The Last MacKlenna

by Katherine Lowry Logan

  “In the dining room,” Evelyn said, coming down the stairs. “Get him out of here. He can’t do what he usually does, and he doesn’t need to be doing whatever that is anyway.”

  Louise slipped her arm around her lover. “Meredith is taking him away now, aren’t you?” she asked, giving Meredith a pleading look.

  “How could I say no?” She entered the dining room to find Elliott at the head of the table typing on his laptop. She leaned over and kissed him. “Do you want to go to bed or to a movie?”

  He pushed away from the table. “I don’t want to see a fooked movie.”

  She straightened, narrowing her eyes. “Change your attitude.”

  “Consider it changed, wee sweetheart.” Then he yelled, “Mrs. Collins.”

  The woman ran into the dining room. “I’ve too much to do to jump when you yell.”

  “Will you pack us a lunch? We’re leaving.”

  She threw up praying hands. “Thank you, Lord.”

  Elliott wheeled his chair into the foyer. “If anyone needs anything, tell me now. I’ll be out of contact until dinner.”

  “Nothing,” Allie said.

  “Don’t need anything,” Louise said.

  “Enjoy yourself,” Evelyn said.

  Kevin grabbed Elliott’s jacket and cap from the coat stand. “Do you want me to push the wheelchair?”

  “No. Meredith and I will be at the cottage. Mrs. Collins is sending over lunch. Don’t bother us.” He put on his coat. “Make sure Jake checks the tent carefully. Support, leaks, heat, sound. Everything.”

  “We’re on it, Boss,” Kevin said, opening the front door.

  “And ask him for a report on security detail for the farm and the party.”

  Allie wheeled the chair toward the door. “It’s all on the hundred-point-bullet list you gave us.”

  “Be sure to notify the fire department,” Elliott said. “And put my laptop back on my desk.”

  Meredith noticed Kevin and Allie rolling their eyes at each other. As soon as the front door of the mansion closed behind them, Meredith could have sworn she heard a collective sigh of relief. “What were you doing in there? They all wanted to shoot you.”

  “I asked Allie to review her spreadsheet with me. I wanted to be sure she and Kevin were on target. You would have thought I’d asked for her first born.”

  Meredith set the wheelchair’s brake while she slipped on her gloves. “What’d you do to Louise?”

  “I asked for the menu.”

  “You gave them jobs to do, but you didn’t trust that they would do them. Is that it?” She released the brake and pushed the chair down the ramp from the portico to the brick walk.

  “I know they’ll do what they’re supposed to do. I just wanted confirmation.”

  His staff gave Meredith a glimpse of what would happen at the winery the day before the launch. What could she do to ensure Cailean would launch without snafus and keep her from pulling out her hair? She cringed at the thought of her hair coming out in clumps. Why did everything always circle back to her cancer?

  “How was your ride?” Elliott asked.

  She stiffened and said quickly, “Perfect.” Then after a moment she added, “Do you think Kit would sell Stormy? I’d like to buy him.”

  “He’s not for sale.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  The Cottage on MacKlenna Farm – December 31

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Elliott and Meredith leaned against the headboard naked, checking email on their laptops with empty dinner trays on the floor next to the clothes they’d ripped off.

  “Thank God,” Elliott said.

  Meredith looked at him curiously, her head to one side. “For what?”

  “David talked to a foreman who supervised Gates on a job last year. Said he got a call a few months back asking for a recommendation. He didn’t write down the name of the company, but he was certain it was a Kentucky construction company.”

  “That’s good news. Now you know you’re on the right track.”

  “It will be when we find him, prove he killed Galahad, and that he never worked at MacKlenna Farm.”

  She put her laptop aside, scooted down under the sheet, and rose up on her elbow, watching him. “Proving he was never an employee should be the easy part.”

  He gave her nipple a tweak. “Not necessarily.”

  “Ouch,” she teased. “Please don’t tell me the farm hires illegals.”

  He quit teasing her nipple, stroked her entire breast, and then her neck. “We’re a legit operation. But until the farm stopped growing tobacco in the early 1990s, paying day workers in cash was the norm. It’d be hard to prove he did or didn’t work here.” His voice grew husky.

