The Legacy

Chapter Two

Tyler Hunt, whistling a tune that was stuck in his head, looked up from unloading bags of grain when he heard the approach of a vehicle. An airport shuttle van rambled down the road, carrying, no doubt, either a Boston attorney named Red Sanders or a doctor by the name of Rob Marquis. Everyone else had already arrived.

The Hunt ranch was a working operation covering thousands of acres of land. Anyone who signed up for the biyearly cattle drive had to be willing to work because what went on here was the real deal. Cows and their calves had to be herded from the winter pastures in the basin up to the high mountain pastures for summer grazing; greenhorns and pros worked together to make it happen.

The shuttle stopped in the big parking area and a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache and brand-new buckskin chaps climbed out of the back. Hard to tell which he was, a doctor or a lawyer. As the driver retrieved his suitcase, the man looked around with a big grin on his ruddy face. Tyler smiled; enthusiasm always boded well.

A slam of the door up at the house announced Tyler’s mother, Rose Hunt, had also witnessed the arrival and taken time from stocking the chuck wagon to play hostess. A tiny dynamo of a woman who Tyler knew was as tough as the earth she tended, twice as strong as she looked and four times as softhearted, she walked out to the van with a little less enthusiasm than usual, exchanged pleasantries with the driver and picked up the newcomer’s suitcase as the van took off back toward town.

Tyler heard the name Sanders float across the yard—the guy in the chaps had to be the lawyer—as John Smyth, another guest who had arrived earlier in the day, came out of the house. He took the suitcase from Tyler’s mother, who seemed reluctant to release it. As Smyth turned to the lawyer, Rose took off toward the house. It apparently didn’t occur to Red to tote his own bag. Couldn’t help but wonder how a guy like that was going to handle herding cattle without someone holding his hand, but you never knew.

Smyth was a strapping, tall man in his late thirties with dark eyes, a quick wit and helpful disposition. He’d been here only a few hours, but Tyler had spotted him everywhere, talking to everyone, listening with the kind of concentration that encouraged people to open up. He seemed particularly interested in the workings of the ranch and appeared to be a natural when it came to riding and roping.

Tyler kept at the grain, whistling as he worked. There were a good dozen sacks left to unload and tote inside the barn. Rose would make the lawyer feel at home, serve him up something cold to drink, introduce him to the others, get him started with orientation. Then later Tyler would make a grand entrance and give a little pep talk.

Another vehicle caught his attention. This one was familiar, too, as it was the farrier’s big white rig. Tyler had been expecting him for hours and was relieved he’d made it. One of the horses they used to pull the chuck wagon had thrown a shoe the day before, so Lenny had had to make an unscheduled visit three weeks earlier than usual. Tyler threw a sack down on top of the others and jumped out of the truck.

At six foot two inches and muscled from thirty-four years of ranch life, Tyler was a formidable man in his own right, but the farrier always made him feel like a dwarf. What everyone who met Lenny soon recognized, however, was that he had the disposition of a sweet kid. The horses loved him.

The truck stopped close by and Lenny launched his six-foot-six-inch, 250-pound frame from the cab. “Sorry I’m late,” he bellowed in a deep voice that lived up to the packaging. “Got tied up over at Hidden Hollow. So, you’re having trouble with Ned?”

Tyler explained about the thrown shoe.

“I’ll get started on him. The rest of your string isn’t due for reshoeing for almost a month. Long as I’m here, you want me to check ’em out? I’m not due at the Blister Ranch till tomorrow morning.”

“Sure,” Tyler said, taking off his hat and wiping his forehead with his sleeve. “You’re welcome to spend the night. We can offer you a bed and a decent dinner.”

“No need. You know me, I’m like a turtle, carry my little home on my back.” With this he gestured at the dusty camper on the rear of his truck. Tyler wasn’t altogether sure Lenny could stand up straight in the thing. Behind the truck he pulled a big trailer that he called his office. It was filled with supplies and equipment as Lenny went from ranch to ranch on a six-week cycle keeping the horses’ hooves in top condition.

“Suit yourself,” Tyler said, pulling his hat back on his head. “Tell me if you need anything.”

“I’ll just get started and, you know, let you two talk,” Lenny said, his voice lower.

