touch me in the dark
by
patricia rose moor


Popular author Patricia Rosemoor brings you the very special stories of
these three McKennas in her latest trilogy, THE McKENNA LEGACY.  In See
Me In Your Dreams she introduced you to this dynamic family, whose
story continued with Tell Me No Lies.  Now uncover the secrets and
share the adventures of 11 the McKennas as Pat continues with Touch Me
in the Dark.

Enjoy!

The Editors

ILHOIJ!  TTI

Intrigue"

DID YOU PURCHASE THIS BOOK WITHOUT A COVER?

If you did, you should be aware it is stolen property as it was
reported unsold and destroyed by a retailer.  Neither the author nor
the publisher has received any payment for this book.

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the
imagination of the author, and hove no relation whotsoever to anyone
bearing the same name or names.  They are not even distantly inspired
by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents
are pure invention.

All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in
part in any form.  This edition is published by arrangement with
Harlequin Enterprises H B. V. The text of this publication or any part
thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the
written permission of the publisher.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of
trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hbCed.  out or otherwise
circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of
binding or cover other than thot in which it is published and without a
similar condition including this condition being imposed on the
subsequent purchoser.

Silhouette and Colophon are registered trademarks of Harlequin Books S.
A. " used under licence.

First published in Great Britain 1997

Silhouette Books, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey

TW9

I SR

Patricia Pinianski 1996

ISBN 0 373 22390 0

46-9707

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Mackays of Chathom PLC, Chatham

To Dayton Hyde, real-life hero and founder of IRAM (Institute of Range
and the American Mustang) and the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary, P.
O. Box 998, Hot Springs, South Dakota 57747, USA.

For more information about wild mustangs and the adoption programme,
contact BLM, Adopt-a-Horse Program, P. O. Box 12000, Reno, Nevada
89520,

USA.

prologue

The sky had changed swiftly from a luminous pink to a deep copper by
the time Oscar Weber arrived at the far-back reaches of the refuge. The
flat was dotted with a series of holding corrals, most of which hadn't
been used in years.  One currently confined several of his patients,
however.

Alighting from his pickup, he fetched his bag and a bucket of
bribery--sweetened grain mash--which was an effective way of getting
the wild horses to come close so that he could check them out.  He
hobbled into the occupied corral.

A strange sad sound moaned through the sharp tortured buttes lining the
flat.  Gave some people the willies, he knew, but the soughing wind was
music to his ears.

So was the excited nickering of the mustangs.  Recovering from a virus
that had spread through the small band like wildfire, the seven mares
quarantined from the rest of the herd crowded around him, ready to let
him inspect them in exchange for the treat.  Few humans could ever get
so close.  It took a special touch to tame the wildness in the heart of
any beast, especially ones who'd already been betrayed by man.

After latching the gate, Oscar dipped his arthritic hand into the
bucket again and again, thrilled as always by the soft noses that
pressed his flesh for the sweet.  One of the mares bumped him
aggressively.

"Hey, Sage, don't be a pig."  He moved the bucket slightly so the
greedy mare couldn't stick her head inside as she was trying to do.
"Leave some for the others," he ordered irma gruff voice.

A grulla, her dark gray coat accentuated by an extraordinarily long
ragged black mane and tail, Sage was the dominant mare of the band. She
was also his favorite of the entire herd.  Though some would disagree,
Oscar thought she was the most beautiful horse he'd ever vetted.

Craftily taking advantage of his affection for her, Sage pushed at his
chest with her nose and lipped the buttons of his shirt.  Dark eyes
gleaming, she whickered softly.  What a flirt!  With a big sigh, Oscar
caved in and gave her another handful before getting down to
business.

At least the mares' temperatures seemed to be under control and theft
appetites had picked up.  Unfortunately a few of the little ladies
still coughed sporadically, making him wonder about another round of
antibiotics to suppress any secondary bacterial infection.  He was
still trying to figure out where that danged virus had come from,
considering the isolation of the herd.

Only one in a series of peculiar incidents that had plagued the refuge
over the past several weeks.

Late evening wrapped the high plateau with its sooty cloak, and sheet
lightning sizzled across the open indigo sky before he was done with
the band.  Sniffing the air, he registered the rain that would soon
fall.  He sure was running late.  Normally by now he'd be home eating
supper, looking forward to watching some television in the company of
Wrangler, not merely a faithful four-footed companion, but his best
buddy.

A howl resounded from the vicinity of the buttes.  Then an answer
echoed from some distance away.  Coyotes.  Though ranchers thought of
them as pests, Oscar was as fond of t?  e dog cousins as he was of all
God's creatures.

"See you tomorrow, ladies," he told the mares, easing out of the
infirmary corral.

That's when he heard the sound of a truck.  "What the heck?"

Frowning, he fumbled with the gate latch and hitched his bag and the
empty bucket into the back of his pickup.  High beams announced the
oncoming vehicle's approach on the rutted dirt road.  Staying on his
side of the pasture fence, Oscar limped into the open.  Behind him, the
mares whinnied shrilly, sending his neck hair into attention.

No one came this far back into the sanctuary except to mend fences or
check on the herd occasionally.  And certainly not after dark.

The agitated whinnying of other horses somewhere along the ravine to
the south drew his attention for a moment, long enough for the truck to
stop and the driver to alight.  Senses attuned to possible trouble, he
turned toward the person on the other side of the fence and squinted.
He could make out no more than a hazy silhouette between the truck's
high beams and the hot white broken lines of lightning in the distance.
"Who's there?"  he demanded.

In answer, a flashlight in the driver's hand flicked on, the ray
blinding him.

A bad feeling in his gut, Oscar shaded his eyes.  The mares he'd
treated complained loudly.  Unshod hooves met fence planking, as if the
mustangs were starting to panic.  He realized why when, out of the
dark, a horse and rider appeared and practically ran him down.  The
mount danced tightly around him.

"Shit, Doc, what're you doing here?"

Startled by the rider's identity, Oscar had trouble finding his voice.
"I--I guess I could ask you the same."

Bits and pieces of suspicions that had been growing over the past weeks
knitted together in a hurry.  His heart raced and his gut knotted.  His
arthritic joints screamed with tens iota The truth was crystallizing in
his still-sharp mind as brilliantly as the lightning flashing ever
nearer.

A very ugly truth.

One Oscar knew he would never tell.

Chapter One

Kate Farrell choked back tears that threatened as she watched the
coffin being lowered into the grave.  She felt as if a part of her were
being buried under the glaring South Dakota sun.  Sweat made her silk
blouse stick to her.  Frizzy strands of her bright red hair had slipped
from her ponytail and clung to her neck.  A horrid day all around.

"I still can't believe I'll never see Doc again," she murmured to her
parents and brother, who surrounded her with their support.

Oscar Weber had been like a second father to her.  He'd befriended her
when she was a pesky kid demanding he show her how to heal the injured
animals and birds she found.  When she'd decided to go to veterinary
school, he'd become her mentor.  After her marriage to Jake Nash had
ended, he'd offered her a partnership.  She had accepted, moving back
to Bitter Creek for his sake, as well as hers--vetting livestock was
too physically demanding for an aging man with arthritis.

The partnership had been a clever hoax, however, Doc using the lure so
he could retire within weeks of her return.  All along, he'd planned on
turning over his veterinary practice to her, no strings attached.  Kate
had agreed, figuring she'd find a way to pay him back for his
generosity.  And now she would never be able to do so.

Her mother slipped an arm around her back.  Though smaller than Kate
both in height and build,

she was solid and steady and comforting as always.  "We're never
prepared for death, Kathleen."

"But, Mom, it's not like Doc was sick."

"People can up and die at any time without doing the things they meant
to."  Her green eyes filled with tears and her soft lilt became more
pronounced.  "You cannot be making up for things left undone...
unsaid... once you' re gone."

"You've nothing to make up for, Rose," Kate's father insisted
gruffly.

"It's been thirty-five years, Charlie."

Kate didn't miss the sadness that swept through her mother.  A sadness
beyond saying goodbye to an old friend.  She met the amber gaze of her
younger brother--Neil was a carbon copy of their father, from his
whipcord build and solid good looks to his too-serious approach to
life.  A man who normally had control of any situation, he now looked
as helpless as she felt.

"Too bad Quin's not here," he whispered.

Struck with wanderlust, their younger brother Quinlan was off seeking
whatever lay over the next horizon.

"He always knows how to cheer More up," she agreed, feeling a little
lost herself.

The minister said a final prayer over the grave, the mourners standing
with bowed heads, holding hands, wiping away tears.

Not Kate, though, despite her stinging eyes.  Unwilling to let anyone
see her cry, she distracted herself by thinking about her mother's
emotional state.  The poor woman was homesick for her native Ireland
and the McKenna clan she'd turned her back on more than three decades
before.

She was thinking about encouraging Mom to follow her heart and cclntact
her siblings, when a late arrival made her mind blank.

A man she hadn't seen in nearly two decades.  Dressed in black jeans
and a polished-cotton shirt buttoned to the throat, he stood behind the
crowd, enough apart from the good citizens of Bitter Creek to be
noticeable.  A loner, more comfortable with animals than with people.
Always had been.  And he had reason to stay away from some of those
present, she admitted.

Though his dark eyes were hidden by his hat's wide brim, Kate could
feel them fixed on her.  The skin on her neck crawled.  She tried to
ignore the sensation that quickly overcame her, but she couldn't.

Her world suddenly narrowed to a tunnel with her at one end, Chase
Brody at the other.

Two decades felt like yesterday.

He was taller, topping six feet.  More muscular.  More male.

Two decades and he still made her pulse thrum .  "Kate?"

Neil was frowning at her.  "It's time."

Flushing, she forced her mind from past to present.  This was a
funeral, not a reunion.  She approached the grave and picked up a clot
of earth.

"Bye, Doc."  She forced the words past the lump in her throat.  "I'll
never forget you."

Eyes stinging more fiercely than before, she flung her handful of soil
atOP the coffin, though with great difficulty keeping her tears to
herself.  They could wait until later, when she could mourn alone.

Only after she'd had a chance to join Ellen Weber, Doc's daughter, a
lab technician who lived in Rapid City, after she herself had accepted
the condolences of the myriad people who respected her special
relationship to the deceased, did she remember Chase Brody.

She looked around for him, wondering if he would make a point of
speaking to her.

But he was gone.  He'd slipped away unnoticed.  Just as he had the last
time.

AFFER LEAVING the cemetery, the mourners crowded into Doc's rambling
old house and filled the dining-room table with casseroles, fried
chicken, salads, jelly molds and homemade cakes and pies until the old
wood groaned under the weight.  Kate had no appetite, but she forced
herself to eat a few bites.

When she set down her half-empty plate, Doc's daughter took her aside
and suggested she might like to move into the house, at least
temporarily, so that the place wouldn't sit empty until she, Ellen,
could see to her father's effects.  Ellen had to get back to her job in
Rapid City as soon as possible.

A whole house, instead of the two rooms behind the practice?

A chance to feel close to Doc a while longer.  Kate accepted the offer
and volunteered to help go through Doc's things.

Afterward, wandering through the study alone, Kate considered the
shelves loaded with books, the walls between crowded with photographs
of animals

Doc had cared for, and every available surface stacked with
literature--some of which featured the places he always meant to visit
after he retired but never had.

Kate noticed the silly-looking patchwork mutt who lay in a corner like
a Sad Sack, bushy tail curled under his body, long nose on his paws.
He'd been sick and starving when Doc had found him.  He was mourning,
too.

Moving closer to the dog, Kate crouched to give him a quick scratch
behind the ears.  "Hey, boy, you and me are going to be roomies.  What
do you think of that?"

Wrangler merely gave her a melancholy expression and whistled softly
through his nose.

Kate straightened, her gaze alighting on the nearest framed
photograph--wild horses on the Bitter Creek Mustang Refuge.  The
sanctuary founded and run by Chase Brody.  The place where Doc had died
in a stampede.

She could hardly give the incident credence, not after everything Doc
had told her about the way he'd gotten the mustangs to accept him in
the few short months he'd been working with them.  But the facts were
irrefutable.  Something had spooked the recuperating horses--the
sheriff had blamed that crazy storm--and they'd broken out of their
corral. His at-th rifts hadn't allowed Doc to move very fast.  He'd
probably fallen and had landed right in their path.  Nobody's fault.

So why keep questioning the circumstances?  "The place could use you
with Doc gone."

Kate whirled to face Nathan Lantero.  He was nearly six feet tall now,
his medium build tight with muscle.

A striking if not handsome man with long black hair, black eyes and a
straight blade of a nose.

"Do you ever not sneak up on a person?"

"Only when I'm trying to do the unexpected."  She rolled her eyes at
Nathan's sly humor.  More Lakota than white, having lived on the
reservation much of his life, he made light of his heritage when it
suited him.

"You're not sucking me into this one."

"No guts, huh?"

"I learned my lesson.  I can't win with you."

"Your trying was always interesting."

That was one way of looking at it, Kate thought.  Nathan's father,
Delbert, had worked for the Farrell Ranch until his death a few years
back.  Nathan, whenever the mood had struck him, would sneak off the
reservation, even skipping school, to hang out at the ranch.  He'd been
jealous of her.  Competing for Delbert's attention, they'd been at each
other's throats from the first.  Kate had often gotten into both verbal
and physical scraps with the boy, who was older if not bigger.  And
he'd always had a way of winning.

Too aware of their uneasy adult truce, she said, "That was ages ago."

"So was Brody."  Nathan lifted a dark brow and waited for a response he
didn't get.  Finally he asked; "So what about it?  You gonna take over
where Doc left off?"

She knew Chase Brody was currently working at the refuge, as were a few
other people she knew who'd attended the funeral.

"I'm sure he can hire some other vet."

"Not without money."

She started.  "What about the BLM?"

Doc had told her the haven had come into being only with the backing of
the Bureau of Land Management, the government agency responsible for
wild horses.

"Their funding ended a coupla years ago now, as agreed.  The place
would be closed down if not for the volunteers.  Only a few of us draw
a paycheck--me and Merle and Buck.  Brody stinks at fund-raising.  He's
a long way from making that place independent like he figured he
could."

"Like that should matter to me," she muttered.

Nathan's penetrating black eyes held understanding.  "The horses
matter.  They need you."

Guilt wormed its way into her resolve, but she tried to ignore the
unwelcome sentiment.  Doc had told her about the money crunch and about
Chase's plans to renovate some log structures on the property so he
could rent rooms to vacationers.

"When you finish working on those old buildings, there'll be enough
cash from tourists to pay a vet."

"Don't see it, not with the way things have been going lately. Besides,
tourists won't be staying on the property till next spring. What about
now?"

"Did Chase put you up to this?"

Nathan shook his head.  "Hasn't mentioned you since you got back."

No big surprise, though she'd been living in Bitter Creek for several
months now.  In all that time, she hadn't run into Chase once.  Not
that she'd asked, Doc had told her he didn't come into town unless he
had to.  Remembering how badly he'd been treated by the townspeople as
a kid, Kate guessed she didn't blame him.

Only.  why had he returned?

Not wanting to be pressed any further, she said, "Look, I'll give the
suggestion some thought.  Just don't go making any promises to
anyone."

Nathan's full lips shifted into a grimace resembling a smile.  "Don't
worry, I won't say a thing to Brody."

With that, he left her alone.

EXHAUSTED BY THE TIME she entered the paneled room that served as her
living quarters--a single bed was crammed in a much smaller space that
must have been meant as a supply closet--Kate was tempted to crash. The
click-click of Wrangler's nails on the linoleum behind her was a
reminder that she couldn't only think of herself.

"Hungry?"  she asked the dog.

Legs spread, tail drooping, Wrangler focused his sorrowful gaze on her.
She pulled out two plastic bowls and filled one with water.

"C'mon, you must be thirsty."

She patted the dog or the side when he came for the water.  Then she
left the room and entered the combination surgery and infirmary where
she kept food for the occasional stay-over patient.  But Wrangler
merely sniffed at the bowl of chow she put out for him and walked away,
groaning and collapsing at the base of the couch.

Kate joined him on the floor, sitting cross-legged.  She smooched the
air and patted her thigh.  "I could use someone to hug."

Wrangler crawled into her lap.  Arms wrapped around his compact body,
she pressed her cheek to his fuzzy forehead.  He whimpered.

"That's all right.  You cry if you want to," she urged the dog,
uncensored tears gathering in her own eyes.  "Nobody here to laugh at
you."

Remembering one of the things Chase had liked about her--that she'd
been a girl who didn't cry--made her feel worse.

Whistling through his nose, Wrangler freed his head enough to lick the
salty tears from her cheeks.  Kate closed her eyes and ran her hands
along the dog's face.  She concentrated on the animal.  touching.
focusing.  sensing his grief for his master.

As she'd been able to do ever since she could remember, she became one
with the animal, his emotions merging with hers.

A hazy and somewhat distorted image formed in her mind.

Do, paunchy and balding, bending over with arthritic hands
outstretched.  He was mouthing words she couldn't hear, but she could
feel the love in his heart for the dog whose life he'd saved.

Suddenly she was in Doc's face, making him laugh.  He was happy.
Opening her eyes, allowing tears to stream down both cheeks, Kate
remembered how deeply Doc had felt about all animals.  How much caring
for the wild horses had meant to him in the last months of his life.
She could spare some time here and there.  The question was.  did she
want to?

Doc would expect it of her, at least until some other arrangements
could be made.  Not that he'd ever prodded her to step foot on the
sanctuary.  He knew what had gone down between her and Chase and
respected her feelings.

She might have avoided the reality of Bitter Creek Mustang Refuge since
returning home, but she hadn't managed to avoid thinking about the man
who ran it.  Chase Brody had invaded her thoughts plenty over the
months, and now that she'd seen him, had felt the old spark, she sensed
it would be in her best interests to stay away.

But she could imagine how saddened Doc would be if anything terrible
happened to what he'd thought of as his wild horses because they were
deprived of proper medical care.  And she owed him, had always meant to
pay him back, if not in money.  Certain he was watching over his old
domain from his place above, she was torn.  How could she deny someone
who'd done so much for her?

That Chase could make her consider disappointing Doc angered her.

So much so, Kate knew she had to at least check out the refuge before
deciding.

All pounds SAIN stepped out of the refuge office onto the screened
porch, a teenage couple in tow.  "Head for that truck down the hill,"
she said, pointing.  "Buck's due to take off with the next tour in
about three minutes."

Watching from the table, Chase felt his late breakfast lump in his
stomach.  Not that Annie's cooking wasn't a hell of a lot better than
his own.

But nerves chewed at him, and a growing uncertainty about the fate of
the place that had become his life had him tied in knots.  And he
couldn't help but notice that nearly half of the secondhand theater
seats lining both sides of the old pickup remained empty--and this
during the height of the tourist season.

"Thanks, miss," the young woman was saying.  She was practically doing
a tap dance in her excitement.  "C'mon, Jimmy, or we'll be too late.
Wild mustangs!  Yet-hah!"

She threw open the screen door and ran outside, Jimmy close behind.

Blue eyes lit width laughter, Annie spun toward Chase, her straight
chin-length black hair sweeping her broad cheeks.  "Such enthusiasm
makes everything we do worthwhile, dOeSn't it?"

He sucked on another mug of strong black coffee despite the growing
heat of the day.  "The horses are what's important."

She gave him a reproving look.  "Anyone who loves them is important,
too."

"Especially anyone who loves them as much as you do," he said
agreeably.

This was the third year in a row that Annie had volunteered her whole
summer vacation to run the office and deal with the tourists, the last
being a task Chase abhorred.  During the rest of the year, she was a
re-medial-reading teacher, working with some of Phoenix's roughest
high-school kids.  Of average height, slim and cursed with a baby
face--her words--she seemed a whole lot younger than her thirty-one
years--hardly the type Chase had figured for being able to handle gang
members.  But that was 'before he got to know her.

Annie Sabin was strong-willed, tireless, and had a way of getting
people to do what she wanted.

Downhill, a good-natured "All aboard?  caught his attention.  Buck
Duran was rushing toward the truck,

his limp becoming more pronounced the faster he went.

Shame stealing through him, Chase quickly shifted his gaze back to
Annie.  "Buck's not going out with a full load.  How far down is our
count?"

"Actually the numbers are up overall.  First thing this morning, we had
so many people show I had to add two extra tours.  I took one of them
out myself.  It seems the news of Doc's death has been a boon to bus'
mess Annie dropped into a seat opposite him and poured herself a mug of
coffee from the insulated carafe.  Her eyes gleamed suspiciously when
she added, " Crummy that something so rotten had to happen to make
business pick up.  "

"Sensation seekers.  Tbey probably hope the tour will take them to the
spot where Doc packed it in."

"Maybe we should figure out how to take advantage of the situation,
though," Annie said, even if she sounded reluctant.  "If we put our
heads together, I'll bet we can come up with some ideas."

Chase hated having to open the refuge to nosy tourists at all, but he
knew they were an economic fact of life if he was going to keep the
place running.

"We could talk about it over dinner," Annie suggested.

Chase knew Annie hated to eat alone.  Her being stuck in the middle of
nowhere with no friends for a whole summer had to be hard for her.  And
she was trying to be helpful as she'd been through all the recent
difficulties.  Still, taking advantage of anyone's death was repugnant
to him.

"I don't know, Annie."

"Consider the horses.  Remember how important they were to Doc," she
said, touching his hand.  Her eyes were filled with compassion when she
said, "I'll bet he would approve of turning a tragedy in our favor."

Chase said, "Let me think about it," but he didn't figure he'd change
his mind.

"Great."  She grinned.  "I'll run into town for some steaks."

Not wanting to dwell on his circumstances, Chase rose.  "I've dawdled
long enough."  Though in reality, he'd spent time reading the outline
on applying for a new grant before leaving his cabin earlier.  "I'm
going out to work the perimeter fence in the far north pasture with
Merle."

"In this heat?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Especially since they had to repair fencing that had collapsed.  He
didn't know when it had happened.  Merle had spotted the downed posts
only late yesterday, but considering they only checked the far
sanctuary fence when moving the herd to fresh pasture, the problem
could be weeks old.  An opening that size would be an invitation for a
number of the mustangs to wander off the property--if they hadn't
already done so.

Someone would have to check the herd as soon as the repair was
finished.  Several someones, "including himself, if he wanted the count
done efficiently and accurately.

But first, the fence.

Hoping the physical effort would blunt his frustrations at trying to
make a go of the place, he left the porch, rounding the corner to get
to the water spigot on the side of the building.  There he filled a
large thermos, grabbed another of coffee that Annie left on the stoop
for him and jumped into his Bronco.  He took off down a side road,
closed to tourists, that cut across the property.

Chase paid no mind to the ruts jolting him, nor to the dry dust
swirling around and into the open vehicle.  Used to the discomfort of
ranch life, he sped toward the red cliffs on the other side of Bitter
Creek, slowing only to ford4 he ribbon of water that was barely a few
yards wide and little more than a foot deep at this crossing.  A
good-sized carp did a back-flip in the air away from the vehicle.

Soon he was winding around hills, traversing a canyon, continuously
achieving higher elevation until he was atop the undulating plateau. To
the east, a band of mares grazed on black root grass.  Ears twitching
at the sound of the approaching vehicle, they lifted their heavy heads
and stared, then seeing his truck--a familiar sight--one by one they
resumed munching.

He took a deep breath and felt some of his muscles un knot They were
what it was all about.  Taking responsibility for the tough lit He
fetal horses no one else wanted gave his life meaning.

When the animals had first arrived on the refuge, they'd been scrawny,
ribs poking at their hides.  Worse, they'd been despondent, having
spent months or years crowded into feedlots.  Seeing their sides filled
out with flesh, knowing they were healthy and comparatively content if
not as free as they once were, gave worth to his daily struggle.

This good health was due in part to Oscar Weber's generosity in
donating his services.  Poor Doc.  Chase's mind wandered back to the
funeral.  Kate Farrell.

t'atrtcta l(osemoor

He remembered how Kate had stared at him--al-most as if she'd never
gotten over him.  Ridiculous, considering how long it had been.

Old guilt washed through him.  And something else.  Something more
immediate.

Despite the familiar ponytail--her near-futile attempt to confine that
wild red mane of hers--and the freckles nearly hidden by her tan, Kate
was all grown-up.  And she'd developed into quite a woman, he thought,
voluptuous curves softening her athletic build, wide mouth and full
lips equally feminine.  A mouth he'd once kissed.

And, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't put Kate's dazzling green
eyes from his mind.  For a moment he'd felt lost in them.  Their
intensity.  Their depth.  The memories they stirred in him.

Determined, Chase forced his mind away from the woman he couldn't
have.

Overhead, soaring on an air current, a hawk wheeled with its wings
spread wide.  The Bronco picked up speed.

A few minutes later he spotted Merle Zwick, the hired hand who was as
adept with horses as she was with fencing or plumbing or replacing
glass in a broken window.  Hard work had added muscle to her tall and
wiry frame, encased in ripped jeans and a sweat-soaked T-shirt.

As she set a post in a newly dug hole, she yelled, "Hey, boss, you
finally rolled outta your bunk!"

Removing her Stetson, her hand protected by a heavy leather work glove,
she wiped the back of a deeply tanned bare arm across her forehead.
Strands of light brown hair that had escaped her long braid glued
themselves to her damp face.

He cut the engine and jumped out' of the Bronco,

then fetched the thermos of water.  "Thirsty?"  "That filled with
beer?"

Merle knew he never took a drink anymore.  He kept the joke going.
"Sure is.  Cold and foamy."

"Mm-mm.  Let me at it."  Slapping her hat back on her head, she freed
him of the heavy thermos.  "I ran out a while ago."  she lifted the
spout to her mouth, guzzled some water and smacked her lips.  "Never
tasted better."

He noted that she'd staked the locations for the new posts along the
entire length of downed fence--nearly fifty feet worth-- but.  had only
managed to drill a few of the holes so far.  Not' having been on site
to see the damage before this, Chase crouched and inspected part of the
old wood, which was rotted in places.

He couldn't tell what had spelled the fencing's death knell, though he
figured the wind could be capricious enough to do the job.  So could a
herd of frenzied mustangs--Doc's death was uppermost in his
mind--though he saw no sign of it.  The recent rains had done a good
job of obliterating whatever clues the earth might have held.  Still,
fencing didn't go down easy--not this much of it--not before anyone
could notice,

even if they didn't patrol the north border regularly.  Weird.

Too many weird things going on lately, not the least of which was Doc's
death.

Shaking away the edgy feeling that not knowing for sure gave him, he
rose.  "How's it going?"

"It'll go a lot faster now that the real expert at digging post holes
is here," she said, her flippant remark setting off a memory that could
still make him cringe.

Her quirking eyebrows and flirtatious smile were automatic.  Despite
the bits of the old nightmare flashing through his mind, Chase gave way
and grinned.

Razzing a man--any man--was just Merle's way.  Always had been.  A
handsome more than a pretty woman, she'd nonetheless never lacked for
male attention because of her boldness, though he also knew that men
used her rather than taking her seriously as she deserved.  He had to
watch himself, make sure he didn't get too close.

As for the post-hole digger, he couldn't avoid it.

"You get behind the wheel of the tractor, and I'll deal with the
shaft."

He never let anyone else near the hydraulic power shaft when he was on
the job.  How dangerous the equipment could be was a memory too vivid
for him to forget.

"You're the boss.  Nothing like watching a big strong man working with
heavy machinery."

"Show time," he muttered, getting started.

For the next couple of hours, they worked together efficiently, their
rapport almost surprisingly easy.

Merle was one of the few residents of Bitter Creek Chase felt
comfortable being around, maybe because she'd come from a background
similar to his own.  She, too, had been "trailer trash" to the town's
finer citizens.  She'd been without a father, and her mother had had
the reputation of being a "loose" woman.

"Hey, boss, did you hear the one about the hooker with the heart of
gold?"  Merle yelled over the noisy machinery.  "She used the Wall
Street Journal to set her prices."

Chase groaned, though he enjoyed Merle's occasional spicy jokes because
they kept him amused despite the drudgery of the work.  ConCentrating
on the job, he suddenly realized Merle was yelling at him.

Chase yelled back, "What?"  and turned to see what she wanted.

Only to faCe his past up close and personal.

Kate Farrell had been an incorrigible kid.  Now, in faded jeans, red
cowboy boots and turquoise shirt, her unruly red hair haloing her
striking features and a dogged expression aimed directly at him, she
appeared wilder than ever.

Untamed as the mustangs on this raw land.

As a teenager, he hadn't properly appreciated her potential, but as a
man.  Merle cut the power to the tractor.  For a moment the stillness
made his ears hurt.

And then Kate's lips parted, mesmerizing him.  "Chase.  It's been a
long time."

Gut tightening at the sound of her voice, the melodic tone tempered
with deserved sarcasm, he forced out the only return he could manage.

"What the hell do you think you're doing out here?"

Chapter Two

Kate started as if Chase had slapped her.  Though she'd been unsure of
the kind of reception she was in for, she certainly hadn't expected
this.  Then again, Chase had always been rude when he'd felt cornered,
and from his wary expression now, Kate realized she somehow had the
upper hand.

"The woman in the office told me where you'd be of course," she said
sweetly.

"Didn't Annie mention that the back road is off-limits to tourists?"

"I'm not a tourist, Chase.  I'm an experienced veterinarian," she told
him as if he didn't have a clue.  Knowing Doe, he'd probably bragged
about her every chance he got.  "I was thinking of helping out until
you find someone to take over for Doe, but if you're not interested, I
certainly don't want to waste your time."  '

She spun toward her pickup, ponytail swinging, but was stopped cold in
midstride when Chase hooked onto her arm.  Giving his gloved hand a
filthy look, she maintained that expression when she lifted her eyes to
meet his.  He immediately let go, raised both hands and backed off.

"Let me get this straight," he said.  "You're volunteering your
services."

"If I like what I see."  She deliberately flicked her gaze over him.

That Chase was grimy and sweaty didn't detract from his appeal.  His
damp work shirt clung to his torso, clearly defining the musculature
developed by hard work.  His jawline was hard, too, even more so than
it had been when he'd been younger, a mere promise of the man he'd
turned out to be.  Natural interest curled through her, tough to
ignore.

But she certainly tried, saying, "I wouldn't want to get involved in
any.  thing... unsavory."

Kate swore Chase flushed under his dark tan, and if she hadn't been' so
angry with him, she might have felt guilty at the purposeful dig.

Twenty years ago she'd been warned about Chase Brody's unsavory
reputation--one mostly inherited from his father, Vernon, rather than
self-earned.  And yet he'd made a point of telling her about it
himself, as if he'd been trying to scare her off.  Not that she'd ever
paid any mind to ugly gossip.  That most of the upstanding residents of
Bitter Creek had considered the Brodys trailer trash didn't mean spit
to a young girl with a mind of her own.  Even then, she'd formed her
own judgments about people.

Though, more often than not, Chase had been as truculent with her as he
had been with anyone else, she'd liked him.  She'd trusted him.  Worse,
she'd fallen in love with him.

Sheer lunacy.

But that was the past.  She knew him now.  No chance she'd be fooled
again.

Realizing they had the full attention of the woman on the tractor, Kate
forced a smile.  "Hey, Merle."  Though Merle had a couple of years on
her and had hung out with a different crowd growing up, they were
acquainted.

The other woman's gaze narrowed.  "Kate."

She glanced at the downed fence.  The refuge must really be shorthande4
if repairs were let go for so long.

"Looks like you have quite a job for yourself."  "I'm not
complaining."

Before Kate could offer some pleasantry to lighten the atmosphere,
Chase interrupted.  "I thought you wanted a look around."

"That's what I'm here for."

Pulling off his work gloves, he glanced up at the tractor.  "Don't kill
yourself trying to get this in today, Merle.  Do what you can and stop
when you need to.  We'll get back to it first thing in the morning."

Mede's grudging "Right, boss" gave Kate the opposite notion.

Because Merle didn't want to work alone?  Or because she objected to
Kate's presence on the refuge?

Kate and Chase drove their own vehicles back toward the visitors'
center, but after crossing the creek, Chase turned west, leading her to
a spot about a mile down the road where the creek curved and widened,
and a couple of picnic tables and a gas grill sat beneath some leafy
cottonwoods.  He brought his truck to a stop and hopped out.

She did likewise, asking, "What is this place?"

"Annie brings tourists out here a couple of times a week for an
overpriced grilled steak."  He opened his tailgate.  "Be right with
you."

Kate sat at a picnic table and stared off at the red cliffs on the
opposite side of the creek, automatically searching for horses.  But
the only movement that caught her eye was a dust cloud to the west. She
squinted against the sun.  The billowing copper-tinted haze proved to
be made by an approaching truck loaded with touristS.  The clunky old
vehicle passed out of sight, continuing in the direction of the
visitors' center.

Buck Duran had been behind the wheel.

Though Kate had known he was working for the refuge, she could hardly
believe he'd forgiven Chase for his brother Gil's death--or his own
handicap.  At the time, Buck had placed the blame for the accident
squarely on Chase's shoulders.  She guessed old wounds healed for some
people, if not for her.

"Here's mud in your eye."  Chase set a steaming mug of black coffee in
front of her, followed by several pamphlets.  "And information about
the refuge."

He wanted tier to read about the operation, rather than see it for
herself?  She took a sip of coffee and ignored the pamphletsr Wondering
why he was treating her like a stranger--an interloper--she said, "I
thought I was going to get the personal treatment."

He quirked an eyebrow.  "How personal do you want to make this?  :

Unwilling to play some silly word game, she said flatly, "As in a
tour."

"You lived in this country most of your life, so you know what it looks
like."

"But the mustangs"

"All pretty much like the ones we passed getting back here."  Cutting
her off, he claimed the bench opposite.  "So what's on your mind,
Kate?"

"I told you," she hedged, having a lot more on her mind than the
horses.  But it would be a cold day in hell before she related anything
personal.  "After the funeral Nathan said the Place could use my help.
I know Doc would have wanted me to take over for him until you could
hire someone."

Chase's laugh was humorless.  "You may be stuck here forever, then.  Or
for as long as we can stay in business.  We're only squeaking by now,"
he said, con tinning what Nathan had told her.  "I'm having enough
problems meeting the mortgage and payroll, such as it is.  I can't even
pay decent wages to the few people who aren't volunteers."

She couldn't help asking, "Does that include yourself?"

"I don't take a red cent" -- his attention strayed to a point beyond
her shoulder "--unless you count room and board."

Not having expected such generosity on his part, she wasn't quite
certain she believed it, either.  Involved in fund-raising for the
refuge, he surely had an expense account that paid for his other needs.
Otherwise, he'd have to be either crazy or the most selfless man she'd
ever met.

"So why do you do it?"  she asked, trying to keep an open mind.

"That's why."

Kate followed his line of sight to where a handful of mustangs loped
along the ridge.  Imagining she could hear the natural rhythms of their
unshod hooves beating against the earth.  their collective breaths
blowing and snorting against the breeze.  she was enveloped by a heady
and unfamiliar sensation.

"Tell me what exactly you want to know about the refuge," Chase was
saying.  "If you're really here to volunteer."

She whipped around to face him.  "Why else would I bother stepping foot
on this land?"

"I could think of, a reason or two."  He lifted his mug.

Meaning him ?

A flush crawled up her neck at the unwelcome truth she'd buried beneath
her rationalization.  "Don't flatter yourself.  I'm not a kid
anymore."

"I can see that."  :

He fixed his intense gaze on her mouth, making it go dry, making her
want to lick her lips in the worst way.  No doubt Chase would like
that--would get some perverse thrill out of knowing he could still get
to her on a primal levelmso Kate determined she'd let her lips crack
like dry desert earth before she'd give him the satisfaction of wetting
them.

"How big is the herd?"  she asked.

"That information's in the brochures."  He pushed them toward her.

And she continued to ignore them.  "Does that mean you don't know?"

"Nearly five hundred."

Her eyes widened.  Doc hadn't given her the specifics.  "That many?"

"Intimidated?"

"You should remember I don't intimidate easy."  Silent for a moment, he
seemed to be ruminating.  Then he said, "I remember a lot of things,"
so softly it made the hair on her arms stand up.

"Well, don't," she warned him.

They locked gazes.  Nearly twenty years, and she couldn't forget how
badly he'd let her down when he'd skipped out on her.  What did it
matter that she'd been little more than a kid?  She'd had a woman's
feelings for him.  He'd gone and gotten himself into big trouble, and
then he'd run without so much as a by-your-leave.  He'd taken thee
trust she'd given him and thrown it back in her face.

No letter.  No phone message.  Nothing.  That was what she hoped he
would recall.  Gratified when he was the first to glance away, his
expression uneasy, she figured he had remembered.  She was surprised at
his reaction.  Guilt?  She never would have suspected he was capable of
remorse.  He'd have to have a heart first.

Gazing out at the land, Chase said, "The refuge is eighteen thousand
acres plus of harsh territory.  Most of the herd is limited to the
other side of the creek.  Tourists occasionally get glimpses of a band
like we just did, but they never get near the truly wild horses."

She heard the satisfaction in his tone, as if it was important to him
that the mustangs stay as wild as possible.  "So people pay to maybe
see some horses from a distance?"

"They don't leave here disappointed.  That would be bad business,
wouldn't it," he said, the word business sounding like a dirty word. "I
make sure the tourists get their mustang fix.  We drive them out to the
closer pastures where we keep the adopted horses.  Nearly a hundred of
them now that we have yearlings and foals."