  “Why would he want to claim he did?”

  Elliott nuzzled her neck. “If his goal is to ruin the farm, and he’s caught, what’s he got to lose?”

  “Would he even know to claim he was an employee?”

  “He’s an asshole. There’s no telling. David will find Gates, and when he does, he’ll get the information he’s looking for.”

  “That sounds ominous.” Her voice grew breathy from the heat Elliott created with his lips and fingers.

  He tugged her toward him. “Come here and let’s pick up where we stopped before lunch interrupted us.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  MacKlenna Farm – New Year’s Day, 2015

  NEW YEAR’S DAY MORNING arrived in a blur and, while Elliott met with David and Chuck, Meredith intended to go riding. Elliott had told her he’d be tied up most of the day and would meet her at six o’clock for cocktails before the party started at seven. Allie had made her an afternoon appointment for a facial, waxing, and manicure. Other than a morning ride and an afternoon at the spa, she had nothing on her calendar until she ran into a gorgeous thirty-something-year-old man in the kitchen.

  “Hi. I’m Meredith Montgomery.”

  A warm, solid grip met hers. “Ted Jenkins, Elliott’s trainer.”

  She smiled at the black-haired, black-eyed man dressed in gym shorts and t-shirt that accentuated his muscled chest, arms, and abs. Her perusal stopped there. “You’re the one member of the inner circle I haven’t met in the last ten days.”

  “I’ve been on vacation. Missed the jaunts to Scotland and the hospital.”

  “Either you have a healthy tan all year, or you’ve been someplace warm.”

  “Hawaii.”

  Now she laughed and held out her hands pretending they were balancing scales. “Hawaii,” she lifted one hand, “or Christmas at Fraser House.” She lifted the other. “That’s a toughie.”

  His brows knitted together. “Fraser House, huh?” He leaned against the counter, crossed his ankles, and studied her. “Stressed, meticulous, wealthy.” He cocked his head and squinted. “A year either side of forty. No cosmetic surgeries on your face. Nice rack. Good skin tone. Vegetarian. Daily exercise. Probably power yoga, weight training, running, plus two or three riding sessions a week. Am I right?”

  Meredith picked her jaw up off the floor.

  He seemed not to take his remarks too seriously, giving her a light shrug. “I’ve got time for a yoga class, if you’re interested?”

  “I’m going riding.”

  “Then you need to stretch.”

  She found Ted arrogant and obnoxious, but he had her placed in the top hole of the pegboard puzzle found in every Cracker Barrel Restaurant from Texas to New York. A hard task for anyone after only saying hello. That earned enough respect from her to take a second look at the young man. If he was Elliott’s trainer, he must be good. She’d had several yoga instructors she disliked but enjoyed their classes. What the heck? Yoga, then riding. Why not? “Let me change clothes. Where should I meet you?”

  “In the training room.”

  “Where’s that?”

  He pointed over his shoulder to the far side of the kitchen. “Through that door.”

  She scrunched her face as she mentally tried to place a gym into w
hat she knew of the floor plan. The door must open into a hallway that leads to the back of the other wing. “I’ll go change. Is there a password to get into the gym?”

  Ted laughed a deep rumbling laugh that tickled her. “No, but the Grinch might ask for your first born.”

  “Well,” she said, throwing up her hands. “He’ll never get one from me. See you in a few . . .”

  Two hours later, sweating, Meredith entered the kitchen to grab two bottles of water out of the refrigerator. “You’d be a hit in the Valley. If you’re ever interested in moving west, I’ll give you the name of a studio that would be a great fit for you. Lots of stressed out, professional vegetarians.”

  “Tempting, but I couldn’t leave Elliott.”

  “How long have you worked together?”

  Ted took a long drink of water. “Ten years now.”

  “Then you knew him before he got hurt.”

  “He was a long distance runner. I helped him train for his triathlons. After he got hurt, we developed a new fitness regime. He works out twice a day, depending on his schedule, which changes daily. Usually, an hour in the morning and an hour late at night.”

