Red Thunder Reckoning

by Sylvie Kurtz

  WEARING A DISGUISE of jeans, T-shirt and a Rangers baseball cap, Tessa Bancroft huddled at a pay phone beside the 7–Eleven. Wind clubbed the booth’s glass with skeletal knocks, making it hard to hear over the noise.

  This was all Ellen Paxton’s fault.

  Without water, the judge shouldn’t have let her keep the horses. Fixing everything should have taken her at least a couple of days. She should have had to pass an inspection before she could turn the system back on.

  The plan had been perfect. No one could connect Tessa with the “accident.” By all rights, the judge should have handed the horses back to her. They should be at the clinic by now.

  But something had gone wrong. And they were still under Ellen Paxton’s meddling care.

  “She’s endangering the project,” Tessa said. “The black is running in less than two weeks. I can’t have those five horses ruin my chances at winning.”

  “Tessa, darlin’, you chose the wrong woman to mess with. She’s got more lives than a cat and you don’t stand a chance of taking anything she has her heart set on.”

  “Don’t you understand how close we are?”

  “We?” He had the gall to laugh. “Now, tell me again why I should help you win something that belongs to me in the first place.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Because your horses are involved. Do you really want to see the Royal Legacy name associated with a scandal?” Her reflection in the booth’s glass showed a wicked smile. “Think of the shame. Like father, like son.”

  He tutted. “But see, now they’re your horses. You stole them from me. You stole my research. You’ll have to take the blame as well as the glory.”

  She’d always known he played dirty. Getting involved with him had been a calculated risk from the beginning. But the lure of winning, especially in Sheree MacQueen’s backyard, especially with the horses, had won over caution. Her blue-blood mother might have abandoned the bastard daughter she’d produced with her stable hand, but she could not deny her her rightful place in the winner’s circle. “I’ll bring you down with me.”

  “Sorry, darlin’, but I’ve got enough problems of my own without takin’ on yours.”

  “You have no choice.”

  “I don’t take kindly to threats.”

  Before Tessa could say anything more, he hung up. She slammed the receiver into its cradle. There was only one thing left to do.

  Eliminate the problem.

  Without Ellen, there was no reason for the horses to remain at the ranch. And the poor woman had already proven she had a propensity for accidents.

  As for the connection to the research, she had the perfect solution.

  Chapter Eight

  “Are you two done in there?” Ellen asked over the corral fence.

  A gust blew strands free from her braid, setting them in motion like golden streamers. Kevin’s fingers actually twitched at his side, such was his need to touch a curly spiral and wind it around his finger. He hitched his thumbs into his jeans pockets, then glanced at his brother. “Almost.”

  He hadn’t expected to have to deal with Chance again so soon, but here he was with his antagonistic eyes and his features pinched tight. Together they’d walked every inch of the barn and the surrounding paddocks while Ellen dealt with the plumber and the vet. They’d found nothing. Yet a part of Kevin still felt he had to prove his innocence in this matter.

  “Is it all right if I put a horse in here?” Ellen asked. “The plumber wants to pump the water into the field and the noise is scaring Perseus.”

  Kevin deferred to the sheriff.

  Chance nodded. “Go ahead.”

  Fatigue bruised her eyes. The streak of dirt across her cheek looked like dried blood against her moon-pale skin. The wave of tenderness cresting through Kevin caught him by surprise. She shouldn’t be working so hard, but he had no right to suggest she rest. And before he could relieve her burden, he had his critical brother to appease.

  “How’s she holding up?” Chance asked as she left to fetch Perseus.

  “She’s tough—tougher than you give her credit for.”

  “You’re not still in love with her,” Chance said. The statement was more a warning than a question. Kevin knew there was no right answer.

  The obligation born of guilt had become something else altogether over the past few days. Kevin had thought he could help her in a time of need and wipe the slate clean knowing she’d go on to succeed. But all the old complicated feelings were coming back, tumbling into a great big ball of confusion.