She knew about the breeding from Doc of course, but she hadn't
questioned him too closely lest he get the wrong idea about her
interest in the subject.  "I thought there were too many wild horses to
take care of already."

"A little policy change on my part.  The mares that were part of the
deal with the BLM have been barren for years and will stay that way,"
he clarified.  "They were part of a sterility experiment using
steroids.  And the males were delivered gelded.  But in addition, I've
personally bought mares from the Adopt-a-Horse program for more than a
dozen years--starting back when this place was only a twinkle in my
mind."

Mustangs continued to run free on federal land, Kate knew, and under
the protection of the Wild Free-Roaming Horse and Burro Act, their
numbers had become problem aft She'd heard about whole herds dying from
starvation or dehydration because of lack of vegetation or water.  To
keep their numbers in check, the federal government had initiated the
Adopt-a-Horse program.

According to Doc, although now only young horses were gathered, during
the first several years of the program, many of the animals culled from
the bigger herds had been too old, too sick or too ugly for anyone to
adopt.  They'd ended up in federal feedlots where they would remain
until they died.  A handful of individuals and organizations decided to
do something about the awful situation--to give the horses a better
life for whatever time they had left.

Doe had told her Chase was one of the handful.  He'd founded the
not-for-profit organization that was the official owner of Bitter
Creek.  Mustang Refuge, so that at least some of the unadoptables would
live out their remaining days in relative freedom.

Maybe Chase did have a heart, after all, she conceded.  And he probably
was crazy, too.  Hating that she had a reason to like him whether or
not she wanted to, she said, "So you've been breeding the mustangs you
yourself own."

"I brought in a prime stallion two years ago to service the girls," he
agreed.  "Hopefully the offspring'll bring in a few thousand
apiece--enough money to make so'he difference around here."

Which meant that, in addition to not taking a sab ary, he was willing
to kick in any money he could personally generate.

In an area where one could get a decent saddle horse for two or three
hundred dollars, a few thousand was way out of line, Kate knew.
Undoubtedly Chase was counting on the sentimental value of someone's
desire to own an American icon and thinking of the in-fiated price as
being a well-spent contribution to a romantic cause.

"So what do you say?"  he asked.

"About?"

"Vetting my horses."

H/s horses?  She supposed they were.

"I'll make some time.  Temporarily," she emphasized, not wanting him to
think she was at his disposal.  "You'll have to start looking for
someone permanent to replace Doe."

He shrugged.  "Right."

His too-casual response made her a little edgy.  She didn't want to
feel trapped in the situation.  If Chase wouldn't actively look for a
replacement, she could ask around herself.  Maybe she could find a
couple of vets willing to donate some of their time.  That way, the
whole burden wouldn't be on one person.

"So what do you need done first?"  she asked.  "You free tomorrow
afternoon?"

"I was going to move my things over to Doc's house--urn, I'll be
staying there until Ellen sells--but I guess there's no hurry."  Not
that she had a lot to move.  When she'd returned to Bitter Creek, she'd
left most of her possessions behind in Sioux Falls, as she had her
life.  "Besides, I can bring over a few things at a time."

"If you ask real nice, I'll help."

Kate eyed Chase warily, searching for motive.  But if he had one, he
was keeping it to himself.  Not that it mattered.  Being alone with him
in close quarters wouldn't be a smart, move, and she gave herself
credit for having a modicum of native intelligence.

"If I need you, I'll whistle," she returned.  And before he could get a
response out of his open mouth, she added, "About tomorrow?"

"We should be done with the fencing by noon.  Then we'll need to count
noses."

"You think some of the herd strayed?"

"No telling.  If you come along, you'll get your close-up tour of the
property, and we can locate the band of mares Doc was treating for that
virus."

"They're mixed in with the main herd?"  she asked, immediately
concerned.

"Afraid so.  Doc said they were well on their way to recovery, though,
so hopefully it's no problem.  Even so, you should check them out.  If
you can get close enough."

"I can."

"Awfully sure of yourself."

"If you'll remember, I never had trouble communicating with animals."

Fatnora Rosemoot'

"I thought that was a kid thing," he said, pulling a face, "like
invisible companions."

"And I thought you knew me better than that."  Besides, though she now
considered herself a kid when her heart had been broken, she'd actually
been fifteen--a little old for invisible companions, and he knew it. At
the time she'd thought he'd believed her.  Kate guessed he'd fooled her
about a lot of things.

"Oh, Lord, spa me."  He was shaking his head.  "Now I've got to deal
with a woman who talks to animals."

Tightly, she said, "And who listens when they talk back."

Though Chase lifted a questioning eyebrow, he said no more about the
issue.  He took a big swig of his coffee, which had to be cold by now.
And then he gave a start, his gaze narrowing on something in the
distance.  A scar above his right cheekbone whitened and the sound of
the mug clanking against the table half covered his vivid curse.

Wondering how he'd gotten the scar that just missed his eye, Kate
whirled around to see what was bothering him.  "What's wrong?"  she
asked, even while spotting the string of lathered horses in the
distance.

"Damn Whit Spivey!"  he muttered, jumping to his feet, his expression
furious.  "He ran them north of the creek again!  Went downstream this
time, probably thinking no one would ever know the difference."

"You're talking about a trail ride?"

He nodded curtly.  "Taking visitors where he shouldn't he and bothering
the horses so his customers'll have something to brag about to their
friends."  Moving away from the table, he added, "I suspect he
purposely spooks the mustangs into an all-out run."

rutrtcm o'rrtoor

And Chase was running off on her, Kate realized.  Again.  While she
stood staring after him like an idiot, he jogged toward his truck.

"Hey, wait a minute," she called after him, "are we through?" Obviously
they were since he didn't respond.  She yelled again, anyway. "What
time tomorrow afternoon and where do we meet?"

But she might as well be questioning herself.  Seeming to have
forgotten all about her, Chase was already getting into his Bronco and
starting the engine, his focus elsewhere.

Kate knew she shouldn't be surprised by his lack of manners.  He'd
never had any that she could remember.  At least not with her.
Irritation teetering on anger, she watched him tear off in a cloud of
dust.

Was it her, she Wondered, or was it a habit with him?  Maybe he never
said goodbye to anyone.

WHIT SPIVEY had barely dismounted when he spotted Chase Brody stalking
toward the riding concession from the visitors' center, a storm cloud
brewing over his brimmed hat.  Having seen the black Bronco coming in
nearly alongside his string, he knew what was what.

Not that he cared.  Defying Brody had been worth the risk.  His
customers had been thrilled out of their minds to get their own private
view of wild horses kicking up their hooves.  He spit out a chaw of
tobacco and raised his voice above their still-excited chatter.

"You folks whip them reins around the post a coupla times now, hear? We
don't want no one wandering off."  Then he signaled his assistant,
Teddy, a junior-high kid whose butt he worked off for less than minimum
wage, to take his own horse.  "Make sure them animals is cooled down"

"I know the drill, Mr.  Spivey," Teddy said, braces showing as he
grinned.

The kid led the horse off just as Brody skidded to a stop before him.
"Spivey, I want to talk to you."

Though the refuge manager's expression was as foul as he'd ever seen
it, Whit wasn't intimidated.

"Sure, chief."  Considering how much cold cash he had in his pocket at
the moment, he could afford to be affable.  "Step into my office."

He indicated the rickety lean-to outside the tack house, where he
signed up customers for trail rides.  Brody beat him there, then stood
fuming.  Whit took his time, dumping himself into his squeaky chair.

He tossed his hat onto a peg and smoothed down his thinning hair before
asking, "What can I do for you?"

"You can start by explaining what you were doing north of the creek!"

Feigning innocence, Whit shrugged his narrow shoulders.  "Just needed a
change of scenery so my horses don't fall asleep on me.  That was my
fifth ride out today."

The increased traffic was courtesy of the tragic stampede.  At least
Doc's death had been good for something.

"Look," Brody said, trying to sound reasonable; "you know the rules."

"Rules were meant to be broken."

"Not around here."  The refuge manager latched onto a post so hard his
knuckles turned white.  "I've told you before--stay on this side of the
creek."

"This side gets pretty tedious."  A few months ago, Whit wouldn't have
smart-mouthed the other man,

 Touch Me in the Dark but in his mind the balance of power had
shifted.  "And my customers would rather get sight of the mustangs."

"They can do that on a tour.  I'm warning you, don't cross me on
this."

"Or you'll what?"  Whit sucked on his rotting teeth, thinking that if
his luck held, he'd be able to afford himself a dentist.  "I won't work
for you, so you can't fire me.  I got myself a contract for the season
all legal like."

"One I don't have to renew."

"And lose the money I bring in for this godforsaken place?"  Let Brody
try to find someone else who owned a big string!  of horses and the
tack to go with them.  Fat chance.  "" You need the money I turn over
and we both know it.  "

Whit hated like hell giving thirty percent to the refuge when he didn't
even have free run of the site.  At least that was his rationalization
of why he'd taken to miscounting the numbers of riders whenever he
thought he could get away with it.  But that little bitch in the office
had caught him cheating a few weeks back, and she'd been keeping her
eye on him since.  Not that he'd stopped.  He'd merely learned to be
more careful.

"Look, Spivey, I'm concerned about the horses."

Whit felt like snorting.  "They survived a whole lot worse than being
ogled by a buncha strangers."

"You're right.  They've survived hell and I'm not letting them go back
and relive it."

"If my customers don't think they got their money's worth, they won't
come back--or tell their friends what a good time they had here."

Finally losing it, Brody shouted, "I don't give a damn !"

"No shit!  That's why you're runnin' this place into the ground."

Whit glared at the manager until.  a movement caught his eye.  Buck
Duran was hobbling in their direction from the office, his limp more
pronounced than usual, reminding Whit of what he'd learned about
Brody's past.  Who was he to play Mr.  High and Mighty?

"A man's gotta make a living.  At least those of us who ain't saints
like you!"

Brody's color deepened, and he looked as though he was going to get
physical.  Then he got control of himself and stalked off, passing Buck
as he said, "I can always find someone to take your place.  Remember
that."

Threats pissed him off.  Whit narrowed his gaze after the other man,
loathing the way he tied his guts in a knot.  Chase Brody's
baby-sitting a bunch of over-aged, broken-down horses didn't make him
noble.  Hell, that made him plain stupid, and he deserved whatever he
got.

"Hey, Whit."

He acknowledged the man who stopped just short of the lean-to.
"Buck."

"Annie was real busy, so she had me come down here and ask you to bring
today's cut up to the office as soon as possible.  She wants to make
the deposit tonight"

Bull!  Miss Goody-Two-Shoes was keeping an extra-close eye on him.
"Probably needs every penny to balance the bank account," he said,
barely able to hide his rancor.

"Yeah, the refuge is in trouble, all right."

Whit rose.  "Man, it'sqzen a long day."  His customers had all drifted
away and the kid was hard at work taking care of the horses.  "Teddy!"
he yelled to get the boy's attention.  "Can You finish up yourself?"

Teddy said, "Sure, Mr.  Spivey, I don't mind," just as Whit figured he
wOUld.  Kid was horse crazy or he wouldn't break his back for
peanuts.

To Buck he said, "Come on, I'll walk with you."  He grabbed his hat and
jammed it on his head as he went.

Buck shuffled fast to keep up with him.  "So, is Chase on your case
about something?"  he asked, a 1oopy smile decorating his boyish
face.

"He wants to tell me how to run my business.  Don't really bother me
none," Whit lied.  "I reckon I'll head for town and a coupla cold beers
after I stop by the office."  An intriguing thought occurred to him.
"You interested?"

"Sure, why not?  Eating that dust all day works up a man's thirst."
Knowing that the refuge manager was responsible for Buck's being a
cripple, as well as his brother's death, Whit figured it would be
unnatural if, underneath that big grin, Buck didn't hate Brody, too.
Maybe it was time to find out how much.

An ally could be useful.

KATE'S ARMS WERE FULL as she entered Doc's house, Wrangler crowding her
legs.

"Hey, watch that, you rotten mutt!"  she said good-naturedly, setting
the big box of personal items on the coffee table.

Wrangler sat and whistled through his nose, but he'd lost some of his
sad air, as though he understood she would try to fill some of the void
Doc had left.

She sat cross-legged on the floor and patted the area next to her.  The
dog rushed to her side, sticking his cold nose in her face.  Kate
laughed and Wrangler tried to lick her lips.

Pulling back, she complained, "Ooh, not dog kisses!"

The mutt merely became more determined to give her some affection and
stepped all over her.  Kate hugged him and ruffled his fur.

"Want to help me check out what's in this box?"  she asked.  "Of course
you do.  Sit."

With a little physical maneuvering, she managed to convince him to sit
next to her.  Then she removed the lid from the box.  The top item was
an old scrapbook she'd started in high school.  She turned back the
cover and several pages of photographs of her family and schoolmates.

"Do you recognize him?"  she asked Wrangler, pointing to a picture of
Doc and a scrawny stray cat whose broken leg he'd set.

But the glossy held little interest for the dog.  Apparently
appreciative of her company, however, he remained at her side, watching
her page through her youth.  The scrapbook held many memories,
including ones she'd rather forget, Kate thought, pausing at a photo of
her with Chase.  Her feelings for him had been plain enough to see. She
wondered if he'd ever looked at her close enough to recognize them.

Not wanting to dwell on her unresolved anger, she continued poring
through the scrapbook, keeping Wrangler's attention with a running
dialogue that he seemed to understand.  When she came to the
photographs of her and Jake and his family, however, she fell silent.
Their marriage ending so quickly had left her with still-unresolved
questions.

She hadn't added anything to the scrapbook since--except for the letter
from her Irish grandmother, Moira McKenna.  Unfolding the thick
cream-colored sheet of paper, she read the missive, which ironically,
she'd received on the eve of her divorce.

To my darling Kathleen,

I leave you my love and more.  Within thirty-three days after your
thirty-third birthday--enyough time to know what you are about--you
will have in your grasp a legacy of which your dreams are made.  Dreams
are not always tangible things, but more often are born in the heart. 
Act selflessly in another's behalf, and my legacy shall be yours.

Your loving grandmother,

Moira McKenna

P. S. Use any other inheritance from me wisely and only for good lest
you harm yourself or those you love.

Neil had received an identical copy, she knew--as had Quin, though Mom
had been obliged to mail his to wherever in the world he'd been at the
time.  Neil had speculated that Moira had sent the same letter to all
nine of her American and Irish grandchildren, but Kate had been of no
mind to discuss the matter at length.

While she'd appreciated the sincerity of Moira's bequest--the dying
woman had obviously wanted her grandchildren to be happy, after the way
each of her own children had blemished their personal lives with
prejudice and anger--Kate had realized she'd already blown her chance
at happiness.

"" Act selflessly in another's behalf, and my legacy shall be yours,""
she quoted to Wrangler, who tilted his head as if trying to
understand.

Even now, she wondered if she had been too selfish to be married. Maybe
she should have given up being a veterinarian and started having babies
as Jake had demanded of her.  Not that she didn't want kids. She was
well aware of her biological clock tick-tick-ticking away.  But she
hadn't seen that doing what she'd been born to do and having a family
were mutually exclusive.

And before they married neither had Jake.

What it came down to, she suspected, was that her husband had never
truly believed in her special ability to communicate with animals, but
had humored her while it suited him.  Just as Chase had.  In either
case, she shouldn't have been surprised.  People who couldn't relate to
something beyond their own reality had given her a lot of guff over the
years.  On the outside she'd remained unaffected by their laughter and
derision, but inside, she'd been hurt.

Her mother had told her she'd inherited her gift from her grandmother.
Kate had always wondered if

Moira had suffered for being different, too.

Her gaze strayed back to the letter.

"" Within thirty-three days after your thirty-third birthday.  ""
Ironic.  "I was thirty-three last week,"

she told the dog.  "Grandmother's timing was a bit off, wouldn't you
say?"

Wrangler's tail thumped in agreement.

No man in her life.  No man who even interested her.  As if to put a
lie to her thoughts, Chase came to mind.  But he'd left her once and
she had only hostile feelings toward him.  Mostly hostile feelings, she
amended, remembering the noment she'd first seen him at the cemetery.

No matter, she had to be the problem.  Something within her kept men
from accepting and loving her as she was.  Because she was different?
She'd had no luck with Chase.  No luck with marriage to Jake.  The
well-intentioned wishes of her grandmother were just that, at least in
her case, Kate decided sadly, refolding the letter and burying it in
the scrapbook.

"The McKenna Legacy is a pretty tale," she told the dog, snuggling with
him.  "But not for the likes of me."  '

Chapter Three

The next morning, Kate attended church with her family and came back to
the Farrell Ranch for a late breakfast a Sunday tradition.  She loved
the sprawling ranch house she'd grown up in, though she didn't feel she
belonged there anymore--one of the reasons she'd turned down her
parents when, upon her return to Bitter Creek, they'd suggested she
move in with them until she could find something more suitable than the
cramped quarters behind the practice.

The smell of coffee and eggs, sausage and potatoes led them straight to
the kitchen where the heavy, scarred wooden table was laden with enough
food for a bunkhouse full of starving cowboys.  The housekeeper had
outdone herself before leaving to spend the day with her own family.

They'd barely started passing platters of food when Neil announced,
"Skelly called last night."

Pouring herself a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, Kate
turned at the mention of their Chicago cousin.  She'd spent some time
with Skelly and his half-sister, Aileen, while attending a professional
conference in the big city.  And, of course, she caught his afternoon
television show, "The Whole Truth," every so often.

"There's nothing wrong, is there?"  she asked, hoping all was well with
their uncle Raymond, their mother's triplet brother whom they'd never
met.

"Skelly's getting married today to Rosalind Van Straaten, heiress to
Temptress."

Kate gaped.  "As in the hair-products-and-cosmetics company?"

"The same."

"And he didn't have the good taste to invite his own first cousins,"
her father said, handing a plate of sausages to Nell.  "Obviously
family means little to him.  Isn't that just like a McKenna."

"The wedding is very small, a last-minute thing," Nell explained.  "As
a matter of fact, it's a double ceremony.  Keelin" -- one of their
Irish cousins "--was visiting in Chicago when she met the love of her
life, a man named Tyler Leighton, and"

"Her father will be thrilled, I'm certain," Charlie interrupted in a
harsh voice.  "His Irish daughter marrying an American of all things,
and, if the name tells, a Protestant to boot."

"Charlie, perhaps James has mellowed," Rose said of her other triplet
who'd never left his native land.  "Leopards don't change their
spots."

Kate exchanged a knowing look with her brother.  They'd heard the
familiar argument for too many years.  Their father was unbending when
it came to his opinions about their mother's family.  Though he did
have good reason.

Rose's brothers, James and Raymond, had forbidden her to have anything
to do with Charlie Farrell, a Protestant visitor to their country. When
Rose hadn't complied, had insisted she meant to marry her beloved
Charlie despite their wishes, her brothers Warned her never to darken
the McKenna doorstep again.  In turn, Rose had wished for her brothers
the same unhappiness they wished for her.

Shortly afterward, Kate knew, James and Raymond's falling in love with
the same woman caused a further rift in the family.  Raymond won Faye
O'Reilly's heart and carried his new bride off to America, only to lose
her giving birth to Skelly.  And James married on the rebound, his
marriage suitable if not exactly a love match.  She'd gathered the
details from reading Mom's letters from her own mother, Moira.

"Anyhow," Nell went on, "Keelin and her groom will be driving west for
their honeymoon, and she wants to meet everyone."  He looked straight
at Kate when he said, "Especially you."

That surprised her.  "Why especially me?  What in the world did Skelly
tell her?"

"You'll have to ask her when they get here--possibly late Tuesday.
She'll call again when she's more certain of their arrival time."

Sticking his fork into a roasted potato, her father groused, "Well, I
hope they don't think they're staying on Farrell Ranch property."  He
glared at Nell, who had built his own home overlooking the creek
several years before, as if challenging his son to defy him.

Before Nell could say a thing, however, her mother returned, "Don't you
be making decisions for us, Charlie Farrell.  I'll be welcoming my
niece into this house, if you please--whether or not you're here!"

Kate went wide-eyed.  She'd never heard her mother speak to her father
so bluntly before, practically ordering him to accept her niece or
leave the house.  Her father's face suffused with color.

"A fine turn of events!"  he muttered, standing.  "Where's your
loyalty, Rose?"  He didn't wait for an answer, rather threw down his
napkin and stalked out of the room without ver having touched his
food.

The discord between her parents made Kate lose her appetite, too.
"Morn, Keelin and her husband could stay with me at Doc's place."

"I don't need you to play peacemaker, Kathleen."  Her mother's eyes
filled with tears.  "I'll be standing by my word, but thank you."

Neil said nothing, merely poked at his food aimlessly.  He'd always
hated arguments, too.

Kate tried to smooth over the tension in the room.  "So, Skelly is
getting married today."  Having been entertained with several of his
disastrous dating stories-neatly embellished, she was sure--she'd
wondered if he would ever get serious about any woman.  "I'm happy for
him."

"" Tis more than time if you're asking me," Rose said of the nephew
she'd never met.  The topic seemed to chase away her sadness, at least
for the moment.  " He and Keelin are both thirty-three--your age.  "

Kate recognized that tone of voice.  Dryly she reminded her, "I've been
married."

"I know the Catholic Church frowns on divorce, but people can make
mistakes and shouldn't be punished for them by being lonely for the
rest of their lives."

The family's having alternately attended both Catholic and Methodist
churches in respect to both parents' beliefs, Kate had never defined
herself as one or the other.  Religious tenet wasn't what made her
reluctant to think about a new relationship.  She was only hoping her
mother wasn't saying that she had made a mistake by defying her
brothers, because as she got older, Rose mourned her family's loss
aloud more and more.

But all Kate said was, "I'm too busy to notice my lack of a social
life."  '

"So I've heard."  Her mother's pretty face tightened in disapproval.

"Heard what?"

"About your going over to the refuge to volunteer yesterday.  You could
use your spare time to develop a personal life.  More than one
available man was looking your way in church this morning."

"When they should have been paying attention to someone far more
important than me."

Her mother took a deep breath.  "Don't get involved with him, Kathleen.
Please.  He broke your heart once"

"She's not going to get involved with Chase Brody again, Mom," Neil
interrupted.  "She's too smart to make the same mistake twice.  Right,
Kate?"

"Right," she said, even as Chase's dark image came clearly to mind.

She was grateful when her mother dropped the issue and began talking
about her bridge club.  A safe enough topic.  Unemotional.  And Kate
wouldn't have to say a thing about driving out to the refuge when she
left the ranch.

Half listening, having recognized the fact that Skelly and Keelin were
only a few weeks older than she was, Kate thought of Moira's letter.

Within thirty-three days after your thirty-third birthday--enough time
to know what you are about.  The McKenna Legacy at work?  A chill shot
through her.

With her inexplicable ability to communicate with animals, she knew
better than to disbelieve the sometimes mysterious workings of the
universe.  According to her mother, she'd inherited the touch from her
Irish grandmother.

But could Moira McKenna really reach from the grave.  to shape events
in the lives of her descendants?

Kate figured she didn't have long to find out.

"WHY ARE WE TAKING the truck, instead of horses?  ', Kate asked ChaS, a
few hours later as they sped aero the refuge, leaving a cloud of
reddish dust behind,

They would do a head count as they drove west to the far reaches of the
property--the area where Doc had been killed.  Nathan and a volunteer
were covering the eastern portion of the refuge, while Merle and a
second volunteer had been assigned the north pastures, where they'd
finished repairing fences that: morning.

"First of all," Chase began, "we'll get from point to point faster"

"Not if the mustangs hide in some narrow can,

you.  "

"Which would be more likely to happen if we ride out."

"I don't understand."

"How do you think these horses were gathered from federal land in the
first place?"  He shot a quick glance in her direction.  "Helicopters
spotted them and cowboys rounded them up into corrals.  They have a
definite aversion to anyone on horseback, as I know firsthand. Several
years ago, I hired some cowboys to move them from one pasture to
another.  The wild horses were panic-stricken.  I never tried that
again.  Vehicles don't seem to be nearly as threatening."

Chase drove while she hung on to the clipboard and made notes about
their infrequent sightings.  The herd had spread out in small bands of
a dozen or fewer horses.

Leaving her with plenty of time to make mental notes on Chase
himself.

Eyeing him surreptitiously, she started with his large rough hands,
long fingers comfortably curled around the steering wheel.  No sign
he'd ever worn a ring of any kind.  His sleeves were rolled to just
below-the elbows, exposing tanned forearms that hinted at his strength.
His loose chambray shirt barely camouflaged the upper arm and shoulder
muscles that flexed and tightened when he shifted into a lower gear.
She'd noted his hard jawline before and the faint scar above his
cheekbone that barely missed his eye and trailed into thick dark brown
hair.

Now, she also noted how bone-tired he appeared.  But was the exhaustion
stamped on his features the result of recent hard work and worry over
the refuge, or was it permanent, indicative of a hard life?

What had happened to him after he'd slid into the night like a coyote?
Kate wondered.

And knew she shouldn't want to know.  Chase wasn't important to her
anymore.  She'd gotten over him years ago.  Long before Jake.  That
damned letter-she shouldn't have read it last night.  All her thinking
about Moira's legacy since had had its effect on her.  No more, she
vowed.  She knew Chase Brody too well.

"Wild horses," he said, slowing to take another count.

Kate made some fast notes as they traveled along the flats, including
the lead marc's identification hum-be:r, a freeze mark across her left
hindquarter.  She vowed to keep her mind where it belonged--on the
horses.

At last Chase pulled the Bronco to a stop.  They both stepped out. From
nearby boulders of cinnabar and plumb, they peered down into a narrow
writhing ravine that had been gouged out by a spring-fed stream. A
handful of wild horses were grazing out in the open.  Chase used a pair
of binoculars to search out others camouflaged by the rocks and trees. 
He was able to pick out two bands, again by identifying the dominant
mares.  She guessed he'd been around the horses long enough to have
memorized their colors and markings.  Bays and sorrels, pintos and
paints, buckskins and duns--the herd held every conceivable
combination.

When they returned to the truck, Chase asked, "How many do we have so
far?"

Realizing he sounded troubled, Kate quickly totaled the figures.  "A
hundred and forty-three.  Is that very different from what you
expected?"

"" There should be more than two hundred horses in this division of the
property, and we're almost to the perimeter fence.  "

"But the herd moves around the refuge freely.  Couldn't a few bands
have relocated north or east?"

"Mother Nature made it practically impossible for them to pass from one
section of the refuge to an other.  I mean, they can manage it in a few
places, but not without difficulty.  Plus, we've added fencing to
further divide the land."

Surprised, she asked, "Why?"

"Wild horses aren't really wild, they're fetal.  Their ancestors were
domesticated animals set free to fend for themselves.  While they've
adapted, they don't roam like truly wild animals--wolves, for instance.
Horses pick a territory and stay put.  That means they eventually
deplete vegetation and can even foul their own water holes.  They're
powerful grazers and the grass needs some time to rebound.  So we
instigate a migration of sorts, moving horses from one pasture to
another.  And in late fall when the tourists have gone, we move the
whole herd to the other side of the creek for practical reasons. Easier
for me to check on them and supplement their feed in the snowy
months."

"You don't take care of the herd by yourself all winter, do you?"

"Pretty much.  The volunteers dry up and there's no money to pay hired
help unless it's an emergency."

Soon they were driving along a flat dotted with sizable corrals, many
of them in connecting configurations.

"This is the holding area where we originally brought the horses,"
Chase said, slowing the truck to a crawl.  "They'd been in feedlots so
long I couldn't see unloading' them off trucks and letting them run
free immediately.  Who knows how many of them would have hurt
themselves in their panic."

"So you started by acclimating them to the area."

"Right.  We'd leave a bunch in one corral.  Then, when the horses
seemed settled, we opened gates to the adjoining corral so they had
twice as much room to move around.  And then the next.  Eventually we
left the outside gates opened.  They were so used to being confined
that it took some of them days to work their way out."

Knowing that the infirmary was nearby, Kate looked around.  A chill
whipped through her even before she spotted the smashed planking.

Chase stopped the truck some distance from the torn-up rails.  "That's
where it happened," he said tightly.  Using the binoculars, he checked
out a nearby rocky area that led down to a ravine.  "Well, I'll be."

"What?"

"Looks like they hung around--Sage and her band."  He swung the Bronco
in the other direction and drove as far as he could, braking before an
incline strewn with rocks and boulders.  "We'll have to walk the rest
of the way."

Kate chose to leave her bag in the back of the truck so she wouldn't
have to carry the weight down the steep trail.  She could always go
back for it if neees-sary, but she was really hoping to find all the
horses fully recovered so she wouldn't have to worry whether or not
they'd made contact with any of the other bands.

Chase led the way, in one tough spot offering her a hand that she
politely refused.  He didn't say anything, merely quirked an eyebrow at
her before going on.

And when they neared the bottom of the ravine, the wild horses drew
closer to each other, ears twitching, noses blowing, flesh trembling,
appearing ready to bolt.  One horsejn particular--a grulla--da need
and

'amcta osemoor snorted her displeasure.  The others looked to her, as
if waiting for some predetermined signal.

"That's Sage," Chase told her, halting in his tracks.  Kate squeezed by
him.  The momentary intimacy felt a little claustrophobic, and her
throat tightened as she said, "Wait here while I get closer."

That he did what she asked without argument surprised Kate, but she
immediately turned her undivided attention to the grulla.  She gave the
horse a whistle, the few notes distinctive and pleasantly musical.

"Sage," she called softly, carefully inserting her hand into a large
vest pocket where she'd stuffed a big plastic bag filled with apple
chunks.  "Look what I brought you."

A half-dozen yards from the mare, she held out the sweet, but Sage
merely rolled her eyes, squealed and stepped back.  Kate stayed put,
but continued trying to seduce the mare with more whistles and offers
of the treat.

"Doc told me you liked apples.  Mmm, it's nice and juicy."

She continued to talk, mostly nonsense.  Words in themselves didn't
mean much to the horses, but her tone and actions did.  She whistled
again, made herself as nonthreatening as possible.  When she noted the
interest of a little black-and-white paint to her left, she took a few
cautious steps toward the patchwork-coated mare, her hand extended.

"Here you go, sweetheart.  C'mon."

The mare moved closer, lipped the apple from her palm, then backed
off.

Kate sneaked a look at Sage.  The grulla's attention was fixed on her.
Good.  She coaxed another mare with a second wedge.  Then a third.

And as she was able to step closer to the girls, she studied them.
Bright eyes.  Sufficient energy.  No coughs.  Seemingly healthy.  They
began crowding her, getting close enough so she could touch them.

Taking advantage of a level of communication that had always come
naturally to her--if one she couldn't explain--she chose a buckskin,
her gaze boring into the alert brown eyes.  She inched closer, ran both
hands up the mare's neck.  Flesh quivered under her palms, but the
animal didn't flinch.  Murmuring soothing words, Kate closed her eyes
and concentrated, reassured at her impression of well-being.

She connected with a second horse and, sensing the same, went on to the
others, now walking among them almost as if she were part of the band.
Her impression was of healthy horses struck by nothing more serious
than a little stress.

Except for Sage.  The leader of the band remained aloof, her nerves
seeming raw.  The flesh along her spine shuddered when a fly landed on
her rump.

"Hey, girl, I have a few more pieces of apple," Kate murmured, making
steady eye contact and stepping softly toward the animal.

Leaving a few yards between them, she held out her hand, determined to
stand quietly for as long as it took.  The mare eyed her, pranced a bit
and trumpeted a warning.  When Kate didn't back off, the mare rushed
her.  Though aware that any animal could be dangerous when it felt
threatened, Kate stood her ground.  She didn't so much as flinch when
Sage brushed her, the compact muscular body barely making enough
contact to be felt.

A thrill shooting through her, Kate turned square with the horse.

Sage vocally tried to spook her.  Kate returned with the
animal-pleasing whistled notes.  Seeming unsure of what to think, the
mare eyed her balefully and rushed her again--this time stopping
directly before her.  She snorted, her breath warming Kate's arm.  And
then she took the treat.  "Thatta girl.  See, I'm harmless."

Kate produced another wedge of apple and inched closer.  Sage stood her
ground for a moment, then dipped her head and took the second offering.
With the third treat, Kate was close enough to touch the horse.

Already clearing her mind of anything extraneous, she slid her free
hand forward even more carefully than she had with the others.  She
closed her eyes, concentrating on calming the animal, assuring her she
had nothing to fear.

But her fingertips grazing hide-covered flesh produced an explosion of
sound reverberating through her head.  horses running .  necks
lathered, eyes wild, tails straight out.  an inhuman scream.  the sky
forked with lightning.  her body being jostled from every direction.
Panic like none she'd ever experienced before rocking her, Kate severed
the connection and opened her eyes, reacting without thinking.

"What the hell!"

Sage squealed and threw up her head, then pivoted and took off, tail
arched.  She cut through her band,

her renewed fear spreading like wildfire.  The mares whirled around,
one after the other, all leaving Kate in a cloud of dust and feeling as
if she wanted to bolt, too.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Kate spun around, practically smacking into Chase.  He grabbed her
upper arms, steadying her.  His hands on her flesh seemed natural.
Familiar.  Unable to be angry that he'd gotten so close, she tried to
talk, to explain, but words seemed impossible against the pounding in
her ears.  Her heart was still beating far too fast, and Chase's
touching her only complicated things.  :;?

"What happened?"  he demanded.

Somehow she found her voice.  "I don't know.  I

saw.  "

"What?"

What had she seen?  "I'm not sure.  Sage was so frightened.
Hysterical."

Provoked, she suspected, by an unpleasant memory, more compelling and
vivid than anything she'd ever tapped into before.  She'd never been so
afraid.  "And you saw this?"

Chase's skeptical tone gave her a start.  She'd momentarily forgotten
that he'd never believed in her ability and had placed it in the same
category as a child having an invisible playmate.  Trying to explain
any thing to him would be useless.

Shaking off his hands, Kate regained outward control of herself.
Inwardly, she was still quaking from the disturbing experience.

"The important thing is that the horses are all right," she said in a
voice far calmer than she felt.

"Healthy, I mean."

Chase stared as though he could see right through her.  But if he
guessed she was holding back, he didn't press her.

Kate started up the incline, her mind whirling.  What had she seen? All
right, a memory.  A terrible one.  But of what?  Running horses. Why
should that be so frightening?  A vague notion made her queasy.

What if she'd seen a stampede?

CHASE CURSED HIMSELF as he hurried to catch up to Kate, who was
speeding up the hill like a rabbit with a coyote on its heels.
Something weird had happened to her, and his big mouth had stopped her
from telling him what.

He'd known she had a way with horses as she did with all animals, but
he didn't remember ever seeing anything like this.  Her power over the
mares had been mesmerizing.  She'd been mesmerizing, a thing of beauty
to watch--not her looks, which had matured from teenage cute to womanly
striking, but the very depth of her fearlessness and spirit.  He'd
caught himself holding his breath as she'd made physical contact with
one mare after the other, the wild horses crowding her as if they'd
accepted her as one of them.

But when Kate had touched Sage and had reacted as if she'd stuck her
hand into a fire, his gut had twisted and his chest had squeezed tight.
Acting on instinct, he'd immediately raced to her rescue.  Not that
she'd needed deliverance.  She hadn't been threatened with physical
hurt--the horses had bolted immediately.  For a moment, though, she'd
been vulnerable.

And he'd been reminded of the way things had once been between them.

Then, fool that he was, he'd blown it.

"Kate, wait a minute."  He caught up to her before she slid into the
truck.

She paused at the open door.  "Nathan and Merle are probably already
waiting for us."

"So let them wait.  We need to talk."

"We can talk while you're driving."  "No.  Now.  I want to explain"

"Explain what, Chase?"  she asked, using that special tone of hers,
layering sarcasm over pleasant melody.  "Why you ran out on me?  You're
more than a few years too late."

Though he'd hoped to get her to open up about what had happened with
Sage, he'd known this showdown was inevitable.  A matter of time.

"I didn't run out on you, but on the circumstances," he maintained;
even knowing her accusation held a seed of truth.  What had begun as a
means for him to prove he was as good as anyone had ended up scaring
him.  "You know I had to leave town."

She stared at him openmouthed before protesting, "I don't know that,
Chase.  Even if you felt that way, you could have told me.  You could
have said goodbye in person.  You could have called me later.  You
could have written.  You had any number of options--if you'd ever given
me a second thought!"

Her eyes shot green flames at him as they had each time he'd ticked her
off.  The memory of those eyes had haunted his dreams for years.  But
she didn't need to know that.

"I figured a clean break was easiest."

Her Spine stiffened and she seemed to grow another few inches. "Easiest
for you," she said softly.  "Yes, I'm sure it was... coward."

Her contempt cutting through him, she climbed into the passenger seat
and slammed the door in his face.  Chase figured he deserved that and
more.

As he rounded the truck, Kate stared out the side window.  He doubted
she'd be inclined to do any more talking for the moment, not even about
the horses.  His not knowing exactly what she'd imagined seeing when
touching Sage would eat at him until she'd answered some questions.

Like.  did her supposed vision reveal anything about what had been
happening at the refuge?

Chapter Four

Nathan Lantero waited for the rendezvous in the observation tower,
which was located on the highest point of the refuge.  He stared out
over the land that should belong to his people.  The Lakota considered
the Paha Sapa--the Black Hills--a sacred place.

Hundreds of years ago the Anasazi had mined these southern hills for
flint.  They'd left behind pictographs in the limestone walls--the
legacy of Native Americans.  The refuge held part of that legacy.  The
Lakota had been negotiating with the governor to buy the state-owned
property when Chase Brody had stepped in with an alternative plan. That
a white man had swayed the governor away from his original negotiations
had come as no surprise.

