Legacy of Lies

by Jillian David

  When she angled away from him, he unbuckled his belt, the clink of metal setting her nerves on edge. His amber eyes hadn’t left her face for a moment.

  A ringtone broke the silence.

  “Shit.” He fished in his back pocket, jostling her on his lap. Cramming the phone to his ear, he barked, “What?”

  A woman’s high-pitched voice followed. He threw the phone to the side and jumped up, pitching her off his lap onto the couch.

  “The ranch is on fire.”

  Chapter 13

  Forget a bucket of cold water.

  Garrison righted Sara from where he’d dumped her on the couch. Between fear for Zach, who was probably on the ranch, and the abrupt interruption of sexy times with a hard, hot rancher, she teetered on the edge of sanity. She looked down. Right, and she was half-naked, too. Fabulous. She clutched her sweatshirt to her chest.

  When she glanced up, Garrison stood halfway, his gaze riveted to her breasts.

  Her mouth went dry.

  His voice cracked. “Shit. I need to go. Now.”

  Somehow, she managed to string coherent words together. “I’m going with you.”

  “Like hell.”

  “I don’t know what the situation is, but you might need an extra set of hands.”

  “Might not be safe.”

  “Am I safe here? With Hank running around?”

  “Damn it. You’re right.”

  “Give me a second. Um.” When he continued to stare at her, she twirled her finger. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  As he spun around, she whipped the bra back on and shoved her sweatshirt back over her rumpled hair. Hopping on one foot and then the other, she pulled on tennis shoes and snagged her hair clip on the way out of the house.

  The ranch burning. How bad was it?

  She slammed the front door closed and raced to the passenger side of the truck. Before she could buckle up, Garrison pushed the truck to near maximum allowable speed as the vehicle roared down the side street and onto the state highway.

  Shadows from the yellow dashboard lights gave him a haunted, corpselike expression. The hard line of his jaw in profile cut the moonlight coming through the driver’s side window. Vinyl creaked as he gripped the steering wheel.

  Too long. They wouldn’t get there in time. Faster, faster. But safely.

  He tried making a call en route, but the call must have gone unanswered, since he flung the phone on the floorboard. A heavy web of dread settled on her shoulders until she wanted to rip the uncertainty off. What was burning? Was anyone hurt?

  She rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans and returned one hand to the door handle.

  Sniffing, she caught a faint scent of smoke, getting stronger.

  As they passed under the Taggart Ranch sign, a glow appeared over a low hill.

  Garrison’s intake of breath matched her own.

  Holy mother of God.

  “Goddamnittohell.”

  The phrase no sooner made it past his lips when the truck’s speed jumped another notch. As they fishtailed on the gravel, she bit her lip while the moonlit world flew by. Tears welled in her eyes at the smell of smoke, much more acrid now.

  As the truck crested a hill, Sara stifled a scream. Hungry flames leapt from what looked like a fully engulfed structure, possibly a barn, throwing cruel reflections on the ranch house windows nearby. The truck screeched to a skidding stop in front of the massive ranch house, fifty yards from the inferno. A wave of heat blew Sara back when she jumped out of the truck.

  Far back on the ranch road, flashing lights piercing the smoke heralded fire trucks’ arrival, the red-and-white strobes bouncing off the clouds of dust as they approached.

  “Oh my God.” Sara coughed as the stopped near the front porch of the ranch house.

  A figure dashed from the smoke and flames rolling out of the barn, her face smudged and orange hair flying in a wild nimbus.

  “Shelby!” Garrison screamed and ran toward her. “Where’s Zach?”

  “In the house.” She grabbed a hose next to the house and soaked a blanket before throwing it over her head.

  Garrison’s fingers dug into Sara’s bruised upper arm, hard, and he spun her around. She tried to ignore the painful throbbing created by his grip. “Get in the house. Please. Make sure Zach is safe.”

  As she dashed in the house, Sara paused at the door in time to see Shelby sprint past three other men and back into the blaze via the far side of the barn.

  Garrison screamed, “Shel, no!” He ran after her and directly toward the inferno.