  He wanted her in a different way than when they’d both been seventeen. He tried telling himself he hadn’t fallen for her all over again, that this wasn’t love, but simply caring. Then the invisible connection between them would click and the hum of contentment that filled him whenever she was near would purr to new heights.

  Chance hitched a foot on the lowest rail. “She’s missed two physical therapy sessions since you’ve been around.”

  “She’s had plenty going on to work out her muscles.” Wind kicked up the sand in the corral and spun it in small eddies that skittered along the ground. The sound of the blast against the denim of his jeans was a hiss.

  “I’d hate to see her progress slow.”

  “I’d hate to see her lose her spirit. She needs to do this. She needs to care for these horses.”

  Chance’s elbows splayed at his side like an old-time gunfighter reaching for his side arm.

  Shaking his head, Kevin gave a dry laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Remember the movie The Good, The Bad and The Ugly?”

  Chance frowned. “What about it?”

  “Whenever Clint Eastwood found himself in a tight spot, they’d play that eerie whistle.”

  Chance’s gaze narrowed.

  “I just heard the tune whine in my head.”

  Ellen and Perseus shuffled into view from the back paddock. “You’ve always been the good. I was the bad.”

  “Kyle—”

  “It’s best if you call me Kevin. For Ellen’s sake. I love her, Chance. I always will.” He ran a hand over the warped lines of his scars. “But she doesn’t need this.”

  “It’s not your scars I’m worried about.”

  “I know. She deserves better all around. But I need to apologize. This is the only way I can do it without hurting her.” Kevin went to the gate, opened it for Ellen and took the horse from her.

  “I’ve got him.” His chin jerked toward the front gate. “You’ve got company.”

  A black truck drove up and parked by the barn. The woman from the bakery exited and waved. Ellen ran to meet her and fussed at the baby while Taryn unfolded the tonneau cover. Carrying her daughter, Taryn headed toward them. Her long brown hair was caught in a ponytail and her blue eyes sparkled as she looked at her husband.

  “I brought some drinking water and sandwiches.” She gave Kevin a nod of greeting and Chance a quick kiss, then handed him his daughter. “Here, since y’all are just standing around doing nothing, you can hold Shauna while I give Ellen a hand unloading everything.”

  With a wave and a smile, she left. Both women seemed to talk at once as they lugged jugs of water to the house. Their laughter drifted on the breeze. Something inside Kevin constricted.

  A gurgle from the baby made him tear his gaze from the women to the girl in his brother’s arms. She was a little butterball with a fluff of black hair, big blue eyes and a killer smile. Chance will have a hell of a time when she started dating. Looking at his niece dressed in her watermelon sundress and hat, Kevin could almost understand Carter Paxton’s protectiveness when it came to his daughter Ellen. If this little girl were his, he’d hate the thought of having someone like the cocky teenager he’d been come knocking at his door.

  Then his gaze drifted to his brother, and for the first time he saw him in a different light.

  Gone were the harsh lines, the cold eyes, the predator tightness. One small woman and an even tinier gir
l had transformed him into a giant teddy bear. Love shone from his eyes as he watched his wife disappear into the house. When his daughter batted at his cheek for attention, he met the tiny fist with a loud raspberry into her palm that sent her into a fit of laughter. Shauna’s joy brought an adoring smile to his face.

  “You’re happy,” Kevin said through the tightness in his throat.

  Chance looked up, contentment radiating from him. “I am.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Kevin looked away, found his gaze straying to the house and the light burning brightly in the kitchen against the gathering storm clouds. That safety, that contentment, that happiness was what he wanted for Ellen. “Bancroft is behind this.”

  “There’s no way to prove it. He certainly wouldn’t have done the job himself. And the water’s washed away any evidence.”

  “Take a good look at what he did.” Kevin ticked off each point with a finger. “He messed with the water supply. That hurts her operation. It overwhelms her with extra responsibility. It puts the horses’ welfare in jeopardy. One call to the judge and he can get the horses back.”

