Kell, page 2
of legal and business knowledge.
Five years from now, Beth hoped to be hired as a junior attorney, someday earning a partnership. She already knew her specialties. Estate and family law, both areas had held her interest since high school. If anyone asked why, Beth didn’t know if she could give a convincing answer.
Most of her interest came from having friends whose parents divorced. There were horror stories of men, and some women, losing everything in spousal and child support when the split wasn’t their idea. Everything they’d worked for went to their former spouse, leaving them to make do with whatever they could afford. It had happened to her best friend.
When her father discovered her mother’s affair, she filed for divorce. The judge awarded her the bulk of their savings, the house, and ordered spousal support be paid to her, even though she made more than her husband.
Beth’s friend refused to see or talk to her mother again, choosing to live with her father in a tiny two-bedroom apartment. There were other stories with disastrous legal rulings which ruined people’s lives. Although she had no idea how, Beth hoped to bring some sanity to family law.
Janet Chapman warned her to be open-minded during law school, and not be too focused on one specialty. Beth promised she would.
Picking up a file, she read through Janet’s instructions before scanning the documents. Six hours later, she closed the last file, adding it to the stack of completed work. She’d deliver them to the appropriate attorney before leaving.
Beth thought of her early morning run at the high school, and the man who came every morning. She’d recognized him her first time on the track.
Kell Brooks. She’d thought of him many times since meeting at the Macklin ranch while visiting her cousin, Sarah Mae. She’d been out of character that evening, wearing clothes more suitable for clubbing than a country evening on the porch.
Kell had been distant, wrestling with something he didn’t share. She’d felt for him, wished there’d been something she could do. There wasn’t.
Other feelings had taken hold that evening. Emotions Beth hadn’t felt before or since. A primal desire for the struggling soldier.
Spotting him on the high school track had been unexpected. Kell was the reason she’d adjusted her schedule for several weeks, showing up right after he’d driven away. This morning, Beth had decided she owed herself some eye candy, and Kell Brooks fit the description.
Someday, she might even build up the nerve to reintroduce herself. For now, it was enough to run on the same track each morning and fantasize about the man who checked all her boxes.
Chapter Two
“Mommy, Mommy, come see.” Six-year-old Ashley O’Dell tugged on her mother’s hand, trying to drag her to one of two large stalls used for birthing. “I think the baby is coming now.”
Maggie smiled at Kell. “Are you coming?”
“Sure am. Don’t want to miss the baby entering the world.”
Maggie chuckled at his reference to a baby instead of a foal. She bet he heard everything from Macklin ranch clients, especially the young ones.
Following behind, he checked his phone’s battery. Kell made it a point to take pictures whenever clients visited for special events, such as a mare giving birth. Although ninety percent sure Patsy wouldn’t present them with a foal this afternoon, he didn’t want to spoil Ashley’s excitement.
Boone and Thorn were at an auction in Billings. Del was attending a trial in Missoula regarding a drug bust his department assisted with. Kell had a good deal of experience with birthing from his time here and at his family’s ranch a couple miles up the road. Or what had been the family ranch before his father cut Kell out of it. The action still felt bitter in his mouth. Knowing his son wanted to buy it, his father sold the entire two thousand acres while Kell fought overseas. The two men hadn’t spoken since Kell learned about his father’s betrayal.
As Boone’s wife, Willow, said more than once, the sale and the loss of his men in South America were part of his past. His future was still to be written.
“Come on, Kell. You’re going to miss it.”
Smiling at Ashley’s enthusiasm, he jogged after them, a rare smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Entering the barn, he spotted Patsy standing in the birthing stall, eating from the feeder attached to the metal rails at the front.
From her stance, and the fact she wasn’t pacing or circling to ready a place to lay down, he knew the mare had a day or more to go. It wouldn’t surprise him if Maggie and Ashley were back at the ranch tomorrow. Patsy was that close.
