The Lockwood Legacy - Books 1-6: Plus Bonus Short Stories

by Juliette Harper

  Kate removed the glass chimney from the lamp, and struck a match to the wick. She looked around and realized there were more lamps; one on top of a desk she hadn’t noticed, and others resting on storage cabinets and bookshelves. When she finished lighting them all, the room was surprisingly well illuminated.

  She carried one of the lamps over to the easel and stared at the canvas. Although Kate had never seen a picture of Alice Browning, she knew she must be the woman in the painting, which meant Langston Lockwood was the artist. So that’s where Jenny got her talent. Dear God.

  Turning to the bookshelves Kate found them filled with leather-bound classics. She flipped open a copy of Milton’s Paradise Lost and read the inscription, “Milton wrote, ‘The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.’ My dear Langston, in this life I hope you avoid the inner hells, Benton Browning.”

  From behind her a voice said, “Don’t move.”

  Without flinching, Kate said, “Must be cold as hell for you out here.”

  “Lady, you don’t know the half of it. Put that book down and turn around. Keep your hands where I can see’em.”

  Kate did as she was told and found herself facing a burly man dressed completely in black. Even his face was smudged in grease paint and he was wearing a black knit cap.

  “With your left hand, take that gun out of the holster and kick it over here to me,” he ordered.

  Again, Kate complied and then said calmly, “Friend, I’m betting you’re not the head honcho behind whatever is going on here, so I’m thinking you’re off reservation.”

  “Damn straight I am,” he laughed. “I saw what that bone hunter pulled out of that creek bed. Whatever is in this place is gonna be worth more than what I’m getting paid.”

  “So you’re just going to kill me?” she said conversationally.

  “This is just all too damned easy,” he said, grinning. “No one will ever find you in here and I’ll be long gone by this time tomorrow night. Now be a good girl and help me out. Start opening these cabinets. That one first.”

  He gestured with his pistol barrel to a tall cabinet on her left. Moving slowly, Kate opened the doors and revealed neat shelves of exquisite gold statuary. Behind her the man said, “Hell, yeah! Now we’re talking! I can take it from here.”

  Kate threw herself to the side just as the shot echoed through the small space. She landed beside a pile of art supplies and desperately grabbed a heavy can of turpentine, flinging it at the man as he took his second shot. Her aim with the can was true, but she couldn’t stop the bullet hurtling toward her. The impact hit her like a red hot sledgehammer, but her hand was already inside her boot. She drew the derringer and fired twice.

  With an astonished expression the man looked down at his chest, then back up at her as a darker stain spread rapidly across his black commando sweater. Blood bubbled at his lips. Just before he fell forward he said, “You bitch.”

  Kate fought to keep her vision clear. Her left arm was useless, the shoulder a bloody ruin. The pain was so intense she could barely breathe, but she knew if she lost consciousness she’d die here. The art supplies lay scattered around her, including a pile of clean rags. She stuffed them under her coat and against the wound, moaning and clenching her teeth when searing waves shot through her.

  Slowly she began to drag herself toward the door, leaving a red trail behind her on the planked floor. Agonized minutes passed before she felt the cold night air on her face. She pulled herself into a sitting position against the canyon wall and breathed heavily.

  “Horsefly,” she called weakly. “Come here, boy.”

  In the darkness she heard tentative steps, and then the old pony was beside her, nervous at the smell of blood, anxiously nudging her good shoulder.

  “Go to the barn, boy. Go on, go home.”

  Horsefly nickered and danced uncertainly in place.

  “I’ve been telling people how smart you are, now goddamn it, be smart,” Kate pleaded. “Please, Horsefly, please go home.”

  The darkness at the edges of her vision crept closer and Kate knew she was going to pass out. Just before she spiraled down into unconsciousness, she saw Horsefly turn and trot out of the draw.

  39

  “Will she live?” Jenny asked tightly, staring intently at the doctor standing before her in surgical scrubs. She, Josh, Mandy, and Joe had just walked into the hospital in San Antonio, driving behind the flashing lights of a highway patrol car so they could break the speed limit with impunity. Kate had been brought straight to the facility via helicopter.