Spotting the Bronco winding around a curve, Nathan descended the wooden
stairs, careful to avoid the danger spots caused by rotting wood and
missing boards.  Luke most everything else on the refuge, the
observation tower needed serious repair if not demolition.  And the way
things were headed, he doubted Brody would get it together before
losing the place.

He sauntered over to Merle, who was sitting in the back of her pickup
passing time with Gerry and Lyne,

a pair of pretty dark-haired sisters in their early twenties, who had
volunteered to spend their two weeks' vacation at the refuge.

"Brody's here," he told them.  The truck was just pulling up to the
site.

"Finally."

Getting to her feet, Merle threw her legs over the side of the pickup
and dropped to the ground, Gerry and Lyne following but hanging back
slightly.  Brody and Kate left the Bronco.  He couldn't help but notice
the tension between them.  Kate seemed to purposely put distance
between her and the refuge manager.

Without preamble, Brody asked Merle, "So what did you find?"

"Nothing you're going to like."

Nathan added, "We think a bunch of horses went over that downed
fence--unless they somehow picked their way to the west pasture."

"How many?"

"Give or take a few we mighta missed, thirty-seven in the north pasture
and another eleven in the east."

"That makes nearly a hundred gone, then."

"We could look forever," Merle said, "and never find them all."

"We'd better," Brody said, "or I'll have to make a report to the BLM.
Missing horses won't look good for us."

Rather, for him, Nathan thought.  He knew the man was worried that the
BLM would consider him irresponsible.  The government would have the
right to pull the remaining horses still under the BLM's protection out
from under him.  Then his big dream would collapse.

And, Nathan knew, his people would have another opportunity to buy back
what was rightfully theirs.

"The horses couldn't have strayed too far, right?"  Kate asked.

"Let's hope not," Brody said, though he didn't look optimistic.  "We'll
have to check with the surrounding ranches, see if anyone has spotted
loose mustangs.  Nathan, you take the Double K and Rocking Horse.
Merle, check with the Johnson Ranch and

Big Sky.  Kate and I will pay Thea Lockridge a visit.  " " And welcome
to her," Merle muttered.  " We'll meet back at the office before dark.
"

Knowing he was being sent on a fool's errand, Nathan signaled Gerry.
"Let's get going."

Dark eyes sparkling, she asked, "Want me to drive?"

He was distracted from answering by Kate's saying "Chase, I need a
minute to talk to Nathan first."  That took him by surprise.

Brody nodded curtly.  "Don't take too long."

"Let's go over there."  Kate cocked her head toward the observation
tower.

Curious, Nathan followed.  Noting she seemed on edge even away from
Brody, he asked, "So what's up?"  the moment they were out of hearing
range of the others.

"We located the mares Doc had been treating.  I Checked them over to
make certain they were fit.  When I got to Sage--she's the leader--the
weirdest thing happened.  I couldn't really talk to someone as
skeptical as Chase about it.  I figured if anyone would understand, you
would."

Nathan knew all about Kate's being able to merge her spirit with that
of an animal, an ability his late father had helped her to develop--and
the main reason he'd given her such a hard time when they were kids. He
hadn't believed that his father could give so much regard to someone
else's child without his losing something.  And he'd resented that she
had an ability considered to be within the province of his own people.
One far stronger than his own.

"What did you see, Kate?"

"Running horses.  I sensed their fright ... and Sage's terror.  The
feelings were so overwhelming I pulled away from the images too soon.
But even with my eyes open, the intensity didn't go away.  My heart
felt as if it were pounding out of my chest.  My reaction pan-Joked
Sage and she took off."  Obviously still affected, Kate took a shaky
breath.  "Nathan, I've never had such a powerfql experience before."

Wary of where this might lead, he asked, "What do you think it
means?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"I'm not the one who had the vision."  Besides, he wanted to know her
thoughts.  "And it sounds like you already have an opinion."

"This may sound crazy, but I imagined that I saw a stampede--maybe the
one that killed Doc."

When Nathan had suggested she vet the wild horses, he'd figured she
would be a distraction for Brody.  Somehow her tuning into Doc's death
hadn't occurred to him.

"That would make sense, wouldn't it?"  she went on.  "The accident
happened less than a week ago.  Maybe I should try again."

"So you can torture yourself?"  Nathan shook his head.  "Better you try
to forget you saw anything.  I

know how close you and Doc were.  Dwelling on his death can only bring
you more heartache.  "

Suddenly aware they weren't alone, he glanced over his shoulder.  Gerry
had trailed after him and was waiting a few yards back.  Close enough
to hear?

"Or maybe it'll give me some answers," Kate was saying.

Nathan returned his full attention to her.  He recognized the set of
her jaw.  He knew when to back off.  No good would come of his probing
deeper.  But if he objected too strongly, she'd go ahead and try again
for sure.

So all he said was, "let me know if I can be of help.  You can always
talk to me."

That way he'd know exactly what was going on.

"You,tayto LAhrnmo have something going?"

Chase posed the question only after they turned onto land identified as
Lockridge Acres by a bill-board-size sign--and as casually as if her
answer meant nothing to him.  Not that Kate bought the bias6 attitude.
She'd seen Chase glaring at her and Nathan from a distance.  He'd
looked less than pleased--downright ticked, actually--but she'd merely
assumed he'd guessed her purpose and hadn't liked being left out of the
loop where it concerned his horses.

Now she was wondering if his reaction wasn't more personal.  Her pulse
threaded unevenly at the thought.  Even though she knew she was too
smart to be sucked in by Chase again, she couldn't help herself.

She asked, "What's it to you?"  and avidly watched for his reaction.

But he kept his expression passive when he took his eyes off the gravel
drive long enough to glance at her.

"Just trying to catch up."

"I'll bet you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You never were much interested in anything that didn't concern you
directly."

Making her think that she might concern him.  Was it possible?

"Maybe I'm not the same person I once was."  Definitely possible, Kate
realized, her heart skipping a beat.  Chase certainly hadn't grown any
more sociable with the years.  But maybe he'd changed inside, where it
counted.  Not that he'd been a bad person, simply self-absorbed. 
Twenty years ago, she never would have imagined him as selfless.  Yet
why else would he devote himself to taking care of horses that no one
wanted?

When she didn't respond to his statement, he pressed her.  "Or don't
you think a man can change?"

Irritated that part of her wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt
when her rational self saw the danger in letting down her guard, Kate
snapped, "In your case, that's about as likely as a leopard changing
its spots into stripes."

Chase tightened his jaw and stared straight ahead.  The Bronco was
'cutting through an expanse of prairie growth, but the vegetation
looked studied, Kate decided, the acreage too well tended to be
natural.  Thea Lockridge had hired some industrious landscaper.

Curious about the owner, she asked, "So what does Merle have against
this Thea?"

"For one, she's a newcomer to the area.  Sold her house in L.A. and
bought a small spread out here a couple of years ago.  She's been
buying up land ever since.  She's in real-estate development," he
added, as if the fact defined the type of woman she was.  That Chase
disliked her, also, was clear.

Kate was aware that many people resented transported Californiang, and
not only South Dakotans.  Locals all over the western states
bad-mouthed these interlopers, who were looking for a better life-style
at a much smaller price.  Migrating Californians bought up property at
inflated prices that natives couldn't afford, after which taxes were
raised for all.  While Kate figured every human being was entitled to
live where he or she wanted, she sympathized with those who were hurt
by the situation.

And Thea Lockridge certainly wasn't hurting, she noted, finally
sighting the house.

House?  Try mansion.

The architectural wonder of wood and glass had to be the biggest,
fanciest residence in this part of the state.  Actually, with four
rooms of the upper story jutting out like rounded appendages--giving
the occupants more than a 180-degree view--the building bordered on the
grotesque.  Kate wondered how many trees had fallen under the ax to
build the monstrosity.

Chase parked on the circular drive.  In back, showy stables topped by
what looked like sky boxes stood next to an ornate pool house and deck.
Beyond, another structure was identified by a sign that read
Outfitting.

As they left the Bronco, Kate asked, "Are you sure this isn't a
resort?"

"A very private resort to amuse Thea Lockridge and her friends."

"She entertains a lot of people from out of town?"

"So I've heard--her way of selling them real estate."

Chase stopped at the oversize double doors carved with Native American
designs.  He rang the bell.

In a low voice Kate said, "You told me Merle disliked the owner because
she's a transplant, for one.

What are the other reasons?  "

"You'll see," he promised.

The massive door swung open to reveal a uniformed maid.  "Good
afternoon.  May I help you?"

"I need to talk to Thea."

"May I tell Miss Lockridge who's calling?"  "Chase Brody."

"Oh, she'll want to see you of course."  Seeming flustered, the young
woman stepped back.  "Come in, please."

The icily air-conditioned foyer was quite a relief from the heat. After
getting an eyeful of the interior, Kate suspected the owner wouldn't
care what it cost the environment or her neighbors to possess whatever
struck her fancy.

"Please wait here while I'll announce you," the maid said.

She curtsied awkwardly before scurrying off through the living area
that had to be measured in yards rather than in feet.  The decor was an
eclectic collection of designer furniture, extravagant artwork and
morbid animal trophies--everything in excess.  A half-dozen stuffed
heads mounted around the foyer stared down blindly at them through
glass eyes.

Shivering from a combination of chilled air and disgust, Kate murmured,
"I don't think Thea Lock ridge is going to be my favorite person,
either."  Chase merely grunted.

A noisy clacking over bare wood floors alerted them to the owner's
arrival.  High-heeled boots and a blond beehive lent several inches to
an average stature.  While garbed in a country-casual denim skirt and a
sun pie long-sleeved silk shirt, the woman had draped herself with
enough Native American-style designer jewelry to set up her own
pawnshop.

"Chase Brody, how wonderful to see you."

She held out a hand decorated with long curved crimson nails that
reminded Kate of painted claws.  When he ignored- the friendly gesture,
Thea dropped her arm before turning to Kate, her gray eyes narrowing
and her exaggerated full red lips stretching into a smile.

"And you are... ?"

"Kate Farrell."

"Of the Farrell Ranch?"  She sounded impressed despite herself.  NOt
wanting the woman to think she had wealth in her favor, Kate said,
"Formerly.  My family owns the spread."

Thea arched her heavily penciled brows.  "And you chose to leave that
magnificent acreage for... ?"

"My practice is based in town," Kate hedged in response to the rude
question.  Her reasons were private.  "Besides, I'm quite comfortable
in Doc Weber's old house."

"Ah, then you must be the new veterinarian I've heard so much about."

"That's me."

Thea's interest immediately waned, and Kate wondered who in the world
was doing the talking.

Chase exposed his impatience with a testy "Can we get down to
business?"

"Business?"  Thea echoed, her smile now genuine.  "Of course.  Let's
chat in the living room, shall we?"

She swept them to a seating area surrounding a massive stone fireplace.
Kate carefully stepped over the bearskin rug and dodged a chair with a
frame made of antlers, a match for the chandelier overhead.  But she
couldn't avoid staring at the creature stationed across the room
surrounded by fancy leather saddles and silver spurs.  She'd prefer
believing the life-size Appaloosa was a ceramic or metal .  but it
looked so very real.  Surely the ex-Californian didn't have the bad
taste to own a stuffed horse .  Thea ensconced herself in the very
chair Kate had avoided, her attention focused on Chase, who sat stiff
as a statue.  He took up one end of the couch, while Kate tried to make
herself comfortable at the other.

"So, what took you so long, Chase?"  Thea asked.  "I assume you're here
about my offer."

"The refuge isn't for sale.  I've told you that any number of times."

But he hadn't told her that the tasteless woman had offered to buy it,
Kate thought, wondering why he'd omitted that little detail.

"I don't need the entire refuge.  Just a few thousand acres of north
pasture."

"So you can break up the land into another development?"

"You make my plans for the area sound so tacky.  We're not talking
about seedy little prefabricated houses lined up like a row of ducks.
You should know better, considering the estates I've already
developed."  '

"Housing no one around here can afford."

"So I'm drawing a certain class of people who enjoy the finer things in
life to the area.  More people with money means other kinds of
development, the creation of new jobs.  What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, if you' don destroy other people's way of life," Kate said.

Thea skipped over her objection.  "For my next project I envision large
tracts of common-use lands and the kind of individual acreage that will
allow the owners to enjoy as many horses"

"Horses," Chdse echoed, cutting her off.  "That's what we're here
for."

"I see."  The real-estate developer's smile vanished.  "You want
something from me when you won't even consider my offer."  She toyed
with a silver-and-turquoise necklace.  "How much do you need?"

"I'm not here about a donation," Chase assured her, "though Id be
pleased to accept one if you're feeling generous."  He paused a moment,
then when she didn't respond, went on.  "Some of my horses are
missing."

"How does that concern me?"

"Your property adjoins the refuge.  About a hundred head have
disappeared.  I thought some of them might have wandered onto your
land."

She appeared unconcerned.  "No one working for me has mentioned any
loose mustangs."

"Wild horses wouldn't exactly prance around some strangers," Kate told
her.  "More likely, they're hiding in some canyon or brushy area where
you might not be able to spot them unless you were looking hard."

"Right," Chase said.  "So you won't mind if we check around for
ourselves "

"That won't be necessary.  I'll alert my manager to have the men sweep
the range."

"It'd go faster if I went out with them."

"Not really."  Thea's gray eyes suddenly turned as flinty as her
expression.  "You're not familiar with my property.  Besides, I'm
certain you can find something more useful to do with your time."

Her tone left no room for argument, and they all rose to their feet.

Still, Kate couldn't help but be amazed that Chase let it go so easily.
She would have expected him to argue.  To bully.  To get what he
wanted.  This was a new side of him, all right, one she hadn't
expected.  And one she wasn't certain she appreciated, though she
guessed she should.  Lack of social skills had always been one of his
shortcomings.

"Well, thanks for the help, Thea," Chase said dryly.  Kate touched his
arm.  "We'd better get going."

But he didn't budge.  "You'll let me know what your men find, right?"

"Of course."  Thea sighed and her features softened.  She actually
appeared sympathetic when she said, "You know, Chase, you need to start
being realistic.  Why, it's Common knowledge that the refuge has been
on shaky ground for some time.  And poor Oscar Weber's death can't have
helped matters."

"As a matter of fact, we've gotten a load of sensation seekers taking
tours and trail rides," Chase said, though--to Kate's approval--he
didn't sound at all happy about the fact.

"A temporary aberration.  And in the meantime, serious prospective
sponsors might be turned off thinking the place isn't all it's cracked
up to be.  Not when a volunteer dies in a careless accident, for
heaven's sake."

Not liking the woman's subtle derision or fake compassion, Kate
snapped, "Doc wasn't careless and we can't be sure his death was an
accident!"

Thea stared at her.  "But surely the medical examiner-"

"Doesn't know everything," Kate interjected.

The other woman blinked, then snapped her attention back to Chase.
"Sooner or later you'll have to let go of acreage--if not worse.  Why
not act now, before things get so bad you can no longer salvage the
refuge?"

Although Thea made her suggestion sound reasonable and heartfelt, Kate
wasn't buying.

Obviously neither was Chase, because he said, "The money from selling a
few thousand acres would be like putting a bandage on a wound that
needed surgery."

"Not necessarily.  I can be a generous person when a good cause is
involved.  I'll pay above market, of course.  The purchase price will
support your endeavor for some time.  The money can give you needed
breathing room.  You'll have time to find yourself permanent support
from some foundation or other.  Perhaps I can even recommend"

Chase cut her off.  "Sorry.  I'm not interested."  And Thea's tone
reflected her irritation with him.  "I certainly hope nothing else
happens to threaten your project before you change your mind."

Kate realized that sounded like a threat.  Before she could open her
mouth in challenge, Chase took her elbow and rushed her off.

They were at the door before he turned back to the real-estate
developer.  "Something's been puzzling me.  There's bound to be some
hardworking, frustrated rancher in the area willing to be bought out of
business for the right price.  And that'd get you easier land to build
on, too.  Why is it you want a piece of the refuge so badly?"

Arching her penciled eyebrows, Thea said, "Wild things have always
appealed to me."

Aware of the animal heads surrounding her with accusing stares, Kate
shuddered.

And wondered exactly what Thea Lockridge might be capable of doing to
get what she wanted.

CHASE HAD rE VER LET anyone stop him when he really wanted something,
and he wasn't about to start now.  He'd just learned to use a smoother
approach when it suited him.  Arguing with Thea would have been futile,
but letting her think she'd won this round should have taken her off
guard, at least temporarily.  He might not be able to wander over
Lockridge Acres freely in broad daylight, but he could get a gander at
parts of the back property without breaking any laws.

If his passenger noticed he was taking a road away from the refuge, she
didn't comment.  Kate quiet--now that was an oxymoron.  She seemed lost
in her own thoughts and he wasn't complaining.  But as they sped
uphill, road cuts revealing granite, feldspar and veins of sparkling
quartz, she snapped out of her self-induced trance.

"Where are we headed?"  she asked, shifting in her seat to check out
the area.

"To a site with a view."

"Trying to impress me?"

His wayward mind substituting seduce for impress, he glanced at her.
"Do you want to be?"

She read him correctly if her rising color was any indication.  "I
don't impress easily anymore."

And Chase wondered if she was going to pick up their argument where
they'd left off earlier.  To his relief she fell silent, instead, and
seemed to be scrutinizing the forest of ponderosa pine that wrapped
them in its evening cloak, the green so dark it was almost black.

Dusk was descending, leaving barely enough light to check things out
from afar.

A few minutes later, he turned the Bronco into a good-size pullover
just before the road swung into a switchback curve.  Grabbing his
binoculars, he slid from behind the driver's seat.  He'd barely lifted
the field glasses to his eyes before he sensed Kate standing behind
him.  She really was capable of being quiet when she wanted.

"This is probably the only place where you can get an unobstructed view
of Lockridge Acres," he told her.

"You can see the whole place from here?"

Kate stepped up next to him, her arm brushing his elbow, sending a
tremor through him.  Too aware of her, as he'd been since the funeral,
Chase caught his breath and forced himself to concentrate.

"I can pretty much get the lay of the land.  Even though we're in the
hills, most of Lockridge Acres is pretty flat.  I see a few dozen
horses grazing..."  He just made them out before he spotted a cowhand
ride in.  None of the horses spooked.  "Nope, they're not ours."  He
scanned other open areas, then settled on the broken land
characteristic of the territory.  "Can't see down deep into the canyons
and ravines or through the stands of pine," he said of the various
hidey-holes where frightened horses might gather.  "But at least I have
an idea of what's what."

"I thought you gave up too easily."

He lowered the field glasses and noticed that in the waning light her
verdant eyes took on the same dark depth as the surrounding pines.
"That disappointed you?"

"It confused me."

"Why?  Because it meant I might be wearing stripes, instead of those
spots?"  he asked, realizing he was the one instigating a renewal of
their disagreement.

She grabbed the binoculars from him and had a look for herself.
"Because you're turning out to be more clever than I gave you credit
for."

Chase found himself grinning.  Kate never had been able to admit when
she was wrong about anything.

He wasn't thinking of mustangs when he said, "Sometimes I can be blind,
but not today."

Today he could see exactly what he might have had if only things had
been different.  The wild child had grown into a strong woman of
integrity.  One who could still stir his deepest passions.  Who could
touch his very soul.

"My turn to get the lay of the land," she returned, now clearly
oblivious to his thoughts.  "Unless you think I'm wasting my time."

Chase recognized the question in her words.  She was wondering if he
planned on spiting Thea and checking things out more closely for
himself.  He wasn't about to admit that he meant to ride out to
Lockridge Acres in the dead of night.  Unless Kate had changed
drastically, she would insist on tagging along on an exploit that could
prove dangerous.  He couldn't chance her getting hurt.

He had enough to atone for.

"Look all you want," he said, putting some distance between them. "I'll
have to trust Thea to come through."

Kate glanced his way, then pitched the binoculars into the truck before
following him.  "I wouldn't trust that woman farther than I could throw
her."  "So you don't like her, either."

"Does anyone?"

"Hard to say.  I suppose she can be charming."  "Charming as a
snake."

That she sounded a bit indignant egged Chase on.  "And she is an
eyeful."

"An eyesore, you mean."

"Kathleen McKenna Farrell--is that the way your mother taught you to
talk?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin.  "My mother is
a bit naive about people."

"I don't remember that about her.  I only remember her being warm and
kind and supportive," he said sincerely.  "I figured you were the
luckiest kid in the world to have her."

That took the wind out of Kate's sails.  Even she couldn't argue with
his complimenting her own mother.  She wandered into the stand of tall
pine, circling one tree, then another.

"We're getting away from the subject," she said.  Her expression grew
serious.  "Chase, I know something's not right here."  She took a deep
breath and asked, "What's really going on with the refuge?"

Chapter Five

Chase should have known that Kate wouldn't be any more shortsighted
than she'd been as a kid when she'd seen through his bavad to the hurt
within.  He'd ap-predated that abofit her.  That, and maybe a hundred
other things.  All the more reason to feel guilty about what he'd done
to her.

He'd tricked her.  used her.  and then he'd up and disappeared.

"I wish I knew what's going on," he admitted.  "Since the tourist
season started, we've been cursed by bad luck."

Kate nodded.  "Doc's death.  The downed fence.  Now the missing
horses."

She didn't know the half of it.  But she would before long, so Chase
figured he might as well get what had been eating at him off his
chest:

"Before that, the tourist-mobile broke down.  Not that the old pickup
didn't need a lot of work in general.  But it ran out of oil when it
shouldn't have, and no warning light ever came on.  We put it to a
faulty wire and had to replace the engine."

"Ouch!"

"Damn straight, ouch.  That could have been a mortgage payment," he
said, still disgusted at the waste of money.  "Then some workhorses got
sick on fouled hay.  Luckily Doe spotted the problem right away like he
did with that weird virus.  But no one caught the fire that torched one
of the buildings Nathan was working on.  We were damn lucky that it
rained before the fire spread."

Her forehead furrowed.  "You don't think..."

"That someone wants to drive the refuge out of existence?"  Bone-tired,
Chase set his shoulder against a tree and wondered if he would ever
catch his breath.  "I've been trying not to think that, but putting
eve-thing to coincidence is getting mighty hard."

Kate rested her back against the big old pine tree opposite him and
hitched the heel of her red boot against its trunk.  He could see the
wheels of her mind clicking in the subtle change of her eyes, He'd once
been familiar with her every expression, her every mood.  He'd carried
those impressions away with him and suspected that at least some of
them would have a place in his memory forever.

But when she suddenly asked, "Why is Thea willing to pay above market
for the land?"  he realized she was still able to surprise him.

"Because she wants to make money on it."

"The question is how?"

"She's a real-estate developer, remember."

"That's what she said," Kate agreed.  "But, like you, I wonder if the
explanation is really that simple."

The reason he'd challenged Thea about wanting refuge land
specifically.

"I don't know.  But then, I don't know much lately."

He understood the Thea Lockridges of the world only on a surface level.
Greed was greed no matter where a person hailed from.  But he didn't
have a clue what she might be planning beneath that beehive of hers.

Kate surprised him' yet again when she asked, "Are you considering
Thea's offer?"

"Why should I?"

"It is possible that her proposition might he the answer to the refug
's problems, isn't it?"

Anger swirled in the pit of his stomach.  "Giving the mustangs less
roomtorun free is a solution?"

"They're not ruianing free now, Chase, not with fences and vetting,
supplementary feed and roundups," Kate argued.  "Face it.  You may he
working in a less restrictive manner than normal, but you are managing
the herd."

"Which is better than their giving up the will to live in feedlots
where.  they can't run at all!  They grow despondent.  Many refuse to
eat."  He shook his head.  "I've seen too many dead mustangs
already."

"The reason you got involved in the first place?"

She sighed.  "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's a long story, Kate."  "I'm not going anywhere."

Chase could almost hear her thousand and one questions.  If he started,
there would be no turning back.  Did he want to open himself to her
scrutiny?  He had to admit that Kate deserved more than he'd given her
so far.  He couldn't make up for the past, but he could give her at
least part of the truth.

Agitated, he shoved his hands in his pockets and began to pace.  "When
I left here, I hitched my way to

Nevada, to my uncle Ross's spread.  "

" Peggy's brother?  "

" Yeah.  "

Reminded of his gentle mother who'd died of abuse and neglect long
before he'd hit puberty--before he was tall enough and strong enough to
do something about his drunken no-good father--Chase nodded.  He
couldn't think of her without feeling sick inside.

"Ross was a good man," he said, continuing as much for himself as for
Kate.  "Tough, though.  He took me in without any questions, but he
worked my butt--both on the ranch and off--exactly like he did his own
boys.  He made sure I got my high-school diploma.  And then he prodded
me into taking courses that had to do with ranch management and animal
husbandry at the local college.  No degree," he added, just in case she
was wondering.

Kate merely shrugged and said, "I know Nevada holds about half of our
wild-horse population.  And that the ranchers are fighting multipurpose
usage of federal lands and want to restrict open range to their
cattle."

"Some of them are hotheads, not averse to taking the law into their own
hands and damn the consequences."

Chase stopped at the edge of a narrow ravine that zigzagged along the
pine stand.  He stared into the crevasse, unseeing, as he recalled the
memory that drove him.

"One day I was out rounding up cattle with my cousins Lee and Mitch.  I
went after a few strays and by accident stumbled on a secluded water
hole."

Though upwards of a dozen years had passed, the horror hadn't.  "More
than thirty mustangs had been shot to death."  He glanced at Kate,
whose expression reflected what he was feeling.  "All they were doing
was trying to get water to survive a while longer."  Her "How awful"
sounded strangled.

Though he accepted the image that always followed him, Chase allowed
himself to be distracted by a clump of flowers on the slope a few feet
below.  He stepped down and captured a bloom, delicate against his
callused hand, then approached Kate who seemed frozen to the spot.

He'd always thought the moments before twilight surrendered to dark
were mystical.  He could barely see her, bright red hair deepened to
mahogany, eyes dark pools of pain, brimming with unshed tears.  Did she
cry for the mustangs?  Or for him?

Not wanting to be pitied, he offered her the flower.  "Venus slipper."
When she didn't respond, he reached out to slide the orchid's stem
behind her ear.  She shuddered, and Chase thought she might bolt.  "A
beautiful bright spot in the dark," he murmured, trailing a fingertip
along a curly wisp of hair that feathered her cheek.  "Like you."

Her breath caught and she said softly, "I wish you hadn't seen that
tragedy."

"Don't.  I'm glad I did--I vowed never to forget.

That season I started adopting mustangs.  " " To protect them.  " " A
drop in the bucket.  "

Unable to help himself, he ran his knueldes along Kate's jawline.  He
hadn't forgotten her, either.  He hadn't even come close.  He'd judged
every woman he'd ever been with using her as a standard.  Few had met
her measure.

None had been her.

For months--since that Nash guy had divorced Kate and she'd moved back
to Bitter Creek--he'd been tempted to seek her out.  To learn if memory
and reality had anything in common.  But the past that goaded him had
also stopped him.  He'd been ashamed.  And afraid.

And so he'd let it alone.

In the end she had come to him, even if the wild horses had been her
excuse.

A sign?

He set a palm against the tree trunk above her head and leaned in.  Her
familiar scent teased him, her remembered warmth tormented him.

Staring into the face so close to his own, he recognized the curiosity
in Kate's eyes.  And the questions.  She blinked but didn't glance
away.  She sighed but didn't speak.  Her lips trembled.  Parted.
Fascinated by her lower lip, he ran his thumb pad along its fullness.

He remembered kissing this mouth.  How could he forget?

He would have been less than a man if he didn't try to revive the
past.

ICT'S pounds S wt)va, me when Chase's head dipped toward hers.  As if
from a distance--as if it was happening to someone else--she watched
him move in on her in slow motion.  She had the time she needed to duck
away.  She told herself to move, to get out of this while she could.

But curiosity held her fast, wouldn't let her budge.  She tried to
think.  She couldn't.  Like a deer caught in headlights, she was
trapped, heart thundering, waiting for the inevitable.

And then it was too late to do anything but yield.  Kissing Chase was
familiar and yet not.  He was harder, stronger, more practiced than she
remembered.  She was older, wiser, more discerning.  They weren't kids,
doing what came naturally.  They were adults, testing each bther.
testing themselves.  And then something changed.

Chase stopped holding back and kissed her like a man desperate for what
he feared he couldn't claim.  His muffled groan speared her with
something Kate didn't want to feel.  Confusing emotions engulfed her.
Some small rational part of her thought to stop and push him away, bit
his urgency proved contagious.  Impulse wrapped her arms around his
neck.  Memory fitted her mouth perfectly to his.  Need opened her to
his invasion.

Running on instinct, she fed on the physical sensations swamping her as
he moved in, pressing her back into the scratchy bark, tugging at her
waist until her hips flowed forward, meeting his.  Head light, body
heavy, she gave herself up to the moment and a kiss so deep she
couldn't stop the wanton sound that welled in her throat and escaped to
his capture.

With a like groan, Chase slid his hand upward, finding the fullness of
her breast.  Blood rushing through her suddenly weak limbs, she nearly
drowned in a wash of desire.  She dug her fingers into his neck and
shoulder and arched her back in an attempt to get even closer.

His mouth left hers with a gasp.  He was having trouble breathing
normally.  As was she.  Sucking air deep into her lungs, she willed her
whirling head to clear.  She hadn't been kissed so thoroughly since.
Since?  Mayhe never.

Lingering emotions warred with good sense.  Had Chase pressed the
issue, she might have thrown herself back in his arms.  But he seemed
equally indecisive.  And she began wondering what in the world had
possessed her.  How could she have lost her head so thoroughly?

She put her response down to madness--a full-moon night--and took
control of the situation.

Palms levered against his chest encouraged Chase to back off.  A few
calming breaths, and her world began to right itself.  The hour had
grown late, their surroundings dark.  She could barely make out his
face.  His thoughts were hidden from her.  Good.  That meant he
couldn't read her confusion, either.

She tried to sound as if nothing had happened when she said, "Nathan
and Merle are probably wondering if we fell into a sinkhole."

A low curse under his breath was followed by Chase's growling, "Then
we'd better get back, hadn't we?"

As if part of some silent pact, neither said a word about the kiss as
they climbed into the truck.  Maybe Chase was regretting it already,
Kate thought, wishing herself somewhere else.  Anywhere but with him.

She pushed her thoughts away from Chase, tried to focus on other
matters.  As soon as they arrived at the refuge, she would make some
excuse and leave for home.  That would give her some breathing room.

And time to prepare for her night's adventure.

Kate reminded herself that she had a wild horse to find.  and, if her
instincts were correct, another truth to learn, as well.

ANNIE'S STOMACH turned itself inside out as she watched Chase and Kate
Farrell alight from the Bronco and she was faced with the truth.
Standing on the screened porch; she wasn't close enough to the parking
area to hear what they were saying to each other, but between the full
moon and the dim yard light, she certainly could read their body
language.  Both of them appeared tense.  With each other.

A weight settled on Annie's chest and she could hardly think above the
rushing noise filling her ears.  She'd been dreading this.  For once
she'd hoped her instincts had been wrong, but no, they'd been on the
money.

Something personal was going on between those tWO .  "Hey, is that
Chase or what?"  Nathan called irritably from the office.  "If not, I'm
gonna get outta here and find myself some grub."

Annie kept her voice sounding as natural as she could.  "He's here."

Nathan and Merle had been waiting for Chase to show for the best part
of an hour.  Enough time for her to conjure all sorts of things going
wrong.

- Everyone else had left for home or town, including the volunteers
who'd gone out with the employees.  But the sisters had been around
long enough for that gossipy Gerry to spill her guts about Kate's
conversation with Nathan.  The veterinarian had claimed she'd gotten
into the mind of a horse and had seen a stampede, maybe the one that
had killed Doc.

Annie wondered how many others Gerry had already told--not that she
believed such spooky incidents had any real basis in fact.

But what if.  Wired, wanting to break up the cozy tete-ah-tete between
Chase and Kate that was making her sick, Annie was about to shout a
greeting when the new vet abruptly waltzed over to her pickup.  Chase
stood staring after her for a minute before stalking toward the
office.

Annie opened the screen door for him.  "We were beginning to think you
got lost."

Distracted, he muttered, "Something like that," and turned to watch the
pickup shoot down the gravel road.

Swallowing her rising anger so he wouldn't notice was some trick.  She
took a deep breath and informed him, "Nathan and Merle have been
waiting."

"Right."

He marched straight into the office without even looking at her.  Right
behind him, Annie cursed the day Kate Farrell had stepped her pretty
red boots on the Bitter Creek Mustang Refuge.

"Did you find the missing horses?"  Merle asked without preamble.

"No sign of them."  Chase threw himself into a chair opposite his
employees.  "I guess that means that neither of you had any luck,
either."

Nathan shrugged.  "No one admits to seeing any stray mustangs."

"But you think they might have?"

"Someone must've.  Those horses couldn't have up and disappeared into
thin air."

"Not a hundred head," Merle agreed.  "And not when they carry those
freeze marks identifying them as being under BLM protection."

Needing Chase's attention, Annie placed a comforting hand on his
shoulder and added, "Sounds like someone's making trouble for us on
purpose."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

And when the trouble had started, Chase had turned to her to talk
things through, Annie remembered.  And when he'd really been down,
they'd even shared a couple of dinners.  Finally.  Progress!  His
wanting to confide in her had made everything she'd done for him
worthwhile.

Though she'd always loved horses--the reason she'd visited the
sanctuary in the first place--she hadn't sacrificed her real life just
to help the mustangs.  Her sights had been set on bigger game.  Chase
himself.  She'd fallen in love with the man the moment she'd met him,
had figured it was merely a matter of time and opportunity before he
realized she was the woman he needed as his life's partner.  And she'd
been very clever on how to go about getting him.

With each problem that had crept up on the refuge, she'd offered Chase
her sympathy and had volunteered her help in finding solutions.  They'd
grown closer--and would have grown intimate, she was certain-if only
Kate Farrell hadn't appeared to upset things.  The night before, Chase
had even canceled the dinner she'd spent so much time planning and
looking forward to.  Even her reminding him about the welfare of the
mustangs hadn't changed his mind.

Two damn daysMand before that, months of gain--gone to dust.

"So what are we gonna do?"  Nathan was asking.

"At the moment," Chase said grimly, "all we can do is keep our ears and
eyes open for the trouble-maker."

But how did he figure he could manage that when all his spare attention
seemed to be focused on the redhead?  Annie Wondered.

When she'd decided to go after Chase with everything she had, Kate
Farrell was an obstacle she hadn't even considered.  But she couldn't
let a little unexpected deterrent discourage her, not after all her
hard work.  Never one to sit around and twiddle her thumbs while
waiting for someone else to solve her problems, she wasn't about to
start now.  She wasn't about to let another woman seduce the man she
loved without putting up a fight.

No matter that the vet seemed like a decent sort, Annie knew she had to
act fast and not worry about scruples.

Where Chase Brody was concerned, she couldn't afford to have a
conscience.

"Sr^," KATrot.  D Wrangler, giving him the hand signal Doc had trained
him to recognize.  "I shouldn't be gone too long, so you wait for me
here, okay?"

The patchwork mutt yawned loudly, turned in a full circle and plunked
down on the old chair pillow she'd thrown in the bed of her pickup for
him.

"Good boy."

Normally she wouldn't have brought a dog onto refuge land lest he
inadvertently scare the horses, but Wrangler was a quiet guy and
exceedingly well behaved.  Doc had seen to that.  While his slight size
wouldn't afford much in the way of protection, she'd felt better having
his company on the ride out.  And

Doc had told her a body couldn't ask for a better watchdog.  Not
altogether comfortable wandering around the refuge by herself in the
dark, she wouldn't mind Wrangler's guarding her back, even though from
a distance.

If only Chase had believed her--or if Nathan hadn't warned her off
seeking out the horses again--she wouldn't have considered coming out
alone.

Kate started down the incline where she and Chase had found Sage and
her band grazing.  Since the horses had hung around the area for
several days after the stampede, she didn't feature them drifting too
far off now because of a minor scare.

Making her way, by the glow of the full moon high in the sky--daw ri
was barely a few hours away--she checked the light hanging from her
belt, using her free hand to shelter the high beam.  She meant to use
the bright light only as necessary.  The less intrusive she was, the
more likely she would be to get close to

Chase's horses.

Chase.

She couldn't stop thinking about the man he'd become and the life he'd
chosen for himself.

At first she'd been baffled by his apparent selflessness in taking on a
burden the size of the refuge, but having had time to consider their
earlier conversation, she thought she understood why.  Chase had felt
completely helpless upon finding those horses shot dead at their water
hole.

Undoubtedly as helpless as he'd felt against his father when Vernon
Brody had raised his hand to his wife.

Not that Peggy had been murdered.

Vernon had merely intimidated the sweet woman into staying away from
doctors, who might have questioned or even reported her too-frequent
scrapes and bruises.  By the time she'd been desperately sick enough to
defy her husband, the cancer had been unstoppable.

Despite the many years that had passed, Kate still remembered the night
Chase had poured out his heart to her.  His unresolved frustration. His
grief.  His guilt.  Things he said he'd never shared with anyone
else.

The correlation was clear to her.  The wild horses were as helpless
against men with high-powered rifles as Peggy had been against her
husband's fists.  She figured that, whether or not Chase consciously
knew it, he was trying to atone for his inability to save his mother by
defending other creatures who couldn't protect themselves.