  • • •

  In the yellow haze, Garrison blinked to clear his blurry vision as he stumbled toward the barn, searching for Shelby. Heat buffeted him in harsh waves. A horse whinnied from within the burning structure, and cows mooed in distress in the nearby small pasture behind the house. Bringing all the herd down out of the back forty now seemed like a bad idea, given the unhappy lowing going on in the field. Stressed cattle equaled more problems for the ranch. Son of a bitch, he had a bigger crisis right now.

  Three figures dashed in front of the blazing barn, throwing water and yelling to each other.

  Garrison chanced a glance over his shoulder. The firefighters poured out of their vehicles and disengaged hoses and equipment at lightning speed.

  It wouldn’t be fast enough.

  If only they could keep other buildings from burning. He eyed the large timber-constructed ranch house. Zach and Sara were in there. At least the light breeze carried sparks away from the structure for now. Garrison had to keep them safe.

  Kerr limped over, leading two wild-eyed horses by the bridles. The rearing horses tried to pull him off the ground, but he persisted until he swatted them into the field with the cattle.

  Garrison’s father, bent over and coughing, doggedly kept filling water and hauling it over to the barn for Eric to throw. After a few more rounds, the men’s shoulders slumped. The buckets dropped, useless, at their feet.

  “Where’d Shelby go?” Garrison shouted as he reached the men.

  “I thought she was getting more water.” Kerr hurried back, limping more than normal. Like a magnet needle, he rotated right to the barn, using his connection with Shelby to find her. “Shit. There.”

  Cold terror warred with the waves of heat hitting Garrison.

  “Damn her.” Eric took determined steps closer to the scorching heat until Kerr clamped down on the man’s arm.

  An ominous creak of beams screamed into the night, popping over the roar of the inferno.

  “Son of a bitch,” Garrison whispered. He whipped around. His father swayed on his feet, gasping for air. “Kerr, get Dad in the house!”

  “What about Shelby?”

  “Damn it, Kerr, take care of him!”

  Visibly torn, Kerr finally limped over and guided their dad through the doors of the house. Garrison’s last image was of his brother’s sooty face with the hard line of his mouth, tight like an overtuned instrument. Garrison turned back toward the fire.

  The train-engine howl of the conflagration rang in his ears. Firefighters approached the heat.

  Eric stumbled forward. “I’m going in after her,” he yelled.

  Garrison hung on to Eric’s arm. “You can’t go in there; let’s—”

  A large section of the roof collapsed in a howling whirlwind of sparks and heat.

  God. Shelby.

  With a gut-wrenching burst of disintegrating wood, one wall fell inward.

  A horse and bareback rider burst out of the inferno as the remainder of the structure imploded. The horse’s eyes rolled back in his sockets, and he reared on back legs. The rider lay on the horse’s back and clung to the mane, cleared the fire and most of the heat, and then slid off to one side.

  “Geezus.” Eric got to his feet and skidded to a stop, grabbing Shelby before she could hit the ground.

  She wheezed and hacked until tears ran down her soot-dusted face.

  “Get her out of here,” Garrison or
dered Eric. “I’ll put the damned horse in the corral.”

  “I’m on it.” When she waved off a firefighter’s offer of medical assistance, Eric cursed as he slung her over his shoulder and hurried her into the house. An EMT followed with his medical bag.

  The firefighters began to spray the fully engulfed barn as clouds of steam and smoke thickened the air.

  “Whoa, boy, I know you hate the fire,” Garrison crooned to the panicking horse over the roar of water, flames, and sirens. “Let’s get you to a safe place.” He petted the skittish horse’s head. After getting a better grip on the bridle, he redirected the horse to the corral on the far side of the main compound.

  Kerr hobbled up behind him and shut the gate after the horse. “Holy backdraft, Batman. What the fuck?”

  Another large fire engine screamed to a stop, lights flashing. In rapid coordination, more firefighters dashed out, pulled a hose, and drained the tank in a matter of minutes.

  The thick smell of water, mud, and burnt wood seared Garrison’s nostrils. He turned to Kerr.

  “Son of a bitch. What happened?”