  “She’s lost a lot of blood,” he said, “but yes, she’ll live.”

  “And her arm?”

  “We saved it,” he said tiredly, “but I don’t think she’ll ever have much use of it again.”

  “Can we see her?”

  “I can let one of you go in,” the doctor said.

  Jenny turned to Mandy’s tear-streaked face. “Honey?” she asked.

  Mandy shook her head, “You go, Jenny. Tell her I love her.”

  Jenny said to Joe, “You take care of her.” He nodded and she turned to Josh, “You’ll be here, right?”

  “Where else would I be, darlin’?” he asked, giving her a crooked grin.

  She caught his hand and squeezed it, letting her fear show for just an instant in the look they exchanged. “Go on,” he said reassuringly, “go take care of Katie. It’s gonna be okay, sugar. I promise.”

  Jenny nodded, but couldn’t speak. She fell in behind the doctor who led her into the ICU. Kate lay in bed surrounded by medical machinery, her face deathly pale. “Will she know I’m here?” Jenny asked.

  “I know,” Kate whispered. “I’m not dead yet.”

  The sound that escaped Jenny’s throat was half a laugh and half a sob. The doctor left them alone and Jenny drew a chair beside the bed, sinking into it and taking hold of Kate’s good hand. “What in the hell were you thinking?” she said.

  “You found the map?” Kate said, opening her eyes a little and struggling to focus on Jenny.

  “Yes, we found the goddamn map,” Jenny said, scrubbing tears off her face.

  “You would have gone, too. Horsefly?”

  “He came back to the house. Damn near kicked my door down. Rearing and running toward the pasture, looking at us to follow. He led us right to you. We got you down to the creek bed and they helicoptered you out from there. Jesus, Katie, you almost died on me.” The tears Jenny had been trying to hold back flowed freely.

  Kate’s fingers tightened on hers with surprising strength. “I’m sorry.”

  “You do not get to die on me, goddamn it,” Jenny said angrily. “You just don’t.”

  “I won’t,” Kate promised.

  Jenny fought the urge to dissolve completely. “Jake is on his way back from Mexico City. Josh and Joe and Mandy are outside. She says she loves you, but you know how she is about hospitals after Mama.”

  “I know.”

  The doctor appeared at the door, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave now.”

  “No,” Kate said. “Please. I need her to stay.”

  Jenny turned toward him, “‘Need’ is not a word this woman uses. Ever. If she said it, she wants me here and I don’t think you really want to try to kick me out, now do you?”

  The doctor regarded them for a long moment and decided this was not a battle he wanted to take on. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll tell the nurses. But let her sleep. Please.”

  When he was gone, Kate said, “Quit scaring the natives.”

  “Jesus,” Jenny said, lifting Kate’s hand to her lips and kissing it. “You are going to be the death of me, Katie Lockwood. You know that? The absolute, goddamn death. Now do as he says. Go to sleep.”

  “I love you, Jenny,” Kate mumbled tiredly.

  “I love you, too, Katie,” Jenny said. “Sleep. I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  When Kate opened her eyes hours later, Je
nny was still holding her hand, asleep in the chair. She was slumped awkwardly, but someone had draped a blanket over her. Kate’s throat was so dry she had to try twice to get the words out. “You’re gonna have a crick in your neck,” she finally managed.

  Jenny came instantly awake, wincing as she tried to sit upright.

  “Told you so,” Kate said. “Can I have some water?”

  Pushing away the blanket, Jenny got up and poured water from a pitcher by the bed and held a straw against Kate’s lips. “You are just tougher than boot leather, you know that?”

  “Wonder where I got that from?” Kate asked.

  “I cannot imagine,” Jenny said. “How do you feel?”

  “Like a Brahma bull got me down and stomped on me. You okay?”

  “Me?” Jenny asked, looking away.

  “Yes, you,” Kate said. “Look at me.”