Tyler’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? Let who talk?”

Lenny looked back at his truck and made a little motion with his fingers. The passenger door squeaked open. The glare on the windshield had obscured the fact that Lenny had a passenger.

“I ran across her in town,” Lenny said under his breath. “Because I was coming out here anyway—well, I’ll just go see about Ned.” He made a point of walking toward the horse barn without looking back.

Tyler’s jaw literally dropped as a woman appeared.

Julie?

For what felt like a month, they just stared at each other, he frozen to the ground, she half in and half out of the truck. He took in her sheath of glossy black hair, her deep brown eyes, the elegant features of her face. A year had passed since he’d last seen her, but right that second, it seemed like a lifetime or maybe even someone else’s lifetime.

“What do you want?” he finally managed to say in a voice he didn’t even recognize. It was hard to sound normal when there was a knife twisting in his heart.

That unfroze her. “Well, hello to you, too.” She slammed the truck door and leaned back against it, arms held across her chest, chin up.

She’d always been on the tall, slender side, but she was really thin now, too much so. She was also beat up on her face and what he could see of her arms, like she’d been in a fight. There was something else—a furtive look, a jumpiness he’d never witnessed in her before.

Had she left him to get tangled up with some kind of vicious jerk? That was the exciting new life she’d dreamed about? The wonderful world of domestic abuse?

“I need to talk to you,” she said with a defiant tone to her voice. Or maybe it wasn’t defiance. Maybe it was nerves.

“I know I haven’t signed the divorce papers,” he told her. “I will, though. Been busy.”

“It’s not about that.”

He turned his back on her and returned to his truck. With one leap he was in the bed again, hefting sacks of grain, moving faster now, fired up with nerves.

She followed him and then stopped. Standing a few feet away, she murmured, “It wasn’t easy coming back here, you know.”

“Then why did you?”

It took her a moment to answer and when she did, her voice shook. “Tyler, I’ve messed everything up.”

He glanced at her, hoping the look in his eyes communicated the fact that he thought she was an expert at messing things up and he wasn’t interested in it anymore. When she started to continue, he cut her off.

“Don’t tell me, Julie. I don’t care. Just leave.”

Her response came quicker this time. “How do you suggest I do that? Lenny is my ride.”

“Walk. Fly. You left once, you can do it again.”

“Tyler, please listen to me. I need—”

He threw the bag to the ground and cut her off with a single slice of his hand. “No, you listen to me.” He stopped and shook his head but didn’t add anything because he didn’t know what to add.

Below him, Julie rubbed her temples. The action exaggerated the sharp angles of her shoulders. He hitched his hands on his waist and stared at his boots for a second, taking deep breaths.

He had to stop acting like a hurt kid. Fact was, she couldn’t walk all the way back to town and he wasn’t about to be alone in a vehicle with her. He could get one of the many ranch hands to give her a ride, but looking around, he didn’t see a soul.

“You can stay until Lenny leaves,” he finally said. “Try to keep out of the way. We’re leaving on a cattle drive in the morning and everyone is pretty damn busy.”

“What about Rose?”

“My mother? What about her?”

“Maybe she could use some help.”

“I doubt she wants your help,” he said. In truth, his mom liked Julie and would probably love to see her, but that would just up the pressure on him to be reasonable and accommodating, neither of which he felt inclined to be, not with Julie, not now.

“I guess not,” Julie said. “That’s another bridge I burned, isn’t it? Rose probably hates me. I shouldn’t have come.”

Was he curious what had brought her back? So what if he was? He’d live with not knowing. He lifted another sack and heard himself say, “Cabin eight is empty. It’s yours for the night.”

The relief in her voice was genuine. “Thank you.” Then she added, “But Tyler, please, can’t we talk for a moment?”

Bag atop his shoulder, he paused and looked down at her. “I’m very busy...”

“It’ll only take a minute.”

“Just stop,” he said with a sarcastic laugh and a sweeping glance. “I’m not falling for that. Look at you. You’re a mess. Something bad is going on. Man trouble? New boyfriend got a temper?”

“You’re acting like a jerk,” she said.

“There you go. I’m a jerk. No news flash there, right?” It went against every ingrained instinct of his to turn her away, but there came a time when a man had to look after himself.