  Or who he has in his bed. “What does he do when he goes out of town?”

  “I usually travel with him, but I’ve been on vacation. Just got back yesterday.”

  “You do an incredible job. His body fat must be close to zero.”

  “We try to stay at ten percent.”

  Meredith wiped sweat from her face using the exercise towel wrapped around her neck. “Thanks for the workout. I needed it.”

  “I’ll be here tomorrow morning if you want to switch to weights or do yoga again.”

  “Same time?” she asked.

  “Either before or after Elliott’s workout.”

  Meredith threw her empty water bottle into the recycling bin under the sink. “See you tomorrow.” She walked away, but he called her back.

  “Elliott said you were special. Honestly, I razzed him because I’ve heard it too many times, but he got it right for once. Hang in there. He’s not doing so well right now.”

  “Physically, I know,” she said.

  “It’s not just his leg. It’s the anniversary of Sean and Mary’s deaths, and this business with Galahad is eating him up. I’m afraid he’s abusing pain medication and drinking too much again. God, I know he’s in pain, but David and Kevin don’t monitor his dosage like they should. Somebody needs to watch him now that Kit’s not here, and I’m not around all the time.”

  “Neither am I, Ted. And that’s a conversation you need to have with Kevin and David.”

  Ted broke eye contact. “I have.”

  “I’ve learned there’re topics, like Kit, that you don’t broach with Elliott.”

  “I’m so mad at her.” Ted’s face flashed with anger. “That’s the main reason I didn’t go to Scotland. If I got anywhere near her, I’d go bust the estate’s door down and haul her ass back here. She’s got more guts than any woman I’ve ever met, and for her to cower out is not the Kit MacKlenna I know.” He brushed his sweaty arm across his forehead. “I don’t mean to be gossiping.” He finished his water and threw away the bottle. “I’ll see you at the party.”

  “Are you bringing a date?”

  Ted relaxed his shoulders and smiled. “My partner’s name is Laurence. He’s a PT at Central Baptist Hospital.”

  “Oh. Oh,” Meredith said again.

  He must have read surprise on her face. “Most straight men have a problem with gay trainers, but it’s never been an issue with Elliott. He’s tolerant, except if you mention seeing a ghost. Then he’ll snap faster than a woman with PMS.”

  Meredith didn’t want to laugh, but the remark coming from Ted was too funny. “You’re right. Well, thanks again.” She hurried off to change back into her riding clothes. A few minutes later, she headed over to the barn, thinking through all Ted had told her and what she’d discovered on her own. People loved and adored Elliott. He had a world-renowned reputation for honor and integrity, and he was a passionate and considerate lover. But she didn’t trust him. Not with her secrets, and not with her heart.

  Meredith bumped into Harrison rushing out of the barn. “Excuse me,” he said not even taking notice of who he’d run into. Then he glanced up and met Meredith’s eyes. “Oh, it’s you. I thought you went home.”

  “I did, but I came back for the party.” She worked at being polite, difficult to do with ants crawling up her legs.

  “Don’t you live in California? That’s a long way to go to turn around and come back. Expensive, too.”

  “Napa.” If she didn’t get away from him, she’d soon be stomping her feet to shake off the ants.

  “The Valley, huh? Do you grow grapes?”

  Be gracious. You’re a Montgomery. “I own a family winery.”

  He gave his chin a slight lift. “I’m a wine aficionado myself. What’s the name? I’ll have to sample your wine if I can find any at my local liquor store.”

  “Montgomery Winery.”

  Harrison’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “That’s no small winery. Hey, didn’t I read you’re about to launch a new signature wine?”

  “February sixteenth.”

  “If you come for another visit, bring some,” he said, jumping down from his arrogant stepladder and rubbing his hands together with child-like glee. “We’ll have our own little tasting.”

  Surely, she and Louise weren’t the only ones to see his creepy side. “Elliott’s serving my wine at the party tonight. Let me know what you think. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a twelve hundred pound stallion in the barn waiting to go for a run.” She walked past him, shaking off the tingling sensation.

  Stormy stood in his stall, already under tack. Ears up.