And now a sizable part of his herd had disappeared.

He must be going nuts.

At the foot of the ravine Kate stood still and listened for equine
sounds.  The wind soughed around her and she imagined she heard a sharp
bark.  Wrangler?  Or a coyote?  The sound wasn't repeated, so she
Picked her way along the bank of the stream in the direction the
mustangs had fled, careful to keep her boots dry.  She flicked on her
flashlight where the ravine took a sharp turn.

Stopping at the curve's end, she whistled softly, the combination of
notes the same as she'd used that afternoon.  Rather than proceeding
forward, she waited.  Whistled.  Waited.  Whistled and waited some
more.

Ears attuned to the night, she picked out a faint snort and the clack
of hooves against limestone.  A

second later a rock came clattering down the ravine behind her as if it
had been kicked.  Though she threw a nervous glance over her shoulder,
she didn't really expect to see anything.  The horses banded together,
and she knew they were stealing toward her from the opposite
direction.

A gust of wind curled around her body, bringing with it other noises
that had nothing to do with horses.  The wind.

What an idiot!  Feeling silly, she relaxed and whistled again.

Her reward came in some answering snorts.  More clacks.  A soft
whinny.

She discerned the mustangs' approach even before she saw them.  Spread
along the side of the ravine, they advanced in fits and starts.  She
knew they'd recognized her whistle and in some respect trusted her or
they wouldn't have responded.  She stared in their direction until her
eyes adjusted and she could make out not only their pale markings, but
the shapes of even the darkest mares.

A single neo us neigh and some quick-hoofed dancing on rock made her
stop and hold her breath.  She glanced around.  Of course she was
alone.  But the wind was still gusting and they must have caught her
scent.  She'd purposely worn Doc's vest so the horses would not only
smell her, but him, as well.  She'd hoped to put them at ease with his
familiar presence.

The mares continued to move in her direction, and if she was mistaken,
with less hesitation.  Relieved--her plan seemed to be working--she let
go of her held breath and pursed her lips to repeat the familiar
notes.

Within moments the girls were surrounding her, near enough to take
treats from one hand while let ting her touch them with the other. Kate
slowly made her way through the small band, all the while edging closer
to Sage, who stood tense and aloof from the others.

The breeze sprang up and the lead marc's nostrils quivered.  Sage made
a noise that sounded distinctly like horse-grumbling.  Kate's pulse
threaded unevenly as the grulla picked her way closer, leading with her
twitching nose.  Doc's scent apparently confused her.  Sage cocked her
head, eyeing Kate suspiciously.

"You remember Doc, don't you, girl?  He was your friend," she murmured,
holding out a chunk of carrot to lure the horse closer.  "Mine, too."

This time Sage ignored the treat in her hand and went straight for the
vest, burying her nose in the folds of the well-worn cotton and
snorting loudly.  Pleased, Kate ran her hand along the left side of
Sage's neck beneath the shaggy mane, her fingertips finding the freeze
mark that was the marc's government identification number.

Senses fine-tuned, Kate heard a sharp if distant bark, but was too
enthralled with her success to worry about it.  Warm horseflesh quaked
against her palm.  The mare seemed caught up in ShUffling Doc's scent
and making low noises in the back of her throat.

Giving Kate the distinct impression that Sage was mourning him.

Concentrating on what she'd seen of the stampede the last time, she
closed her eyes and opened her mind.  Other distorted impressions
immediately filled the void.  a sharp whine followed by horses bolting
in every direction.  thick white foam lathering a straining neck.  wild
eyes roiling.  Kate's heart began to pump as rapidly as if she were
part of the band.  Again fear taunted her, but this time, not wanting
to break her connection to Sage, she refused to let the emotion
overwhelm her, not even when she heard the scream.  human and yet not,
the sound reverberated through her skull.  struck terror in her heart.
suddenly the sky was charged with sheet lightning and tilted crazily .
another whine.  a dog barking.  muscular bodies pushing at her from
both sides and behind.  she couldn't move.  nowhere to go.  Sage threw
up her head, momentarily breaking the connection.  Kate whispered
calming words, all the while stroking the marc's short thick neck with
both hands.

"We can't stop now, Sage," she whispered, sounds eerily echoing through
her head.  Horses screaming.  Dog barking.  "Not until I see
everything.  We can't stop," she repeated.  "Not yet."

Not yet.  sharp pain hot through her legs.  a lurch forward.  the sky
breaking into a million shards.  distorted images, closer.  a lathered
bay.  a freeze mark across a paint's hindquarters..  a dun dodging
something below.  human legs.  boots suddenly dancing into air.
"Omigod!"  Kate cried softly, tears squeezing through closed lids.
"Doc!"

Through Sage's haunting memory, she became witness to the stampede that
had killed her mentor.  The images were unlike anything that any human
could have seen, however, for the horse's vision was not binocular. She
was seeing two different views--one from each eye--simultaneously.

The effect was confusing, dizzying.

She forced herself to hang on a moment longer.  dodging.  weaving.
circling.  escaping into a thick, wet emptiness.  But not before she
saw something that didn't compute.

Heart pounding against her ribs, Kate flashed open her eyes, the
misplaced image burned clearly into her.  Realizing she'd stopped
breathing, she gasped.  Air exploded into her lungs and through her
head, drowning out a sharp bark.

She'd been prepared to see Doc's death, bur not this.

Not proof that his death had been no accident!

chapter Six

Stunned, Kate barely registered the dick that cut through the night.
Sage's ears pricked and she snorted.  A high-pitched whine, closer,
made her start.  What the hell was that?

Tension spread through the small band.  All facing the direction from
which she'd come, the mares were on alert--nostrils quivering, ears
twitching, hooves dancing.  Kate flashed a quick look around the ravine
but didn't see or hear anything out of place.  With senses far more
finely tuned than hers, however, the mares were on edge, muscles
bunched, as if waiting for Sage's signal to flee.

Another high-pitched whine and the grulla reared onto her hind legs,
screaming her displeasure.

And an astonished Kate put a name to the sound.  A gunshot!

Instinct drove Kate toward cover, even as the wild horses exploded
around her.  Panicked, they bolted with her, and for a moment she
thought she might be forced down under their hooves.  But as if some
otherworldly force protected her, she remained untouched.

Dodging behind a boulder as the last of the mares darted past, she
huddled against the cool rock and tried to make sense of what was
happening.  Why would someone be shooting at the horses?

Or was she the target?

Either way, she couldn't chance a noise or movement that might alert
the gunman.  She hunched into a ball and huddled against the boulder.
The heat of fear seared her, sending rivulets of sweat rolling down her
spine and between her breasts.  She'd never been in a situation like
this before.

What to do?

How could she protect herself?

Confusion filled her when minutes passed and she heard nothing more
threatening than the wind.  Had she imagined the gunshots, then?  Maybe
no one was waiting for her with a loaded rifle, after all.  Maybe she
was just freaking out.  Connecting with Sage had been such a powerful
phenomenon .  how could she be certain the guns ho hadn't been nothing
more than echoes of the experience, rather than the whine of bullets
speeding past her ear?

As much as she wanted to believe that, she couldn't.  A very real
threat had panicked those horses.

But a threat to whom?  she wondered again.

Her mouth was dry, but her pulse had steadied.  Uncoiling a bit, she
strained to hear.  Something.  Anything.

Nothing.

No cocked rifle.  No bullet whine.  No skidding rock.  Absolutely
nothing to alarm her.

Was she safe, then?  Or would leaving her hiding place make her the
perfect target?

How much longer did she need to wait?

Suddenly something or someone scrabbling and slipping along pebbled
rocks raised the hairs at the nape of her neck.  Muscles bunched, Kate
readied herself to run when a sharp bark made her pause.  More barks.

Familiar barks.

Before she could fly to her feet, a furry body leapt over the boulder
and lunged at her.

"Wrangler," she gasped in relief.  Landing on her chest, he licked her
face, wriggling as if he was trying to get inside her skin.  Never so
glad to see anyone, she hugged the mutt and ruffled his fur.  "Let's
get back to the pickup and head for home."

But she'd barely moved from her shelter when she heard the clop-clop of
hooves.  She froze and pin-pointed the sound.  Her blood ran cold.

It was metal hitting rock.  A shoed horse.

The gunman!

Blindly she flew in the other direction, yelling,

"Wrangler, c'mon!"

"Kate!"

Panicked, she didn't so much as pause at the sound of her name.  She
ran as fast as her legs would move, Wrangler alongside her, running and
jumping and yapping as though they were playing a game.  "Kate, wait
up!"

Hooves pounded the earth directly behind her as she clambered up the
side of the ravine, Wrangler beating her to the flat above.  He barked
as if to spur her on, but she was tiring fast, could hardly catch her
breath.  The rider was gaining.  She forced her legs to keep moving,
even when she felt the horse's breath cross the back of her neck.

Sensing the rider dipping toward her, she yelled, "No-o-o!"

A band of steel hooked her waist and lifted her off her feet.  She
screamed and kicked out, her booted toe meeting his shin.  A low male
curse inspired her to more damage.  Hand balled, she flashed out
blindly,

her fist meeting her attacker's middle.

With an "Oof" he dropped her.

Exhausted, winded, she sought the energy to get to her feet.  But all
she could do was lay there panting, staring up at the figure
silhouetted by the moon.

Chase.  Rifle in hand.

"WHAT THE HELL is wrong with you?"  Chase yelled.

He was seeing-red angry, not because Kate had socked him, but because
she was out here alone in the middle of the night.  This was the kind
of crazy stunt he would have expected of her when she was a kid.
Obviously she had never completely lost her wild streak.

"Me?"  she gasped.  "I'm not the one holding the weapon.  '

Realizing his rifle was aimed at her, Chase lowered it to a
nonthreatening position.  "Satisfied?"

"Not by a long shot."  A strangled giggle turned into a hiccup.  "Stay
away from me."

Wrangler barked and half-ran, half-slid down to Kate's side, where he
sat, tongue lolling.

"Are you crazy?"  Chase asked, more ticked off by the minute over her
furtive excursion and those shots he'd heard.  "Didn't you think you
might get hurt out here?"

"Do you always shoot first, ask questions later?"

Chase went very still.  Surely Kate couldn't believe he'd tried to
shoot her.  What would make her think he wanted to harm her in any way?
Admittedly he'd thought about throttling her for coming out here alone
at night--and the temptation was growing stronger.

Stiffly he informed her, "My rifle hasn't been fired."

"Right."

"She didn't trust him.  Clenching his jaw, he tossed the rifle down to
her.  " Your imaginafion's on overload.  Check for your selL

Kate felt the barrel, smelled the chamber, then looked up at him in
astonishment.  "It wasn't you."  She scrambled to bel feet and handed
the weapon back to him.  "Someone did shoot at me, honest.  At least
twice."

"I heard three shots," he admitted.

That someone had discharged a weapon wasn't in dispute.  Once more
Chase glared into the dark as if he could pick out the perpetrator. But
whoever had released a couple of loads in her direction was undoubtedly
long gone.  He secured the rifle to his saddle and held out his arm to
her.

"Take my hand."  He removed his foot from a stirrup.  "And get up
behind me."  When she hesitated, he said, "Deadwood doesn't bite."
Though he might he tempted.

For a moment Chase thought Kate would balk at the order, but apparently
she was more concerned about being alone on foot than about sacrificing
her autonomy.  She slipped her hand into his, stuck her boot in the
stirrup and bounced upward, swinging her free leg over Deadwood's
rump.

Her settling in behind him reminded Chase of a night they'd ridden out
into the wilderness together many years ago.

A night it shamed him to remember.

Wondering if Kate could possibly know the whole truth, he felt his
anger slip away.  And even if she'd remained in the dark all these
years, she still had good reason to distrust him.  Clucking, he moved
his horse back along the ravine the way he'd come.  Wrangler scampered
alongside them, every so often racing ahead and waiting for them to
catch up.

"So what were you doing out here?"  he asked, though he figured he
already knew.

"What are you doing out here on a horse?"  she countered.  "You told me
the mustangs would he scared off by anyone who was mounted."

"I wasn't here to check on the mustangs."  "Then what?"

"I couldn't sleep," he hedged.  Strictly speaking, he wasn't lying.
Thinking about how he'd planned to spend the wee hours before dawn had
kept him awake until it was time to leave.  "what about you?"

"Neither could I."

Chase didn't believe her for a moment.  The questions could wait, he
decided, not unaware of Kate's trembling against him despite her
argumentative attitude.  How could he miss it when she was pressed so
close that a sheet of paper wouldn't fit between them?  He shifted in
the saddle, trying to find some zone of comfort.

Taking an unauthorized tour of Lockridge Acres would have to wait.  He
really should throttle Kate for screwing up his plans.  Now, if she
knew the whereabouts of his horses, Thea Lockridge had another day to
cover.

When they reached the pickup, Wrangler jumped into the back and watched
as Chase helped Kate down, then quickly dismounted.  Not unaware of the
way she was eyeing him distrustfully, Chase tied Deadwood's reins to a
metal loop on the truck.  "I'm all right now," ; she said.  "Good."

"Then what are you planning on doing?"  "Driving."  "My pickup?"

"I don't see any other vehicles."  He grabbed his ri-He and slid behind
the wheel.  "What are you waiting for?"

Without further argument, Kate climbed in beside him.  Chase figured
she was more shaken up than she wanted to admit.  She'd always had
bravado--one of the many things he'd admired about her when they were
younger.  But whatever was going on at the refuge was serious
business.

And a little misplaced bravado could get Kate killed.

OING OVER AND OVER what she'd seen when her mind had merged with
Sage's, Kate kept her peace until Chase stopped the pickup and cut the
engine.  Startled back to reality, she felt disoriented.  She'd been
too preoccupied to pay attention to their route, although she had
noticed how uncharacteristically slowly Chase had been driving in
deference to his horse.  She glanced out the passenger window at a
solitary log cabin she'd never seen before.

"Where are we?"

Chase was already leaving the cab, her key ring in hand, when he said,
"Home."

His home, of course, not hers.

Not that she was in any big hurry to drive back to town alone--she was
still spooked and rightly so--Kate decided that not letting Chase boss
her around was a matter of principle.  She flew out the door, catching
up to him before he reached his horse.  She grabbed his arm to make him
pay attention.

"My keys?"

He slid them into his pocket.  "Later."

"Now."

Her mouth went dry with the challenge, which Chase was ignoring.  She
could feel his stare from beneath his hat brim.  Her pulse picked up a
beat.  "The flesh beneath her fingers burned as something other than
animosity flared between them.  She let go of his arm as fast as she
would a hot poker, the kiss that never should have happened clear in
her mind.

Why couldn't she just be immune to him?  Kate wondered.  What hold
could he possibly have over her after all these years?  After the way
he'd broken her heart?

Chase was the first to move away.  He untied Deadwood from the gate.
Pulse steadying, Kate watched him lead the dark gelding to a large
corral that held two other dozing horses.  In record time, he stripped
off his mount's saddle and bridle.  After checking the horse over to
make certain he'd cooled down, Chase turned him out.

And before he could catch her watching him, Kate spun around to pay
some attention to the dog, who'd quietly moved across the truck's bed
to be closer' to her.  She ruffled Wrangler's fur, then pulled a smelly
tidbit from one of her vest pockets.

"Do you believe that man's nerve, keeping us here against our will?" As
the dog eagerly took the treat from her hand and crunched away, she
said, "Thanks for coming to my rescue, roomie."

"What about me?"  Chase was directly behind her, his warm breath fan
fling her exposed neck.  "Don't I deserve your thanks, too?"

Quick as a flash, she spun around, at the same time palming another
liver-flavored biscuit.  "Right.  Thanks."  She offered him the dog
treat.

Again his expression was shadowed when he said dryly, "I'll pass," and
walked right on by her.  Fetching his rifle from the cabin, he headed
for the house.

Kate felt awful.  He really had come to her rescue, and how had she
repaid him?  First she'd accused him of using her for target practice.
And then she'd responded by mocking him.  Truth to tell, she wasn't in
a playful mood.  She was still spooked, and joking around was her way
of working out the stress.

Signaling Wraiagler to come with her, she followed Chase, but couldn't
quite work up an apology.  Instead, she asked, "So when do I get my
keys back?  I'd like to get some sleep, if you don't mind."

"My couch isn't too lumpy.  Or you could join me in bed."

His turn to mock her.

"My turn to pass."

The front door was open.  Chase flipped a switch and two pottery-based
table lamps came on, spreading a soft golden glow over the interior.
While sparsely furnished, the large combination living area kitchen was
inviting.  Pine cabinets and furniture, couch with colorful
Western-print cushions, creatively framed photographs of mustangs on
the walls.  So that Chase couldn't get too disturbingly close to her,
she chose the solitary leather chair.

Sinking into the seat that was nearly big enough for two of her, she
asked, "Now what?"  as Wrangler set-tied at her feet.

Chase set his rifle on his gun rack, then hung his hat and jacket on
pegs next to the door.  "Now suppose you do some talking.  What was
going on in that ravine?"

She'd figured he'd get around to interrogating her.  And she wanted to
talk about Doc's death.  But where to start?  If she told him she'd had
another vision, the joke might he on her.  and yet how could she keep
what she'd seen to herself merely because he was a skeptic?

Chanting Chase's derision, Kate said, "The stampede that killed Doc was
no accident."  And eyed him carefully for his reaction.

He sat on the couch arm.  " " Go on.  " His features were void of any
judgment.

"Sage and I shared a few thoughts tonight."  Tension mounting, she
turned inward, replayed the memory.  "It started like the last time...
the wild horses running scared... then I realized I wasn't part of the
stampede but separate from it."

Still expressionless, he asked, "How do you mean?"

"I saw as if from a distance," she explained, another image clarifying.
She took a big breath.  "I saw him ... Doc.  I--I think he was already
dead."  Her stomach turned as she remembered sharp hooves trampling the
body, boots dancing in the air.  "The thing was... Sage and her band
were still in the corral.  The horses I saw.  L their identification
the BLM freeze marks ran across their hindquarters."

"While the horses in Sage's band are all ID'd across their necks,"
Chase said slowly.

"Exactly."  Heart beginning to hammer as it had earlier, she went on.
"Sage was going nuts.  The other mares were pushing nd shoving.  I
flew..."  She caught herself before saying something foolish.  "I mean,
Sage flew upward and crashed her hooves into the fence boards.  I guess
the others did, too.  Then suddenly they were free... headed away from
the stampede-but not before I saw it."

"Saw what?"

Kate took a deep breath and conjured the memory that had stunned her.
"A stirrup ... a boot... a person's leg."  She stared directly at Chase
when she said, "The storm didn't spook those horses.  Something very
human did."

He didn't react.

Disappointed, Kate told herself she shouldn't have bothered.  Obviously
he didn't believe her.  But who else could she have told?  That the
sheriff would buy her story was even more unlikely.  Perhaps Nathan
Lantero was the only one she could trust to understand.

And so Chase's unexpected "Did you see the per son?"  made her catch
her breath.

"What?"

"The person who started the stampede?"

"You believe me?"

"I have reason to believe Doc's death was no accident myself," he said,
rising from the couch arm.  "Did see the

Her frustration dissolving, she shook her head.  "Everything was
happening so fast."

"But you're certain you saw a mounted rider?"

"Positive.  Chase, I don't have an overactive imagination and I'm not
crazy," Kate assured him.  "I realize you have more than a few
reservations, but"

"I believe you."  Chase stopped directly in front of her and stared, as
if trying to read her mind.  "At least part of me does."

"I suppose that's a start."

In truth, Kate was relieved that Chase was agreeable to being open, if
nothing more.  She knew he'd want to find the person responsible for
starting the stampede that killed Doc as much as she did.

"Now the question is, who else believes you?"  he asked, moving away.

"What do you mean?"

"Someone took more than one shot at you tonight"

"Or at the horses."  Though she'd already considered the possibility
that the gunman had been after her, Kate still didn't want to believe
it.

"The horses make bigger targets.  They're a damn sight harder to
miss."

"Maybe the shooter missed on purpose, because he only meant to scare me
off."

"But scare you off... Why?"

Chase's implication about someone else's believing her became clear. If
the person who'd started the stampede got wind of her intentions to
learn more details.  Suddenly shaky inside, Kate said, "Other than you,
the only person I talked to about what I saw this afternoon was
Nathan."

"Then he knew you meant to try again."  She nodded.  "He warned me
off."

" I4trned ?"

"Not like that.  He thought I should let it alone.  I guess he figured
I was obsessing over Doc's death.  At that point, I didn't think the
stampede was anything other than a terrible ftv, ak accident.  And I'm
certain Nathan was just trying to be a friend."

Appearing troubled, Chase said, "And you didn't say a word to anyone
else?"

"I didn't, but I suppose Nathan could have... or that volunteer who was
working with him.  I'm pretty sure she overheard."  She remembered the
young woman's avid expression.  "Most folks around here wouldn't take
the story seriously.  They'd say I was delusional or something."

Unfortunately she was used to a condescending attitude from the
citizens of Bitter Creek.  Even those who were satisfied with her
veterinary services made a joke of her m-called gift, often to her
face.

"But a smart miscreant wouldn't leave anything to chance," Chase
insisted.

Making Kate squirm.  "And what if no one was after me specifically? The
person who's been messing with the refuge could have been up to some
new dirty deed and didn't expect to run into company."

"You've got a point," he conceded.

Though he didn't sound convinced.  He was pacing as though the
continuous movement helped him think.

"What about you?"  Kate asked.  "You never did say how you found me."

"I already told you I was out riding because I couldn't sleep."

Chase avoided looking at her directly, making Kate think he was telling
only a half-truth.  Since Lock-ridge Acres adjoined that part of the
refuge, the spread immediately came to mind.  But if he planned to
check Thea's property for himself, why didn't he just admit as much?

"I heard a shot," Chase was saying.  "I was already heading in that
direction to investigate when Wrangler started to bark.  I found him in
the bed of your pickup.  He was anxious as hell to get out of there.  I
didn't figure you were the one doing the shooting, so I told him to
fetch you and I followed."

As if he knew the humans were talking about him, Wrangler sat up and
yawned.  Kate scratched the dog's head, muttering, "Fetch me, huh?  And
you're not convinced that I can talk to animals."

"I never said animals couldn't understand certain commands.  But I also
never said I could see inside the mutt's head."  He was towering over
her, his face pulled into a scowl.  "And don't try to make light of the
situation, Kate.  You could have gotten yourself killed."

"As if you would care."

"You really do think I'm heartless."

Even as she said, "You'd have to give me reason to think otherwise,"
Kate knew she was being unfair.

A man without a heart wouldn't be trying to protect a herd of mustangs
that many ranchers across the Western states thought of as worthless
pests who ruined the range for their cattle.  But she refused to take
the words back.  He had been heartless to her, years ago, when he'd
left town without a word.  And even now he didn't seem inclined to
offer any explanations.  Thinking about it made her angry all over
again.

And so when Chase ordered, "Don't pull another stunt like that," he
raised her hackles.  "Excuse me?  You're not my boss."

"This land is under my management!"

Popping out of the chair, Kate was practically nose to chin with Chase.
He didn't give her breathing room, so she' shoved by him, silently
cursing when the brief contact made the breath catch in her throat. His
following on her heels agitated her further.

But she stood her ground.  "So you're going to what if I don't agree?
Ban me from the refuge?  Turn down vet services you'll undoubtedly
need?"

His complexion ruddy, he said, "Don't make more of this than I
meafit."

"What did you mean

"To keep you from being mounted on a wall like one of Thea's
trophies."

The image clear in her mind, Kate shuddered.  And cooled down a bit.
The reference to Thea cinched her Lockridge Acres theory.  And he did
seem as though he cared what happened to her.  Or what would happen to
the refuge if there was another tragic accident, a cynical little voice
in her head countered.

Once more, his not-so-subtle insinuation struck her.  "Wait a minute.
You're making whoever's been messing with the refuge out to be a
murderer."

"Isn't that what we've just been talking about?"

Chase had said he had reason to believe Doc's death was no accident .
"Whoa.  I hadn't exactly gone there yet.  I was thinking more in terms
of someone running the horses off the property and Doc's being
unfortunate enough to get in the way."

"He probably was in the wrong place at the wrong time," Chase agreed.
"But if he recognized the rider and figured things out..."

She shook her head.  "Killing a man over some rustled horses--that
doesn't add up in my book."

"You're still the innocent, aren't you?  You don't expect the worst of
people because you don't have it in you to think that way."  Chase
sounded truly amazed.

Kate's mouth gaped open.  Innocent?  Still?  If she didn't know better,
she would think he was referring to her getting involved with him in
the first place.

"So I don't know what to think."  She took a big breath.  "Murder... I
guess we should alert the sheriff."

"And tell him Sage showed you Doc's death?"  "What, then?"

"We figure out who.  Find a way to prove it."

"I'm too tired to play detective right now," Kate protested, exhaustion
making every bone in her body feel heavy as lead.  Too much new
information was assaulting her, and she needed some time to assimilate
it all.  "I need sleep."

"Figuring things out can wait until tomorrow."  He indicated a spot
behind her.  "My bedroom's right through that door."

Not planning to join him, she muttered, "Don't start," even as her
imagination set' to work

Her in his bed.  his body curled around hers.  heat throbbing through
every limb.  "I was planning on taking the couch," he said, dashing the
fantasy before it had time to expand.

Her turn to look away from him.  "Does the door have a lock?"

"You're safe from me."

Her insides fluttered.  She wasn't any safer from Chase Brody than
she'd been all those years ago.  That was clear to her.  Since he
didn't give her a direct answer about the door, she checked for
herself.  The bolt worked fine.  The only problem was, she'd be able to
undo it .  Remembering the two ranches she needed to visit the next
day, she got a grip on herself.  "I have a long day ahead of me.  Do
you have a problem getting up with the sun?"

Chase checked his watch.  "In an hour and a half?  No, no problem.
Sleep is such a luxury, anyway."

She didn't miss the irony.  If he'd appeared tired to her earlier, he
now looked as exhausted as she felt.  Compassion for him Warred with
her good sense, and in the end, she said, "Make that three and a half
hours," and whistled for the dog.

Wrangler trotted straight into Chase's bedroom and Kate closed the door
behind him.

Running on empty wouldn't do either of them any good, especially not if
they expected to identify a murderer.

CHASE WAITED until he heard Kate slide the bolt into place before
locking the entry door and removing the rifle from its rack.  Turning
off the lights, he stretched out on the couch, setting the weapon
alongside him on the floor.

Not that he believed they were in for a direct attack.  Sneaking around
and taking potshots from behind a rock seemed more like the villain's
style.

But, just in case.  Sleep called his name, but when Chase closed his
eyes, Kate danced behind his lids.  Not the adult Kate, but the girl
he'd abandoned.  She'd never stopped haunting him.  Ironic.  He'd
always liked his employer's daughter--she'd never judged him--but when
he'd begun wooing her, it hadn't been his idea.

He and the Duran brothers had all been drunk the night they'd made the
wager.  Someone had called him "trailer trash" to his face, and he'd
been spoiling for a fight.  Buck and Gil had dragged him off, told him
to accept who he was.  Determined to prove them wrong--all of them,
including his so-called friends--he'd bragged that he'd have it all
someday.

A nice girl on his arm.  A great place to live.  Money lining his
pockets.

Gil had been the one to suggest he put his money where his mouth was.
The three of them had been working on the Farrell Ranch, Gil full-time
and Buck and him after school and on the weekends.  They all knew Kate
Farrell.  Gil said that if he could seduce her by the time he and Buck
graduated, he'd prove them wrong and win the bet.  Then he'd have both
the nice girl and the money.

Knowing fifteen-year-old Kate was a little sweet on him, anyhow, Chase
hadn't thought twice before accepting the wager.  Nor had he thought
about Kate's feelings if she ever learned why he'd spent months
courting her under her parents' worried eyes.  He'd enjoyed her
company, had watched her bloom as she'd fallen in love with him.

But even after their one night together, he hadn't consciously realized
how much Kate meant to him.

That she'd been a virgin was expected, and yet his taking that from her
on a bet had shamed him.  The next morning he'd been in a rotten mood
as he and the Duran brothers worked, putting in fence posts.  So when
Gil pulled out the whiskey bottle at lunch, Chase had indulged to dull
the pain.

Chase stared into the dark, remembering how he'd vowed never to tell
his friends he'd succeeded in seducing ICmte.

He'd decided to break it off with her, concede the bet and pay up.  He
hadn't cared about the money, but thinking about being without Kate in
his life made him drink past his tolerance level.

What had happened after that had made him pledge never to take another
drink.

And once he was on 'the road, he'd convinced himself he was acting in
Kate's best interests by not con-tatting her, but underneath he'd known
the truth: he was the coward she'd accused him of being.  He hadn't had
the guts to speak to her for fear he might spill out the truth.

He was still a coward, Chase thought, all hope of sleep gone.  There
was no explanation for his actions.  No forgiveness.  He wouldn't
expect it of her, even as he hadn't expected his punishment to come so
late and so sharp.

Though he'd been keeping himself from admitting as much, Chase knew he
was in love with Kate Farrell, and he guessed he had been all along.

Chapter Seven

Remembering she'd promised Ellen Weber she would help sort through her
father's things, Kate spent some time in Doc's study early the next
evening, going through stacks of papers, throwing away travel brochures
and junk mail.

So far that day, she'd ridden out to two ranches.  One of the owners
had some sick cows.  The other was new in the area and needed to talk
to her in depth before deciding whether or not he wanted a woman to vet
his animals.  It seemed he did.  She'd returned to her office only to
find a little girl waiting on the stoop, cradling a hurt cat in her
arms.  After which, she'd taken care of several routine visits.  She'd
even squeezed in a short but refreshing nap before showering and
getting ready to meet Chase.

Anxious, she checked the time.  Her watch informed her she still had an
hour to kill before she was to leave for Rowdy's Bar and Gruel where
she'd insisted he meet her to discuss who--other than Thea
Lockridge--had reason to want the refuge annihilated.  Chase had balked
at coming into Bitter Creek, but she'd figured it was time he got over
himself.  She'd been adamant and he'd reluctantly given way.  Though
she'd won this round, she still wondered why.

Because he wanted her cooperation in solving the identity of the
villain?

Or because he wanted her?

The speculation made Kate shift uncomfortably in her chair, especially
because she no longer knew what she wanted.

To distract herself from speculating, she picked up Doc's current
journal--he'd always kept notes about his patients over and above the
professional files in the office.  He not only wrote about their
medical conditions, but added his thoughts.  His intention, he'd told
her once, was to rite a book about his more interesting and humor otis
experiences with animals after he retired.

Another dream that had gone begging with his death.

Opening the leather-bound book to the last entry, she realized Doe had
made a notation the day he'd died.

Need to check on Sage and her band.  Still bamboozled about the source
of the virus.  With all the other things going on at the refuge, can't
help but wonder if someone didn't let a sick horse loose.  So Doc had
suspected.  A creepy feeling stole through Kate.

All day she'd avoided thinking about the events of the night before,
but with time to kill, she couldn't help it.  What if Chase had been
correct and the perpetrator had made sure Doc couldn't talk?  What if
the villain figured she knew too much?  Kate took a deep breath and
reminded herself that, while she'd been shot at, she hadn't been hurt.
She held on to the possibility that the person's intent had been to
scare her off, not kill her.

Wondering what other notes Doc had made about the situation, she paged
backward, eventually coming to an entry about one of his more unusual
patients.  A human being.  A volunteer on the refuge had been so
startled by the stallion charging him in mock challenge, that he'd
fallen over backward, managing to cut his hand on the fence.

A goofy accident, nothing serious.  Cleaned and bandaged the wound and
told the boy to stop wearing that perfume that aggravates the stallion
so much.

Chuckling, Kate remembered Doc telling her that was how he'd gotten his
nickname--by administering first aid to some of the townspeople and
recommending treatment for simple illnesses over the years.  Not that
he'd ever overstepped his bounds by dispensing prescription medication
or trying to take care of a serious condition.  But Bitter Creek was a
small town without a physician, and people were reluctant to make the
drive to find one unless the situation truly called for it.

A knock at the door surprised her.  Setting down the journal, she left
the study, wondering if Chase had chosen to meet her here, rather than
at the bar.  Opening the door gave her another surprise.

"Annie."

"Hi.  I was in town to buy groceries, and I decided to take a chance
that you'd be in.  I was hoping we could talk... if you're not too
busy."

Dark hair swinging along her cheek, Annie peered into the living room
as if making sure they were alone.

"I can spare a few minutes.  Come on in."  Kate led the volunteer
around several boxes she'd brought from her old quarters but had not
yet managed to unpack.  "Sorry about the mess.  I'm not even totally
moved in yet.  Can I get you something to drink?"

"No need."

Annie perched on the couch, and Kate took the threadbare chair that had
been Doc's favorite.

"So what's up?

"I need to talk, to you about Chase," Annie said without preamble. "I'm
worried sick about him."

Immediately on edge at the volunteer's possessive tone, Kate asked,
"How so?"

"He's worn-out with hard work and terrible stress.  I, uh, know about
the problems he's been having at the refuge.  He used to talk to me
about them.  But not lately and I don't understand why."  Expression
forlorn, Annie sighed.  "All of a sudden he's keeping his concerns to
himself, and I don't think that's good for him."

Considering her upcoming rendezvous with Chase, Kate squirmed inwardly.
He was talking to her now, and she didn't think Annie would appreciate
knowing that.  Kate was getting the distinct impression that Annie and
Chase had had something personal going until recently.  So what had
changed?  Her walking back into his life?

She tried placating Annie.  "He probably needs to think things through
himself."

"He's been doing that ever since Doc's death--such a terrible
accident."

Kate had to hold herself back from contradicting Annie.  Until she and
Chase had more to go on, they'd agreed to keep their suspicions to
themselves.  And she certainly didn't want whoever had been shooting at
her to make a more serious effort to shut her up.

So all she said was, "Doc's death was terrible, all right."

"I guess you were pretty close to him."

"Since I was a kid.  I became a vet because of Doc.  He was my
mentor."

"Sorry."  Hardly taking a breath, Annie swiftly turned the conversation
around.  "As I was saying, Doc's death really affected Chase.  And now
those horses vanishing into thin air haven't helped things."

"He's not too happy," Kate agreed.

"Of course not."  A strange glint in her normally soft blue eyes, Annie
asked, "So what does he think is going on?"

Kate realized Annie was pumping her for information, as though she felt
she had a stake in Chase and was afraid of being replaced.  Kate wanted
to tell the pretty volunteer she had nothing to worry about in the
personal department, but the words wouldn't come.

"I guess you'd have to ask Chase what he's thinking, Annie.  Though so
many things have gone wrong lately, it would be difficult for anyone to
believe it's all coincidence."

"There are some people around here who'd like to see the refuge
fail."

"Like Thea Lockridge."

"Not just her.  Other folks... including Nathan."  Startled, Kate
asked, "What about Nathan?"

"He thinks the Lakota have a right to the land."

Something Kate hadn't realized.  She wondered if Chase had.  "He
actually told you that?"

"Not anything about the refuge failing.  But one day we were talking
about the pictographs on the limestone bluffs.  That's when Nathan said
the land was sacred to his people and that they'd lost out on their
chance to reclaim it."

Which made Kate wonder exactly how resentful Nathan Lantero might be.
And if he felt so strongly about the issue, why would he have gone to
work for Chase?

Unless being part of the refuge staff suited some dark purpose .  As a
kid, Nathan hadn't been able to contain his jealousy of her because of
the attention she received from Delbert.  He'd found numerous ways to
get even, though she had to admit he'd been pretty straightforward
about his animosity.  He'd never sneaked around behind her back, rather
had always challenged her to her face.  Besides which, she'd thought
Nathan had gotten over his )/outhful insecurity and had reformed his
ways.

But what if he hadn't?

What if he was getting even with Chase because of hard feelings over
the land?  Kate hated the thought, but she couldn't banish it.

"Have you told Chase what Nathan told you?"  ; The other woman's blue
eyes went wide.  "I wasn't implying that Nathan was guilty of anything!
I just meant that not everyone thinks so much land being used to let
some old mustangs run free is 'the right purpose.  I personally can't
see it being used for any else.

And now that she'd done some exploring herself, had formed a tenuous
bond with Sage's band, neither could Kate.  "I understand you've
volunteered to work on the refuge three summers in a row.  That's very
dedicated."

"After teaching remedial-reading to a bunch of unruly teenagers the
rest of the year, coming out here is a breath of fresh air.  I think of
my time around the wild horses as a vacation for my soul."

The horses?  Or Chase himself?

They talked for a few more minutes before Annie departed, leaving Kate
wondering about her true purpose for dropping by in the first place.
While she'd expressed an appropriate amount of concern about Chase in
relation to the refuge, Annie hadn't made any suggestions about lifting
his burden.  Nor had she asked for counsel.

Leaving Kate with the distinct impression that Annie had been trying to
feel her out to see what was going on between her and Chase.

If only she had an answer.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD got into Chase?"  Buck mused.  "He never comes into
town."

"Unusual," Merle agreexl, blowing cigarette smoke at him.  "Maybe he's
taken leave of his senses.  Too much responsibility can do that to a
person."

"Can't say I feel sorry for him," Buck muttered,

turning his attention to his beer.

Neither did Merle.