“Does her big belly hurt?” Ashley bounced on the balls of her feet, both hands wrapped around the metal rails.
“Can’t say for sure, but I doubt it’s comfortable. One thing about Patsy, the old girl never complains.”
Ashley looked at him, brows scrunching. “Does she talk?”
Maggie placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Of course she doesn’t. Kell was making a joke.”
Looking at the ground, then him, she giggled. “Funny.”
Resting his arms on the top rail, Kell studied the mare. Patsy had birthed eight foals in her lifetime. Boone thought she might have two to three more before retiring to become a beginner’s riding horse.
“When can I ride, Mommy? You said I could after my sixth birthday. I am six, you know.”
“Yes, sweetheart. I know. Let’s get through this with Patsy, then we’ll figure something out.”
“Promise?”
Seeing the hesitation on Maggie’s face, Kell stepped closer to Ashley. “You want to see something pretty exciting?”
Grinning, she jumped up and down. “Yes!”
Walking toward the open doorway, he motioned for her to follow. “This way.”
Skipping behind him, Ashley glanced over her shoulder to see Maggie a few feet away. Hurrying to catch up to Kell, she came to a stop around the corner of the house and gasped.
“Puppies!” Rushing forward, she knelt down, eyes wide. “One, two, three, four, five, six puppies. Can I hold one?”
“Ashley?”
She looked at her mother, then back at Kell. “Please can I hold one?”
“If you’re careful. Let me help you.” Looking at the puppies, he selected a sturdy male with brown fur. Scooping him up, Kell laid the whining pup in Ashley’s cupped hands.
“He’s so soft.” Giggling, her fingers stroked the fur. She giggled again when the pup squirmed, licking her hands.
Kell’s gaze moved from Ashley to Maggie, watching her reaction. He knew they didn’t have any pets. Not since their dog was killed, along with her husband when he lost control on a slick, icy road, rolled down an embankment, crashing into a tree. It had been three years. Maggie still struggled with the loss of the man she’d loved since high school.
“Can I have one, Mommy?”
“I’d have to think about it, honey.”
“I’ll take care of him. He can stay in my room. Please…”
Kell could see the struggle on Maggie’s face. “I’ll think about it. Now give the puppy back to Kell. We have twenty minutes to get you to your gymnastics class.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“Ashley, hand the puppy back.”
“But…”
Kell held out his hand. “Hand him to me so he can join his brothers and sisters.”
After a long sigh, Ashley did as he asked, watching as he set the puppy in the large cage.
“Can I see him again?”
Kell shot a look at Maggie. “It’s up to your mom.”
Resigned, she nodded. “You can see them the next time we visit the ranch.”
Jumping up, Ashley’s features changed from disappointment to joy in a heartbeat. “Okay.”
Kell and Maggie lagged behind as Ashley ran toward their car. “My schedule doesn’t allow room for a pet,” she defended. “I already work fifty hours a week.”
“You don’t have to explain. Being a single parent is a lot of work. I watched Boone with Tyler before he married Willow. Don’t know how he did it.”
“He adopted Tyler, didn’t he?”
Kell stopped several feet from her car. “Ty’s mother died of cancer. There was no one to take her son. No family, and few close friends. Boone stepped up. It’s been over three years, and no one would guess he’s not the birth father.”
“Hurry up, Mommy. I’ll be late.”
Maggie offered a wan smile. “Better get a move on. Thanks for letting us visit, Kell.”
“Anytime. Give me a call and I’ll make it happen.”
Shoving hands into his pockets, he watched them navigate the drive back to the county road. As much as he wanted to spend time with Maggie, get to know her, she wasn’t ready. Some people moved on from tragedy sooner than others. A few never accepted the loss. He didn’t know how long it would take her, but Maggie still grieved. The same as he still grieved the loss of Kyle Foster and the others in his squad.