She turned with a flourish and stomped toward Lenny’s truck. Maybe she planned to sit in the front seat all night. Fine with him. As he kept at his job, he saw her retrieve a large paper bag and a purse from the front seat, then walk off toward the line of pine cabins south of the main house which doubled as a lodge. She was traveling kind of light.

He looked away from her retreating form. When he heard a door close up at the cabins, he dropped the sack he held in his arms and sank onto the side of the truck bed, winded not with effort but something else, something deep inside his chest that felt as if it was sucking the breath out of his lungs.

Julie was back. And just like that, everything felt different. He rubbed his eyes and swore under his breath.

* * *

AT FIRST J ULIE LOCKED the door, sat on the edge of the double bed and tried to pull herself together. Coming face-to-face with Tyler had been a lot rougher than she’d anticipated.

For two days of an endless bus ride where every stop and every new person to board loomed as a potential threat, she’d been afraid to sleep and too frazzled to eat. Getting to the ranch had been her solitary goal.

And now she was here and sure enough, just as she’d known in her heart of hearts, Tyler hated her. Couldn’t stand the sight of her. Winced when he looked at her.

Damn.

She finally got to her feet and pulled the curtain aside. The blinds were open, and through them she could see that Tyler was still in the back of the big truck, hard at work.

It had been over a year since she’d seen him and time had done nothing to lessen his physical appeal. If anything, he was more dynamic than ever, his shoulders and chest broader, body leaner, face more chiseled. The ease with which he handled those fifty-pound bags of grain was remarkable and the memory of those strong arms closing around her in the dead of the night still made her ache with loss.

How could two people who were so right together also be so wrong?

She let the curtain fall back into place. She’d screwed everything up. Everything. What had made her think Tyler would want anything to do with her? Now what?

She finally realized she still carried the brown paper bag and set it on top of the dresser. It held the only possessions she had with her—a second pair of jeans so new they still bore their tags, underwear and a couple of T-shirts, all purchased in town before coming out to the ranch. She was down to about twenty dollars in cash and she was afraid to use her credit cards or cell phone because Roger Trill was a cop, and didn’t that mean he had access to data banks and records?

She wasn’t sure. She didn’t know. If he was working independently from the department, if he was a crook, then maybe he would have to be cautious about drawing attention to himself. Maybe he would just cut his losses and forget about her.

She’d never talked about this ranch to anyone, not even her friendly neighbor or the other woman in the office or the lady who did her dry cleaning who was crazy about country western music and would have loved to talk about Montana. She hadn’t used the name Hunt since leaving here. She’d figured if she needed so desperately to change her life, to give up what she had in order to find herself, well, then, she shouldn’t rely on the past.

Gee, hadn’t that worked out well?

A fresh start, that’s what she’d wanted. She’d chosen Oregon because she’d never been there. She’d found the job with Dr. Killigrew almost immediately and been thrilled to discover it included occasional travel and adventure. And it paid well. She’d rented an apartment and spent her paychecks furnishing and decorating it. There wasn’t one thing there that even hinted at ranch life. She’d made a place she could call a home. A fresh start. A new life.

There was a phone sitting on the nightstand, a holdover from the pre-electronic days when every room had had a land-based line. Today was a Thursday, which meant her neighbor Nora had worked the morning shift and might be away from work by now. Julie sat down on the side of the bed and placed the call. Nora picked up almost immediately and her relief at hearing the call was from Julie brought tears to Julie’s eyes. Someone still liked her.

“I’ve been worried about you,” Nora cried.

“I’m so sorry,” Julie said. “I had to get away and there wasn’t time to let you know.”

“I thought something terrible had happened to you!”

“No, I’m fine.”

“The police came by and got the manager to open your door in case you were inside, you know, hurt or something.”

“The police?”

“Yeah. You weren’t in your apartment of course, but the cop asked me a few questions about your emotional state of mind. What’s going on?”

“Just a minute, Nora. Did you get a name from the policeman?”

“Yeah, Brill. No, Trill. He was really worried about you, Julie. He said they suspected you purposely stepped in front of a bus.”

“No, that’s not true,” Julie protested.

“Are you depressed? Why didn’t you come to me? What happened?”

“Nora, please listen. It didn’t happen that way.”

