “Mine too.” Shelby sat up straighter. “That was a recent development, like the past week or so.”

  “Weird.” Kerr nodded. “I thought it had to do with my . . . memories. I didn’t realize you two were seeing it as well.”

  “What’s it all mean?” Shelby asked. “We’ve never had the same dreams before.”

  Garrison rubbed his forehead. “No idea. I’m happy if I can get some sleep.”

  She snorted.

  “At least bombs aren’t going off when I have those volcano and dark shape dreams,” her twin muttered.

  Shelby rubbed a circle on the wood tabletop. “Good point. Do the dreams upset you?”

  Kerr tapped his forehead. “You can’t tell?”

  “I could if I wanted to, but my filters are better this morning after I got a good night’s sleep. Also, you’re not projecting any strong emotions, so there’s not a lot to block—” She winced a split second before a truck door slammed.

  When Kerr shot her a knowing smirk, she longed to wipe that grin off his face. “Filters don’t keep out strong emotions, huh?”

  She scowled and rubbed her middle finger on her cheek, making sure her brother saw it. “Stay out of it.”

  “Now it’s an ‘it’? Oooh, fabuloso, sis. I can’t wait to hear more.”

  Eric stomped through the kitchen door and paused.

  “I’m out of here.” Garrison smiled. He clapped Eric on the upper arm. “Good luck, man.”

  Zach ran down the stairs and followed Garrison out the front door.

  Ignoring Eric, she glared at Kerr’s opening mouth. “Shove it. Or I’ll do it for you.”

  His expression transformed from mischievous to angelic, and she didn’t buy the innocent act for one minute. “I didn’t do anything.”

  Eric hung up his hat, running his hand through his sandy hair. Like Shelby wanted to do. Damn it.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No,” she said, right as Kerr said, “Yes.”

  “Um.” Eric’s eyes darted from Shelby to Kerr.

  “Still going to work on the fences?” Kerr asked her. Goading.

  “Yes.” She tried to make the word as final and unfriendly as possible. She definitely didn’t want company, since she had other plans besides mere fence work.

  “Alone?” Eric’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Of course.”

  “But Garrison said no one goes out alone,” he reminded her. His chin rose. Damn supercilious know-it-all. Bet he was the class monitor back in elementary school.

  “It’s repairing fences. Simple. Any person can do it.” She glared at them. “Besides, don’t you two have a hunting trip to set up?”

  “We’re not leaving for two more days. I can take care of most of the equipment,” Kerr offered with a negligent lift to his shoulder, like he didn’t know what he was doing, giving Eric an opening. “We’ll work on route plans and logistics tonight. Weather forecast will be updated by then.”

  Eric grinned, dark blue eyes burning into Shelby. “How about breakfast before we get to work, then?” His smiling face made her want to punch it.

  She crossed her arms. “Too bad. Should’ve been here on time. Kitchen’s closed. And I’m leaving in a few minutes.”

  He crossed the room in four long strides and swiped the remaining pieces of bacon from the plate next to the skillet, finishing them in record time. “Delicious. Thank you for the lovely breakfast.” He washed his hands and dried them on a paper towel. “Now, I believe you were heading for the back forty to fix fences?”

  Chapter 12

  The image of Shelby straddling his lap in the truck haunted Eric’s mind. And God help him, he had tried everything to erase the impression of her lips on his, her willowy but strong body curving to fit him, the heat flaring between them. His futile attempts to forget that incident were why he had been late this morning. His brain clanged around in his skull, thanks to his counselor and confidante, Jack Daniel’s.

  Who had screwed him over again. Not only did Jack not work, he made Eric feel like manure this morning.

  Shoving pieces of bacon into his gullet to make a point didn’t help. In fact, that boneheaded move might prompt a repeat performance later today, given his lingering hangover. Eric shoved a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed, hoping the mint would calm his rolling gut.

  Crisp, dry air stung his windpipe this morning. The sun peeked out between thin, icy clouds. No snow since last week, but it was forecast for later this week. The sooner they finished the fence work, the sooner he could work on the replacement barn that needed to be completed before the first big snowfall. That is, after this last minute hunting trip was over.

  The hunting guide service was his and Kerr’s dream. After his friend had been discharged from the military a broken man, Eric had vowed to stick with Kerr. Although he hadn’t been able to keep Kerr from being hurt, Eric sure as hell could help with his recovery and support his aspiration.

  The idea of anything screwing up that bond scared the hell out of him.

  “Ready, slowpoke?” That voice yanked him out of his thoughts. Geezus, that woman annoyed the living hell out of him.

