Shadows from the Past

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Shadows from the Past Page 18

by McKenna, Lindsay


  Lifting her head, she looked around. The quaking in her stomach had stopped. She felt calmer. Allison drew in a ragged breath. Well, logic was on her side and she clung to it. Kam Trayhern was a direct threat to everything Allison had tried to build to insulate her children from the harshness of life. A part of her was sorry it had to be done this way, but Allison knew that Kam wasn’t about to leave her newfound father. The woman had been searching for Rudd all her life. And no way would Allison have her children jilted out of their rightful inheritance. Not ever…

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “KAM?” Rudd called from the office desk. He’d seen her coming down the hall.

  “Yes?” Kam stopped at the counter. It was 6:00 a.m. on Friday, the last day for this group of dude-ranch guests. On Sunday, there was major cleanup to get ready for the new group coming in that afternoon. Placing her elbows on the counter, Kam smiled over at her father. A frown furrowed his brow. He held the phone in his hand toward her.

  “It’s Wes. He wants to talk to you.”

  “Oh?” She had just visited him yesterday. The memory of his kiss and their talks were still vivid. “What’s wrong?”

  “He tried your cell and didn’t get you.”

  Kam took the phone and stood next to her father. “Hi, Wes.”

  “Hi, Kam. I tried your cell but it wasn’t working.”

  Groaning, Kam said, “The battery is dead, I’m sorry. What’s wrong? You sound upset.”

  “My mother just called me from the hospital. My father died.”

  Heart plummeting, she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Wes. Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes, if you have time, could you be here?”

  “Hold on, I’ll ask Rudd. I’m here at the desk.” She put her hand over the phone and relayed the sad information. “Do you mind if I spend the next two or three days with Wes at his ranch?”

  “No, go ahead,” Rudd said, compassion in his voice. “Just let us know the name of the mortuary and we’ll send flowers. And let us know when Dan will be buried. The least we can do is show up for the funeral.”

  Kam nodded and got back on the phone. Her heart ached with grief for Wes. What would it be like to be disowned by one’s father? She couldn’t fathom such an act by any parent toward their child. Did Dan Sheridan ever realize how much Wes was suffering beneath that curse? Well, it was too late now. She knew Wes would need help.

  “I’ll pack my bag and be up there as soon as possible,” she promised him in a low tone.

  “Sounds good,” Wes said, his voice roughened with emotion.

  “Are you sure you can do without me around here?” Kam asked, handing the phone to Rudd.

  “Go help Wes. He and Anne will need it.” With a shake of his head, he added sadly, “Dan Sheridan was a drunk all his life and now Wes has to clean up after him. Anne Sheridan will collapse under the weight of it all, and without Wes, that ranch will fall apart.”

  Kam didn’t disagree. She absorbed her father’s tall, lean form. “I’m sure glad you didn’t disown me,” she said quietly.

  Rudd looked up at her and smiled. “That wouldn’t ever happen, Kam.” He reached out and took her hand and squeezed it gently. “I know we have a lot of ground to make up with one another, but we’re going to sort it all out.”

  Gripping his hand, Kam felt new tendrils of love blossom toward this man. He looked tidy in his denim cowboy shirt, his jeans and scuffed boots. Kam couldn’t imagine Rudd Mason in any other kind of clothing. “Thanks, Rudd. That means a lot to me.”

  “This is a time of upset and chaos for many people. Wes lost his father. Anne lost her husband. I’ve gained a daughter. Change isn’t always bad.” He grinned, trying to push away the somber feelings. “Get going. Wes needs you.”

  Yes, he did, Kam realized, aching to get to him as soon as she would manage. Her new family would be having breakfast at 8:30 a.m., late for a ranch that counted on every daylight hour to complete chores, but Allison had laid down the law. She needed her beauty sleep and refused to get up any earlier. This time, she would miss the family meal, though she couldn’t say she was sorry about it.

  As she hurried back to her suite along the hall shining with incandescent light from several wall sconces, Kam walked quietly so as not to disturb the rest of her sleeping family. She hurriedly packed a suitcase and carried it out to her car.