But Nora couldn’t seem to stop and listen. Instead, her voice continued to grow more shrill. “Did you really run away from the police station without telling anyone? Julie, that cop made it sound like you’re crazy, like you’re trying to hurt yourself.”

Julie clutched her stomach. Was Trill trying to set her up for a fake suicide?

“Was he alone or with other policemen?”

“Alone.”

“Did you tell him anything?”

“What could I tell him? I’d been with George that afternoon and then when I got home, that policeman showed up.”

Julie knew how stressful time with Nora’s brother was for Nora. George was dying, and even though they tried to pretend it wasn’t happening, they all knew it was. “I’m sorry I’m adding to your stress,” she said. “Tell George hello for me when you see him again.”

“I’ll do that. I’m going back over there tonight. What the heck is going on with you? Where are you anyway?”

“That doesn’t matter. Don’t tell Trill you heard from me.”

“But what if he comes back?”

“Play dumb. Promise me. I’ll explain it when I get home.”

Nora sounded worried, but she agreed. “I have your number on my caller ID,” she said. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning—”

“No!” Julie said. “No. I won’t even be in the same state by tomorrow. Please, Nora, just don’t talk about me with anyone.”

“Not even your boss?”

Julie rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t have a boss. Killigrew fired me.”

“Then why did he come here looking for you, too?”

Why would Killigrew travel across town to come to her apartment? “I don’t know,” she said truthfully.

“Is that why you were emotionally distraught? Because you got fired?”

“I’m not distraught,” she insisted. “Trill is making that up.”

“You sure sound like you’re distraught.”

“Not the way you think.”

Nora was silent for a second, then she lowered her voice. “I hear a noise coming from your apartment,” she said. “Just a second, I’ll see what’s going on.”

“No—” Julie said, but Nora didn’t respond. Instead, Julie heard footsteps and then a door opening. “Oh, it’s you,” Nora’s voice said to a third party. “I wasn’t expecting—”

She was cut off by a male voice and then she spoke again. “Sure, I’ll be happy to help,” she said. “Just give me a second to get off the phone.”

The man asked her to hurry and this time he was closer and Julie recognized the voice. Chills raced up her spine. Trill! As she heard the door close, she said, “Nora? What’s Trill doing there?”

“He wants me to take a look in your closet and see if anything is missing.”

“Nothing is missing,” Julie said, “for the simple reason I didn’t go home before I left.”

“Well, I can’t tell him I know that, can I? Not if you insist I not mention talking to you, although, listen Julie, if I did tell him you’d called, he’d stop worrying about you, right? So—”

“No,” Julie said. “This is important. Don’t say a word to him.”

There was another pause before Nora finally responded. “Okay, but I’m worried about you. You’re not acting like yourself.”

Julie reassured her again and hung up.

Trill was at her apartment for a second time. What was he looking for? And what would have happened if she’d been home?

And why had Killigrew come? Maybe he’d had a chance to think and now regretted firing her. Maybe she could get her job back, make this up to him. Or maybe he just wanted to hear more about what Roger Trill had been after.

She closed her eyes. For a few hours, since arriving in Montana, she’d felt safe, as if she’d escaped. And now it seemed the trap was closing around her again....

Chapter Three

Tyler finished hauling the last sack of grain into the barn. He was so preoccupied that the last thing in the world he felt like doing was facing a room full of strangers who expected and deserved a friendly chat. He just couldn’t do it. Instead, he sent Mele, one of the wranglers, to give the orientation talk. He’d make up for his no-show at suppertime.

Why had she come back here?

Because she’s desperate. She’s in trouble.

And why was that his problem? She’d stood right over there that last day and told him she felt as if she’d been swallowed by his life, she needed one of her own, she had to leave, there was no hope for them, he should forget about her and all their plans and find someone new. There would be no babies, there would be no future.

She’d cut him open and pulled out his heart.

He cleaned out a few of the horse stalls, attacking the chore like a man possessed. He was restless inside and out and couldn’t wait to hit the trail. The cattle were mostly corralled nearby waiting for the morning when they’d head up toward the mountains. All day his wranglers had been giving riding and roping instructions to the guests, showing them training films, preparing them for tomorrow. The air on the ranch seemed to crackle with energy as everyone geared up for the upcoming ride.