  He cinched the girth strap, making his horse huff and stomp. Eric had no sympathy for the animal. Some beasts had to carry burdens they didn’t like. Join the club.

  Turning on his heel, every thought left his brain when he focused on the woman leading her horse by the reins.

  Shelby was a force of nature, all aimed at his nuts. From the long line of tight, faded denim to the dull leather jacket that made him want to peel it off and get to know what lay beneath, to the Stetson crammed down so low only a few orange curls stuck out, he wanted all of it.

  Even her flippant exterior, the one designed to make everyone think I’m perfectly fine. He wanted to crack through the shell and expose the real Shelby inside. What he’d give for an hour alone with her, off the ranch, in comp
lete privacy. A tight heat settled down low, below the belt. If he had an entire night, that would be even better. Pure heaven.

  Or hell.

  She coughed and threw him a satchel full of tools and wire. Then she patted her horse on the neck. “Come on, Bob, let’s leave this granny in the dust.”

  Bob. The stupid horse. The damned beast flicked its short, singed tail and winked an eye at Eric. That horse had almost been the death of Shelby two weeks ago when the barn had gone up in flames and she dashed in to save the mangy animal.

  Bob batted his horsey eyelashes at Shelby and whickered, clearly infatuated with her. And when she mounted up, the damn beast whuffed in ecstasy.

  How did that animal get to have her legs draped on either side of its back?

  He hated that horse.

  Lashing the supplies, Eric swallowed his gum and swung up into the saddle.

  • • •

  Shelby blew on her gloved hands as she and Eric repaired another section of fence. The weather had turned colder. A few anemic flakes straggled down from the cloudy sky. The blurred sight had cleared, but she continued to see shadows dancing on the edge of her vision. Had to be residual side effect of the rescue in the Tetons.

  But the weird whiffs of hot sulfur, like driving through the geyser basin at Yellowstone? And the searing anger slashing over her filters? That was different.

  The creepy crawly feelings made her check over her shoulders. What the heck was going on out here? Was she going crazy?

  Eric twisted the metal in the fence splicer then stood up. Crouched on the ground, she looked up. He took up her field of vision. For a second, she caught a flash of intensity in his dark blue eyes that stopped her breathing.

  Ridiculous.

  What was even more ridiculous? The way her nerves twitched around him, like her skin craved his touch. Made sense, after the way he’d hauled her onto his lap and kissed her. What a kiss, too. Something she’d been trying hard to forget.

  Without success.

  “Why are these sections disrupted, anyway?” he asked, peering behind them and into the wooded Bridger-Teton National Forest land that abutted the property. Fifty feet away, the Brand property met up with their fence line and the national forest.

  That twitchy feeling might have more to do with proximity to their neighbors. What she’d give for Eric to go away. She wanted to get closer to the Brand property and figure out whatever operation those nuts had going on over there. Too bad Mr. Hall Monitor was with her today. He’d probably remind her about how it was illegal to trespass or something equally square. Fine. She’d come back later.

  “I presume the Brands are up to their old tricks.”

  “But why?” he asked.

  “No idea.” She dusted her hands on her jeans.

  As she stood up, he followed her movements with his eyes. The direct gaze was hungry. For a split second, her world tilted a few degrees off plumb. Thank goodness her filters were up. And thank goodness he kept his thoughts mostly hidden. Perfect.

  “Why are you out here, Shel?” The end of his sentence got whipped away in the gust of cold wind. His tall frame blocked out the wan sunlight.

  “What? To fix the fence, of course.”

  He flung an arm out. “The cattle are all down near the house. Garrison isn’t letting them into the back forty fields until springtime. And that wasn’t the question. Why are you out here?” The grim line of his mouth made her want to soften that harshness with kisses.

  No. That was a horrible idea.

  “To see what’s going on. With the fence.”

  He crossed his arms over the long coat covering his broad chest. “Try again.” Tilting his head, he continued, “Anything to do with your ability to get into someone’s head? Say, a neighbor’s head?”

  “What?” Glancing back over her shoulder, she whispered, “With the Brands?”

  “Tempting, isn’t it?”

  “Like I want to try that trick again.”

  “Wouldn’t put it past you.”

  Damn him. What was he, perceptive all of a sudden? “Look, not all the stuff I can do is bad.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Never said it was.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Kind of a cool power, if you ask me.”

  “I didn’t.”

  That smile curved his mouth but went no farther. What warmth remained in his eyes bled out into the dry, frigid air. “You know, I always wondered how you found Leah.”

  The girlfriend who died because of Shelby? Her heart sank. She had hoped to avoid this discussion. “Now you know.”