  Iris was outside the ranch office door, pulling on her gardening gloves, when she spotted Kam. “I just heard what happened from Rudd. Will you give Anne and Wes our condolences? We’ll be coming to Cody for Dan’s funeral.”

  “I will, Iris,” Kam said, closing the trunk.

  Her grandmother came over to stand near the driver’s door. “You okay? You look pretty grief-stricken yourself by the news.”

  “Just shaken more than anything. I guess I didn’t think he’d go so soon.”

  “Death claims us all,” Iris said sympathetically. She reached out and patted Kam’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’ll be over there for the next few days to help them get through this. Do what you can, where you can. It’s the little things that help out, like cleaning up the dishes, cooking meals, vacuuming the floor, dusting and stuff like that. May not seem like much, but your world comes to a roarin’ halt when someone you’ve lived with all your life suddenly dies.”

  “You know that better than anyone,” Kam agreed, a catch in her voice as she noticed the woman’s grief over losing Trevor. Was it possible to find that kind of deep, lasting love? Wes was that kind of man: loyal, true and enduring. Instinctively, Kam knew that. But so much stood in their way right now. “I’ll take your condolences to them.”

  “Stay in touch, all right? Because if Anne or Wes need anything, we’ll be there for them.”

  “Sounds good,” Kam said. She waved goodbye, climbed into the car and backed out of the driveway. As she turned and drove down the road, the sun edged over the horizon. She had to admit it, she felt a fierce, undeniable love for Wes. What did the future hold for them? Her own family situation was tentative right now. Allison didn’t like her and her two half siblings ignored her. In many ways, Kam was no better than an intruder. Iris and Rudd had told her not to feel that way, but when three other people were giving her dark looks and snubbing her, how was she to feel? Driving off the dirt road and onto the asphalt highway, Kam was grateful to have some alone time to try to answer those questions.

  Her mind spun with confusion. Wes had to deal with his family’s ranch, which meant he might not return to Elkhorn. Kam couldn’t imagine Wes walking away from his mother or her plight, nor would she expect him to.

  Whatever happened, her life felt upended. The commute soothed her nerves and, as she drove north through Grand Teton National Park and into Yellowstone, she absorbed the volcanic scenery. She would go through the mud volcano area, turn east and eventually leave the famous geyser park. Cody was roughly fifty miles outside the east gate to Yellowstone. On her way, she saw herds of buffalo scattered across lush landscape. Fog lay across one meadow and elk seemed almost ethereal as they grazed the summer grass. When she neared creeks or rivers, Kam had to slow down because some areas teemed with moose. The seven-foot tall animals were so huge that if a collision occurred both animal and driver could die.

  Even with the distraction of the mountains, the forest and the wild animals, Kam’s thoughts kept returning to Wes. She ached over his loss. She couldn’t get to him fast enough.

  “HOW ARE YOU doing?” Anne Sheridan asked her son as she entered the ranch house. Placing her black leather purse on a small table in the foyer, she attempted a smile.

  “I’m okay,” Wes said, giving his mother a warm hug. “How are you?” The hospital was only about ten miles from their ranch, which was good news. At least she hadn’t had a long drive to add to her stress. Searching her small oval face, Wes noted the dried tearstains on her cheeks. His mother always wore some makeup, but today even that couldn’t cover her grief. How she could love a man like his father was
beyond Wes.

  “In one way, I’m glad it’s over,” Anne told him in a quavering tone. She smoothed her pink blouse and rearranged it around the waist of her dark blue slacks. “At least he’s no longer suffering.”

  Wes bit back a response. He wanted to say, and we aren’t, either. We’re free of the bastard. But he didn’t dare. He had no desire to hurt his mother any more than she hurt already. And clearly, she was. “Kam is coming to help us the next three or four days.”

  “How kind of her,” Anne murmured. She looked around the quiet ranch house. “I think I could use some help. I—I just can’t seem to put two thoughts together. I’m misplacing things…”

  “I’ve got everything under control here,” Wes gently assured her, placing his arm on her shoulder. “Why don’t we go to the kitchen table and sit down? Did you have a mortuary picked out for him?” He couldn’t even say the word father.