He had a million things to do to get ready and here he was trying to come to grips with memories he’d worked a year at forgetting.

Julie.

He’d known in his heart that marrying her was a mistake. She was a town girl, her parents owned a florist shop and she’d worked in it since she was twelve. He’d looked at her work ethic and been impressed. He’d looked at her long legs and big brown eyes and been consumed with desire. She looked good, she smelled good, she’d seemed genuinely fascinated in just about every word he uttered. They’d dated through college and she’d moved out of her folks’ house and onto the ranch a week after graduation, the brand-new Mrs. Tyler Hunt, exchanging one life for another.

And it had been good for a while.

Peering out the barn door, he looked toward the cabins and thought about walking up to number eight and talking to her. Hear her out. Give her advice or money or whatever she needed. Then sign the damn divorce papers and get it over with. He should have done it months before. Inertia had kept him tied to her.

He stood straight, heaved a deep breath and actually walked a step in her direction. Then he stopped. No. He couldn’t do it.

* * *

SHE LOOKED OUT the window again. Tyler was nowhere to be seen.

Should she stay tucked in this room out of sight? There was an obvious allure to that plan. The four walls felt safe. Still, staring at them wasn’t going to resolve anything and if the giant raw boil festering in her gut was any indication, sitting still a moment longer was going to be her undoing.

He didn’t want her here, that much was clear, but maybe she could go outside for a while and just avoid him. Was her horse still on the ranch or had Tyler sold him? If Babylon was here, would Tyler come unglued if she took him out for an hour or two? Would he even have to know?

But he would; the man knew everything that went on here. The only mystery to Tyler Hunt had been his wife.

Opening the door, Julie was surprised to find the sun had dipped lower in the sky. Sunset was at eight-thirty or so this time of year, and evenings could get chilly. She went back inside and retrieved her red raincoat which she’d spent hours on the bus repairing with a sewing kit she bought along the way. The garment was expensive, though, or had been when she bought it in a boutique. No one would mistake it for couture anymore unless they were a big fan of the pieced-together Frankenstein look.

A glance up at the mountains revealed the snow had melted, but probably not that long before. Of course it had melted; Tyler wouldn’t be moving the herd if it hadn’t.

She’d helped with a few of the cattle drives when they were first married five years before. Then she hadn’t been able to stand being away from Tyler for very long and those nights under the stars or cuddled in his tent still awakened twinges she doubted would ever completely go away.

Sooner or later, she’d just stopped going. He’d called her spoiled and immature for not wanting to help, and she’d wanted to snap his head off. Was it immature to like different things, to want more out of life than cows and mountains?

The only one in the horse barn was Lenny, the farrier, and he was busy clipping the hooves of a palomino Julie didn’t recognize. She returned his smile of greeting and walked down to Babylon’s stall. Sure enough, the big red gelding was still there, his white blaze as blinding as always, his huge brown eyes alert and soft at the same time. He whinnied when he saw her and she offered him the apple she’d taken from the barrel as she entered the barn.

“How have you been?” she said as he dispatched the apple in a couple of bites. “Are you mad at me, too?”

The horse sniffed her hands for more produce and she stroked his head. “Want to sneak away for a while?”

The horse whinnied again and Julie opened the stall door. It was while she fastened a lead to his halter that she noticed a jacket hanging from a hook on the outside of the stall and beneath it, next to a stool, a pair of boots.

Her jacket, her boots, both still sitting here after a whole year as though she’d taken them off yesterday.

She looped the lead around a post and sat down on the stool, turning each boot upside down to make sure it wasn’t home to a spider or two, then exchanged her casual leather shoes for the boots. They fit as they always had, like a second skin. Babylon snuffled her hair as though in approval.

Next she shook out the denim jacket and exchanged it for the red one. “I’m back, at least for tonight,” she told the horse, and led him to the area they used for saddling.

Waving off the help of a new wrangler, Julie saddled Babylon before leading him out of the barn. She rode toward the river, not as comfortable and accomplished a rider as Tyler, but Babylon was an easy horse with a smooth gait and an even temperament.