  Jenny met her sister’s eyes and saw life there, saw the intelligent, engaged woman she loved. She let out a slow breath and let the tight bands around her chest loosen. “I am now,” she said. “I’m sorry I fussed at you last night.”

  “If you hadn’t fussed at me, I would have figured I was gonna die,” Kate said, managing a grin. “So, what’s the story? How bad am I busted up?”

  “Well, clearly you’ll live,” Jenny said, sitting back down.

  “But?”

  “The surgeon says your left arm won’t be worth much now. The bullet shattered the shoulder joint, tore up all the nerves. He says you should just be glad it’s still attached.”

  Tears came to Kate’s eyes, but she swallowed hard and refused to let them fall. Jenny watched the silent struggle, knowing what this news was doing to her sister, a woman as fiercely independent as herself.

  “Katie,” she said softly. “You’re not alone. We’ll figure this all out. That doctor doesn’t know you like I do.”

  “How the hell am I gonna run a ranch with a bad arm?” Kate asked in a strangled voice.

  “You’re gonna run it with your family,” Jenny said simply. “Bad arm or not, you’re the only boss on the Rocking L. Period.”

  Kate nodded, taking a minute to regain her composure before she asked, “Did you go inside the cave?”

  “Actually, we closed the cave up,” Jenny said in a low voice. “We need to talk about that before anyone starts asking you questions.”

  “Then talk.”

  “I sent Josh and Joe back up into the draw while we waited for the helicopter to fly you out,” Jenny said in a low voice. “They carried that son of a bitch who shot you outside and then closed the cave back up. We’re telling the authorities we’ve been suspecting someone was running a meth lab on our land. You got it into your head to go out looking for them and ran into trouble. Joe’s backing us up and the Sheriff isn’t asking any questions.”

  “The only story you could come up with makes me look like a total idiot?” Kate asked. “What the hell are you all thinking?”

  “We’re thinking that guy was just a flunky,” Jenny said. “Look, I’m sorry, but the meth story was the best we could come up with. Whoever is really after what’s in Baxter’s Draw is still out there. He can’t know we found anything. You have to swallow your pride and back up the story. Will you do that?”

  “Yes, I’ll do it,” Kate said, frowning. “I don’t like it, but I think you’re right.”

  Three days later, Texas Ranger Jack Swinton stood at the foot of Kate’s bed frowning at her. “Katie Lockwood, are you seriously trying to convince me you were enough of a dumb ass to go out in the middle of the night looking for drug traffickers in a box canyon alone?”

  “I’m not proud of it, Jack,” Kate said, “but that’s exactly what I did.” Her face was still drawn, but her color was coming back. She was more than grateful for the option of the morphine pump, but she was already demanding to know when she could go home to the consternation of her doctors.

  Josh and Joe had done their work well, scouring the cliffs until they found her assailant’s camp, and hiding all the evidence. Whoever sent the man on to the Rocking L had serious money. They found high-end telephoto lenses, satellite communication gear, and drones. Josh confiscated the lenses, and the rest of the stuff they smashed, just in case it could be remotely activated.

  Everyone was sticking to the meth lab story, and saying reasonably that if the man had accomplices they were long gone with all their equipment.

  “Well,” Swinton said, scratching at his jaw. “We haven’t found anything out there, but your spread is so big, they could have been set up anywhere. I imagine they were watching your professor friend thinking he might be an undercover guy looking for them. I can’t say I think all the pieces are falling into place perfectly, but I’m choosing to believe it all because it’s you, Katie.”

  A frisson of guilt shot through her. Jack Swinton was a good man and a good friend, but until they’d had a private look at that cave, this was strictly Lockwood business. “Thank you, Jack,” she said, meeting his eyes without blinking. “It was a stupid way for me to handle things. I should have called you.”

  “Damn straight you should have called me,” he grumbled. “I’d hate like hell for you to have gotten yourself killed just because you’re so damned stubborn. But I do have to say this whole business makes me think maybe that Fisk guy was hooked up with drug dealers, maybe even a cartel. Would explain a lot.”