Propped on a stool in Rowdy's Bar and Gruel, she glanced at the table
across the room where Chase sat alone.  After nodding to them when he'd
entered a few minutes ago, he'd parked himself in the shadows.  His hat
rode low on his forehead as if he'd meant the wide brim to hide him
from the other patrons.  As usual, he was nursing a mug of coffee,
instead of something more potent.

She remembered a long-ago time when he'd been fun and full of the
devil.  My, my, how life had changed him.

Then again, look what life had done to her.

Her insides clutching, Merle took a long drag on her cigarette and
turned her attention away from Chase to a closer table where Thea
Lockridge held court like some kind of queen bee.  What a piece of work
that bitch was--bringing her California money to Bitter Creek so she
could ruin it for the people who'd lived here all their lives.

Three strangers accompanied the blonde, all city-slick men dressed like
dime-store cowboys.  No doubt they were searching for a piece of the
authentic West, and Thea had brought them to Rowdy's for the atmosphere
and greasy burgers.  Smoke-filled, thin walls vibrating with a. twangy
country tune, decorated in Formica, vinyl and chrome, floors strewn
with sawdust to absorb liquor spills and splatters off the grill, this
dump was as authentic as it got.

Merle's gaze settled on the youngest of Thea's companions.  The
dark-haired man was of special interest to her, not because he was
particularly good-looking, but because his well-muscled body made her
thighs quake.  She'd get to him eventually--anticipation was part of
the fun.  Meanwhile she'd enjoy admiring him from afar.

Buck's poking her in the arm disrupted her fantasies.  "Uh-oh.  Look
who just walked in."

Merle spun around on her stool as Kate Farrell crossed to Chase's
table.  Without moving his butt off his chair, Chase indicated she
should sit.  The vet tossed her ponytail, plunked herself down and
signaled the waitress.  But their casual attitudes didn't fool her. The
sparks between them were obvious to anyone with eyes to see.

Buck edged closer.  "What do you think they're up to?"

So maybe Buck was a little dense.  Shaking her head, Merle gave him a
sideways look.

"Getting rid of some of that stress he's been under.  Not that it'll do
him any good in the long run.  Chase is too spooked by all those horses
up and disappearing to let it alone.  I figure he means to find out
what happened to them no matter what it takes."

"Good luck to him, then," Buck muttered.  "For all he knows, the sky
coulda opened up and they all rode straight into heaven."

Someday, Merle thought, the ground would open and issue Chase an
invitation in the other direction.

Though she'd like to hide her feelings, she couldn't help but glare at
him and Kate.  Why should he have everything when she was left with
nothing?  His fault she was alone.  His fault she turned out like her
mother.

Deciding she didn't want to wait, after all, Merle crushed the
remaining life out of her cigarette.  "Lis ten, Buck, I'll catch you
tomorrow."

"You going home?"

"Yep."  Merle winked.  "Eventually and not alone."  Opening another
shirt button to reveal the hollow between her small breasts, water
falling her newly washed silky hair over one shoulder, she sidled over
to

Thea Lockridge's table.  Standing slightly behind the blond beehive,
she set a hand on her waist, stuck out her hip and stared at the
dark-haired young man until he noticed her.  Definitely appreciative.

"Hey, stranger, know how to Texas two-step?"

"No, ma'am," he said, rising, "but I been told I'm a fast learner."  He
took her elbow.  "I'm Hank."

Merle smiled and glanced over at Chase's table.  He and the vet seemed
to be arguing about something.  Maybe Chase wouldn't be relieving his
stress tonight, after all.

But she would.  Hank's coming home with her would make her feel a whole
lot better.  And while she and the dime-store cowboy were setting off
the fires of passion, she'd imagine Chase beating off the fires of
hell.

No more than he deserved for ruining her life.

WATCHING MERLE HF.  "AD for the small dance floor with Thea's friend
disgusted Chase.  Bad enough she let the locals take advantage of her.
But another land grabber?  He'd like to have a serious talk with her,
but he didn't think she'd appreciate advice on her love life from
him.

The waitress broke into his thoughts, setting down a beer in front of
Kate and refilling his coffee.  "Your food'll be up in a minute,
hon."

"Thanks, Ina."  Kate sipped her beer and barely waited for the waitress
to turn her back before saying, "About last night.  You were tiding to
Lockridge Acres to look for the mustangs, weren't you?"

Startled by the accusation, he glowered at her.  "Watch your mouth,
woman."

' Excuse me?  "

FatricU Rosemoor

He shot a glance at Thea a few tables away, but she and her companions
were intent on their conversation.  "Keep your voice down.  You want
everyone to hear?"  '

Appearing smug, Kate said, "Then I was right.  Are you going to try
again?  Tonight?"

Her questions were getting his hack up.  "Whatever I do is my
business."

"I'm going with you."

His mouth got the better of him.  He said, "And put yourself in
possible danger," before realizing he'd confirmed her suspicions.

"Big deal.  I don't even know if I'm safe in my own bed anymore."

"That's easily enough taken care of."  He tried to rattle her.  To make
her think twice about going with him.  "You don't have to sleep
alone."

Kate narrowed her gaze when she said, "And I'm sure you'll be happy to
volunteer."

"I was thinking of Wrangler.  Good watchdog."  He was only half-serious
about the dog, and if Kate's heightened color was any indication, she
knew it.  She tried to hide behind her beer mug.

The blush softened her, made her prettier, reminded him of the first
time he'd kissed her.  She'd blushed then, too.  After which, she'd
kissed him back.  How the hell it was possible to remember was a
mystery to him, but he recalled every detail as if the eighteen years
that had passed since had been no more than eighteen days.

Chase resigned himself to taking Kate with him when he rode onto
Lockridge Acres later that night.  She had his number.  And he had
hers.  She would be safer with him than following him, as he had no
doubt she would.  By involving her more directly, he could at least
keep his eye on her, could protect her from running headlong into
danger.

"All right.  You can come with me.  As long as I'm in charge.
Agreed?"

He figured it irked her to say, "Agreed," rather than arguing the fine
points.  "Why?"  she added.

Recognizing that suspicious narrowing of her eyes, he said, "Because I
know how you felt about Doe."

He'd liked the old man, too.  And considering Doc's death had something
to do with him, Chase felt the need to learn who was responsible for
that stampede.  On the other hand, Kate's emotions were tied up in the
situation.  She'd loved the old man like a father, something Chase had
trouble relating to.  He hadn't had so much as a sorrowful thought when
he'd heard his old man had died.

' Kate shoved the past aside, saying, "We're getting off the
subject."

"I didn't know we'd started."

"Now's as good a time as any.  Let's start with Annie's unexpected
visit a little while ago."

"Don't tell me you're suspicious of her.  She has nothing at stake."

"But Nathan Lantero does."

"Nathan?"

"Annie said he told her the refuge was sacred to his people."

"I heard the Lakota wanted the land and that my deal with the governor
didn't make them happy," Chase admitted, "but I didn't know Nathan felt
one way or the other about it."

"Annie seemed to think he did, although she quickly assured me she
didn't mean to imply that Nathan was guilty of anything."

"All the same, she came to see you to tell you about it."

"Uh, not exactly.  We were talking about a different issue before we
got onto the subject of who might be happy to see the sanctuary closed
down,"

Chase sensed she'd just skipped over something he should know about. He
was tempted to worm the information out of her, but he was too tired to
wear her down.  He had to trust that, if it was important, Kate would
tell him.

"Here you go, hon."  Ina stood over them with two plates in hand.  They
moved their drinks and the waitress set down their burgers and fries.
"Anything else I can get you?  Another beer?"

Kate shook her head.  "I'm fine."

"Nothing for me," Chase said, his juices flowing at the first whiff.
Not used to having supper so late, he was extremely hungry.  He took a
big bite of his burger and washed it down with coffee.

"I'll leave the tab, then," the waitress said.  "Holier when you're
ready to pay.  No rush."

Chase continued eating like the starving man he was.  When the record
on the jukebox ended, he glanced over at the dance floor.  Merle had
herself wrapped around the wannabe cowboy.  Neither of them seemed to
notice the lack of music.  And when the next tune started up, a
throaty-voiced woman wailing about a lost love, he looked away.

Picking at her food, Kate was staring at him, her hunger all in her
eyes.  He imagined asking her to dance.  Imagined feeling her hand in
his as they made their way to the dance floor.  Imagined holding her
close.  Smelling her hair.  Feeling her flesh pressed against his as
they barely moved to the music, but got in tune with each other.  He
swallowed hard and warned himself not to repeat past mistakes.  But he
was hard-pressed to obey.

He had to force himself back to the subject.  "Where were we?"

Kate blinked and swallowed a mouthful of nothing.  "Nathan," she choked
out.

Making Chase believe he hadn't been doing all the imagining on his
own.

"Right," he sai.  "guess we should be aking a close look at anyone who
has anything to do with the refuge, not to mention anyone who
bad-mouths the land usage."  His gaze strayed to the man hunkered over
the bar now that Merle had deserted him.  "Or anyone who has reason to
dislike me personally.  Buck, for one."

"I did think it was a little weird that he was working for you."

"Being lame in an area of the country where most jobs depend on a
body's being fit is a serious drawback.  Considering my part in what
happened to Buck, !  couldn't turn him down when he came to me for work
this spring."

Chase glanced over at the bar again even as Buck pivoted on his stool
and waved someone over.  Whit Spivey had just walked through the door.
A mean smile cracking his leathery face and showing off his rotting
teeth, Spivey joined Buck and signaled the bartender to give them both
drinks, the unexpected camaraderie giving Chase a peculiar feeling.
He'd never noticed the men being particularly friendly with each other
before.

What had changed?

Kate interrupted the thought, saying, "Buck does seem to have put the
past behind him.  And then there's Doc.  Buck wouldn't kill the man who
saved his life."

Only half listening, Chase frowned.  "When did this happen?"

Giving him a strange look in return, she said, "The accident."

Something Chase couldn't forget.  But he wasn't aware of what had gone
on after he'd made it to the barns.  He'd hightailed it out of there
the moment he'd heard Buck blaming him.  He'd been used to being a
scapegoat, and his fear had been stronger than his re morse.

"What did Doc have to do with anything?"  he asked, the words turning
to glue in his mouth.

"He was tending to some livestock on the ranch that day.  Buck might
have lost his foot and more if Doc hadn't acted quickly and rode with
him to the hospital.  The surgeon said he saved Buck's leg."

"He's still a cripple."

"He has a limp and a scar.  Lots of people deal with worse.  His limp
might limit his job availability, but that doesn't stop him from
leading a normal life."

"Can't see much normal about it."  The burger suddenly tasted like
cardboard.  He set the last of it down.  "A grown man working a job for
a kid's wages and grateful for the chance at that."  Not that he
wouldn't pay the man a decent wage if he could.  "Plus everyone likes
him and I don't figure he's hard on the eyes to females, yet he's never
been married."

"What about you?  You could be describing yourself."

"You're saying people like me, or that I'm not hard on the eyes?"

"I'm saying you've made choices just as Buck has.  You work for no
wages and you're not married, either."

"Sure about that} are you?"

Her mouth gaped open a moment, long enough for him to envision kissing
it.  From there his thoughts strayed to other parts of her he'd like to
taste.  He really couldn't keep his mind where it belonged when he was
around Kate.

"Are you married?"  she demanded.

Making him ihink his answer mattered to her.  "Nope."

"Have you ever been?"

"Nope."

"You're not telling me you've sworn off women, are you?"

He had to grin.  "Nope."

"Then what?"

The simple truth.  "They weren't you."  Confusion warred with
embarrassment and maybe anger.  Suddenly Kate couldn't look at him.
Chase readied himself for more accusations, but she said nothing, only
concentrated on her food.

In a better mood himself, he finished his meal, then signaled Ina that
he was ready to pay.

But was he ready to start something with Kate that he figured he
couldn't finish?  Certain he would have heard her thoughts on the
subject by now if she knew the whole truth about the past, Chase had no
doubt

Kate wouldn't take it kindly.  And with the past still between them,
they had no hope for the future.

If they had a future to look for, yard to, Chase reminded himself.  His
racing hormones and romantic notions would have to take a back seat to
a more pressing dilemma.

Finding a murderer and staying alive while they did

SO.

Chapter Eight

Having rested for a few hours at Chase's place before setting off on
their midnight exploit, Kate felt positively energized by the time they
left the cabin.  Chase, too, had slept some, though he was more grouchy
than refreshed.  Giving him time to mellow out, she trailed along
behind him to the corral gate.

The first to wake, she'd caught him flat on his back on the couch, as
unmoving as a dead man.  His exhaustion apparent, she'd hated to
disturb him.  Indeed, she hadn't for a few minutes, rather had gotten
her fill of staring at him.

With his features relaxed, thick black lashes brushing his broad
cheekbones, he was almost classically handsome.  Asleep and without
responsibility pressing down on him, he possessed a boyish quality she
remembered all too well.  Though she stopped herself from touching the
unfamiliar scar above his right cheekbone, she couldn't force back a
fleeting memory of another night--the only other time she'd watched him
dream.

As much for her own peace of mind as for the mission, she'd awakened
him.

And a cup of coffee later, he was ready to roll.

Leading one of the horses from the corral, Chase said, "Her name's
Calamity."

His dark shirt was buttoned to his neck and he wore a jacket against
the cool night.  The red roan rolled her eyes and lipped the denim of
his sleeve until he scratched her nose from its soft tip to the middle
of her forehead.  Then he handed the lead to Kate.

"She has a mind of her own and can get into trouble if you don't keep a
firm grip on her."  Turning away, he mumbled, "L'fice some women I
know," loud enough for her to hear.

"I suspect Calamity and I Will get along like old friends," Kate
assured him.

To be certain, she spent a few moments bonding with the mustang,
whispering in her ear and finding her sweet spots.  The roan blew
softly against Kate's favorite light wool jacket, its design of
silhouetted horses running across a background the same blood-red as
her shirt.  She silently visited with Calamity until she was positive
they were on the same wavelength.

And for once, she and Chase seemed to be on the same wavelength, too,
Kate thought, bridling the mare.

Wondering at how easily he'd given in to her accompanying him, she
wasn't about to question the opportunity.  Chase might be making a
valiant attempt at running the refuge single-handedly, but perhaps he
was finally overwhelmed by so much pressure.

He did seem to feel the need to be in charge of everything, Kate mused
as she smoothed the blanket across Calamity's withers and set the
saddle in place.  "Ready?"  Chase asked, riding up alongside her.  Kate
fastened the cinch.  "If you are."

But her thoughts continued in the same vein as they cut across the
refuge toward Lockridge Acres.  His need to be in control seemed to
permeate every corner of his life, as illustrated by the set-to they'd
had upon leaving Rowdy's.

"Why wouldn't you let me pay for supper?"  she asked, remembering how
irritable he'd been when she'd suggested be' let her take care of the
check.

"I pay my own way."

"You paid mine, too," she reminded him.

"A burger and a beer won't break me."

"Big words from a man who doesn't take a salary for his work."

"I said I didn't take a salary.  I never said I was broke."

Not the first time he made her curious about the source of his folding
money.

"So what did you do?  Win big at poker or something?"

"Or something," he agreed.

Figuring he'd get all wound up again if she hounded him, she didn't
press him and so was surprised when he continued.

"When my uncle died, he left me a stake in his ranch.  I didn't figure
it was fair to my cousins, so I refused to horn in on their
inheritance.  They figured I earned a share, and since I wouldn't take
the land, they set up a bank account.  Not enough to save the refuge,
but enough for me to get along on."

That he confided in her pleased Kate.  Made her think that, with time,
he'd tell her other, more important details about the past.

After that, they rode mostly in silence.  Listening to the occasional
whinny of mustangs, the distant call of coyotes, the quiver of
broad-leaved trees in the wind, Kate didn't mind.  In tune with nature,
she was for the moment content.

They approached the Lockridge place from a different direction than the
one they'd taken the day before.  The panorama spread before them was
different, too: acre after acre of wilderness with no sign of human
intervention except for the fencing.

Eventually a gate appeared, and Chase hopped down.  From a saddlebag,
he produced the tools to cut the chain.  Rather than leaving the
evidence of their break-in in plain sight, he carried the broken chain
a few dozen yards away and tucked it under a clump of tall squirrel
tail Even knowing they could be arrested for trespassing didn't raze
Kate.  Her anticipation of what they might find was growing by the
minute.

Once inside, they sought out the stretch of land broken by ravines and
small canyons that they'd seen through the binoculars.  Another half
mile or so and they halted on a small rise in the shelter of some
ponderosa pine.

"Let's make sure we don't have company before riding out into the
open," Chase said.

Since they'd left the refuge, an occasional cloud had scudded across
the night sky, blocking the moon and throwing a deep impenetrable
shadow over the land.  At the moment, however, all was clear. Moonbeams
limned the inert expanse before them with a silver glow.

"As long as the clouds cooperate, we'll he able to spot anything that
moves," Kate said.

"The same goes for anyone else around... so don't get sloppy."

Knowing Chase had her best interests at heart, she chose not to take
offense.  Normally an easygoing person, she'd been quick to anger
around him--due, she was certain, to their history.  She needed to get
beyond that.

But how could she when other responses to him came too naturally for
her comfort?  Like that moment in Rowdy's when people and sounds had
receded, leaving her alone with Chase and familiar feelings she hadn't
wanted to consider.  More and more, she was being sucked backward to a
time when her heart had been' whole and anything had been possible.
When her mind hadn't been touched by doubt and fear.

She'd had year to harden herself to him.  In a matter of days, he was
breaking down her barriers.  What to do?

"Follow me," Chase said, taking Deadwood down a sloping path into the
first of a series of ravines cut only by a trickle of water.

Follow him.

Once she wold have followed him anywhere.  She'd understood fear and
his feelings of inadequacy had made him run, rather than face the
horror of that accident.  If he had asked, she would have run with him
to the ends of the earth, naive fifteen-year-old that she'd been.
Deadwood's whinny drew a responding squeal from

Calamity and jarred Kate out of the past.  "Whoa," Chase ordered
softly.

His mount danced to one side.  Hers nervously backed up, throwing her
head and snorting in displeasure.

"What is it?"  Kate whispered, for she saw nothing alarming.

"Got me."

They both dismounted and drew their horses into the shelter of some
rocks and brush even as a cloud stole across the moon.  Absolute dark
prevailed, and within the womb like texture of the night, the mustangs
remained disquieted.  Kate felt her way between them, and with steady
hands and an unspoken solve, coaxed them into remaining silent.

Gradually the inky blackness lifted, and Kate could see that Chase was
on the alert.

Then he looked her way and shook his head.  "Don't see or hear
anything."

Stroking Calamity's neck, Kate closed her eyes and gleaned a quick
impression.

She wrinkled her nose and said, "The smell.  The horses don't like the
stench of this place."  Uneasy, she met Chase's gaze.  "Fetid... like
death."

He looked disturbed and seemed to be searching inside her.  Seconds
passed without her taking a breath.  Then, apparently satisfied she
wasn't being unnecessarily melodramatic, he nodded and she was able to
breathe normally once more.

"How do you do that?"

She shrugged.  "I can't explain it.  Picking up impressions is
something I've always done without thinking..  Delbert Lantero's the
one who taught me to go deeper.  To communicate with animals on a more
interactive level."

He shook his head.  "What I wouldn't give to have that gift."

"And there've been times in my life I would've gladly given it away."

"Why?"

"Because it m,qde me different."

If Chase had any thoughts on the matter, he didn't offer them--maybe
because he, too, had been apart from the crowd, if in a disparate
way.

I-Ie sniffed the air and shook his head.  "Could be a ccugar, from the
horses' reaction.  The smell's not obvious to us, so whatever it was
probably has been dead for some time.  We should move on."

They remounted and picked their way deeper into the series of twisting
ravines and blind canyons, tumbling with rock formations and crumbling
outcrops.  Vegetation flourished in the area despite the low water flow
of a drier-titan-usual summer.  Kate realized a partially overgrown
path ran mere yards from the stream bed.  Vehicles had been through
here, so the area must be used.  But for what purpose?

Every so often, their horses renewed their protest, but neither balked.
Their willingness to continue eased Kate's mind about any imminent
danger.  Unfortunately, however,-while she tuned in to the frequent
scurry of smaller wildlife around them, she had no sense of other
horses nearby.  And even if she and Chase missed the signs, she knew
their mounts would pick out any fellow mustangs.

It wasn't until they'd gone deep into the heart of the natural maze
that she caught sight of a clearing and a man-made structure. "Look."

Apparently Chase had already seen, for he was heading toward the large
animal pen that stood empty.  Once there, he rose in his stirrups and
scanned the surrounding area.

"What the hell!"  he growled, pointing.

Kate glanced behind her to a steel-barred enclosure sheltered by a
small stand of birch.  "A cage?"

As they moved closer to the cage, both horses began dancing,
protesting, throwing up heads with eyes rolling.  Before she had a
chance to figure out what exactly had them so hot and bothered, Kate
heard the roar of an engine from the path they'd just traveled.
"Someone's coming!"

They scurried for cover, finding a clear pocket behind an amalgamation
of rocks matted with virgin's bower and surrounded by taller growth.
They leapt to the ground, their footfalls deadened by short grasses.
Chase slipped his rifle from his saddle, leaving the horses to her
care.

As the roar of the engine drew closer, Kate touched the mustangs,
cleared her mind and concentrated on relaying calm and safety to the
hyper animals.

Quiet.  no need for alarm.  settle down.  that's the way.  The words,
if spoken, would be meaningless, though a gentle reassuring tone might
have gotten through to them.  But her physical connection and unspoken
language worked faster and more thoroughly.  As if hypnotized, both
horses set fled down and relaxed.

Kate could only wish she was equally at ease, especially when the
vehicle stopped nearby and she heard doors open and several people
exit.

"Here we are--the staging area," Thea Lockridge announced, a definite
edge to her voice.

Thea must have brought her friends from Rowdy's for some late-night
excursion.  Pulse lurching, Kate grew alarmed.  What in the world did
the blonde expect to show anyone in the dark?  Or were their intentions
more sinister?

Unsure of what they'd stumbled into, Kate shivered and drew closer to
Chase, thankful he was armed.

HE WAS CERTAIN that bringing the men to her special place would close
the deal.  On the drive over, she'd tantalized therfi with
possibilities.  If the other amenities hadn't induced the thrill
seekers to buy into her private enterprise, this should be the frosting
on the cake.

Chocolate frosting, she amended, as a cloud slid in front of the moon
and their world went dark.

"Hey, who turned off the lights?"  Sam complained.

Thea laughed at the big man's petulant tone.  "This isn't the city.  No
glow of skyline lights.  When it gets dark out here, it's for real."
Hoping to excite them, she lowered her voice and let it throb.  "Danger
could lurk anywhere--even behind you--and you wouldn't know it."

"We could use those fancy gadgets the army developed for " Nam.  "
Rather than being excited in a positive way, Larry sounded nervous.  "
You know, the binoculars that let you see in the dark.  " "
Night-vision goggles, idiot.  " " I'll idiot you"

"Now now, boys," Thea soothed.  "No fighting.  Save Your primal
energies for more productive activities.  Actually we do have several
pairs of night-vision goggles and binoculars.  You can't miss a thing
with those babies."

Sounding relieved, Larry said, "So let's try them out ."  '

"We'd have to return to the gun room at the compound."

"Forget it," Sam groused.  "We go back to the house and I'm in bed."

The moon slid from behind the clouds and Thea went on with her sales
pitch.  "As you may have noticed, the area is suitably secluded"

"Hank should be here."  Larry sounded disgusted.  "Too bad he let
himself get distracted."

"There's no accounting for taste," a disappointed Thea said.  "I would
have thought a man of Hank's caliber would be a bit more discerning
than to pick up a whom.  However, as long as he doesn't talk in his
sleep..."

Larry snorted.  "Who says Hank'll be sleeping with her?"

Both men laughed and smacked each other on the back.  Wincing, Thea
tried to remain philosophical.  Too much to expect that the creatures
drawn to her concept would be as sophisticated as their polished
exteriors implied.  What did she care?  Her interest was in the green
of their money.

A nearby scuffle and thunk followed by a shushing of grass put her on
the alert.  "Shh."  Pulse thrum ming, she pricked up her ears and
listened.  "Probably some animal," Sam said.

"Some wild animal."  Larry sounded nervous again.  But Thea wasn't so
certain.  The hair on the back of her neck prickled in warning.  She
could have sworn the source was a horse.  But none of the horses should
be here now.

When the noise wasn't repeated, she chose not to make a big deal in
front of potential buyers.  No need to alert them, especially when it
was probably a false alarm.  Just in case, though, she would put the
cell phone in the truck to good use and call her foreman.  Once alerted
that some horse might be too se he'd have a select handful of men
checking over the area in no time.

To that end, she suggested, "Why don't we go back to the house for a
nightcap?"

The friends agreed, but as they climbed into the truck Sam asked, "How
can we be certain our privacy would be protected?"

"I run a discreet operation.  And I have a business relationship with
the right people.  But as a further safeguard, I plan to buy adjoining
property," she said, thinking of the reft/ge.

Thea knew she had to be careful how she handled things so as not to
raise suspicions, but she was determined to get her hands on that
land.

One way or another.  CHASE EXPELLED a Ion.  g-held breath as Thea's
four-wheel drive high re iled it out of the clearing.  "That was close.
I thought Calamity was going to give us away."

"My fault," Kate admitted.  "I should have stayed with them.  Sorry."

He hadn't been sorry she'd sought his comfort.  Instinctively she'd
moved close to him, had touched him without self-consciousness.  And
even in their tense situation, her very nearness had distracted him
until Calamity had gotten restless.  Kate had responded instantly,
however, quieting the roan with her magic.  Amazing.

She handed over Deadwood's reins and they moved back into the open.
Certain she wouldn't be appreciative now that the threat of danger had
passed, he fought the urge to wrap a protective arm around her.

"Why do you think Thea brought those men out here?"  she asked, an edge
to her voice.

"To close some real-estate deal."

"Okay, but why in this place and why at night?"  Good question.  One he
couldn't answer.  Just as he couldn't say for sure what the enclosure
and cage were doing in the middle of nowhere.  He could make an
intelligent guess, though, and that made his stomach churn.

"I really don't like this."

"Neither do I."  Kate took a long look at the cage, then at him.
Forehead furrowed, she said, "Tell me what you're thinking."

Chase inhaled deeply and went over the facts as he saw them.  "The
place is purposely secluded.  Our horses have weird reactions to the
area, due, as you said, to the smell of death.  Then we find this large
animal pen, not to mention a cage.  And Thea talks about night-vision
goggles."

"Remember the animal trophies decorating her home?"  Kate waited a
beat, then, "Illegal hunts?"

Their minds were in tune.  Not that Chase was surprised.  He'd always
given Kate credit for smarts.  "We don't have proof."

"Even if we did, what could we do about it?  She spoke of having a
business relationship with the right people--undoubtedly Thea was
indicating she has the law in her pocket."

"Pocketbook," Chase amended.

"So what do we do?"

"Put our suspicions on hold until we have time to deal with them.  The
mustangs are still missing," he reminded her.  "And Doe Weber is still
dead."

KATE HAD WALRJD to Rowdy's Bar and Gruel and ridden to the refuge with
Chase, so she had no choice but to let him see her home.  Truth be
told, she was glad for the company, even if she didn't feel much like
talking.  Their trek had spooked her good, and the reminder of Doc's
death preyed on her mind.

By the time they arrived in Bitter Creek, she suspected dawn wasn't far
from creeping over the horizon.  She glanced at Chase, who seemed to be
fighting to stay awake, and was concerned that he'd fall asleep at the
wheel on the return drive.

That was why, when he pulled up in front of the house, she said, "You'd
probably better come in and get some shut-eye before heading hack."

"And shock your neighbors when they see the Bronco parked outside your
door?"

"Neighbors" was a bit of an exaggeration, considering the Weber home
stood at the far end of town where houses were on properties big enough
to graze riding stock.

"I'll take the chance.  And you won't even have to sleep on the couch."
Thinking of the empty rooms in the old house, she added, "You can have
your pick of beds."

She wasn't ready for his "There's only one bed I'm interested in."

Kate flushed and her insides stirred at Chase's intimate tone.  Maybe
he wasn't as tired as she'd assumed.  Too late to rescind her
invitatiom And she was too emotionally worn-out to think of a clever
response that would make light of the tension that lay between
them--if, at times, it was hiding below the surface.

"Come in if you can behave yourself," she said bluntly.

When she left the truck, he did likewise.

Spending so much time with Chase was beginning to feel normal--even if
the circumstances were anything but.  Kate knew that backing up and
getting out of her commitment was the only way to protect herself.  But
that was impossible.  She'd gotten in too deep.  Any peace she gained
would be tempered by an overwhelming guilt.  Too much remained at stake
for her to think only of herself.

Doe's death.

The fate of the mustangs.

The well-being of anyone else who discovered the truth.

A mature adult, Kate decided she could deal with whatever curves the
Fates threw her way in regard to Chase Brody.  She would have to
concentrate on her priorities.

To that end, they were barely inside the front door before she asked
him, "Do you think Doc could have known what was going on at Lockridge
Acres?"

She stooped to rough up a yawning Wrangler who'd been sleeping near the
entrance waiting for her return.

"He didn't say a word to me."

"Me, neither."

Though Kate wondered if he'd entered any thoughts on the subject in his
journal.  Something to check on.

With a sharp whistle, she indicated the dog could go out, then waited
for him in the doorway.

"If he suspected," she went on, "what if he faced Thea and threatened
to blow the whistle on her?"

"Doc was smarter than that.  Besides, he was killed on refuge property.
Our villain came to him.  More likely stumbled on him in the process of
removing the mustangs and used the situation to keep Doc from
talking."

Wrangler trotted bdck inside.  Kate closed the door and moved toward
the living room.  Sliding out of her jacket, she tossed the garment on
a stack of her unpacked boxes.  Her mind lingered on the stampede.  On
the drive home, she'd gone over and over the memory she'd shared with
Sage, but she hadn't come up with anything more telling.

"You're not saying Thea couldn't be responsible, are you?"  she
asked.

"Not at all.  But at this point, let's not exclude anyone else.  As far
as I'm concerned, everyone is suspect until we get some kind of
proof."

He had a point.  Even if Thea were up to some illegal activity on her
own property--added to her determination to buy a good portion of
refuge land--that didn't make her guilty of murder.

"Still, Thea's a vile woman."  Turning on a single table lamp to low,
Kate dropped into the chair Doc had favored.  The dog settled at her
feet.  "She even had to get in that shot about Merle, calling her a
whore.  Where does she"

"Pure spite," Chase cut in quickly, his back to her.  Though it was
still dark outside, he was facing the windows as if he had a fine view
of his surroundings.  "I'm sure Thea is aware that Merle has no use for
her and is willing to say anything to make Merle look bad."

Something about his clipped tone got to Kate.  What he was saying was
undoubtedly true.  So why did she have the feeling he was uncomfortable
with the topic?  Appropriately suspicious where he was concerned, she
let her mind take her somewhere she didn't want to go: Chase and Merle
together.

In the same class in school, they'd hung around together as teenagers.
Not that Kate had ever noticed anything romantic going on between
them.

Still.  Chase moved away from the windows, but even then he remained in
shadow.  H'm be' rag unreadable was somehow fitting.  For Chase was as
much of an enigma to her now as he had been when he'd abandoned her.
She couldn't take anything about him at face value.

Half stretching out on the couch, he set his hat on top of the papers
and books still covering the coffee table.  "We never did finish our
conversation about Nathan."

Which sounded like an excuse to get the topic off Merle.  He must have
had his share of women in the past eighteen years.  Nothing to say
Merle Zwick couldn't have been one of them.

"What didn't we cover?"  she asked.

"Your opinion.  What about Nathan's wanting the land returned to the
Lakota?"

If Chase and Merle had had a thing together, Kate mused, the affair was
obviously in the past or Merle wouldn't have flirted with Hank.  Or
maybe Merle had damped Chase and he hadn't quite gotten over it.  Not
that she cared who Chase had slept with since her.

Not much.

Swallowing her uncalled-for resentment, Kate said, "There's a big
difference between wanting something and making it happen."

"You know him as well as anyone.  Better than I do.  How much loyalty
does he have to his people?"

"Who are Nathan's people?"  she asked.  "He was never overly fond of
reservation life as a kid.  He was always torn between' his Native
American and white roots.  He went off to San Francisco to study fine
arts and stayed away for years after graduating."

"But he's here now," Chase said, "living on the rez."

"Only because his mother died and left him her land.  Artists can
s[arve before they make a name for themselves.  Movin back to the
reservation might have been a matter of simple economics, rather than
an indication he's suddenly become a militant activist.  Besides which,
you started the refuge, what--seven or eight years ago?  Why would he
have waited so long to start making trouble?"

"Opportunity.  We've only been on real shaky ground financially for a
little more than two years.  Nathan first came to work for me late last
summer--after the refuge was vulnerable.  He had enough time to get to
know the operation, to figure out what could go wrong.  And he had the
whole winter to think about it.  Make plans."

Chase had already told her he couldn't afford to pay a staff during the
winter months, so she knew that opportunities to do harm would have
been nil then.  And the trouble had begun in late spring.  She'd
already wondered if Nathan's being part of the refuge staff suited some
dark purpose .  "Nathan was a pretty jealous kid," she admitted.  "He
didn't like his father paying so much attention to me, so he tried to
get even whenever he could."

"I witnessed a few of those fights," Chase reminded her.

"He was always up-front about his anger, though."

"He was a kid then.  He's older now.  Maybe more clever about getting
his way.  Who knows what kind of prejudice he might have suffered away
from the rez?  He could see getting the land back for the Lakota as a
personal vindication for things he himself suffered."

"I already thought of that," Kate admitted.  "But"

"Doe didn't save his life, too, did he?"

"Not to my knowledge."  Unlike Buck, Nathan didn't owe Doe anything.

Too tired to think straight, Kate laid her head against the chair back
and yawned.  Suddenly the idea that a couple of amateurs could figure
out who was trying to destroy the refuge seemed ludicrous to her.
Thea..  Buck.  Nathan.  Who next?

If she and Chase hashed over every possible grievance long enough, she
was certain they could turn everyone else connected with the place into
a viable suspect.

Annie.  Whir.  even Merle.

"My brain is mush.  I'm waving the white flag," she groaned, allowing
her tired eyes to drift closed.  "I surrender."

"You'd better get to bed, then."

"What about you?"

That Chase didn't immediately answer got her attention.  Whipping open
her eyes, Kate realized he was towering over her.  She stared up into
his face, caught by a fleeting and familiar vulnerability.  Suddenly
aware of her heartbeat, Kate knew she should do something, say anything
to break the tenuous connection.

No words came.

Then Chase was reaching for her.  His fingers grasped her wrist and
pulled her arm toward him.  With sensation radiating from where his
hand dominated hers, she allowed the rest of her to follow, stopping
mere centimeters from their bodies colliding.

When he murmured, "I told you what interested me," the power of his
meaning shuddered.  through her.

Kate stood transfixed, afraid to blink.  Moving slowly enough that she
had time to escape if she so chose, Chase slid his hand up from her
wrist to her elbow, then her shoulder.  He was barely touching her, yet
she was feeling thoroughly seduced.  Her pulse thrummed and every nerve
in her body burned as if he'd set it afire.

His breath caressing her face, he ordered softly, "Kiss me, Kate."

Strangely mesmerized, she obeyed.  Rising to her toes, she brushed her
mouth across his.  A light meeting of lips, no more.

His intake of breath was gratifying.  His return kiss a sensual
demand.

Too languid to fight herselfl as well as Chase, Kate gave over, moving
both hands up his chest and around his neck.  She lost herself in the
moment--became weak-kneed and light-headed, almost as if she was a
little drunk.  When his tongue slid into her mouth, she nuzzled it with
her own.

Groaning, he crushed her to him.  His hands cupped her backside.  And
when he tilted her into him, she knew the potency of his hunger.
Instant desire washed over her--a sinking, drowning, glorious
sensation.

Kate's right brain imagined Chase undressing her and making love to her
where they stood.  But her left brain freed her mouth of his.

Though Chase still had the power to make her want him, her own words
echoed back to her: There's a difference between wanting something and
making it happen.

Kate knew she should be routing Chase, sending him on his way. Instead,
she was staring into the face she had once loved too well, more than
anything wishing she could get inside his head.

How long?  she wondered.

If she were to weaken completely, how long would Chase stay interested
in her this time?  If the refuge went the way of most good intentions,
would he go with it?  She certainly could imagine him riding into the
sunset without ever saying a word to her.

That knowledge made her say, "You'd better go or you'll never get any
sleep."

His gaze was steady.  "Maybe I don't care."  "Maybe I do."

He realized she was serious.  She could see it in the subtle shift of
his expression.  Still, he didn let go of her immediately.  He appeared
torn--and for a moment, she thought he might try to convince her
otherwise.

But in the end, his expression blanked and he stepped back.

And Kate endured his loss all over again.

Chapter Nine

Falling asleep well after dawn, Kate got a late start for her first
appointment.  She was eat' rag breakfast on the run--Wrangler shadowing
her, hoping for a tidbit--when the ringing phone stopped her from
opening the front door.

She spun around, practically tripping over the dog.  Annoyed, she
cried, "Not under my feet!"

Wrangler hung his head and let his tail droop.  Immediately
contrite--her lack of sleep wasn't his fault--Kate offered the.  dog
her last bite of English muffin as the phone rang a second time.
Wondering if Chase might be calling, she made it to the end table and
picked up the receiver before it could sound again.  "Kate Farrell."

"You're out of breath."