She didn’t need to think twice about where to head. There was one spot that had always filled her with peace when she felt this way and she headed there now. She would go to the river even though it meant riding by the century-old ranch house she and Tyler had shared during their marriage.

The house was still there, two stories of white shingles, a broad porch, barns and pastures and corrals. Tyler’s truck wasn’t pulled up out front and she wondered if he’d moved back to the main house after she left. The place had a deserted appearance.

Eventually, as she got closer to the river, the land began to slope gently downward until it sported underbrush, trees and wandering animal trails. She heard the rush of water before she saw it, catching sparkling glimpses through the branches as she headed to the bend where she knew a downed tree arched over the water.

This was the place on the ranch she’d missed the most, her private spot where she’d come to think and dream and work things out in her head—the one place where she could be sure to be alone.

The breeze ruffled the boughs overhead. The smell of flowers and grass chased away some of the insecurities and fears that had driven her here and she knew the sound of moving water would calm her. She pulled the horse to a stop after a while, preparing to get off and walk him down the steeper bank to water’s edge, but stopped when a glimpse of something big and brown down by the river caught her eye. Her first thought was that a bear had wandered down from the mountains.

And then she realized it was a horse. Babylon sensed this, too, and made a little sound in his throat.

Her heart made a startled leap and it was a measure of where her head was that the only thought that sprang to mind was that Roger Trill had somehow teleported himself from her apartment to the river. Babylon gave a contented whinny and the horse by the river responded by tossing his head and staring up the slope.

She finally recognized Yukon, the dark gold gelding with the almost perfect white star on his forehead. Tyler’s horse. Peering more closely through the trees, she glimpsed a tall figure standing atop the log, gazing downstream, apparently unaware of her presence, probably because the noise of the rushing water under the downed trunk drowned out everything else.

The sight of him standing where she’d so often sat for hours startled her. On the other hand, now was her chance. She had him cornered—he’d have to listen to her. She started to dismount and then paused.

It felt like an ambush. She’d already pushed herself on him and he’d made his feelings about her clear. Could she really confront him while he stood literally out on a limb?

What was he doing here? With a cattle drive starting in the morning, he didn’t have time for idleness. Undecided about what to do, she sat there for what seemed like hours, but when he took off his hat, sat down on his heels and stared into the water as though searching for answers, she knew she couldn’t encroach on his space and insist he pay attention to her. You had to ask for help, not demand it. She didn’t have the right or the nerve. Even fear hadn’t pushed her that far—yet.

As she turned Babylon, she spotted another rider through the trees. A man had stopped his horse farther along and seemed to be sitting astride his mount. Distance and foliage hid his identity from her, but she was almost positive she didn’t know him. Dressed as he was in a Stetson and shades of browns and turned at that angle, he looked like any other cowboy.

She was afraid to take a breath, and stilled Babylon by leaning forward and running a hand down his powerful, smooth neck. “Quiet, boy,” she whispered, and waited....

The stranger’s attention stayed riveted on Tyler. In fact, he seemed totally oblivious to her presence and by the way he’d positioned himself, she got the distinct feeling he was doing his best to be invisible to anyone down at the river.

Julie urged Babylon forward, turning to glance over her shoulder when they broke the trees, heart drumming against her ribs as she imagined the stranger coming after her.

But he didn’t.

Which raised the question: Did Tyler know he was being watched?

* * *

TYLER ARRIVED BACK at the lodge to find the guests, a couple of the wranglers and his mother seated around three of the dining room’s round oak tables.

He made a quick head count and realized there was an additional person, who must have arrived while he was blowing off steam at the river. Figuring it must be the doctor they’d been expecting, Robert Marquis, he looked for the newcomer. The only one he could see was a woman of about thirty-five with dark hair and rhinestone glasses perched on a pert nose. She wore a blue neck bandanna and a red-and-white-checked shirt and was seated at a table with Red Sanders, the Boston lawyer, and John Smyth.

Well, maybe they’d gotten the name wrong. Maybe it was Roberta Marquis.

Tyler steered himself their direction and sat down at an empty place next to the woman. Across the room he saw his mother staring at him with a strained expression.

What was that about?

The easy conclusion to reach was that she’d seen Julie, although he imagined if that was true, she would have insisted she join them for dinner. Her glance seemed to stray to his left—was she staring at John Smyth?