  As she walked down the hall, Anne placed her arm around his waist. Eastern sunlight flooded out of the kitchen. “No, I didn’t.”

  “I’ve got all the info,” Wes told her. “The other day when I was in Cody at the feed and seed store, I stopped by several of them. I have their brochures on the table. I’ll take care of it.”

  Anne gave her son a grateful squeeze, and walked into the kitchen. The smell of coffee was welcome after the sterile odors of the hospital. On the table was a small stack of brochures, paper and pens. “You’re so organized, Wes,” she told him as she sat. “Are Chris and Rachel coming?”

  “I’ve been on the phone with them,” Wes admitted, pouring coffee and setting the mugs on the table. “With their jobs, they can’t come here to the ranch to help. But they want to know the name of the mortuary and they’ll be at the burial services to support you.” He knew his younger siblings hated Dan Sheridan even more than he did. He wondered if his mother realized they were coming because they loved her—not him.

  Relieved, Anne closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m so glad,” she whispered unsteadily. Opening them, she watched Wes sit down at her elbow. “What would I do without you here?”

  “Mom, all you need to do is hire a good foreman. He can run this ranch better than…” He snapped his mouth shut. He was well aware of his father’s will and what it said—his mother got everything, which was fine with him.

  “There are so many decisions to make,” she whispered, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

  Wes could barely stand to see his mother crying, but now she was better off in his mind. No longer was Dan Sheridan telling her what to do and when. Or keeping her out of ranch business when she should have been immersed in it. His mind ranged back to Rudd and his mother, Iris. She and Trevor had trained Rudd from boyhood to run their ranch. Dan should have done the same thing, but he hadn’t. “Look, whatever you decide, you know us kids will go along with it, Mom,” he told her gently, laying his hand over hers, Wes saw her try to smile, but failed.

  “Thank you. I—I know you children and your father never got on. I—I’m a part of that. As I sat there with him dying in the hospital, I reviewed my own life.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ve failed you children. I’m so sorry. So sorry…”

  “Mom, don’t go there right now,” Wes pleaded hoarsely. “Let’s just pick out a funeral parlor. One day at a time, okay?” He couldn’t help but be shocked over her admission, and felt some of the weight melt off his shoulders. His mother had always defended Dan to the three children. Maybe dying provided clarity for those left behind. His mother was a teacher and that’s all she knew. And right now, looking into her teary eyes, Wes wondered if she wanted the ranch at all. The thought struck him—would she sell the ranch? All he could do right now was address the brochures. One thing at a time.

  He wanted—needed—Kam at his side. Just knowing that she was on her way gave him hope as nothing else could. In a few hours, she would be here—at his side. Where she belonged.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  WES WAS OUT on the front porch when Kam drove up. Finally. He wanted to jump for joy. He quickly settled his Stetson on his head and walked out to where she’d parked, beneath a group of shady cottonwoods. Some of the cowhands were busy at the barn corral branding new calves. His other hands were out checking on the various herds.

  As he watched Kam climb out of her hybrid car, he realized just how much he needed her. How he envied the peacefulness evident in her face. Obviously, she was in a good place. Was this what happened in a healthy relationship? When one partner went down, the other would support him through the trying times? Wes didn’t have any decent role models to be able to know for sure.

  Kam turned and flashed him a warm smile.

  “Hi, stranger,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. As he approached Kam, he noticed she wore her usual jeans and a dark green T-shirt with an orange flower pattern. Her short black hair ruffled in the breeze. She wore no makeup but she didn’t need a thing to look beautiful.

  Kam heard the strain in Wes’s voice. Marred with grief, his eyes glittered with tears. Her heart twisted as she watched him struggle. What was it about men that made them afraid to cry? Afraid to feel? It didn’t matter. She rushed into his arms. Kam embraced him and buried her head against his neck and shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, Wes,” she whispered, holding him. His arms tightened strongly about her, and then he relaxed, as if surrendering to her womanly strength. They stood in one another’s arms, holding and comforting. Kam could only hear the pounding of their hearts beating in unison. His breath grazed her cheek.