  “Yes, it would,” she said. “That does make sense.” She wished she had come up with that one herself. The more loose ends that were tidied up, the fewer questions people were going to ask.

  Of course, what really made sense was that John Fisk was working on behalf of whoever was behind all of this and was killed when her father complicated everything by refusing to do business with thugs and then killed himself.

  Clearly her father had created a private world for himself in the very cave where he’d discovered the Aztec artifacts, a place he was determined to protect at all costs, even if he had to die to do it. She suspected Langston Lockwood had originally just stumbled on to the cave in its natural state, but then over the years he made it a setting for his secret life.

  Jenny said they were all staying away from the cave until the furor over Kate’s shooting died down and she could return there with them. Kate expected what they would find was the tangible evidence of Langston Lockwood’s lifelong grief over and longing for Alice Browning.

  Over the past few days, Kate had plenty of time to think. It helped her drive back the ever-present throbbing in her arm, which the doctors told her might well be a fact of her life now. The phrase “chronic pain management” was getting tossed around a lot even as they fed her the placating line, “but it’s too soon to tell.”

  She’d like to get the lot of them at a poker table. Worst bunch of liars she’d ever seen. Kate Lockwood was a realist. She knew full well her life changed forever when that bullet slammed into her. That was hers to deal with, but, as Jenny said, for the first time in her life, Kate didn’t have to deal with that or anything else alone. She just hoped whatever the hell her father had been hiding up in the cave was worth what they were all going through now.

  40

  A month passed before Kate was well enough to even think about returning to the canyon with her sisters and the men she now called The Three Jays. As much as she’d tried to be a good patient, her new physical limitations grated on Kate’s nerves and turned her temper surly.

  It seemed the madder she got, the more helpful Jake, Josh, and Joe became — and the more they tended to congregate in Jake’s trailer at the end of the day for a beer and some female-free time. It had become their clubhouse of sorts and Kate knew they needed it. She had a sneaking suspicion that taking up with Lockwood women was not for the faint of heart.

  Josh was no longer accepting client reservations and was doing all the hands-on work at the Rocking L, enduring daily interrogations from Kate that often put her at odds with Jenny.

  “Kate Lockwood,” Jenny snapped
after one especially grueling interview that sent Josh heading straight for the barn uncharacteristically muttering under his breath. “Would you quit grilling that man like he’s some kind of city slicker?”

  “I like things done the right way,” Kate snapped back.

  “No, you like things done your way. Quit acting like Daddy,” Jenny said. “You actually made Mandy cry this morning. Mandy! The sweetest woman that ever walked the face of this earth. Now enough is by God enough. I know you’re hurting, but you need to simmer the hell down. And get out of that damned bathrobe. I’m tired of looking at it.”

  With that, Jenny slammed the door and stalked back to her studio, leaving Kate alone at the main ranch house feeling smaller by the second. An hour later, after laboriously dressing herself, a process so painful she’d had to sit down and take deep breaths not to pass out, Kate walked into the barn and up to Josh Baxter, who actually took a step backwards at the sight of her.

  “I’m sorry, Josh,” she said, holding out her right hand. “I’ve been a real bitch. I appreciate everything you’re doing on this place and well . . . I’m just sorry.”

  Josh shook her hand, but didn’t let go. “It’s driving you insane, isn’t it?” he asked, nodding toward her sling. “Not being able to use that arm.”

  “Straight out of my mind,” she admitted. “They don’t even hold out much hope that physical therapy will help. I wasn’t ready to hear that and I haven’t been dealing with it very well.”

  “How about you start coming out with me of a morning?” he asked. “I’d appreciate you showing me how you like stuff done.”

  Still holding his hand, Kate looked down to keep from crying. “You’re a damned nice man, Josh Baxter.”

  “We’re gonna make this work, Katie,” he said, and then went on as if nothing unusual had passed between them. “Okay with you if I chop some wood this afternoon?”