"Hi, Neil."  Telling herself she was not disappointed at hearing her
brother's voice, she explained, "I was heading out the door."

"Then I'm glad I caught you.  This'll only take a minute.  I heard from
Keelin this morning."

Keelin McKenna.  No, she amended, Keelin Leighton now.  So much had
happened in two days that she'd totally forgotten about the imminent
arrival of her Irish cousin.

"Did Keelin tell you when she and her new husband might get into
town?"

"Late this afternoon.  Mom's so nervous she's already starting
dinner."

"Dinner?"  Kate pulled a face.  She knew what that meant.  "What
time?"

"Seven.  And she said not to be late.  She won't have any excuses."

Not even her trying to find a murderer?  Not that Kate would tell her
family anything that would put them in a panic.

"How's Dad taking it?"

"In silence.  Mom's not speaking to him, either."  Great.  An
uncomfortable meal to look forward to--/f her father was even present.
Just a little storm cloud to add more stress to her day.

At least her work went smoothly.  She gave Lou Sussman's new bull a
clean bill of health.  Julia Blake's horse had recuperated fully from
the colic.  And other than having to worm them again, she found that
Mark Randall's pet burros were thriving nicely on an altered diet.

Kate kept herself so busy all morning she didn't have time to think
about the refuge--well, Chase--until she was consuming a late lunch
she'd bought on the drive out.  The ham sandwich was a little dry
because the kid who'd made it had forgotten the mayo, but She was
hungry enough to devour every bite and wash it down with a can of
soda.

No use denying that she was weakening toward Chase.  Even trying to
charge up her old anger had become a futile effort.  She would never
forget how he'd broken her heart, but she was finally allowing herself
some perspective on the situation.  They'd been so young that sooner or
later something had been bound to tear them apart.  Her going off to
college, for example.  Then she would have been the one to leave Chase
behind.

Of course she wouldn't have done so as callously as he had, Kate
assured herself.  He would have known where she was.  He would have
been able to call or write.  They would have seen each other during her
many school vacations.  But in all honesty Kate couldn't say their
relationship would have remained constant.

And she couldn't forget that she had fallen in love with and married
another man years ago.  She certainly hadn't been thinking about Chase
Brody then.

But she was thinking about him now.  Constantly.  Why?

Pulling up to the refuge office, she chose to leave the question
unanswered for the moment.  Buck was just taking out an afternoon tour,
while other tourists were heading for their cars.  Chase's BrOnco was
nowhere in sight.

Kate stuffed her sandwich wrapper and empty can into a paper sack,
which she took with her upon leaving the pickup.  At the garbage
container, she sensed a furtive movement--Annie slipping from her
office onto the front porch.  Without so much as a greeting, the
volunteer stared at her through the screened wall.  Silence thick with
animosity pebbled the skin along Kate's arms.

Unable to tolerate the uncomfortable quiet, she called out, "Hey,
Annie," in a normal friendly tone.  She moved toward the steps,
wondering what in the world had gotten the volunteer's back up.  "Where
did Chase get himself off to?"

"I thought you were the expert on that.  You were with him all
night."

Kate winced at the other woman's obvious assumption.  Expression
sullen, Annie opened the screen door and stood square in the opening,
arms crossed over her chest as if she meant to prevent Kate from
entering the building.  Though she'd have liked to put the jealous
woman's mind at ease, she couldn't.

All she said was, "That doesn't mean I know where he is now."

Annie's blue eyes were frosty.  "He and Merle are checking over the
perimeter fences."

"More trouble?"

"That's what they're looking for."

Kate took an easier breath.  "Let's hope to God they don't find it."

Annie appeared to be working herself up for something Kate knew she
wasn't going to like, when a shout from some distance claimed her
attention.

"Hey, missy!  Kate Farrell!"

Turning, she discovered Whit Spivey at the top of the incline, waving
her over toward the trail-ride center.  Signaling him she'd heard and
would be there directly, she murmured, "I wonder what he wants."

"Money," Annie said flatly.  "His only motivation."

"Money from me?"

"From anyone who'll give it to him... or whoever he can take it from."
Seeming about to say more, Annie shook her head.  "Never mind.  You'd
better get over there.  If you ignore him, he'll pitch a fit."

Though she would have liked further explanation of the vague
accusation, Kate sensed any questions would be met with more
hostility.

"If Chase gets back while I'm talking to Spivey, let him know I'm
here."

"I'll be sure to do that."

Kate didn't miss her bitter tone.

She felt Annie's yes boring into her back all the way to the pickup.
Glad to have something to distract her from worrying about the other
woman, she sped uphill to where the trail boss waited for her, hands
balled into fists on his hips.

"Took you long enough," Spivey groused as she alighted.  "I got ahorse
needs vetting."

Though Kate was hardly acquainted with the man--Spivey had only settled
in Bitter Creek a few years ago, but well before she'd moved back to
town--she instinctively disliked him.  Not that she would use that as
an excuse to turn her back on an animal who needed her.

"What happened?"

"I hired an in'esponsible kid to help me take good care of my animals
is what."

Spivey stalked toward a big bay tied up away from the rest of the
string.  While the others were saddled, the bay was not.  Kate
immediately identified the problem.  A gash across the gelding's flank
was oozing puss.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, moving toward the horse's head so he
could see her and therefore be less apprehensive.  "How did you hurt
yourself?"  "He musta rolled on something sharp."

Frowning, Kate considered the possibility, but the wound seemed awfully
large to have been inflicted that way.  The metal tag on his halter
identified the young gelding as Hercules.  Suddenly the horse jerked
away, and she realized Spivey had stepped into his line of sight.  Eyes
rolling, the animal pulled at his tether.

"Shh," Kate whispered, touching his velvet nose.  Hercules didn't like
Spivey, either.  And she couldn't miss the sudden restlessness of the
other horses in the string.  "Settle down, Hercules, thatta boy."

She ran a gentle hand across his cheek and along his neck.  While his
flesh quivered, the gelding stood quiet for her.  And kept an eye on
the man.

Spivey spat out a wad of chewing tobacco.  "Damn that Teddy for going
off and not saying a thing!"

"Teddy Wyatt?"  "That's the one."

Kate frowned.  Teddy was both horse crazy and one of the most
responsible kids she knew.  She was certain he wouldn't go off and
leave a hurt animal of any sort.  But saying so would only get Spivey
more riled.

"I'll clean this up and start Hercules on antibiotics."

"How soon will he be able to work?  I can't afford horses who don't
earn their keep."

In a manner of speaking, Kate thought, Annie had been correct about
what the man wanted from her.  The trail boss was more concerned about
making money than about the gelding's welfare.

Though she bit her tongue to keep her opinion to herself, Kate knew her
voice held an edge.  "You won't be able to saddle him for a few days
certainly.  The leather rubbing against the wound would make things
worse."

"He'd better be ready for the weekend," Spivey muttered, gray eyes
cold, "or else!"

Or else what?

The trail boss stalked off toward his lean-to, narrow shoulders set
like steel.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart," Kate soothed, moving closer to comfort
the horse and check the wound more thoroughly.  "I'll tell Chase and he
won't let Spivey work you until you're ready."

The flesh near the wound flinched under her fingertips and a fuzzy
image formed in her mind.

A foul-tempered Witit Spivey swinging out a hand holding a thick
leather strap.  The image distorted as a squeal of pain echoed through
Kate's head.

Realizing Spivey had been the one to inflict the wound, she swore under
her breath and whipped around to confront him.  The moron had already
disappeared into his tack house.

"I'll be right back with my bag, Hercules."  Giving the gelding a piece
of carrot to munch on, she assured him, "I'll make it better, I
promise."

And she wasn't only talking about healing the wound itself.

"ALL I CAN DO IS TALK to him," Chase said after Kate had explained the
situation.  The thought of Spivey mistreating one of his horses made
him sick, but other than using violence on the bastard to teach him a
lesson, he didn't know what he could do.  "I'll strongly suggest he
treat the horses with respect or I'll"

"What do you mean, suggest?  He works for you!"

"Actually he doesn't.  He's an independent contractor and owns the
trail horses."

Chase could tell Kate was frustrated enough to scream.  His mouth drew
into a thin line.  He wasn't any happier.

She paced the small office, the sheen of collecting tears lending a
luminous quality to her green eyes.  "Someone should take those animals
away from Spivey!"

Chase knew Kate would never let her tears fall, at least not in front
of him.  He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, tell her it
was all right to cry if she wanted, but he was certain she would balk
at his touching her.  Besides, Annie could be back at any moment, and
he had a feeling showing affection to another woman in front of her
would not be a good idea.

Opening his fists, he shoved his hands into his pockets and propped a
hip against the edge of the desk.  "You know damn well that taking
legal action against him wouldn't be easy, Kate."

As difficult as it was for the law to stop men from abusing their wives
and kids, he thought, remembering his own situation, it was nearly
impossible to stop the abuse of animals, especially if the owner's
actions weren't openly flagrant.  Unfortunately Spivey was clever. He'd
stick to his story about Hercules hurting himself in the pasture. And
considering how Kate had gleaned her knowledge of the truth, who would
believe her?

"We have to do something.t"

"Like I said, I'll talk to him.  That'll have to do for now.  We have
too much to deal with as it is.  We can't fix everything wrong with the
world at the same time."

"I suppose you're right."

"And if I learn Spivey mistreats one of those horses again, I'll take
care of him myself," he promised.

"Then you would be the one in trouble with the law."  Kate shook her
head.  "Why would a man who so obviously disrespects horses choose to
work with them--and at a refuge meant to protect those very
creatures?"

"Why do batterers marry and have children?  To keep control over their
victims."

Kate's mouth gaped.  Then she blinked and took a deep breath, her
expression subtly changing.  "Chase, what about Spivey?  What if he's
the one Who's"

Noting a movement on the porch from the corner of his eye, he stopped.
her cold.  "We can finish this up later."  Since he didn't know who he
could trust, Chase wasn't taking any chances.  Casually he glanced over
Kate's shoulder.  "Annie, there you are."

"Were you looking for me?"  she asked, entering the office and ignoring
Kate.

He didn't miss the hopeful note in her voice.  "Actually I was
wondering how long ago Nathan left to get those supplies he wanted."

The corners of her mouth turning down, she said, "One, one-thirty.
Something like that.  He was planning on having lunch first."

Chase checked the wall clock.  "I guess he'll be a while, then.  And
I'd better get on that grant application I've been avoiding."

"If Nathan calls in, should I give him a message?"  Annie asked.

"No, it can wait.  But thanks."  To Kate he said, "I'm on my way, then.
Want to walk me out?"

"Sure."

Aware of Annie's sullen gaze following them, Chase crossed the porch
and left the building.  The volunteer had been moody lately, and he was
beginning to suspect she was taking his bond with Kate as a personal
affront, though he'd never indicated anything but friendly interest
toward her.  The notion worried him.

"So what's this about Nathan?"  Kate asked.  "You're keeping tabs on
him?"

"I wanted to make sure he was busy elsewhere so I could check out the
renovation site.  Nathan set up temporary living quarters in one of the
log cabins, supposedly because he didn't want to commute to the reZ."

"I didn't realize he was staying on the property.  That would be
convenient..."

"And that's why I figured on seeing if I could find anything that links
him to the havoc around here."

"What do you expect to find?"

"I'll know when I see it.  If I see it."  Nathan had the benefit of his
doubt.

"I've been thinking there might be something I didn't see," Kate mused
as they arrived at his truck.  She clarified, "About the stampede. They
say the third time's the charm.  I should locate Sage and find out if
that's true in this case."

"Not without me, you don't."  A surge of protective emotion coursed
through Chase.  Her hardheadedness had gotten her into trouble once.
Next time the villain might shoot to kill.  "No more solo
middle-of-the-night adventures."

Her innocuous expression made him nervous.  He'd expected her to react
to his order with her usual affront.  Even a little frown of irritation
would have made him feel better.

"Tonight I have a family obligation," she informed him.  "One of my
McKenna cousins from Ireland is visiting.  Actually Keelin met a man in
Chicago whom she married this past weekend.  Mom has been working on a
celebratory dinner all day."

Though somewhat reassured, Chase realized he was also disappointed.
Then I won't he seeing you.  " " I guess not.  "

Try as he might, he couldn't tell if the fact mattered to her or not.
Though he'd meant to keep his distance, he'd failed.  Even now he was
hard-pressed not to reach out and touch the strand of bright red hair
that had escaped.  her ponytail.  He had the urge to touch her in any
way he could.  Kate wasn't the kind of woman a man could be neutral
about.

"We have to talk," he said.  And not Only about the refuge.  Certain
she was at least softening toward him, he repressed the whisper of
guilt reminding him that she might not be so amenable if she knew
everything.  "I'll call."

"I don't know what time I'll he home."

"Then I'll keep calling until I get you."

Not waiting for another objection, Chase jumped into the truck and sped
off.  If only he could get her.

Not to mention the person responsible for Doc's death before someone
else got hurt.

FEELING DUSTY and dry-mouthed, Kate washed' her face and hands, shoved
her wild hair under her hat and fetched herself a can of soda, which
she could drink while on her way to the back reaches of the refuge. She
figured everyone was occupied, so no one would pay her any mind.

Besides, even the most suspicious wOUldn't expect her to go looking for
Sage's band in broad daylight.

When Chase had demanded she not seek out the wild horses without him,
she hadn't actually lied.  Rather, she'd avoided the truth of her
intentions by telling him she couldn't go that night, anyway, he-cause
of her family obligation.  She'd been thinking of telling him exactly
what she meant to do when he'd sprung the Nathan thing on her.  With
Nathan around most of the time, this might he Chase's only chance to
check things out to his satisfaction.

About to climb behind the wheel, Kate noticed the dust cloud rapidly
approaching and recognized the low-riding vehicle wreathed in fine red
particles.  Great.  t Nathan Lantero had returned earlier than
anticipated.  Chase hadn't even been gone ten minutes.

The can of soda clutched in one hand, she used the other to flag down
Nathan before he could whiz by.  To help Chase finish what he started,
she would delay Nathan from returning to the renovation site for as
long as possible.  But how?  Her mind humming as the pickup screeched
to a stop, the material in the bed shifting wildly, she thought to kill
two birds with one stone.

"Kate," Nathan called through the open window.  "How's it going?"

She pulled a face.  "Not so good."

When he quickly alighted, she noticed that while his long hair hung
loose as usual, a thin braid woven with blue-and-white tile beads and
decorated with a hawk's feather brushed his right cheek.  And he was
wearing a white raw cotton pullover shirt with billowy sleeves and a
quill-and-bead necklace.

She'd never seen Nathan look quite so.  Indian.

"Something happen I should know about?"  he asked.  "You have another
vision?"

His asking didn't sit any more comfortably with her than did his
appearance.

"This isn't about the refuge," Kate said evasively.  "I'm concerned
about one of Whit Spivey's horses.  All of them actually," she amended
truthfully.

"Spivey!"  Nathafa spit out the name as if trying to rid himself of a
foul taste.  "What's he done now?"

"He asked me to tend to a hurt trail horse.  He tried telling me the
wound was accidental--his rolling on something that cut him."

"But you don't believe it."

She shook her head.  "Spivey used a leather strap on the poor animal."
;.

"How do you...?"  Nathan's question faded off as he apparently realized
that she'd gotten the visual impression from Hercules.  His expression
narrowed in disgust.  "Doesn't surprise me none."

"I was wondering ... have you noticed anything else wrong with the
other trail horses?"

"One came up lame a few weeks ago.  Bruised bone, Spivey said.  And
before that, another had a problem with an eye."

More information than she'd actually expected to get from him.  "What
kind of problem?"

"The eye was swollen and half-closed, like someone had punched it
good."

Visualizing the mean-spirited man punching out one of his horses, Kate
felt her stomach roll.  "Something needs to be done to put Whit Spivey
out of the trail-ride business for good, but that would be impossible
without proof.  Do you think anyone might have seen him mistreat any of
his animals?"

"Never heard.  Teddy's the one to talk to, though if he saw something
out of line, I'd bet the kid would've told Chase right away."

Her heart sank to her toes.  "That's what I was thinking."

"You can't fix everything that's broke, Kate."  An echo of Chase's
words.  "No kidding."

Just as she was wondering how to stall him a while longer, the solution
came from Nathan himself.  "So you saw Spivey hitting his horse."
Instinctively she knew he was really interested in what she might have
seen through Sage.  He'd warned her against seeking out the mare again.
And now he wanted confirmation one way or another.

What if he did know?

With temporary quarters on the refuge, Nathan could have spotted and
followed her.  He could have fired off those shots as a warning.

What he couldn't know was whether or not she'd picked up on anything
incriminating.

And she wasn't about to satisfy his curiosity.

"I had a quick flash of Spivey wielding the strap," Kate said, and
rather than lie outright, she circumvented the certainty of a more
direct question.  "I don't go around having visions on a daily has'm,
you real Though Nathan didn't challenge the statement, he looked down.
his straight blade of a nose at her.  Kate grew uncomfortable under his
stare, fearing he was trying to connect with her so he could read her
mind for himself.  Determined to keep him off a subject she didn't
intend to discuss, she figured out a way to turn the tables on him.

"Say ... Annie told me something that surprised me."  '

"What's that?"

"She said the Lakota had been trying to make a deal with the governor
to buy this land when Chase came up with his proposal for the
refuge."

"True enough.  And we should have gotten it."  Kate didn't miss the we.
Glancing at the decorated braid, she asked, "When did you develop such
a commitment to the same people you once fled from?"

Again Nathan stared, and she had to stop herself from flinching under
his black gaze.  Though he'd threatened her many times as a kid, she'd
never feared him.

Now she did.

"When I learned what was important in the world," he finally said.  He
turned his back on her and climbed into his vehicle.  "I gotta get to
work."

"Sorry.  I guess I've been holding you up."

Kate only hoped long enough for Chase to complete his search.

NOT HAVING BEEN to the renovation site for weeks,

since all his spare time had been consumed with fixing engines,
repairing fences and hunting down missing horses--not to mention
pursuing the elusive villain--Chase took a few minutes to inspect
Nathan's work before beginning his search.

At first glance, the outside of the old log buildings looked to be
originals.  The pine logs themselves were authentic if refinished, but
modern mortar blocked the chinks, cedar shingles replaced sod roofs,
and the windows were of glass, instead of mica or waxed paper.

But the small details Nathan had added on his own, particularly those
on the main house, made the place come alive: hand-carved porch posts,
handcrafted mica and metal lamps hanging above front doors, original
design worked into the stone chimneys.

Hard to believe that a man doing such exceptional and creative work
could also have a bent for destruction.

Knowing he had no alternative but to break some personal rules to get
to the truth--a man's right to his privacy being at the top of his
list--Chase headed for Nathan's personal quarters.

Nathan had chosen to occupy the smallest of the half-dozen log
buildings and had built a corral for his horse nearby.  Chase clucked
softly at the medicine hat--a type of paint with a white face, dark
ears and dark patch on its chest favored by Indians in the nineteenth
century.  The gelding snorted at him and went back to his grazing.

Chase hadn't been inside the cabin since Nathan had taken temporary
possession of the single-room structure.  As he'd expected, the door
was unlocked.  Surprisingly the room was even more sparsely outfitted
than he'd imagined.  Simple bedding lay on the newly installed wood
floor.  The furniture consisted of a large antique trunk and a
bookshelf, as well as a table, bulletin board and chair that provided a
workstation.  All were lined up along the same wall.

On closer inspection, the books proved to be of a single topic--Native
Americans, emphasis on Sioux history and culture, two recounting
Wounded Knee.  Sketches pinned to the board were of Indian men and
women in traditional dress.  A work-in-progress on the table was that
of a heavily armed warrior.  Staring at the sketches, then back at the
book titles, he felt his mouth go dry.

Nathan's sole interest didn't bode well.  As much as he wanted to,
Chase didn't think he'd be able to eliminate the other man as a
suspect.

His gaze strayed to the trunk.  Hesitating only a moment, he knelt in
front of it, releasing the old-fashioned catches and lifting the heavy
lid.  Inside, several artifacts lay on quilted padding.

A stuffed kingfisher decorated with beads and feathers.

An ash bow strung with buffalo sinews in a buckskin case with an
attached quiver of arrows.

A sandstone-heded club decorated with horsehair.  A quilled
breastilate.

A rawhide shield stretched over a frame, adorned with the carcass of a
small bird of prey, hawk feathers and horsetail.

A bonnet of bearskin and eagle feathers.

The significance of the artifacts hit Chase like a Mack truck.

All articles of war.

Chase sat back on his heels and took a deep breath.  No expert, he knew
a little of Native American lore.  As a magic charm, the kingfisher
symbolized quickness and helped the warrior to dodge arrows.  The war
bonnet gave him super human powers needed to survive-the bear being a
personal guardian, the eagle a predator.

He set the trunk lid in place and stood, again staring at the sketches
pinned to the board as if he could fathom whether or not Nathan Lantero
was the predator determined to destroy the refuge.

Chase eventually became aware of a presence behind him.

Because he suspected Nathan could be armed, he turned slowly.  No jerky
movements that, could be misinterpreted.  The other man blocked the
doorway, his arms folded across his chest.  As far as Chase could tell,
he wasn't carrying a weapon.  The bright light behind Nathan threw his
face into shadow--Chase couldn't even guess what he might be
thinking.

Not having any way to know how much the other man had observed, he
bluffed, "I finally made the time to check on your progress."

"Find what you wanted?"  Nathan asked dryly.

"Reassurance that things are going smoothly?  You bet.  Everything
looks good."

"In here, too?"

Chase ignored the verbal dare.  "Your work is more than satisfactory,
but I think you know that."

"I know lots of things," Nathan agreed, finally stepping out of the
doorway.  '"If you have questions... ask."

Another challenge, this one more direct.  "So, did you get all the
supplies you needed?"

Nathan's expression was devoid of emotion, but he couldn't hide the
flicker of surprise that lit his dark gaze.

"I have everything I need," he agreed.  "For now."  Chase nodded.  "I
was admiring your handiwork--the sketches, as well as what you're doing
for the refuge.  I didn't realize you'd gone back to your art."

"A new project," Nathan said.  "I got inspired."  "By anything in
particular?"

"Now, if I said, 'by the possibility of making money," you'd be
disappointed, wouldn't you?  "

Not really an answer.  And Chase knew he wasn't going to get one that
was any more direct.

EXPERIENCE HAD TAUGHT Kate that tracking down Sage's band wouldn't be
too difficult.  The tough part had come in calculating how to glean any
information she might have missed.  The last time, the images had flown
by too quickly.  Deciding that if she wanted to see more--the villain,
hopefully--she needed to keep the mare calm.  She'd asked herself what
Doc would do and immediately thought of the treat that had been his
favorite to dispense.

Sweetened grain mash.  Evidence had shown he'd brought along a bucket
of the stuff the night he'd died.

Balanced on a boulder next to the creek, she dangled her pail before
her.  "You know what this is, don't you?"  she cooed.

Having answered her whistle, Sage and the other girls had come closer,
yet still remained at some distance.  Considering what had happened
last time, she didn't blame them.  But upon seeing the bucket, Sage
lifted her nose and sniffed, then meandered toward her, looking this
way and that, much as a cat would do to pretend disinterest.

One of the other mares was not so reluctant, and within seconds, Kate
was surrounded, her filled palm snuffled by a velvety nose.  She made
certain the girls shared whether or not they wanted to.

"C'mon, Sage, stop being a party pooper."

The mare finally made up her mind and shouldered her way past the
others.  Eyeing Kate with only a touch of suspicion, she dipped her
head and lipped the grain mash.

"Thatta girl.  I knew you'd like it."

Kate scooped a larger handful and carefully set down the bucket.
Snorting, Sage went for seconds, while Kate smoothed the silky neck
with her free hand.  Then, conjuring up an image she'd seen a million
times--Doc with bucket in one hand, a horse eating from the other--she
closed her eyes and concentrated, zeroing in on Doc's smiling face,
silently tele graphing the image to the mare.

They connected.  and suddenly Doc appeared older.  the indigo sky
behind him streaked with sheet lightning.  her being bumped by other
horses.  Excitement rushed through Kate as she realized this was an
earlier memory, one preceding the stampede.  Calming herself, she tuned
back in.  a howl.  followed by afferent sound.  Doc turning away. Pulse
thrumming, Kate recognized the chugging noise.  The engine of a truck. 
Not a personal vehicle but a commercial one.  high beams.  Doc limping
away from the cOrral.  panicked whinnying..

The warning set Kate's neck hair to attention.  a hazy form silhouetted
between the truck's high beams and the hot sheet lightning.  a
brighter, more blinding ray flicking on.  Startled out of Sage's
memory, Kate felt as if her heart were pounding right out of her chest.
She'd seen someone driving a truck, rather than riding a horse.  Dear
Lord, why hadn't she and Chase thought of this before?  All this time
they'd been trying to pin the nefarious doings on a single person.

Now she knew for certain that two of them were involved!

Chapter Ten

Kate burned with the need to talk to Chase all through the family
gathering.  Though she'd tried calling him several times to share her
new insight before sitting down at the dinner table, he'd remained
elusive.  She only prayed that Nathan hadn't walked in on Chase going
through his things .  So distracted, Kate only gradually became aware
that--between bites of roast beef, seasoned potatoes, a snap-bean
casserole, fresh biscuits and other treats--her cousin Keelin was doing
a fine job of engaging her father in conversation whether he'd meant to
speak to her or not.

"Despite the many miles between us, Uncle Charlie, our families have
much in common," Keelin was saying, a sweet smile lending a radiant
beauty to her somewhat ordinary features and lighting her soft gray
eyes.

"How so?"

"My siblings and I grew up on a dairy farm, while you raised your
children on a cattle ranch.  There are three of us, as well."

"I expect that makes us similar to a good percentage of the families in
the civilized world;" Charlie said gruffly.

Kate exchanged a look with Neil, who succeeded in keeping a straight
face--until he glanced at their Irish cousin.  Then he could do so no
longer.  Keelin's dark auburn hair rained down along the shoulders of a
loose dress the yellow of sagebrush buttercups found in the wooded
marshy areas of the Black Hills.  Kate thought she'd bring a bright
spot to the darkest day.

"" Tis true," Keelin went on.  " But is it not a grand feeling to know
you have such connections?  "

"My connections are all right here," Charlie argued.  "Except for my
son Quin, who keeps running around getting himself into hot water, of
course.  Next thing I know, you'll be comparing me to James McKenna!"

"Charlie, hush!"

"Don't hush me at my own table, Rose"

"Da can be a difficult one," Keelin said, stopping the argument cold.
"When he takes a stand, he will dig in.  But he is a good man with
human failings like the rest of us."

Kate was aware of Keelin glancing at Tyler, giving him a look that was
half reproachful, half teasing, as if she'd had personal experience
with his shortcomings, too.  And yet .  she'd married him, anyway. Love
conquering all?

Unbidden, Chase came to mind.

"And though Da does not often admit when he is wrong," Keelin was
saying, her lilt mesmerizing, "his heart has never been the same since
his family became... disconnected."

"By me, you mean," Charlie groused.

"By his own weaknesses.  Growing up in a country divided by religious
and political differences can twist a man's thinking.  Perhaps you need
to experience such confusion firsthand before you can truly
understand."

"The United States has its problems"

"But it's not at war With itself, Dad," Neil pointed out.

"Not in the same manner," Tyler agreed.  "Especially not out here."

Keelin put a hand on Tyler's arm.  "I cannot speak for you, Uncle
Charlie.  I can only say that I would give any decent person who made a
terrible error in judgment a second chance."  lfore he could find a way
to object, she turned to hr aunt.  "Such a lovely dinner, Aunt Rose.  I
only hope you didn't spend your entire day in the kitchen because of
our arrival."

"Oh, no, of course not.  This is just a run-of-the-mill Farrell family
dinner."

Hand over her mouth to hold in her snicker, Kate exchanged another
significant look with her brother, who was hiding his smile behind a
napkin.  That their mother glowed from the inside out thrilled Kate.
Keelin was good medicine for Mom.  And maybe for Dad, as well.

Hr Irish cousin seemed to have a keen insight on people, and her belief
in second chances nagged at Kate through the rest of the meal.

ALL COMPLAINING they were stuffed, the men retired to Dad's study,
while Morn insisted on loading the dishwasher herself.

Wanting a few minutes alone with Keelin, Kate had volunteered to give
her cousin a tour of the grounds.

As they strolled through the barn, they fed carrot sticks to the riding
horses, who'd already been brought in against possible bad weather.

"Why are you really here, Keelin?"

"This is my marriage trip."

"You didn't even know Tyler when you came to the States," Kate reminded
her, leading the way outside to the accompaniment of snorted protests.
"You went to see Skelly and Aileen and Uncle Raymond in Chicago.  Now
you're here."

"I cannot be fooling you, I see.  I want Da, Aunt Rose and Uncle
Raymond to be reunited."

Kate grinned.  "Good.  I was trying to figure out how to get More to go
back to Ireland for a visit myself."

"So you think she would be amenable?"

"I'm certain she would.  Dad's the problem."  Kate sighed.  "Mom's
always had her moods over what happened with her brothers.  I think it
made her sick inside.  And it's stopped her and Dad from being truly
happy together.  No matter how much they love each other, there's this
invisible wall at times... Lately, I think Morn has been worried that
if she isn't reunited with James and Raymond soon, it'll be too
late."

"My very thought," Keelin admitted.  "Da recently had a heart
attack."

"Oh, Keelin..."

"He'll be doing fine, God willing.  But when he was at his most
desperate, he called out for Raymond and Rose.  Of course, now that
he's recovered, he'll not be admitting to his heart's desire.  I know
having all his family around him would give Da the resolve to live
forever.  That's why I'm wanting a family reunion--all the McKennas and
their loved ones together."

A fleeting image of her holding Chase's hand in the midst of her
extended family put a lump in Kate's throat.  "When?"

"In time to celebrate our parents' sixtieth birthday."

"Perfect.  Exactly what Mom needs."  Kate frowned, thinking she should
warn her cousin.  "If Dad pressures her, I'm not sure she'll agree.
Then again you practically had him eating out of your hand."

Keelin's eyes widened.  "And I thought I had irritated him beyond
reason."

"Trust me, you did good."

Kate stopped before a fenced pasture where several mares grazed with
their foals.  The sun was in the process of setting,.  and the sky had
darkened to a purple streaked with pink and orange.  In the far, far
distance, faint streaks of lightning stabbed through thick clouds to
touch the earth.  Her familiar whistle brought the mothers nearer, the
long-legged babies shadowing them.  Then she clucked softly until a
blue roan boldly stuck her nose through the split rails.

Watching Kate closely, Keelin said, "You remind me of my brother
Curran.  He has a gift with the horses.  He trains' Thoroughbreds for a
well-known Irish sta The wind soughed around them, plucking and pushing
at her.  Kate hesitated only a moment.  " Speaking of gifts, how well
did you know our grandmother?  " She gave the mare a carrot stick.  "
Better than anyone.  "

"Could Moira really communicate with animals?"  "Among other
talents."

As Kate stroked the mare, she automatically checked her out, turning
inward until a feeling of wellness and contentment filled her.  She
smiled and patted the roan.

"You have the touch, as well, don't you?"  Keelin asked, sounding a bit
awed.

Surprised that her cousin had known what she was up to, Kate said,
"That I do."  She distributed carrot sticks among the other mares,
who'd responded to her whistle.

Keelin laughed happily.  "Oh, my, and I thought I was the only one."

"You're able to connect with animals, too?"

"I inherited a different ability from our grandmother."  Keelin
sobered.  "I sometimes dream through another's eyes--dreaming what they
are seeing at that very moment.  I don't mind when the visions are
pleasant, but that has not always been the case.  I've seen terrible
things, Kate--people in desperate trouble."

Lightning flickered in the distance as if for emphasis, sending a chill
through Kate and reminding her of her current situation.  "I can
empathize.  The responsibility gets to you, right?"

Keelin nodded.  "The first time it happened, I declared that I wanted
nothing to do with such a burden.  Gran told me that I was chosen
because I was strong enough to meet the challenge.  No matter.  For
most of my life, I thought this gift a curse.  And yet, if I'd not had
it... Tyler's daughter, Cheryl, had been kidnapped and somehow, across
an ocean and half a continent, I saw through her eyes in my dreams."

"That's how you met Tyler?"

"Aye.  Thank heaven I helped rescue his child, but only after pushing
my gift beyond the boundaries I'd known before."

Suddenly Kate felt less alone with her own burden.  "I'm so glad things
turned out positively."  Both for Cheryl and for Keelin,

The air had become chilly and damp, and the sky had grown dark.  Though
often the threatening weather zigzagged around them, there was no use
taking chances and getting caught in a downpour.

"Maybe we should get back before the skies open."

"I don't melt when I get wet," Keelin said with a laugh.  "Eire has
more than its share of rain."

"Not like we have, it doesn't.  Have you ever seen hail the size of
softballs?"

e, lin went wide-eyed.  "Perhaps we should hurry."

Both laughing,.  they set off arm in arm, Kate saying "You really love
Tyler, don't you?"

"More than life itself."

Feeling closer to Keelin than a cousin, almost as if she'd found the
sister she'd always longed for, she asked, "What if the man you loved
did something really awful?  Could you forgive him and love him,
anyway?"  A haunted expression flashed through Keelin's eyes.  "I would
consider all the circumstances.  And I would look to see what kind of
person he really was.  I would ask myself which was the more
important--a single deed or the whole of the man.  And most of all,
Kate, I would ask myself whether or not I felt true love for him."

Keelin sensed what she herself hadn't wanted to concede, Kate realized.
She'd admitted to being in lust with the man, but she hadn't asked
herself how she felt about Chase deep in her heart, because she'd been
afraid of the answer.  Now she was afraid the answer was becoming all
too obvious.

"None of us is perfect or we would all be part of the heavenly choir,"
Keelin said.  "I believe we were put on earth to make ourselves the
best human beings possible.  Unfortunately some of us have to work
harder than others to become all we can."

And Chase's father had given him a hellish start, Kate knew.  So many
victims succumbed to a life of misery and never found their way out.
Chase had fought back.  Perhaps he hadn't always done the correct
thing, but he had kept fighting and he had changed.  Any woman should
be proud to love the man he had become.

"Kate, may I ask you something personal?"

Thinking Keelin's curiosity was about her relationship with Chase, she
said, "Of course."

"Earlier this evening I sensed you were troubled by something.  I was
wondering about the source.  Perhaps I can help."

Not wanting to alert the rest of her family, Kate stopped in the
shelter of an outbuilding before they reached the house.  She found
herself telling Keelin about the problems plaguing the refuge and gave
her a shorthand version of her stormy relationship with Chase Brody.

She told her about Doc and how, through Sage, she'd come to realize his
death hadn't been an accident.

And about her determination to bring the villain to justice.

"I can't let this rest, Keelin, no matter how dangerous it might
become.  I have to keep on for Doc's sake."

"And for Chase."

"And for Chase," Kate echoed softly, realizing it was true.

Even knowing that if the refuge did fail, he might turn around and walk
straight out of her life again, she would do anything to help him.

"I was afraid of this," Keelin murmured.

Under the dim light of the outbuilding, Kate noted her cousin's worried
frown.  "Afraid of what?"

"The McKenna Legacy."

"McKenna... you mean Moira's letter?"

Keelin nodded and quoted, "" Act selflessly in another's behalf, and my
legacy shall be yours.  " A double-edged sword, this bequest of Gran's.
First I had to face grave danger ... then Skelly... and now you.  I
fear that every one of us will be required to risk our very lives in
order to find the happiness Gran wished for

US.  "

Kate remembered thinking that she'd already blown her chance, that
she'd been too selfish, that something within her had kept men from
accepting and loving her as se was.  But she couldn't tell her cousin
all that.  And what if the crazy Fates were giving her another chance?
With Chase?

She asked, "Do you think the risk is too great?"

"No risk is too great to find the love of a lifetime.  My fear is that
we will not all survive the test."

Kate's heartbeat fluttered.  Something to keep in mind.  Sobered by the
gentle warning and fighting the sudden anxiety that threatened to
overwhelm her, she started for the house again.  But by the time they
set foot inside the door, Keelin was regaling her with a childhood tale
that made her laugh.

On the surface, she smiled for her family's sake.  But underneath, her
worry festered She tried calling Chase again and again to no avail.

She half listened to Keelin talk about the herb garden that had been
Moira's and was now hers.  Though she and Tyler would use Moira's old
cottage as their second home, Keelin would sell her share of the
herbalist shop to her two partners and start a similar business in the
Chicago area.

Kate found herself watching the clock too closely.  Fearing that
something had happened to Chase, she grew anxious to leave for home.  A
quick change out of her flouncy skirt into more practical jeans and she
would be off to the refuge to find him, despite her re solve to get
much-needed sleep that night.

Finally she made her excuses.

Despite the chilly drizzle that had started some time before, Keelin
insisted on walking Kate to her pickup.  From the folds of her yellow
dress, she retrieved a small cloth bag on a leather cord and placed it
around Kate's neck.

"To help you make all the proper decisions."

"A medicine pouch?"

"Aye, something like that," Keelin agreed.

Kate lifted the cloth bag to her nose and sniffed.  "How wonderful.
What's inside?"

"Orange flower absolute to quiet your anxiety and to keep your heart
calm.  It also helps to battle shock and fear.  Then there's rose to
calm anger and keep your spirits up.  Ylang-ylang will stimulate your
senses and bring about a feeling of well-being."  Keelin grinned. "And,
oh, yes, considering where you're probably off to... ylang-ylang can
also be a powerful aphrodisiac."