  “So why hasn’t he done it?”

  “Because he can’t admit he knows about this.” Kevin stared at the slate skies. The wind carried the scent of rain. More water would only make Ellen’s life more miserable. “You’re from here. What do you know about Bancroft?”

  Shauna reached for her father’s hat, grabbing the brim with two fists. Chance took the hat off his own head and put it on his daughter’s, playing peekaboo with her while he spoke. “Only what I see in the papers and on television. He’s good at what he does. He’s a man who likes the camera and plenty of attention. He talks big. He plays hard. He plays to win.” Chance swept his gaze around to the barn. “But this looks like just an accident. The plumber said it looked like the pipe had a weak spot that gave way.”

  “Why is he fighting for horses he doesn’t even want?”

  Chance shrugged and crammed his hat back onto his head, much to Shauna’s disappointment. Next the baby tackled the star on his chest with fingers and mouth. “Some people just hate to lose.”

  Kevin’s jaw tensed. He couldn’t just stand here and wait for the next disaster to happen. “There’s got to be something more. He could have manipulated the media to get his way, but since the initial report, there’s been nothing on the news. Why not?”

  “It doesn’t exactly show him at his best.”

  “Or maybe he’s got something to hide.”

  Chance shot him a lethal glance. “Let it go. If you’re right, if it is Bancroft, then it’ll all blow over in a few days when the horses go home.”

  “Unless he can’t wait that long.”

  The wind picked up and Chance shielded his daughter from the blowing dirt. “He will. He doesn’t want the bad publicity.”

  “There’s something wrong with these horses. What if he’s trying to hide the fact that they’re sick.”

  “What does that get him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re asking for trouble when there’s no need to.”

  Kevin caught sight of the house, of the warmth of the light, of the women in the kitchen. “Trouble. According to you, that’s my specialty. But if it was Taryn who was fighting to speak for the horses, you’d do all you can to make sure her voice wasn’t silenced.”

  Chance pressed his little girl tight to his chest and kissed the top of her watermelon-slice hat. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”

  Chance started to walk away, then stopped. “You should tell Ellen who you are before she finds out. Whoever sent me the anonymous tip could use that fact to hurt her.”

  As his brother joined the women who were heading toward the barn, Kevin couldn’t decide if Chance had given him a blessing or another warning.

  “HOW’S SHE DOING?” Ellen asked later that night as she entered Calliope’s stall and handed him a plate of sandwiches. Sitting on the stall partition, Kevin grabbed a triangle of smoked turkey on multigrain bread and took a bite. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the first satisfying mouthful hit his stomach. The judge had come and gone, and for now they had a reprieve. He’d be back in a few days, then everything would be up for grabs again.

  “She’s breathing easier.”

  Dr. Parnell had given Calliope a shot of antibiotics and another to help open her airway. To keep Ellen busy, he’d also suggested a steam inhalation.

  The mare had given up by the time they’d found her that afternoon. Only Blue’s dedication had saved her. Ellen thought his manipulation of the horse’s survival instincts was magic. What she didn’t realize was that the selfless love reverberating from every cell of her body had given back the mare her fighting spirit. Not anything he’d done. Not the drugs Dr. Parnell had injected into her.

  There was so much more to this woman than kindness and gentleness. There was a core strength in her that put him to shame.

  “What do you know about the horses from the wreck?” he asked, to direct his thoughts on less treacherous grounds.

  She sat in the thick nest of wood shavings by Calliope’s head and stroked the mare’s muzzle. Blue was beside her, keeping his faithful guard on the horse he’d rescued. “Not much except that they belong to Bancroft and were on their way back to his ranch from the track in Houston.”

  “Where’s his ranch?”

  “The other side of the Gabenburg county line toward Beaumont.”

  Kevin frowned and reached for another section of sandwich. “So what was he doing out this way?”