  “Yeah. When she didn’t return to camp, you and Kerr had a heated discussion. Then you shook your head, spun around, and started walking away in a straight line. And you found her. I never understood until the other week, watching you find Zach and Sara.”

  “But I failed way back then with Leah.” Even now, the image of his girlfriend’s broken body from where she’d fallen down the steep rocks preyed upon Shelby’s memory.

  “I don’t see it that way.” Yes, he did see it that way. The pricks of anger pinged off her filter. Some of his stinging emotion got through.

  “Your mind says otherwise.” Ducking her head, she continued. “Leah wasn’t alive when I found her.”

  “Not upset about that.”

  “Don’t believe you, but I’ll bite. What are you upset about, if it isn’t your dead girlfriend?”

  It was Eric’s turn to flinch. “Yeah, fine. Her death was awful. No question.”

  The burning in her eyes? Had to be due to the icy air. “Yeah,” she mumbled.

  “But I’m mad that you somehow think you’re responsible for her death.”

  How did he stay so calm, talking about her failure? “No way.”

  “Let’s be honest here. When I found out about your little radar power, it took me about thirty seconds to evaluate Leah’s death and figure out how you found her.”

  “Damn.”

  “Whether you held off using your power or whether you used it and you couldn’t help that she had already died? It didn’t matter.”

  “I don’t understand.” Her heart hammered double time in her chest.

  “Because you don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t owe the world anything. This is your power. And it hurts you when it’s used. Who gets to dictate how that gift gets used? And for whom? No one.”

  Peering up at him and shoring up her filters to deflect the pings of irritation, she asked, “What else? Because I think there’s more.”

  For a minute, the only sound came from the wind rushing by them. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m also mad that you’re so closed off.”

  “First of all, isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black? Second of all, is it any surprise?” She waved her hand around her head. “How do you expect me to manage this insanity otherwise? All the short-circuiting in my head doesn’t indicate that I’m nuts. It means I’m cursed.”

  He held out his hand, palm forward. “No. What I meant was, what are you scared of? If you’re still hung up on what happened in high school, don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Not using my power sooner might have gotten your girlfriend killed, Eric. That’s a big deal.” And he got way too close on the other points she refused to answer.

  “You didn’t force her to do anything. She was drunk and made the decision to wander off. It’s no one’s fault.”

  “I should have been paying more attention. Should have gotten to her sooner.”

  “Shel, you’re not responsible for everyone else. People make their own choices.”

  “For most people, sure. But my little gift means that yes, I have a greater responsibility for others.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Is it? Do you know how it feels to sit back and watch the Search and Rescue team go out on a mission, knowing that if I were with them, their chances of success would be close to 100 percent?”

  “You have a life to live, too, though.” His gaze was sh
adowed beneath his hat. “And you’re not living it, are you?”

  Her laugh came out hollow, pathetic. She rubbed her jacket-clad arm. “Look, you don’t understand. Because of my weird ability, I can’t do ‘normal relationship’ stuff. And any time I try, the emotional backlash of knowing what my partner really, truly feels about me is too much. I can’t take it.”

  He crossed his arms. “Is that what you’re scared of? That a partner will reject you . . . mentally . . . and you’ll read it?”

  “Partly.” More like terrified that one certain partner will reject me.

  “What if your partner thought only good things about you?” His voice came out as a low whisper that riled her nerve endings.

  A shudder ran through her spine. Then she squashed any hope and shook her head. “Never going to happen. Human nature and all. The inner monologue and never-ending emotions that people generate go back and forth from positive to negative all the time. Normal people just don’t hear all of it.”

  He stepped closer. Enough to where she inhaled the mouthwatering scent of hardworking male and cloves, making her head spin.

  “What are you really afraid of, Shel? Other people? Or yourself? Do you really want a life where you have no intimate contact with anyone? Are you scared of letting anyone in? Or just me?”

  For a second there, she was tempted to answer. Then she squashed the desire. If she took the risk standing in front of her and then things went to hell? She’d never be able to face him again. That last ember of hope that glowed deep down inside of Shelby, the last chance at having a normal relationship, would be snuffed out forever.

  She took a step to the side. “Let’s keep working here. There are more areas of the fence that need to be mended.”

  He blocked her way, imposing his large frame into her personal space. Damn him, she hated the invasion but craved it at the same time. And the spicy emotion pinging on her filters indicated his desire, not anger.

  That made two of them.

  “Listen to me, Shel. I never blamed you for Leah’s death. No one did.”

  No way could she meet his eyes. “Ok. Fine.”