Kate laughed and wrapped her arms around her cousin.  "Thank you."

They hugged for a moment before Keelin turned Kate toward her vehicle.
"Go find him before you expire for the Wanting."

Kate didn't waste time.  A few minutes later, on the highway with
windshield wipers squeaking, she brought the pouch to her nose again.
Either she was a sucker for suggestion or the herbs inside were already
making her feel better.

The euphoria lasted all the way home and up the wet front steps.

Expecting Wrangler to make silly noises when she placed her key in, the
lock, however, Kate was perplexed at hearing nothing.  And when he
didn't bark a greeting as she opened the door, she grew immediately
concerned.

"Wrangler?"  she called softly.

The mutt simply wasn't there.  Every time she left the house without
him, he escorted her to the hall, where he would be waiting for her
when she came home.  He was always in her way.  Under her feet.  Except
for now.  What was going on?

Not knowing whether she could safely enter, Kate stood in the doorway,
her pulse fluttering wildly.  What if someone had broken in to get to
her and in the process had hurt poor Wrangler?  4 weapon.  something to
protect herself.  Upon seeing the low flicker of light emanating from
the living room, Kate immediately thought of the fireplace poker.
Someone had not only broken into the house, but had had the nerve to
start a fire!  Her eyes were already adjusted to the dark.  Trying to
breathe normally, she moved into the hall and tiptoed its length before
stopping again.  Certain her heart was pounding loud enough to warn the
intruder, she peeked around the corner.

Whoever had made the fire was lying on the living-room floor, his arm
around Wrangler's neck!

About to fly to the fireplace and fetch the poker, Kate first took a
better look.

The dark-clothed body on the floor was familiar.  She choked out,
"Chase?"  thinking he was hurt--or worse.  For a moment shock rooted
her to the spot, taking away her breath and stinging her eyes.

Then, with a responding groan, the body moved and the dog's head popped
up.  Wrangler gave a sharp bark and shot to all four paws, then shook
himself out.  As Chase pushed himself into a sitting position, Kate's
pulse lurched, then steadied when he seemed perfectly intact.  Yawning,
he was trying to focus on her with what seemed to be little success.

He mumbled, "Kate, there you are," and yawned again.  "Must have fallen
asleep."

Tail wagging, Wrangler trotted over to her.  Kate ruffled the dog's
fur.  Grateful that nothing had happened to Chase, after all, more
relieved than she could say that he was still in one piece, she was
also irritated at his high-handedness--letting himself in and making
himself at home.  Making her think the worst.

"What are you doing here?"  she asked more sharply than she'd
intended.

"Nice to see you, too," he returned.  "I've been waiting for you."  He
rubbed a hand over his face.  "I told you we needed to talk."

About the refuge of course.

Her adrenaline rush plummeting, Kate was chilled inside her damp
clothes and boots.  She moved closer to the fireplace and told herself
she was not disappointed that Chase's being here wasn't more personal.
Her conversation with Keelin had confused her, had made her focus on
them, rather than on the more important issue.  She retrieved the poker
and used it to stoke what was left of the fire, then added fresh wood
to the embers.  Flames flared, illuminating the room with a flickering
golden glow.

Disheveled from sleep, his dark hair tumbling over his forehead, Chase
was nearly more tempting a sight than she could bear.

Kate's heartbeat refused to normalize and her throat was tight with
confused emotion when she asked, "Do you want to go first or shall

I? "

Giving her a strange look, he said, "I guess it doesn't matter."

"Fine.  I was about to leave the refuge when Nathan returned from
town."  She fetched a couple of couch cushions and tossed them to the
floor next to him.  "I tried to stall him as long as I could, but I
wasn't certain if you had enough time to finish your search.  Did you
run into him?"

"Yes, but"

"So he caught you going through his things?"

"I was in his room when he got back, but I wasn't touching anything.
Still, he knew.  No doubt about it."

Not exactly what she wanted to hear, but at least the reality wasn't as
bad as some of her imaginings.  She collapsed onto a cushion, spreading
out her skirt so it would dry faster.  The dog lay down nearby.  "And
he didn't threaten you?"

"Not directly."

Which meant the threat still existed, Kate worried.  "What did you
find?"

"That Nathan is more enthusiastic about being a Native American than
you gave him credit for," Chase informed her.  "Books about Sioux
history and culture.  Drawings of his people in traditional dress..."

Sensing he was leading up to something she wasn't going to like, Kate
asked, "And?"

"And a trunk filled with artifacts of war--bow and arrows, a club,
breastplate, shield, war bonnet."

The revelation took her breath away.  And yet Kate hoped for another
explanation.  "They could be family heirlooms he inherited from his
mother."

"If so, why would he keep them on the refuge, instead of leaving them
at his Place on the fez?  He didn't have much else in that cabin,
believe me."

"So what do you make of it?"

"Either Nathan's trying to atone for past disinter-est in his own
birthright... or he's gone militant."

That Nathan could be making war against the refuge over land that was
being put to an altruistic use--if not the purpose he
preferred--sickened her.

"But which is it?"  Kate murmuredi: tugging at one of her new hunter
green boots.  It would have to rain the first time she wore them.  And
either the wet leather was being uncooperative or her nerves were shot,
for she was having difficulty removing it.  "Even if Nathan's guilty,
he's not alone in this, Chase.  Two of them are working together."

Her dramatic statement was backed by a crash of thunder and followed by
a flash of blue light from the windows.  The rain had picked up and was
drumming against the side of the house.

"How do you figure?"  he asked.

"Once Nathan left for the renovation site, I took a detour on the way
home.  I found Sage"

He cut her off.  "I thought we discussed that!"  His tone got her back
up.  "We discussed my not wandering around the refuge at night."  The
boot finally gave way with a jerk.  "This was broad daylight."

"Semantics.  I cofild tell you were up to something."

"I'm not that readable."

"Maybe not to anyone else.  So you found Sage and... ?"

His implication that she was readable to him, added to his obvious
anfioyance at actions he considered dangerous, touch el Kate.  Even if
he didn't admit as much, he must care for her on some level.

"I tapped into an earlier memory," she told him more calmly.  "Before
the stampede.  Right before."  Lightning lit the room again, reminding
her of the vision.  "I sort of know what happened to the mustangs that
disappeared, We couldn't find them because they were hauled out in a
truck."

The impact of her statement hit Chase hard.  His mouth set in a grim
line, he echoed, "A truck.  Those horses could be anywhere now."

"Hopefully someplace safe."

"Don't be naive... and don't count on our recovering them."

"But the freeze brands"

"Don't mean a thing to greedy people without scruples."

Kate didn't want to think the worst.  "Maybe we can get them back
before it's too late."

"Does that mean you know who hauled them out of here?"

She shook her head.  "His flashlight blinded me."

"He?  A man.  You're certain?"

"Or a big woman.  I didn't see a face.  But I did see a silhouette. I'm
pretty certain it was male."

Chase frowned.  "Seeing this man and the rider responsible for the
stampede doesn't mean two of our suspects are working together to ruin
the refuge.  One of them could've been hired help from the
outside--most likely the truck driver."

But Kate didn't agree.  "I don't think so.  He never said a word and
I'm pretty certain he positioned himself behind the truck's lights
purposely so that Doc couldn't see his face.  Besides," she said,
starting to loosen the second boot, "Sage knew him."

"She told you so?"

Kate didn't miss Chase's skepticism.  "In a manner of speaking."

"Too bad she couldn't give you a name."

Kate met his gaze.  '"She probably could if we wanted to put it to the
test.  Of course you'd have to get the cooperation of everyone
involved."

"A lineup?"

"With a wild horse as the star witness."

"And a wild woman," he Said, grabbing the un-cooperative boot with both
hands.  "Brace yourself."

She set both hands on the floor behind her.  "I'm not so wild
anymore."

With a yank, he loosened the heel, slipped the boot off, yet didn't let
go of her foot.  "You could have gotten yourself killed."

"Everyone was busy."  AWar of -Chase's fingers around her ankle through
the thick cotton sock, Kate was having trouble keeping her mind on her
protest.  Suddenly weak-limbed, she leaned back on her elbows.  "No one
was paying me any mind, and I didn't cut across the refuge--I took the
long way around.  Besides," she reminded him, "it was broad
daylight."

"Which wouldn't s, top a killer."

"I'd say whoever he is would be more likely to act at night.  Chase,
think about the number of horses missing.  And that they came from
various parts of the property.  Whoever took them had to have made at
least three hauls.  What if they come back for more?"  she asked as he
let go of her ankle and propelled himself toward her.  Heart racing,
she continued, "Too bad we couldn't se up some kind of trap"

Her sentence was cut off by his kissing her to the grumble of more
thunder.  Unfortunately the moment was over before Kate could close her
eyes and enjoy it.  "What was that for?"  she asked breathlessly.

"To stop your mouth before it talked your way into more trouble."

He was leaning over her, his weight resting on his hands, one of his
knees wedged firmly between her thighs.  The familiar plains of his
body so close to hers fairly took her breath away.  She flushed all
over as her every nerve went on alert.

"Who says I'm afraid of trouble?"  she murmured, thinking she was
staring into trouble's eyes and liking it far too much.

"You should be."

"You want me to be afraid of you?"

"That's not what I meant," he said, his frown puckering the scar above
his cheek.  "You're mi sing terpreting--like the conversation we just
had.  When I said I wanted to talk, I meant about you and me."

His serious statement sent a thrill racing along her spine.  Tracing
the small scar with a fingertip, she asked, "What about us?"

"That's what I want to know."  Chase pressed his cheek against her hand
and kissed her fingers.  "Is there an us?"

Chapter Eleven

"You may not believe this, Kate, but I never forgot you," Chase went
on, drawing away from her and sitting back on his heels.  "I never
really got over... everything that happened between us.  When you
walked back into my life, I thought I could resist you for your sake,
but I was wrong.  I'm not that selfless," he admitted.  "The little
sleep I get is filled with dreams of you.  And when I'm awake, I want
to be with you every moment.  I know I disappointed you once.  Can you
find it in yourself to forgive me?"

"I already hate."

She'd taken Keelin's question about which was the more important--a
single deed or the whole man--to heart.  There was no question that the
man Chase had become was someone she could not only love but respect.

"You were right, you know," he said.  "I was a coward.  All those years
ago, I had feelings for you that were more than I could deal with,
especially considering the circumstances."

"You mean the accident," Kate said quickly, hoping Chase finally meant
to be honest with her.  She scooted into a sitting position next to
him.  "You've been holding this in for so long... I'd like to hear your
version of what happened."

Maybe then she would truly understand.

Seeming torn, Chase finally nodded and settled down, keeping a small
distance between them.  "You'll remember we were putting up fences that
day.  I was already distracted, but if it wasn't for the whiskey"

"I still can't believe you were drinking and working with heavy
machinery."

"Stupid, I know.  My judgment just wasn't there.  We hit a rocky
surface and the shaft kept spinning and getting nowhere.  Gil decided
to help the equipment along by adding his weight to the hydraulics."

"He got on top?"

His face drawn, Chase nodded.  Kate took a deep breath.  This was a
detail Buck had never related in his version of the story.

"Buck passed me the bottle so he could help his brother.  To this day,
I don't know exactly what happened.  I was in the middle of a long
swallow when I heard the thuds.  Suddenly there was yelling.  I whipped
around to see what was going on just as Buck jumped off the back end,
then started shouting that his brother was caught and he couldn't free
him.  That's when I really screwed up.  I panicked and somehow managed
to put the tractor in reverse."

Kate's stomach clutched.  "Oh, my God."  She reached out to touch
Chase's arm, offer him what comfort she could.  He placed his hand over
hers and continued.

"Then they were both screaming and I was being splattered with blood.
Once I got the tractor in control, I jumped off and tried to help them.
Gil lay there, his life's blood pumping out of him--a shaft blade had
opened an artery.  And Buck's leg was real messed up.  Somehow I
managed to haul them both onto the tractor, but by the time I got them
back to the barns, it was too late.  Buck was semiconscious and blaming
me for his brother's death."

"But it was an accident."

"I was drunk!"  ,

"It sounds like you all were."  Though she could understand why he felt
guilty.

"I kept visualizing an angry lynch mob stringing me up, so I didn't
hang around the ranch.  And I couldn't wait until the next morning to
find out if the sheriff would come after me.  In the middle of the
night, when I was certain my 01d man was out cold in a drunken haze, I
sneaked out of the trailer and left Bitter Creek, vowing never to
return."

"You were young."  She herself had been horrified by the accident that
had left one teenager dead and the other lame.  But accident it had
been, no matter the guilt from which Chase had run.  "And we've all
done things we have-cause to regret later."

"Not like this, Kate.  After you hear the rest of what

I have to tell you, I'm not sure you'll want"

She put her hand on his mouth.  "Save it:"

If he kept talking, he'd give her more opportunity to let the past come
between them, and she didn't want that to happen.  Not after he'd
finally opened up to her.  Her heart went out to him because she knew
he was still carrying around the burden of guilt.  If she could, she
would remove it.  The best she could do was make him feel better.
Focusing on the rhythm of the rain drumming against the house, she
feathered her fingers along his cheek.

"We'll talk' about anything you want some other time ... when we can't
think of anything better to do."

Chase groaned.  Gazing deeply into her eyes, he looked as if he was
going to say something more, anyway.  But in the end he changed his
mind.  His head swooped down, his mouth covering hers fully.

This time Kate took the utmost pleasure in his kiss, drawing out the
interplay of lips and teeth and tongues.  Eyes closed, emotions open,
she shared with him her renewed sense of wonder.  A woman now, she was
no less thrilled by the thorough contact than she'd been as a girl.

Breathing hard, Chase broke the connection and made a new one as he
buried his face in her throat.  Sensation swamped Kate when he trailed
his mouth along her sensitive skin--nudging her blouse out of the
way--and lightly bit the delicate flesh between her neck and shoulder.
HIS fingers tangled in her hair, and she felt him unsnap the clip that
had been holding it out of her face.  Now the natural curls tumbled
around her shoulders in disarray.

Chase pulled back slightly, his hand coaxing her hair into an unruly
mass.  "That's the way I've dreamed of seeing you--Wild and wanton."

"You should see me on a bad hair day," she joked, then swallowed her
breath as, beneath her skirts, his hand slid up the outside of her
leg.

"Mmm, and that scent you're wearing is almost as intoxicating as
you."

Keelin's ylang-ylang, Kate thought.

Liquid heat followed the trail he broke with his hand.  Kate responded
by lying back and parting her thighs, allowing him more intimate
exploration.  She burned where his fingers found her and arched to ward
them for more.  He tried to pull away the scrap of satin covering her,
but the material wouldn't give.

He slid the garment down her hips, sliding himself, as well, so he
could follow the material with intimate kisses.

Finally he rid himself of his jeans, then lay back,

and taking her with him, positioned her to straddle him.

She'd been wearing a skirt the night she'd been initiated into
lovemaking, and Kate felt as if she was experiencing the memory the way
she had when she'd tuned into Sage.  Every touch felt like the first,
her reactions that of an overeager and inexperienced girl.  But when
she eased herself onto him--they hadn't been quite so inventive that
first time--she felt like the wanton he'd imagined her to be.

This had been predestined, Kate thought, unbuttoning his shirt, running
her hands over his chest and down his taut belly.  Their
constantgparring had been a mating dance, a prelude to a joining that
had been inevitable from the moment they'd laid eyes on each other
again.

Even as she pulsed languorously over Chase, he continued to undress
her.  Slowly opening her stilb damp blouse button by button, he watched
through slitted eyes.

When he reached for the bag of herbs as if to remove it, however, she
croaked, "No, leave that be."  Whether or not it really held an
aphrodisiac, she felt as if they'd both fallen under its exotic scent.
No sense in breaking the spell.

As he slipped the blouse off her shoulders and down her arms, the
tangled material imprisoning her hands, she threw back her head and
closed her eyes.  He thumbed her nipples through the satin covering her
breasts.

Overcome with desire, Kate bit her bottom lip to Stop from crying out.
As if sensing her need, Chase rid her of the garments, molding his
hands around her full flesh, while she began rocking her hips in the
same natural rhythm as the beating rain.

She bent to kiss him.  Their breaths mingled and grew heavier.  A lusty
sigh escaped her.

Waiting no longer, still buried deep inside her, Chase turned her flat
on her back.  She tore at his shirt, frantic to feel not only his bare
chest against her breasts but the strength of his arms and the muscles
of his back under her palms.  She had little time to savor him before
their passion exploded at the exact moment lightning lit the sky and
thunder rattled the windows.

For a moment Kate floated, again visualizing that first intense glance
when they'd rediscovered each other--until Wrangler's fearful whine and
bark of alarm sent a chill through her.

She remembered that special moment had taken place at Doc's
gravesite.

BUCK STOOD OUTSIDE the window, heedless of the rain that rolled inside
his jacket and down his back.  He'd had too much to drink to let a
little rain worry him.  And the naked bodies inside left him unaffected
but for a growing resentment.

Chase Brody owed him.  He could have had a life.  A job.

A family.

Instead, he was left with a bottle in a paper sack.  He took a swig
from it.  Whiskey dribbled down his chin, along with the rain.  Chase's
fault he was a shell of what might have been--a damn living ghost who'd
been given a pity job by the man who'd crippled him.  Chase Brody owed
him big time, would never stop owing him as long as he lived, Buck
decided.  Nothing would ever be enough for what he'd lost.  Still, he
would keep Chase paying for as long as it suited him.  The guilt would
keep the bastard from suspecting he was being duped.

Another swig had Buck considering new punishments.  Especially one that
would steal away Chase's humanity as Chasehad stolen his.

Bleary-eyed from too much booze, he watched the couple inside hold on
to each other like they would never let go again.  Then he smiled.

The woman.  That was his ticket.

Chase's losing the woman he loved would be the ultimate payback.

CHASE WOK KAT at the crack of a drizzly dawn in a delightfully intimate
manner.  One body part led to another, and before she knew it, all
thoughts of sleep had fled.  The early-morning sex play left her
ravenous, and she was surprised that Chase was talking about heading
back to the refuge, rather than joining her for breakfast.

"What's the hurry?"  she asked, pulling on a terry robe while he
climbed into his clothes.

"I want to check things out," he admitted, "before everyone's up and
around."

"You think something else has happened?  More horses missing?"  Kate's
protective instincts were aroused.  "I'd better go with you."

"No need."  He played with a loose strand of her hair and kissed her on
the nose.  "I'm just being cautious.  Who knows when they'll strike
again?"

He'd said they, so he, too, believed more than one person was at fault.
I. earning that more wild horses were missing after the fact didn't
exactly help matters, either.  Not the horses, certainly.  Kate was
con-vi need there had to be a way to catch the rustlers in the act.

"I know it's impossible to predict when something is going to happen,"
she said; "but I was thinking of how we might catch them."  Thinking
about the day they'd found the horses missing had given her the idea.
"You can see a pretty good portion of the north and west refuge
boundaries from the old observation tower"

"Too dangerous."  Chase frowned down at her.  "If I had the money or
the manpower, I'd pull that thing down before someone gets hurt.  You
stay away from it."  His hand worked its way under her chin, lifting
her face to his.  "Promise me."

Chase could be very persuasive when he wanted to be.  Kate promised.

After he left and she had her breakfast, Kate went into Doc's study,
Wrangler at her heels.  The room was still overflowing, but she wasn't
much in the mood to do anything about the clutter, even though she had
a couple of hours before her first appointment.  Besides, what was the
rush?  Happier than she could ever remember being, she swiveled in the
office chair, her eye caught by the journals Doe had been keeping all
his professional life.

Doc.

Her smile fading to bittersweet, she let her mind drift to his untimely
death and the people who were suspect--nearly everyone they knew, it
seemed, though she and Chase had concentrated on Thea Lockridge and
Na(han Lantero.  She wondered why he'd never figured on them working
together, but she and Chase might be of like mind.  Somehow she
couldn't see Nathan giving Thea the time of day.  Who would?

Though she still couldn't envision Buck Duran hurting Doe, Chse 'hadn't
eliminated him.  Considering the difficulty Buck had had getting work
over the years, he might be open to less-than-sterling methods of
earning money.  And no matter that he seemed to have forgotten the
past, he did have reason to re-sent--maybe even hate--Chase.

Lying in wait for the guilty ones to Strike was the only way they were
going to learn their identities for certain, but how to convince
Chase?

Leaning forward, she fetched the journal for 1978 from the shelf and
paged back to the day of the fateful accident.  Curious to know Doc's
thoughts on the matter, she skimmed the passage relating the details of
his working on Buck's leg and scanned the next few pages for a
less-graphic follow-up entry.

Nothing caught her attention until another name fairly jumped out at
her:

Merle Zwick came to me desperate for help.  Nothing I could do for her
but shore up the bleeding and get her to a clinic in Hot Springs.  Poor
girl.  Two losses in as many days is enough to break anyone.

Kate stared at the enigmatic entry for a moment, then paged ahead,
looking for another about Merle, but Doe didn't mention her again.

Even back then she hadn't known Merle very well, but Bitter Creek had
always boasted a well-developed rumor mill.  If Merle had hurt herself
badly enough to be taken to a clinic for treatment, word would have
gotten around town faster than greased lightning.  Surely she would
have heard something.

Nothing I could do for her but shore up the bleeding,.

Kate shifted uneasily at the ominous statement.  What if the bleeding
hadn't come from an outer wound?  What if she'd been bleeding from the
inside?  Doe almost made it sound as though Merle had been having a
miscarriage.

Two losses.  Losing a baby would have been emotionally devastating-if
Merle had wanted to be pregnant.  And nothing of the sort had ever come
over the grapevine.  A secret pregnancy?

But whose baby might it have been?

The possibility that came to mind spoiling her good mood, Kate closed
the journal and replaced it on its shelf, wishing she had never
remembered that Doe had treated Buck.  Then her suspicions wouldn't
have been aroused.  She wouldn't have had another truth to learn.

She wouldn't have had the awful feeling that even while Chase had been
courting her, he'd been sleeping with Merle Zwick.

"No, it can't be," she whispered, emotions charged in a devastating
direction.

But Chase had been trying to tell her something about the past before
they'd made love last night.  He'd indicated she might not want to be
with him after he told her everything.

And she had stopped him, fearing the past would come between them.  "

As if he knew she needed some comforting, Wrangler nosed his head onto
her lap.  Absently she stroked his fuzzy face and scratched him behind
the ears.  Two losses in as many days.  First Chase, then the baby?

Kate knew she ms jumping to conclusions, but she couldn't help herself.
The truth seemed clear enough for a blind person to see.

Kate wrapped her arms around Wrangler's neck, taking what comfort she
could in his doggy devotion.

When Chase had run away without looking back, she realized, it was
altogether possible that he hadn't left one broken heart behind, but
two.

BY THE TIME SHE ARRIVED at the refuge later that afternoon, Kate was
feeling a little more rational.  Though she would make no accusations,
she would ask Chase directly what he knew about Merle's plight.  She
only hoped he would give her an answer she could believe.

First she checked on Hercules and tended to his wound.  That the
infection was already showing signs of clearing pleased her.

"Feeling better?"  she asked the gelding, rubbing his nose and giving
him an entire apple.

He munched contentedly until a voice from behind her said, "You're
spending an awful lot of time around here.  Almost as much as Doe Weber
did."

Hercules nervously shied away from the rail as Kate turned to face Whit
Spivey on the other side of the corral fence.  He was grinning at her,
his rotten teeth as ugly as ever.

"If you'd rather have someone else vet your horse, just say so."

"A body'd think the refuge was more important than your private
practice."

"Getting the lay of the land takes a while," she said, wondering where
his conversation was heading.  "And the place has had a few problems
lately."

"None of your concern, though."

The flesh along her spine rising in bumps, Kate stared at the odious
man.  "Doe was my concern."

"The refuge isn't the safe place it used to be," Spivey said, moving
away.  He was heading for the lean-to and the handful of customers
waiting for him.

"I'd be careful where I stepped if I were you."

A warning if she'd ever heard one.

On edge again, Kate thought it a good idea to walk off her anxiety, so
she headed for the visitors' center on foot.  While wet in spots, the
porous ground was free of muck.  Not that she'd donned any of her good
boots.  She was wearing her oldest pair, the tobacco-colored leather
darkened by myriad rains and snows.  The heels had been replaced
several times, the soles once.  But she wouldn't get rid of what she
considered to be her lucky boots--they'd gotten her through vet school.
At the moment she figured she needed all the help she could get.

That was why, tucked beneath her green cotton shirt was Keelin's
version of a medicine pouch.  Kate reminded herself of its
benefits--quieting anxiety, battling fear, calming anger, keeping her
spirits up.

Fat chance.  t she thought gloomily, feeling sick again.  Merle and
Chase.  Please let it not be sot

Though the sky rems lined thick with clouds, they'd seen the last of
the rain early that morning, and more was not expected until late that
night.  The gray day pressed down on Kate, a fitting match to the
depression she was fighting, not only because of the entry in Doc's
journal but because they were no closer to catching the people
responsible for his death and the disappearance of the horses.

She still thought the observation tower was a good idea and meant to
talk to Chase about it again.  Among other, equally disturbing
things.

As she approached the visitors' center, Kate could see through the
screened porch.  Huddled together in the doorway of the office, Annie
and Buck were having an intense conversation that seemed personal.
Almost conspiratorial.

She shook herself.  Now she was seeing demons everywhere.

"We can figure out the details later," Buck was saying, his tone
intent.

Feeling a little odd coming in on their private conversation, Kate made
enough noise opening the screen door to warn them of her arrival.

Upon seeing her, Buck nodded curtly to Annie and turned to leave,
giving Kate the distinct impression that his sudden departure was
directly related to her arrival.  How weird.  Buck had always been
friendly with her.  As he limped out of the visitors' center, he didn't
even look her way.

Wondering what the surprising hostility was about, she stared after
him.

"If you're looking for Chase," Annie said, "he should be back any
minute now.  He's at his cabin finishing that paperwork on the grant
proposal."

"Thanks."  Kate plugged the vending machine with enough coins for a can
of soda.  "I'll wait for him here if you don't mind."  Though she
certainly wouldn't talk to Chase about Merle where anyone could
overhear.  "Say, where's Merle today?"  She hadn't seen the other woman
around.

"She called in sick with stomach flu."

Kate sat and popped open the can, aware that Annie remained wedged in
the office doorway staring holes through her.  Didn't she have anything
better to do?

Taking a sip of soda, Kate tried to remain polite.  "Something I can do
for you?"

"It's what I can do for you."  The volunteer crossed the porch and
lowered herself into the seat opposite Kate.  Her expression was
sympathetic as she qualified her offer.  "If you want to hear the truth
about Chase, that is."

Wondering what Annie was up to this time, Kate asked, "And what truth
would that be?"

"An old one."  About Merle?

The entry in Doc's journal was obsessing her, perhaps because she'd
already suspected Chase and Merle had a history together.  She'd merely
assumed that history had been a bit more up-to-date.

Kate took a big enough sip of pop to wet her suddenly dry throat.  "Say
what you have to say."

"This isn't easy.  Buck was just telling me... Well, he's concerned
that Chase doesn't hurt you a second time."  '

Never having been good friends with Buck, Kate wondered at his sudden
concern, surprised, too, that he knew she'd been in love with Chase.
And if he was worried about her, why had he acted so strangely just
now?

"I'm touched, but I don't think Chase will be taking off without notice
again."

From Annie's confused expression, Kate realized the other woman lladno
clue what she meant.  Which meant Chase's leaving her in the lurch
wasn't the topic in question.  What had the volunteer hoped to share?
Back to Merle?

Taking a longer swallow of soda to hide her nerves, Kate said, "I'd
appreciate your getting to the point."

"Yeah, sure."  Annie looked down at some invisible spot on the table,
her hair sliding forward to mask her expression.  "Buck told me that
when you were teenagers, Chase was never really interested in you."

Relief flowing through her, Kate.  laughed.  "He could have fooled
me."

"I know this isn't something a woman with any kind of pride wants to
hear... but it's the truth," Annie insisted.  "Chase bragged to his
buddies about how someday he was going to have it all, including a girl
who wasn't trailer trash."

Like Merle, she added silently.

Aloud she said, "That doesn't mean he didn't care about me."

"Buck and his brother bet him he couldn't get you.  He took the bet,
Kate," Annie said, lifting her head.  Her blue eyes were filled with
pity.  "That's why he went after you in the first place."

Kate sat too stunned to say a word.  Of all the things she might have
expected Annie to tell her about Chase, his seducing her on a bet had
not been one of them.  And it certainly wasn't something she was ready
to believe.

"Are you all right?"  Annie asked.  "I thought I should tell you before
you got too involved."

Too late.  for that.  Kate asked, "Are you certain you didn't
misunderstand?"

"Sorry."

More to the point "How do I know you aren't making this up?"

"Why would I?"

"Because you want Chase for yourself."

"Not anymore I don't," Annie assured her with a bitter laugh.  "I gave
it my best shot, but now I know I was fooling myself.  And worse, I
realize Chase Brody was never worth everything I did for him to begin
with."  Her gaze steady, she said, "If it wasn't for my loyalty to the
mustangs, I would be packing my bags right now."

It all made sense in a sick sort of way, Kate realized, Chase and Merle
being the real item, she the joke.  Kate's heart twisted painfully. How
did she know it wasn,t true?  Even now, having gone over everything
that happened between her and Chase the night before, she couldn't be
sure of him.  He'd said all the things she'd wanted to hear but one. He
hadn't actually said he loved her.

"You could be playing games with me," she said desperately.  "So that
I'll break up with Chase and you'll have a clear field ... a chance to
grab him on the rebound."

"I should have known better than to do you a favor."  Her expression
pained, Annie pushed herself up from the table.  "Get real, Kate."

Without another ord, Annie flounced outside, letting the screen door
slam behind her.

Leaving Kate with the world crashing down around her ears.

His MOOD BETTER than it had been in cons, Chase felt his heart race
when he saw Kate's pickup bounce along the dirt road toward him.  About
to get into the Bronco, he leaned against the door instead, grinning
like a fool.  He'd finally finished the damn grant request he'd been
playing around with for weeks--maybe the papers would get the refuge
some much-needed money.  He'd worked on them like a madman.  Or a man
insp'n'ed by love.

He waved as Kate pulled up.  He shouldn't be so happy, not with the
villain still on the loose, but she was enough to make any man smile.
Not that she'd better try her wiles on any man but him, Chase
thought.

Kate Farrell was his at last, and she'd better get used to the
notion.

When she jumped out of her pickup, he immediately moved to kiss her,
but Kate avoided his reach.  "We need to talk, Chase.  About us."

Immediately uneasy, he said, "We did that yesterday."

"We did a lot of things yesterday ... some that I hope I won't have
cause to regret."

He couldn't miss the edge in her tone or the way her green gaze had
darkened.  Her body language told him she was keeping a tight rein on
whatever was eating at her.

His gut clenching, he asked, "Did something happen I should know
about?"

"More like the other way around.  Something I should know about.
Actually a couple of somethings."

He was liking this conversation less and less.  "What's going on,
Kate?"

"Did you date Merle Zwick in high school?"

Not exactly what he'd expected her to ask.  "Yeah," he said, relieved.
"A few times.  It didn't mean anything."

Her expression appalled, she demanded, "What you did to her--and your
dating us both at the same time--didn't mean anything?"

"At the same time?  Where did you get that from?"

"And going after me, seducing me, that was because you couldn't resist
me, right?"

His mouth went dry.  She knew.  Why the hell hadn't he told her last
night like he meant to?  He shouldn't have let her stop him.  Then he
could have reassured her.  Now it sounded like someone had confused her
with nonsense about Merle, as well.

"Look, Kate, first of all, I always liked you"

"Liked."  Her face crumpled.  "It's true, then.  I was nothing more to
you than a bet."

Sweat gathered around Chase's neck.  "There was a bet, yes, but"

"But what?"

"But being with you... I fell in love!"

"Of course you did.  That's why you left town without telling me."

"Exactly?  Chase felt sick inside as he watched fury coil her body
tight.  " Because I was scared.  I couldn't handle the adult emotions.
I never told the guys that I slept with you, Kate, honest.  I didn't
collect on the bet, and I wasn't goifig to.  " Even as he realized her
arm was shooting out at him, he continued, " By the time we"

His words were interrupted by her fist finding his jaw and snapping his
head back.  Damn, she had some punch!  he thought ruefully.

"Bastard!  I thought you were a coward, but you were worse!"  Eyes
filled with tears, she said, "You were a user and a liar.  You're lying
now," she accused, "about Merle."

Gingerly he touched his jaw.  It hurt like hell, but at least it wasn't
broken.  "What does Merle have to do with anything?"

"What does she?-- She would have had your baby if she hadn't
miscarried!"

"Baby?"  Flabbergasted, Chase swore and tried to get hold of her, but
again she thwarted him.  "Kate, !  don't know what lies someone has
been telling you, but I didn't father any baby."

"Technically, no, because it didn't have a chance to be born."

"If Merle got herself pregnant, it wasn't by met"

"You can look me in the eye and swear you never slept with Merle?"

His gut clenched.  Chase only wished he could.  "I can swear I never
saw her seriously and certainly not when I was with you"

Her tears cut through his words.  Rivulets ran down her cheeks, and her
eyes were so flooded he knew she couldn't stop.  Kate never cried in
front of anyone.  Never.

"That's all I needed to hear," she sobbed, turning away and leaping
into her pickup.

Feeling more helpless than he had as a kid when his father was using
his fists on him or his mother, Chase didn't try to stop her.  He
didn't know what he could say to make things right between them.  She
had good mason to call him names.  She would never believe he loved her
more than life itself.

Sick at heart, Chase watched the only good thing he'd ever had in his
life speed away from him, certain that this time, she was lost to him
forever.

I'm mow so FaST she had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from
clacking together when she bounced over the ruts in the gravel road.
What a fool she'd been over Chase Brody.  Even when faced with his
lies, he couldn't be truthful with her.  Angry with herself for letting
him see her cry, she slashed at the trail of tears on her cheeks.

She didn't slow down until she was off refuge property.

Breathing deeply, she got hold of herself, but she couldn't put Chase
out of her mind.  Like some broken record, their argument played over
and over in her head.  She kept hearing him say he hadn't lathered any
child and if Merle had gotten pregnant, it wasn't by him.

What if he was telling the truth?  How would she ever know?  Merle.

Of course Merle would know.

Kate wondered if she dared approach the other woman about such a
sensitive subject.  But how could she not?  She had to be certain of
whether or not Chase was telling the truth--though even if another man
had lathered the baby, that didn't excuse Chase for the other.

Seducing her on a bet sounded so sordid.

But Chase had said he'd never collected, had never meant to.  He'd
claimed he'd fallen in love with her--words she'd longed to hear the
night before.  If he'd been honest about the baby, she thought
desperately, then perhaps the rest of his explanation was true, as
well.

Coming to an intersection, she didn't hesitate.  She turned off the
main road.  Annie had said Merle was at home with the stomach flu.  A
minute later Kate found the mailbox marked Zwick and took the dirt road
up a small rise.  She parked her pickup, went to the trailer and
knocked at the door.

No answer.

She looked around and realized Merle's pickup was gone.  Undoubtedly
feeling better after having rested all day--it was nearly
dinnertime--the woman had left the premises.  Frustration made Kate
slap the door with the flat of her hand.  It creaked open.  "Merle?"

Maybe Merle was still home sick.  Too sick to answer the door?

Perhaps she should check on her.  Doc would.  "Merle?"  she called
again, louder.

Kate took a deep breath as she stared into the empty room.  Her heart
pounded as she realized what she was considering doing.  She could
check on more than the sick woman, Kate thought, struggling with the
decision.

She respected privacy, had never before walked into someone's place
without permission.  But maybe something in the trailer would tell her
what she needed to know.

Kate stepped inside.

The common room was neat.  No dirty dishes.  No piles of mail or
magazines.  Everything in its place.  Not that Merle had a lot.

Sweeping her gaze around the room, she noted the single bookshelf and
kitchen cabinets.  Not places a woman would be likely to store a
souvenir of the past.

"Merle?"  she called again as she advanced to the bedroom.  Empty. Kate
stared.  For a plainspoken woman who worked at a job usually reserved
for men, she certainly did have her feminine, even sensual, nature. 
Satin bedspread.  Heart-shaped pillows.  Mirrored ceding.

Shame stealing through her, Kate started to back out, intending to
leave immediately, when an object on the nightstand caught her eye.

Hesitating only a second, she took the few steps necessary to pick up
the object--a heavy ring, the metal band wrapped with yarn.  The kind
of thing a high-school girl might do so her boyfriend's ring would fit.
She snapped on the lamp to take a better look at the high-school
graduation ring dated 1978-the year she'd fallen in love with Chase.
The year he and Merle had been seniors.

To Kate's everlasting relief, the initials were GD, not CB.  She nearly
cried with relief.  It seemed Chase had been telling the truth about
the baby issue.

As for the other.  Kate set down the ring and turned off the lamp,
hoping Merle would never have to know about her little visit.

She felt the need to think things through alone before facing Chase
again.  And yet she didn't want to abandon the refuge and the
investigation that was so important to its continued existence.

On the way back to her pickup, she thought of a way to kill two birds
with one stone.

Chapter Twelve

"Do we flip a coin to see who gets you?"  Hank the hunk asked as he and
his buddies accompanied Thea Lockridge across the grounds, tennis
rackets in hand.