  “Maybe the highway was closed because of the storm that night.”

  But that didn’t make much sense. “What do you know about their pedigrees?”

  “Not much. My background is in barrel racing and Quarter Horses.” She plucked hay from the net and tried to entice Calliope into nibbling. Eyes half-closed, head hanging low, the mare ignored her.

  He took another bite of the sandwich and chewed it slowly. “I noticed a computer in your living room. Does it have Internet access?”

  She nodded.

  “I think we should do a little background research on Bancroft and his horses.”

  She frowned and glanced at her watch. “Dr. Parnell got the results from the second round of tests.”

  “Anything show up?”

  “The blood count came in low. He says the horses’ symptoms—dull, lethargic demeanor, tiring easily, pale membranes in the eyes and mouth—all point to anemia. He thought that was odd, because the feed had an elevated amount of iron.”

  “Maybe they’re getting worse because they’re not getting their regular feed.”

  “I thought of that.” She frowned and twisted the hay in her hands.

  “You can’t blame yourself. You were right to test the feed first.”

  “Maybe. We’ll switch tomorrow and see if that helps.”

  “If the feed is high in iron, that means Bancroft knew the horses were anemic. The feed is just to cover the symptom.”

  Her head jerked up. “You’re right. So where is the anemia coming from?”

  “I think we need to look into their pedigrees and their race records.” He polished off the last sandwich quarter. “I think we also need to take a look at Dr. Warner’s book.”

  “The ‘protocol’ book.”

  “Yeah,” he sneered. “The ‘protocol’ book. When he gets here in the morning, you divert him with Calliope and I’ll see what I can see.”

  “What if you get caught?”

  He smiled. “Maybe that forkful of manure just happened to fall into his bag, and naturally, I was making sure none of his belongings got stained.”

  She laughed and the sound of it heightened the crazy hum inside him. “I don’t know. That sounds risky.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “Hey, with a face like this, what’s not to trust?”

  She lifted her hands and exaggerated the tremor of her tired muscles. “I think he’d be more apt to believe
my shaky hands than yours.”

  “It’s your call.”

  The mare coughed. He slid from the rail. Ellen stood up. He tried to move out of her way, but misread her intention and ended up nose to nose with her.

  Her arms were small and delicate beneath his hands, all bones under that soft pink skin. Her moonflower scent, subtle and feminine, was enough to fog a man’s brain with thoughts better left unrealized. His breath hitched. There, right there, were her lips, ripe and soft, parted in invitation. All he had to do was lean forward and taste her.

  A sudden hunger for her ripped through him. Her eyes had gone blurry. Her body seemed to soften before him. She wouldn’t push him away.

  But he wasn’t who she thought he was and he’d promised Chance not to hurt her.

  “Ellen.” Shaking his head, his hands gripped her arms tighter. He started to push her away.

  Then she leaned in, eroding his resolve. One taste. Just one taste. He could steal that bit of memory to keep him company on cold Colorado nights, couldn’t he?

  He was an idiot. But then, when it came to Ellen, he’d never been able to think quite straight.

  ELLEN HAD FANTASIZED about the taste of him all evening. Leaning forward now that he was so close seemed natural. She brushed her lips against his, feather-light. Just to see how soft they were, she told herself. But if she thought the impulse would ease her curiosity, she was wrong.

  Two sensations hit her simultaneously: she felt like a fool for being so forward and taking what wasn’t offered, and she felt a delicious ache stir her with astonishing need.

  More, she had to have more.

  The taste of him was dark and dangerous, like Kyle’s had been. It ignited a fire she’d thought too dead to revive. The flames blazed so fast and furiously, she had to hang on to his shoulders or fall. Without meaning to, she deepened the kiss. His body jolted hard against hers. The shock of the spark it created vibrated inside her in helpless echoes.

  What have I done?

  She jerked away. He stepped back. In a clumsy dance, they shuffled until Calliope and Blue stood between them.