  Wes groaned as he felt tears squeezing out of his tightly shut eyes. He did not want to cry! With Kam’s soft body against his, all of the walls he’d built to remain strong dissolved. A sob like a fist punched up his throat. He gulped hard to stop it, struggled and then felt a gush of tears down his cheeks.

  “Stop fighting,” Kam said urgently, holding him even tighter. “Go ahead and cry, will you? It’s all right, Wes. You’ve been through so much….”

  She understood, somehow made it safe for him to unleash those emotions. The tears flowed freely. All Wes wanted right now was the safe harbor of Kam’s arms, her body against his and her soft breath against his neck. He allowed his anger and grief to manifest themselves through his tears. Wes could not recall how long it had been since he’d last cried. When his father had disowned him two years ago, it had done nothing but fill him with rage and confusion. He’d never cried. Not until now.

  “Shhh, it’s all right,” Kam whispered, sliding her fingers through his short, dark hair. With long, gentle stroking motions, she slid her hand from his neck, across his tense, shaking shoulders and followed the deep indention of his spine. Wes was strong and proud. Kam knew that. And she was sure the tears he shared were a rare occurrence. She could count on one hand how many times she’d seen her adopted father cry. And when he had, Laura had held him. Now, she was holding Wes. Maybe a man needed a woman to hold him. It was an act of love and care. Love? Just when had she fallen in love with Wes? As she stood gently rocking him, Kam thought back to how her feelings for him turned to more than just friendship. Obviously, the kiss on the dance floor hadn’t helped matters. Ever since, she hadn’t stopped thinking of him on an intimate level. It must have. She pressed small, soft kisses against his neck. Kisses meant to heal him, to take away some of the pain she felt trembling inside him.

  Though he seemed reluctant, Wes eased away from her. With an embarrassed swipe of his hand, he washed away the evidence of his tears. Moisture beaded on dark brown lashes, and he studied her in the lulling silence. His gray eyes were dark and muddy.

  “Oh, Wes,” she whispered, framing his face with her hands. Leaning forward, Kam kissed the tears on his cheeks away. And then her mouth drifted into his. She felt him tense for just a moment, his fingers gripping her hard. And then, he took her commandingly as his lips moved roughly against hers.

  Kam had never been kissed like this. Her entire world spun. She melted beneath his fiery, searching embrace. Th
e sounds of birds singing, the rustle of cottonwood leaves dissolved. Her heart almost leaped out of her breast with joy. Kam moaned in response to the wonderful feelings Wes evoked within her. His mouth was strong and hungry. But so was hers. How long had she dreamed of really kissing Wes? Almost nightly, Kam realized as their mouths clung greedily to one another. His tongue glided gently against her lower lip as if to invite her inside him. Even though his kiss scorched her, Kam felt him monitoring her every reaction. Wes did not want to hurt her with his intensity.

  Finally, Wes slowly separated from Kam. Inches away from her, he stared into her wide, flawless eyes. Wes released her shoulders and framed her face.

  She swallowed hard and whispered, “That felt so right….” His dark eyes were stormy and filled with hungry desire—for her alone.

  Wes could barely breathe and his pulse raced. His lower body was hard with need. Pushing a few wisps of black hair off her brow, he managed, “I don’t know why it happened, but I don’t care.”

  Closing her eyes, Kam breathed deeply. His fingers brushed her temple. Oh, how she longed to feel his long, callused hands range across her body. When he released her and stepped back, she opened her eyes. They stood so close to one another. Her hands ached to embrace him once more. But now was not the time.

  “Tears are healing,” Kam told him in a low, unsteady voice. “Thank you for trusting me enough to cry. You needed to, Wes. There’s so much pressure on you.”

  Wes took another step away because if he didn’t, he would grab Kam and drag her into the house, to his bedroom, and make love to her. “I don’t remember the last time I cried, Kam. Thanks for being there.”

  Kam smiled reassuringly even as he created more space between them. How rugged and handsome he looked in his jeans and dark blue long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled up to just below his elbows. His boots were dusty, showing how he worked even during the death of his father. She made a motion toward the house. “Is your mother home?”

 

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