"I prefer picking my own partner--in whatever sport I'm playing," Thea
returned with a husky laugh.  "I find things so much more satisfying
that way."

"And I like a woman who takes charge," one of the other men
mock-growled.

Kate waited until their voices trailed off, then left her hiding
spot--some bushes alongside the outfitters building.  Upon leaving
Merle's, she'd driven directly to Lockridge Acres and had easily found
the service road.  The pickup was about a quarter of a mile back,
hidden by a stand of trees.  She'd walked the rest of the way.

About to commit her second crime of the day, she carefully looked
around to make certain no one else was nearby to see her before trying
the entry door.  The knob turned easily.  Unlocked, as she'd hoped. 
She slipped inside.

Getting into the gun room was a different story, however.  Braced by a
pair of mounted heads on either side--one elk, the other pronghorn
antelope--its door wouldn't budge.  Even if she could break the glass
inset and stick her arm through to the knob, broken glass would alert
Thea to an intruder when she returned.

Peering into the darkened room through the narrow window, she could
make out a gun cabinet stocked with rifles and a couple of smaller
wooden cupboards.  In hopes f locating another window or vent unit that
might give her an alternative, private entry, she checked the next
room.  All she found on the joint wall were bags filled with golf clubs
and tennis rackets hanging from hooks.

The main room itself was lodge like two small seating areas flanking a
marble-trimmed fireplace.  The only other significant piece of
furniture was a hurled-wood desk on which stood a large cut-crystal
vase of fresh flowers.

Kate searched the desk drawers, hoping to find a key.

No luck.

She was wondering if she could figure out how to use one of the pins
from her hair to pick the lock--they always did that sort of thing in
movies--when she heard male voices almost directly outside the entry
door.

"I need to get something inside."

"I'll stay here and finish my smoke."  "Be right with you."

Heart hammering, Kate dropped to the floor and crawled under the desk,
praying the man wasn't planning on coming her way.  Curled into a ball,
she practically held her breath so as not to give herself away, but his
footsteps led to the other side of the room.

Relieved, she uncoiled slightly and peered out from under the desk. The
man's boots approached the gun-room door.  He stopped and made a
jingling noise.  Since she could only see the lower part of the room,

she couldn't tell what he was doing.

"Damreit!"

The grunted curse gave her such a start she whomped her head on the
lower edge of the desk.  Above, the vase rocked.  Kate nearly panicked,
fearing he'd hear, fearing the weight of the flowers would carry the
cut crystal over and break it.  But the vase settled and the man went
on with his business.  He shuffled a few steps from the gun-room entry,
hesitated, then moved back.  The scrape of metal on metal told her he
was unlocking the door.

Thinking it might be helpful if she could see more of what was going
on, she crawled out of her hiding place to peer around the desk.

Just then, the entry door opened and the second man yelled, "Hey,
what's taking you so long?"

Kate flattened herself against the outside of the desk, trapped in full
view if either man cared to look her way.  Sweat broke out over her
body.

"Forgot my key," came the answer from the gun room.  "I'm coming."

The door slammed and the lock clicked in place.  A few seconds' pause,
and the man crossed to his companion.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a rattler.  Got any plans for dinner?"

"Hey, I'm open to some company.  Where to?"  The entry door closed,
leaving Kate alone with the pounding of her heart and a trickle of
sweat rolling down her spine.  She nearly collapsed with relief.
Instinct told her to get the hell out while the going was good.  But
even in her fright, she hadn't missed the man's reference to his key to
the gun room.

If he'd forgotten his, how had he gotten inside?  Scrambling to her
feet, she considered the gun-room entryway and wondered where the spare
key to the door was hidden.  The man had barely moved a couple of feet
to the left: Her gaze shifted and met the glass stare of the elk.  Her
stomach tightening, she crossed the short space and reached up to move
her hands over the mounted head.

"Sorry," she whispered, not unaware of the irony of its being the
repository of the death warrant for others of its species

Behind one of the antlers, her fingers hit something hard and out of
place.  The key went flying to the floor.  Kate snatched it up and
seconds later was inside the gun room, praying the storage cabinets
would give her easier access than the door had.

The first cupboard opened without a problem, but to her disappointment,
held camouflage vests and hats, rappeling equipment and balaclavas.
Puzzled, she picked up one of the head-and-face coverings with openings
for the eyes, wondering if the hunters really felt it necessary to hide
their identities from the animals they were about to kill.  Though to
her way of thinking they should be embarrassed and ashamed of
themselves, she was certain that was not the case.

A sudden loud noise directly outside the building froze her to the
spot.  Kate listened hard for a moment before deciding she wasn't being
threatened with discovery.

Anxious to get the hell out of there and off Lock-ridge Acres, she
exposed the contents of the second cupboard.  Her gaze skipped over the
shelves holding the smaller items and settled on the bottom where a
half-dozen padded bags were lined up.  Grabbing one,

she unzipped it and checked the contents to be sure.  Eureka!

With the bag over her shoulder, she left the room the way she'd found
it, then replaced the key with a silent apology to its holder.

Her success would be better than any apology, and if Thea Lockridge
turned out to be one of the perpetrators, as Kate expected, providing
the means for her own capture was another irony Kate could
appreciate.

THE WIND SOUGHED between the buttes at the foot of the incline, the
strange sad sound fitting Kate's midnight mood.  Above, only the
brightest of stars probed the gathering rain clouds, and the waning
moon continually fought them to keep its place in the night sky.  Sheet
lightning ripped through the dark and danced in waves around her as if
covering the sides of a bowl with her its center.

The wait had been interminable.  She'd picked at her dinner until it
had turned cold, after which she'd tried to sleep for a few hours only
to dream of Chase.  All in all, she was more frustrated than she was
rested, not to mention disappointed that the man hadn't tried to find
her, hadn't even called.

She fingered the medic' me pouch, remembered the magic it had worked on
both of them the night before.  Or so she'd believed.  Chase had told
her his thoughts and dreams were filled with her.  And he wasn't the
type of man who gave up easily when he really wanted something.

So what was she supposed to think?

At least choosing to take action had given her purpose, as well as a
good scare on her way to the refuge.

Despite the late hour, a vehicle had followed her straight out of town,
and whether she'd slowed down or sped up, the other driver had kept an
even distance between them.  When she'd turned off onto a side road
that ran behind the rfuge, however, the other vehicle had continued
south.

Until that moment she hadn't realized she'd been mentally holding her
breath.

Her magnified view from the rickety old observation tower allowed Kate
to see the better part of the refuge's north and west boundaries,
either of which was a more likely horse-removal route than the east,
which was closer to the main road and possible witnesses

She was using the binoculars she'd "borrowed" from Thea's cache.  Very
special and powerful infrared binoculars that captured light from even
the faintest of sources and multiplied it tens of thousands of times.
The night-vision goggles probably made her look like some alien
creature, but they operated hands-free except for the binocular
function.  The heavy headgear was padded for comfort and worked off a
battery pack she'd strapped to her body.

Still.  standing alone in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the
night, buffeted by the rising wind and surrounded by erratic lightning,
spooked her.  She brought the medicine pouch to her nose and inhaled.
As Keelin had promised, the fragrances soothed her anxiety, calmed her
fears and renewed her spirit.  She tucked the pouch inside her shirt,
where she could feel it touch her skin.

Then she concentrated on her task, her enhanced gaze sweeping over the
property.

She had a nearly normal view--as long as she didn't try to focus on
anything that was too close.  If she did, she might as well have been
blind.  For the first time, she could really empathize with a horse's
inability to focus on distant and near objects simultaneously, the main
reason for its shying at an unknown article on the ground while holding
its head high and concentrating on some distant spot.

For the most part, though, the slightly distorted world around Kate was
revealed to her in green-colored clarity.

A world alive with creatures more comfortable with the night than she.
Coyotes.  Owls.  A cougar hunting for its dinner.  Though the big cats
were rare and kept to themselves out of self-protection--because of
man, their numbers had dwindled--a few remained secreted in the
hills.

And, of course, in every direction, she made out wild horses.  Mostly
the animals remained perfectly still, dozing while standing.  But
insomnia didn't seem to be peculiar to human beings.  She'd just caught
one mustang nuzzling another along the spine, a sure display of
affection, when a crash from the opposite direction alerted her. Though
she whipped around, she barely caught a hint of motion as whatever it
was melded with a stone outcropping to the north.

Kind of big for a coyote, she thought, her stomach tying in a knot.

What then?

She didn't want to think whatever was out there could be human.  "

Uneasy, adjusting her binoculars to focus on that patch of rocks, Kate
started to cross to the opposite rail.  The wood beneath her foot
protested.  Stopping abruptly, she circumvented the weak spot, finding
a safer route by testing before stepping.  Looking down would only put
her senses out of kilter.

Throat dry, pulse.  pounding, she kept watch at the west rail.  She
wait&l for a repeat movement--movement of any kind.  All remained still
but for tree branches wavering in the wind and lightning creeping
across the sky.

Eventually her physical responses normalized and Kate let down her
guard.

Her mind had 'been playing tricks on her, she decided, as it continued
to do by drifting to thoughts of Chase.  To whether or not she could
believe him.  Believe in him.  She did believe in him when it came to
his dedication to the refuge.

But what about to her?

Maybe she expected too much, which made it her problem, rather than
his.  She'd always known something intrinsic 'in her kept the men she
cared.  about from committing to her without qualification.

Chase had admitted he hadn't told her he was leaving town because of
fear.  Given the opportunity, would he say he feared her now?  Hard to
grasp when she felt anything but intimidating or scary.

If only humans were as easy to understand as the animals she treated.
Touch revealed their innermost beings to her.

Touching Chase left her in the dark.

As she walked around the perimeter of the observation platform, Kate
had to back off weak spots several times.  She was becoming edgy and
bored.  Sheer stubbornness kept her at her post.  Kept her scanning the
horizon for some indication of trouble.

At first she didn't recognize the lone horse as such.  " The animal
moved across the flat at a constant, if moderate, speed.  Gradually
Kate began to wonder where the rest of the band might be And the route
seemed predetermined.  The dark bay was heading in a straight line,
directly toward the northwest comer of the refuge.  Directly toward the
area that held the isolation corrals, which she couldn't see because
her view of the flat there was blocked by rock formations and tall
ponderosa pines.

Readjusting the binoculars, she brought the horse into focus and
realized it was neither a mustang nor alone.  A rider sat its back.  A
rider she couldn't identify, but one whose posture told her it was
someone other than Chase.

Her head went light with the realization.

Tonight was the night.  t

A combination of triumph and dread spurred her toward the stairs.  A
five-minute drive would get her to Chase's cabin, she calculated.  With
a clammy hand, she hung on to the stair railing and kept her focus on
the mounted horse, still too far in the distance for her to recognize
its rider.

Together she and Chase would stop any more mustangs from vanishing.

Together they would reveal the identity of the person responsible for
Doc's death.

About three-quarters of the way down the observation-tower stairs, it
occurred to her that Chase might not be at his cabin.  The thought gave
her such a start that she faltered and mis stepped

The second she felt the wood give beneath her, Kate shifted her weight,
but too late.  Her foot slid through the opening and something sharp
sliced her calf.  She caught herself with both hands to keep from
tumbling over.  Or through the rotten wood.  The rickety railing swayed
with her weight, and Kate's efforts to focus on her situation only made
her sick to her stomach.

Damn!  Why hadn't she removed the headgear before taking the stairs?

Now she didn't dare let go of the rail to do anything other than free
her-pant leg, caught on splintered wood.  One wrong movement could mean
injury-- or worse.

In the distance thunder rumbled a warning.  Blindly she felt for the
fragments holding her fast, first removing the bit that still stabbed
her.  Pain shot through her calf.  Ignoring the hot throbbing, she
concentrated on undoing the damage, one splinter at a time.

At last she could move her leg if not free it.  What was holding her
now?

Carefully, eyes closed, she plunged her free hand through the break in
the step and found the problem-another spike of wood had caught the
material at her ankle.  Her boot had prevented her from feeling it.

Freeing her leg at last, she was trying to stand when the sound of
pounding against wood finally registered above a sharper clap of
thunder.  The sky lit--closer this time--and she saw a figure rushing
up the stairs at her.

"No!"  she screamed, unable to tell who it was.

He had his hands on her, was pulling her by one arm.  She lost her
balance and fell down several steps before regaining her feet.  Who?
Buck?  Could the lame man move this quickly?  Or was it Nathan?

Her hands flew to the headgear, but before she could loosen the straps
holding the night-vision binoculars in place, he gave her another
shove.  She fell sideways, tumbling from one step to the next, stopping
only when she hit the sandy earth.  Winded, she tried to get up, but
before she could manage to do anything but reassure herself nothing was
broken, he had her by the scruff of the neck and was dragging her like
an animal.

Rocks and trees careened around her.  Even if she had the strength to
fight him--which at the moment was a moot point--she was too
disoriented to help herself.

As she tried to keep up with him to lessen the pain, Keelin's medicine
pouch slid over her chest.  If only it could help her now!  She
remembered her cousin saying that, to save Tyler's daughter, she'd
called on power she hadn't known she'd possessed.

If only Keelin could see through her eyes.  That was it.  t

Kate grabbed at the pouch beneath her shirt and concentrated.  With all
her conscious will, she sent her Irish cousin an American SOS, praying
Keelin would receive it loud and clear.

And send help in the form of Chase Brody.

"I WON'T SPEND a night on McKenna property as long as James owns it,"
Uncle Charlie said while he paced the length of the Farrell family
room.

Knowing her aunt Rose and cousin Neil were already sold on the reunion
idea, Keelin smiled.  "Then I've a solution.  You'll be welcome to stay
at my cottage.  Da doesn't own it or the land, because Gran left both
cottage and herb garden to me.  Unless you've a problem with me, as
well as with my father."

"No!"  her uncle protested.  "I think you're a fine young woman,
Keelin.  I'm very fond of you."  He stopped in back of his wife's chair
and rubbed her arm affectionately.  "You remind me of my Rose."

Tyler was squeezing Keelin's hand, and across from her, Aunt Rose was
beaming.

"I'm flattered, Uncle Charlie."

Keelin was thinking that her stubborn uncle was on the verge of giving
way when a distinct impression coming out of nowhere intruded on her.
rocks.  trees.  night sky tinted green.  "Keeling" the sky pierced with
white electric arrows.  "Kate?"  Keelin whispered, shocked to her very
core.  "Is that you?"

Kathleen?  "" Aunt Rose glanced around the room, looking for her
daughter.  Frowning, she asked,

"Keelin, what about Kathleen?"

"I believe she's in trouble."

Keelin swiftly closed her eyes and concentrated, relaxing body parts,
one after the other, in effect, hypnotizing herself.  She quickly shut
out the anxious voices of the people around her, registering them only
as a murmur in the background.  HE SWUNG OPEN a door to the vehicle and
pushed her inside.  Her body fairly screamed with renewed pain.  Vision
distorted, she'd never felt dizzier in her life.

Keelin, please, please hear met

Steadying herself with one hand, she shot the other to her head, but
before she could rip the goggles from her face so she could identify
him, he grabbed her wrist and cruelly twisted her arm behind her
back.

About to give in to the pain and the despair, she felt it.  another
presence probing her mind.  another pair of eyes seeing the same
distorted images.

Keelin, thank God.  t She was so happy she felt like weeping.  Call
Chase, tell him it's now.  The isolation corrals.  And tell him to
hurry.  t

As her hands were tied together, all she could do to help herself was
repeat her silent message in case her cousin hadn't gotten it all the
first time .  KEELIN OPENED her eyes to the concerned gaze of Kate's
parents and brother.  Tyler was holding on to her as if he guessed what
she was about.

"What's wrong?"  he asked softly.

"" Tis Kate.  She's in desperate trouble," Keelin said, feeling dazed.
Nothing like this--someone signaling and her receiving the message--had
ever happened to her before.  " I must be calling this Chase of hers.
"

"Chase Brody?"  her uncle asked.  "He's nothing to my daughter."

Not about to argue the point, she said, "Your daughter's life may
depend on him."

"You saw..."  Aunt Rose whispered, wide-eyed.  "Like your grandmother
used to, God rest her soul.  The number..."  She looked to her son.

Neil was already picking up the telephone.

After WHAT SEEMED an interminable wait, the door opened and rough hands
pulled at Kate once more.

She kicked out, but the man grabbed her leg, managing to get his hands
around her WOunded calf, and pulled her roughly out of the vehicle. She
landed on her back.

She shrieked and yelled, "Bastard!"  as much for Doe and the horses as
for the pain he caused her.

"I told you she was trouble," her abuser said.  "Followed her outta
town and caught her spying, trying to set a trap."

"By herself?  Untie her hands."

"So the bitch can gouge out my eyes?"

"Do it and get the truck!"

Recognizing both voices, Kate turned to face the rider who was far
enough away to be in focus.  A sad wind whipped between them.  Though
she'd considered the possibility, she hadn't wanted to believe it.

"I'm sorry it's you," she said as her hands were freed.

She removed the goggles and let them drop to the ground.  The battery
pack followed.  Vaguely she heard the engine start and the vehicle
speed off with a squeal of wheels.  Dozens of mustang voices were
raised in protest.  More than one of the corrals was already filled.

The rider dismounted.  "And I'm sorry you couldn't keep your nose where
it belonged, Kate."

"You mean like Doe?"

"You may not believe this, but I hated his having to die.  I didn't
mean for anyone to get hurt but the one who deserved it--Chase
Brody."

Not even the horses?

Knowing she was next, Kate pleaded, "Then stop now."  '

A bitter laugh was followed by "I'd rather be dead myself than rot in
some prison.  Hell, I'm already dead.  Have been for half my life."

"And you want me to join you."

"All the witnesses will."

Kate looked past the mastermind behind the refuge's demise to the
corral where the only true witnesses to Doc's death were trapped--Sage
and her girls.  Lightning bowled the area and gave her a long last look
at the wild horses she'd grown to love.  They were full of nervous
energy, as if they recognized their fate.

Kate felt sick knowing they would he sentenced to a more ignominious
death than she.

Chapter Thirteen

"Why couldn't you have left well enough alone, Kate?"  Merle asked,
holding her rifle steady on the nosy woman.  Regret was becoming nearly
as familiar an emotion to her as hatred.  "Why couldn't you just accept
the medical examiner's findings like everyone else?"

"I did.  At first."

"Something changed your mind.  And don't tell me the mustangs told you
differently."  Even as she spoke, Merle wondered if there could be any
truth to the claim.  But no.  Then Kate would have pointed an accusing
finger days ago.  "Nathan gave me some cock-and-bull story about your
being able to know what animals are thinking."

"What's your theory?"

"That Doc left something behind that made you suspicious."

Merle was fishing, hoping that if there was anything, Kate would say
so.  Then she would make certain to destroy any evidence.  But Kate
wasn't cooperating.

"How could you have killed Doc after he tried to save your baby?"  she
asked.

Startled, Merle drew closer.  "How do you know about the baby?"

"Without Doc's help you might have died."  Remembering the horror of
the miscarriage, Merle shivered.  Or perhaps it was the rising wind
that scraped at her.  A storm was brewing, the likes of which they'd
seen the night Doc died.  She could smell the rain ready to fall.  And
the wild horses were getting spooked.

"A woman isn't alive merely because her body's still walking around
after her heart's been cut out," she said.  "I lost everything to Chase
Brody."

"Chase didn't murder Gil."

"You know about him, too?"  Doe must have told Kate a lot of things
that were none of her business.

"I found the high-school graduation ring.  GD, for Gil Duran."

"You were snooping in my things!"

How dared Kate touch the one thing she had left of Gill The thing she'd
stolen from the mortuary where he'd been laid out.

The damage to Gil had been too severe for there to be an open casket,
so she'd broken into the place the night before the funeral to say her
goodbyes.  What she'd seen had been bearable only because she'd found
his ring with his other effects and was holding on to it tight for
comfort.

After that fearing someone would take it away from her, she'd worn the
ring only in secret.  She'd worn it when she made love to other men so
she could pretend they were Gil.

And Kate had violated that.

"You have no idea what it's like to love a man with your very soul."

"I think I do," Kate argued.  "I love Chase the same way you loved Gil.
But his death was a tragic accident."

"Your lover was drunk!"

"They were all drunk.  All three of them should have known better than
to work with heavy machinery" -- "If he wasn't guilty, then why did
Chase run?"

"He was young am stupid.  They all were, Merle.  I think in your heart
you know that."

Not anything Merle wanted to hear.  She'd nursed her grievances for too
many years to give them up now.

"Gil would have married me," she said as the first fat drops of rain
began to fall.  "We would have made a life together, and not in some
damn trailer.  My child wasn't going to be called trash like I was.  I
wasn't going to be like my mother..."

But she had turned out like her mother, bedding anything in pants,
though not for money.  That was Chase's fault, too.  If Gil had lived,
things would have been different.  She would be different. Respectable.
 Noting Kate's expression of pity, Merle grew angry.

"Gil was the only one who ever took me seriously," she went on.  "He
died... then our baby... my grief over losing Gil was so intense I
couldn't hold on to it... and I never had another chance at life."

"Because you didn't give yourself one," Kate argued.  "How many people
do you intend to hurt, or worse, before this is over for you?"

"I told you I was sorry about Doe... and you.  I'm not a murderer.  All
I wanted was to take Chase's dream away from him.  I wanted to destroy
him emotionally the way he did me."

"But Chase meant you no harm.  He meant G-il no harm.  Can't you accept
that?"

"No.  And neither can Buck.  You ask him... Oh, I forgot--you won't be
able to."

"If you shoot me, they'll trace the bullets back to you," Kate said.

That was a crock and Merle knew it.  "If I wanted to shoot you, I would
have done it the other night.  I did my best to scare you off."  Again
regret and something stronger--guilt?  --nagged at her.  "Why didn't
you run and not look back?"

As usual Kate ignored her, asking, "Then how do you plan to kill me?"

"I don't plan on doing anything to you.  I didn't do anything to Doc,
either," Merle said, trying to convince herself.  "He was in the wrong
place at the wrong time is all."

"Like Gil was?"

"No!  It's not the same thing!"

"Merle, it doesn't have to be like this.  You can stop now.  You can
prove you're nothing like your"

Not wanting to hear anything else that might confuse her, Merle lashed
out with her rifle barrel to shut Kate's mouth.  Metal clunked against
skull.  Kate's eyes rolled and her knees gave way.

She sank to the ground, quiet at last.

And Merle was still trying to convince herself she was not a murderer
as she walked over to the nearest corral filled with restless mustangs
and opened the gate wide.

CHASE PRESSED HIS FOOT to the floor.  The Bronco bucked and twisted
over the rugged terrain.  Forget the roads.  He was taking every safe
shortcut--and some not-so-safe--he could think of.  He couldn't get to
the isolation corrals fast enough.

Keelin's call had taken him by surprise, but he hadn't wasted time
arguing with her or denying anything.  If Kate could talk to animals,
he guessed her cousin could see through someone else's eyes.  Besides,
he'd heard not only the ring of truth in Keelin's words, but her panic;
as well.

He only hoped he wasn't too late.

What the hell had he been thinking, letting Kate go off half-cocked? He
should have tied her up until she'd agreed to listen, to believe that
he loved her.

He could lose anything and survive it with the woman he loved b)/his
side.  But he couldn't lose her.  Not again.  No fool, he knew that
losing her this time might be permanent.

Look at what had happened to Doc.  It suddenly struck him.  the
isolation corrals.  the stampede.  Chase swore when he couldn't make
the Bronco go faster.  His gut was tied in knots, and he felt a searing
pain where his heart should be.

He was so intent on speed that he almost missed the wash of high beams
cutting through the night.  Paralleling the road, the.  Bronco was
slightly ahead of a sixteen-wheeler barreling in the same direction.
What the hell was a truck that size doing on this road at this time of
night.  Unless.  Tell him it's now.  the isolation corrals.  He hadn't
exactly understood the first part of the message.  But he did now. Kate
had been trying to tell him that another roundup was in progress! The
truck was on that road at that time of night because more of his wild
horses were about to vanish!

Though it killed him to do it, he slowed a tad and made for the road,
bumping up over the shoulder.  A blast from the truck's horn told him
the driver had spotted him.  Good.

Chase pulled the Bronco directly in front of the six-teen-wheeler and
purposely slowed even more.

More blasts cut through the night.  Headlights flicked in his rearview
mirror.  Chase tapped the brake a few times and grinned like the devil
himself when he heard the truck downshift.  What a hell of a way to
play chicken!

He repeated his maneuver until the sixteen-wheeler downshifted again.

Then, suddenly, it made a break, tried to go around him.

Ahead lay a treacherous curve with a steep embankment.  Rain dropped
like a curtain over the windshield.  Flipping on his wipers, Chase took
his chances, staying directly in front of the truck to distract the
driver, only at the last minute pulling away.  Through his mirrors, he
saw the massive vehicle skid.  The body jackknifed around the cab, and
the multi-ton vehicle landed on its side.

Chase brought the Bronco to a screeching halt.  Backed up.  All the
while watching for some sign of life crawling from the cab.  Nothing
moved.  Next to the immobilized truck, Chase stopped and hopped out. He
climbed aboard the cab's side and peered into the open window as
lightning danced around him, illuminating the interior.  Wedged behind
the wheel, the driver was regaining consciousness.

"Spivey!"

So the terrible things done to the refuge had been for nothing more
significant than money, after all.  The missing horses.  More important
and unforgivable, Doc's death.

"Get me an ambulance," the other man whined.  "My ribs... and I think
my leg is broken."

"Good.  That me alas you won't be going anywhere."  Though he had a
million questions to ask Spivey--including where to find his wild
horses--Chase had a more pressing mission.  "Where the hell's Kate?  Is
she in danger?  Who have you been working with?"

But Spivey was pa ting him no mind.  Rather, he was blubbering to
himself.

A waste of timet

Chase felt more than justified in leaving the bastard to suffer while
he went after the woman he loved.  Getting back into his truck, he
heard the man's cat-emauling above another rumble that shook the
skies.

Maybe the pain, would make Spivey contemplate his sins and some prison
time.  Hopefully a long enough sentence to fill in the remaining spaces
of his lowly life.

"One down and one to go," he muttered, staring at a clear spot on his
windshield.  "Hang on, Kate, hang on."

KATE CAME TO spitting fresh mud, her ears filled with the squeal of an
angry horse.  Pushing herself to her hands, she shook her head and
tried to rise, even as mustangs began milling out of their pens.

"Sorry, Kate!"  came a voice through the fog of her headache.

Kate lifted her face to the wet sky.  Needles of rain drove away the
haze.  Near the corrals, now open, Merle was mounted and raising her
rifle.  The sharp blast, added to an echoing crack of thunder, spooked
the wild horses.  They shoved one another, tried to jump over one
another's backs in their panic to run from the threat.  Merle squeezed
off another round.

Freed horses ran blindly.  She was in their path, Kate realized,
fighting to get to her feet.  Every inch of her hurt, though the pain
would be nothing compared to what she'd ex per  ence if caught beneath
the sharp hooves of several tons of horseflesh.

Heart pounding, she knew she couldn't stop them.  She certainly
couldn't outrun them.

What she could do was pray she would be alive after they'd passed by.

Suddenly a mustang flew directly in front of her.  stopping on a dime.
nose pushing at her.  squealing at her.

Dazed, Kate gasped, "Sage!"  and realized the mare had come to her
rescue.

Though she fathomed Sage had never been ridden, she grabbed a fistful
of wet mane and launched herself upward.  The nervous grulla danced
sideways as members of a band that was not hers flew by, buffeting
them, sprinting east along the road.  Suddenly headlights shot out of
nowhere, and the mini-stampede turned even as more mustangs freed
themselves.  Horses milled in confusion, butting heads, one going down
in the fray.

Sickened by the animal's scream, Kate clung to Sage's back for her very
life as the vehicle shot by them, then came to a screeching halt.  She
recognized the Bronco.

So did Merle, who, jostled in the confusion, was reloading her rifle
with difficulty.

Chase flew out of his car, and Kate knew Merle would shoot him now that
she was exposed.

Instinctively Kate thought to get to the woman to stop her, that wish
seemingly transferring to Sage, who cut straight toward Mede's big bay.
The mare showed her dominance, squealing and nipping at horseflesh to
force them through the melee.  As the gap between the women closed,
Kate reached out to grab the title--her hand closing around the
still-warm barrel--even as Merle tried to take aim.

"Let go!"  a furious Merle screamed.

Kate jerked the barrel up, yelling, "Stop!  It's over!"  They struggled
for command of the weapon, both mounts dancing around each other.  Kate
eventually got a double grip on the rifle.  With her free hand, Merle
went for her face.  Ducking, Kate gave the rifle a hard twist and
tugged.  The other woman refused to let go and, whether or not she did
so purposely, squeezed the trigger.  The shot renewed the panic around
them.

Merle's bay leapt forward.  Still clinging to the rifle, she lost her
seat, her fall finally ripping her death grip from the weapon.  For a
moment triumphant, Kate looked around wildly for Chase across the sea
of freaked-out horses.  He was trying to find a safe path to her.

She yelled to get his attention.  "Chase, catch!"  Then she pitched the
title to him.

Sage pranced around Merle as she got to her feet.  Knowing anything
could set off the herd again, Kate offered the woman her hand, but she
refused to take it.

"I told you I won't rot in prison!"

Before Kate knew what she was about, Merle backed away, straight into
the milling horses.  A paint jostled one shoulder, an Appaloosa the
other.  She went deeper into their midst, buffeted but determined.
Suddenly a current popped around them like a great electrical circuit
coming to life.  The land was thrown into blue-white clarity as sheet
lightning circled them, followed by a crash loud enough to move the
earth.

And the wild horses.  A renewed stampede was on.

One minute Merle was there, the next minute gone, lost beneath hoofed
feet.

Kate stared in shocked silence, even knowing Merle had been ready to
die.  Then the mustangs were gone, all except Sage, who quivered and
complained but pranced in place.  A few yards away, Merle lay still,
cove.  red with mud and her own blood, which the rain was already
washing away.

"Kate!"  Chase yelled, finally catching up to her.  "Are you all
right?"

Letting go of the grulla's mane, she held her arms out to him and was
pulled into his wet embrace.  Though every inch of her protested, Kate
didn't complain.

Still gripping the rifle, Chase held her tight.  "I

thought I might be too late.  "

"Too late for Merle."

Freeing herself, Kate limped over to the downed woman and checked for a
pulse to be certain.  When she didn't find one, she gazed up at Chase
through the rain and shook her head.

"I don't understand," he said.  "Why?"

"Gil fathered the baby she miscarried, and Merle held you responsible
for both their deaths.  I'll tell you as much as I know," she promised.
"But first we have to find Whit"

"I already stopped him.  Let's take care of you."  "In a minute."

Though Sage had backed off, she hadn't fled.  Kate slid both hands
around the mare's neck and touched foreheads.  Closing her eyes, she
concentrated, mentally giving the mustang her thanks .  picturing Doc
with smiling eyes and a happy grin splitting his beloved old face..

As if she, too, saw, the grulla whinnied deep in her throat, backed off
and, with a nod of her heavy head, whirled around and chased after her
companions.  Kate's eyes filled with tears as her gaze drifted to where
the mustang that had gone down earlier lay in the muck valiantly trying
to rise.

Next to her Chase said, "I'll take care of it."

She turned her back so she wouldn't have to see, but a shudder ripped
through her at the rifle blast.  Softly she began to cry for all who'd
fallen because of Merle's twisted righteousness.

Chase put his arms around her waist and-dipped his head next to hers.
He held her and waited out her tears.

"I think they're all dead," she sobbed.  "All the mustangs they took...
Merle wouldn't have had the money to pay for help, and Whit Spivey's
not the type of person who'd do anything for nothing."

"I've thought of that," Chase said.

Neither of them uttered the unspeakable, that the wild horses had
probably been sold to some none-too-scrupulous supplier of horse
meat.

Chase turned her in his arms.  "How did you get Sage to let you on her
back?"

Through rain and tears, she gazed up at the man she loved.  "She
offered.  Isn't it amazing?"

"You're an amazing woman."  He ran his knuckles along her cheek.  "This
is amazing.  I can't believe I've found you again after all these
years.  If you can forgive me, that is."

"I already have," she said truthfully.  When she'd told Merle that
Chase had been young and stupid and had asked her to forget the past,
she knew that was exactly what she needed to do.  "The question is, how
long do you plan on keeping me this time?"

"Forever... if you'll have me."

As Chase kissed her with more emotion than passion, Kate responded in
kind, vaguely realizing their timing seemed predestined.

Why was she surprised?

In a world where touch allowed her to communicate with animals and her
cousin to see through another's eyes, it only made sense that the
grandmother from whom they'd both inherited their special gifts could
work even more magic using the power of love.

The McKenna Legacy had offered Kate an inheritance she planned on
cherishing for the rest of her life.

Epilogue

County Cork, Eire

On the McKenna triplets' sixtieth birthday, Kate and her cousin Skelly
were sharing a few moments alone with Keelin between a buffet dinner
and the official toast and cutting of the cake.  Kate found the
whitewashed, thatch-roofed cottage Keelin had inherited from their
grandmother as charming as anything she and Chase had seen in the past
week.  Delaying the honeymoon certainly had been worth the wait.

"Moira, my dear, thank you," Skelly said to the rafters.  "You gave me
the best inheritance a man could ever receive."

Knowing he was besotted with his wife, Rosalind, Kate smiled and
admired the plain gold band on her own left ring finger.  "Our
grandmother knew what was important in life."

"If only finding our heart's desire did not need to be such a dangerous
venture," Keelin said.  "I wonder if Gran knew what we were in for."

"I suspect so," Kate said.  "Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy.  And
we've all survived to tell the tale.  We are her descendants, remember.
Think of what a rich history we'll be leaving our children and
grandchildren."  She looked to Skelly.  "A history you could write."

"I've already thought about it," he admitted.  "Though I might have to
resort to fiction, since I doubt anyone will believe it's the truth."

Considering how complicated the truth could be, he was undoubtedly
correct, Kate thought.  They'd gotten details from Whit.  It still
saddened her that they'd been correct about the rustled mustangs' being
sold to suppliers of horse meat that went into dog food.  A horrific
irony since that was the very fate the law was supposed to protect the
wild horses against.  But at least no one else had been involved.  Whit
had tried to enlist Buck, who'd talked a good game but hadn't actually
carried out any action against the refuge.

As for the others.  A disillusioned Annie had gone back to Phoenix for
good, saying she was going to try to pick up with the boyfriend she'd
thrown over for Chase.

Upon investigation, it seemed Thea was running a secret society--her
promises luring thrill seekers to the area--but wasn't actually staging
illegal game hunts as they'd feared.  The paramilitary stuff Kate had
found had been part of an elaborate war-game scenario--most of the
ammunition the sheriff had found consisted of nothing more damaging
than paint balls.  The cage had been part of the game.

Nathan had been the biggest surprise.  Somewhere along the way to
adulthood, he'd learned a new respect for his heritage.  For years he'd
spent any extra money he could earn on collecting articles of war, his
goal to create modern artifacts using the originals for inspiration.
And while he still thought the refuge land should belong to the Lakota,
he'd done nothing to advance that muse.

"You'll have fodder for your novels for years and years," Keelin said
to Skelly.

"How so, cuz?"

"You'll be remembering that each of us has two siblings, all of whom
are part of the legacy."

"I can't speak for Donovan," Skelly said.

His half brother was the only one who'd refused to attend a reunion he
felt had nothing to do with him.  And unfortunately no one had been
able to locate Quin.  Kate couldn't help but worry that her' younger
brother was in some new fix.

"Don't you think we should be getting back to the others?"  Kate
suggested.

"You just want to keep an eye on that new husband of yours," Skelly
teased.  "Afraid he'll do a disappearing act on you?"

"Not anymore."

They strolled through the lush herb garden to the old limestone house.
Indeed, this Ireland of Keelin's was a sight to behold.  But already
Kate was missing the Black Hills and especially the Bitter Creek
Mustang Refuge and the cabin where she and Chase had spent the past few
months together.

Keelin led the way into the house, dipping her fingers into the font of
holy water and crossing herself.  Their arrival caused a stir.

"Ah, here are our lost children," Great-aunt Marcella said,
straightening the collar of her nun's habit.

"I was lost but now I'm found," Kate murmured as Chase pulled her to
his side and kissed her cheek.  Neil stood on her other side, next to
their mother, while their father hung back, still a bit aloof.

Keelin joined Tyler and his daughter, Cheryl, who'd been getting better
acquainted with Keelin's siblings, Curran and Flanna, as well as with
Uncle James and Aunt Delia.  And Skelly made faces at his stunning
wife, Rosalind, who stood between his sister Aileen and Uncle
Raymond.

"I cannot believe we are all reunited at last," Kate's mother said,
lifting her glass.

Kate could hardly believe it, either.  The warmth of happiness stole
through her as she pressed closer to Chase.

"To the McKennas," Uncle James toasted.

"And the Farrells," Kate's father put in, finally stepping forward.

The two men eyed each other for a moment.  Then Uncle James nodded.
"Aye, and the Fartells."

"You'd best not be forgetting the Leightons, Da," Keelin said.  "Now
that I'm one of them."

"To the Farrells and the Leightons and any other who has the good taste
to become a McKenna."

"Which, according to Gran's wishes for us all, will not be long in
coming," Keelin reminded them, looking from her siblings to her
unmarried cousins.  Everyone laughed.

And as they'd rehearsed it earlier, the three newly-wed couples lifted
their glasses in unison.  "To the McKenna Legacy."