  Kerr scrubbed at his sooty face. “No clue. One minute we were sitting in the house having dinner; next minute, the damn barn was up in flames.”

  Garrison asked, “Where’s Dad?”

  “Inside. With Shelby, our boneheaded sister. She nearly died. And since she’s more stubborn than even you, she won’t let anyone check her out.” Behind his mad words, Kerr’s wary expression told another tale. He was scared. No doubt, the inferno had triggered some of Kerr’s carefully hidden PTSD.

  “We’ll try again to get someone to evaluate her. I’m sure she’ll be okay.” The confidence in his words? All for Kerr’s benefit. Truth be told, Garrison was crapping himself.

  Garrison blew out a breath, and then started coughing until his eyes ran. “You get everything out of the barn? All the animals?”

  “With that last horse of Shel’s, yes, it’s clear.”

  Another whoosh of fire and sparks heralded the beginning of the end. Wood beams straggled upward, like charred fingers reaching into the cold night sky. Despite the firefighter’s efforts, all that remained was a flaming, smoking, twisted hell of wood and metal roofing material.

  The barn. Gone. And the supplies with it.

  A weird sensation on the back of Garrison’s neck made him turn around to peer into the dark fields and hills. He could have sworn he heard a deep chuckle in the distance near a far hill, but with all the yelling and roar of the fire, how could he have heard anything?

  He stared at the moonlit mountains, indistinct behind the clouds of smoke.

  Could this have been set deliberately?

  The fire trucks left after the flaming rubble had been reduced to smoldering ashes. Kerr and Garrison completed statements for the police arson investigation, and that was that. Silence, punctuated by the occasional hiss of a hot spot in the rubble.

  They checked once more on the horses and cattle and, satisfied that the animals would be safe until morning, trudged back to the house.

  The front door felt like it weighed a thousand pounds to push open. Tonight, they could have used Vaughn’s power to anticipate danger. Would’ve come in handy tonight. Damn his brother, running off. Dumping all the responsibility on Garrison’s shoulders.

  The last million wishes hadn’t brought Vaughn back home; no chance today’s would, either.

  Tomorrow, Garrison would have to look into building a barn, and fast, with winter coming.

  Great. More shit to shovel.

  Chapter 14

  His father sagged in a recliner, skin ashen in the areas not covered in soot. Rode hard and put up wet didn’t even begin to describe the level of exhaustion etched on his old man’s face. He kept shaking his arm and hand. Maybe he’d injured himself hauling buckets.

  Although he stood, Kerr leaned on the back of the recliner with his bad leg lifted off the floor, as if he couldn’t manage more pressure on the prosthetic. His eyes had gone blank, and sweat beaded his soot-smeared forehead. Shit. If Kerr had a flashback tonight, he’d have to talk his brother down again instead of monitoring the ranch. Too much to do.

  From his position next to the mantel, Eric’s scowl reflected exactly how Garrison felt.

  Shelby leaned forward from her seat on the end of the couch, her head in her hands. The longer parts of her hair had been burnt off, and the remaining seared ends stuck straight out from her now mostly shoulder-length hair. Her harsh wheezes and wet coughs filled the room as she struggled to catch her breath.

  On the opposite corner of the couch sat Sara, her dark eyebrows raised, hair piled back up in an adorable mess on top of her head. The fear in her eyes when her gaze locked onto his rocked him to his boots. When he opened his mouth, she shook her head and darted a glance downward.

  Zach had fallen asleep, his burnished head pillowed on her lap, a small hand resting on her leg. With him curled on his side, Sara rubbed his back. Her sweet smile twisted something inside of Garrison’s chest. And just knowing Sara and Zach were safe in his house? The tightness over his neck and shoulders unclamped by a few degrees.

  Then the sensation changed into a different kind of tension: desire and unfinished business.

  What would it feel like to relax with her fingers running through his hair, his own head resting on Sara’s soft thighs?

  Preferably, she would be naked.

  He took a sharp breath and choked; the stinging scent of smoke drilled him back to reality. Someone could have been hurt or died. Thank God everyone was okay.