  “You going to ride now, Ms. Montgomery?” a groom asked.

  She glanced at his nametag. “Yes, Peter. Thanks for getting him ready.”

  “No problem, ma’am. Stormy’s one of my favorites.” He opened the stall door and led the horse out to the center of the dark-paneled barn. She bent her knee, and Peter gave her a leg up. “He’s acting a bit frisky. Don’t let him get away from you.”

  Stormy felt different today. She couldn’t put her finger on it—anxious, maybe. Or maybe the anxiety belonged to her. No, she didn’t think so, not after Ted’s yoga class. She decided not to stay out as long as she did yesterday. “I’ll be out about an hour.”

  “I’ll be here when you get back,” Peter said.

  After a half hour spin around the barns and paddocks, Meredith lightly nudged the Thoroughbred’s quivering flanks with her knees, and he took off across the pasture in a gallop. The sweaty silk-like-skin covering his rippling muscles glistened in the morning sun.

  An icy branch broke off a tree with a loud snap and landed in the fence-row only a few yards away. Stormy planted his feet, reared, and spun on his haunches, almost pitching her over his shoulder. Then he took off, galloping toward a three-foot high rock fence.

  He’s going to jump.

  She didn’t know the type of ground beneath the snow. Was it icy? Could he keep his footing? Would he refuse at the last second and toss her over the fence? She tightened her legs. Stormy sailed over the rocks but caught his rear leg. He landed off, snorted loudly, and limped. She pulled him up and swung down. His left rear leg was bleeding. He drew it up close to his body.

  “It’s okay, boy. It’s okay. Let me have a look.” He gave her a fearful whinny and turned his head into her, leaning it against her chest. She hugged him. “I’ll take care of you.”

  When she saw the extent of his injury, bile rushed to the back of her throat. The left rear leg was a bloody mess. He had cut the skin on his long bone down to his ankle. She gagged, almost throwing up. I’ve got to wrap it. I’ve got to do something. There was a trail of blood from the wall to where Stormy stood several feet away.

  She yanked off her scarf. “I’m going to put this around your leg. I won’t hurt you.” Sh
e kept her voice low and calm, although she didn’t feel calm at all. Her neck and shoulders bunched into tight knots.

  He grunted but stood still while she wrapped his leg. Her hands shook. She gave up trying to tie a knot and tucked the loose ends inside the wrap instead. “There. That will hold until Doc can fix you up.”

  She wrapped her arm around his neck. “I’m going to call Doc. You can’t walk home.” Her cell phone was in her jacket pocket. She called the farm and asked for the vet. “It’s Meredith. An icy branch broke off and scared Stormy. He took a rock fence and scraped the skin off his rear leg. It looks bad.”

  “Where are you?” Doc asked in a gruff voice.

  “In the fencerow, parallel to Old Frankfort. There’s a large white house directly across the street.”

  “Keep him still. We’ll bring a van.”

  She unsaddled the horse and continued to talk calmly to him. “Doc’s on his way.” If he had a permanent injury, she’d never forgive herself. She considered calling Elliott but decided to wait until she knew what was wrong. The thought of giving him bad news today made her want to cower in the corner. “I hear the van. Just a few more minutes.”

  Doc and Peter hurried toward her. “How is he?” Doc asked.

  “Staying still.”

  He untied the blood-soaked scarf. “Damn.” He ran his hands up and down the horse’s leg. Doc’s face reddened, his jaw tightened. “We need to take him to Rood & Riddle Equine Hospital. He needs x-rays, and my machine is being serviced.”

  “Can I go with you?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Can I go with you? I want to be sure he’ll be okay.”

  “No. Go back to the house.”

  “What will I tell Elliott?” she asked.

  Doc rubbed his forehead. “Get in the truck.”

  Peter backed up as close as possible, leaving room to extend the ramp. Then he jumped out to get Stormy onboard.

  “Take him on slow. Don’t let him move around,” Doc said.

  “I ain’t gonna let something bad happen to another horse,” Peter said.

  Meredith climbed into the front seat, shivering, more out of fear than because of the temperature. “Shouldn’t we tell Elliott?” she said to Doc.