  Zach was safe. In the peace of sleep, his son appeared younger, like he looked years ago.

  No. One year ago. Before Tiffani left.

  Son of a bitch.

  Kerr repositioned his stance with a thunk and limped around to their dad, shaking him awake.

  “You need to get to bed, Pop.”

  Dad groaned as he leaned forward, forearms propped on the sides of the recliner. “Christ almighty, what happened th-there?”

  “A large chunk of our property went up in flames. No idea why. But you look like hell. Sure I can’t take you to get checked out at the hospital?” Kerr asked.

  “What use have ... for a hospital?” He pushed up from the chair and trudged out of the living room, listing to one side. Kerr trailed behind him. “Can you take care of everything, son?” He braced a hand against the log wall and peered at Garrison.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Kerr flinched, dropped his hands, and returned to the living room.

  Get used to it, little brother. I know how it feels to be inadequate. Only reason he’s talking to me is because Vaughn’s not here.

  “Sure, Dad. Get some rest,” Garrison said. “If anything comes up, we’ll let you know.”

  His dad shuffled with an unsteady gait down the long hall. It was unusual for him to agree so easily to go to bed.

  A prickly sensation crawled over Garrison’s neck until he firmly stuffed it in his mental “deal with it later” box.

  He had enough bad shit going on right now.

  “So?” Garrison said as he walked between the chairs and the fireplace. “What really happened? Anyone know?”

  Shelby’s head came up. When she opened her mouth, another coughing fit stopped her cold.

  Eric took a breath, opened his mouth, froze, and then melted back into the wall.

  Breathing finally calm, she spoke, her voice hoarse. “Someone was out there.”

  “Be more specific,” Garrison said.

  “I got kind of a feeling”—she peeked at Kerr from under her eyelashes, and he nodded—“so I went out to check on the horses. I heard footsteps in the barn. Before I could find out who it was, the back corner of the barn exploded in fire.”

  “Shit, Shelby. We don’t know who was out there. One, take someone out with you when you get one of your feelings.” Garrison raised his hand as she opened her mouth. “Two, what the hell kind of stupidity possessed you to go back int
o a burning wood structure?”

  “What?” Shelby gaped. “I’m not a kid, and I’m not a delicate flower, so drop the caveman crap. Why wouldn’t it be perfectly safe to walk around on our own property?” Her orange, ash-dusted hair glinted dully in the living room light. “Second, those horses are part of our family and part of our livelihood, you moron. Someone had to save them.”

  He glanced toward the couch but couldn’t meet Sara’s eyes. She shouldn’t have to hear all of the Taggart family dirty laundry. Or the family secrets.

  But any rebuttal was lost in Shelby’s paroxysm of coughing. One hand gripped the arm of the couch while another pressed to her thin chest. Finally, she stood up and stared him down, still gasping for breath.

  “At least I was here to help, unlike some folks,” she said in a whisper. “So you’re welcome, you big jerk.”

  No one moved as she left.

  After long minutes of hearing nothing but Shelby’s footsteps receding up the stairs and then the shower running, Kerr broke the silence. “What’s the plan, then?”

  “Get the assholes who did this, man.” Eric’s gaze darted toward Sara and a still-sleeping Zach. “Sorry. I know, I know. Language.”

  Kerr rolled his eyes and snorted.

  “We have to consider all possibilities. It could’ve been a freak accident,” Garrison began.

  Kerr dropped into his father’s vacated recliner with a groan and straightened both legs in front of him. “Unlikely.”

  “Garrison?” Sara’s soft voice cut through the room like molten silk, riveting all three men’s attention on her. “What if the fire had something to do with what happened earlier today?”

  Eric frowned. “What?”

  “Explain. Now,” Kerr said.

  She swallowed, and her hand drifted over her neck. “Hank Brand threatened me earlier this week and then again at my home today.”

  Kerr rubbed his hair. “Why?”

  “For hanging out with Garrison. For standing up for Zach against Hank’s older brother. For the fact that, um ... Hank and I used to date.”

  The glitter in her eyes begged Garrison to take her in his arms, but somehow he managed to stay put.