Refusing to allow himself to dwell on the past, Kell headed to the pasture behind the barn. Stopping at the sound of a vehicle, he turned to see Cody approach in the dark blue Chevy truck his parents gave him for his sixteenth birthday. Twenty years old and requiring a good deal of TLC, Cody couldn’t be more proud of his ride. Three days a week and Saturdays, the high schooler worked on the ranch. A good worker with a great attitude, Kell welcomed his help.
“Hey, Cody. The truck looks good.”
The tall, lanky, high school junior stepped out, beaming at Kell’s praise. “I clayed and waxed her yesterday. Dad helped me install a new stereo system over the weekend. She’s sounding great.”
“I’ll bet she does.”
Pocketing the keys, Cody glanced behind Kell to the barn. “Where do you want me to start?”
“I need to check the fences close to the house. I’d like you to stick close, keep watch on the mares. The one in the birthing stall is close. Might be tonight.”
Cody’s eyes brightened. “Hope I’m here.”
“Hay needs to be moved from the stackyard to the barn. A dozen bales should be enough for now. There’s also a few broken rails in the pasture behind the barn.”
“I’ll take care of them, Kell. An outside faucet is leaking. Shouldn’t take much to fix it.”
“I should be back by the time you’re done.” Heading to the pasture, Kell whistled for his gelding, Joker.
The horse he’d owned since fifteen died while he’d been deployed, a year before the disaster in South America. About the same time his father had sold the family ranch. Kell remembered the double punch to his gut in the same letter from his mother. His dad hadn’t had the guts to explain his actions.
Joker had been a gift from the Macklins when he showed up after his medical discharge. The chestnut quarter horse measured sixteen hands, showing a white blaze and socks. At six, Joker had been well trained for work on the ranch. Kell knew the brothers could’ve gotten three thousand for Joker. Refusing to accept the horse outright, the men had settled on Kell paying fifteen hundred, the rest being a gift.
Tacking up the gelding, he rode east about a mile toward the Bitterroot Mountains. Following the fence line, he stopped several times to check the wire, tightening or repairing a few spots.
Kell relished the solitude, even turning off his phone. Drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled, feeling his body relax.
Slowing his pace, he thought of the woman at the track that morning. Her long, lean body, arms pumping in sync with her legs. Sunglasses hid her features. Still, he had the strangest sense they’d met.
The feed store? He shook his head. Wicked Waters Saloon? He dismissed the thought. The bank? He almost never went inside. Nothing triggered an answer.
She appeared young, years behind him, indicating they hadn’t attended Whiskey Bend High School at the same time. Maybe she’d been in the doctor’s or dentist’s office the same time as him. Had he met her in the grocery store? He rarely struck up conversations with fellow shoppers. In and out, not lingering or deviating from the short list on his phone.
Long, blonde hair, and skin tanned from the sun, not from a booth in one of the tanning salons in Missoula. Kell guessed her to be five feet seven or eight, but she could be taller. Unlike most women who garnered his attention, she wasn’t curvaceous, which puzzled him. He didn’t usually go for the lean, athletic type.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, Kell chided himself. It had been so long since being with a woman, he didn’t know if he still had a type. All he knew was the lady intrigued him.
Dismounting, he studied a break in the four-strand barbed wire. Not a break, but a clean cut.
“What the hell?”
Pulling out his phone, he took a few pictures. Several clipped wires made sense if someone wanted to steal Macklin cattle, or their prized horses.
Grabbing a piece of two and a half mil fencing wire and fencing pliers from his saddlebags, he made a quick repair, intending to return tomorrow on the ATV for a more permanent fix. The job took little time. Straightening, he stood back, still puzzled by the clean cut. Using his phone, Kell took note of the exact coordinates for when he returned.
Something in the bushes fifty yards away caught his attention. A glint of sunshine on metal. His gut tightened. For a moment, he dismissed the sight as nothing more than an aluminum can. Then the flash came again.
He dropped to his belly as a bullet whizzed over his head. Lying flat, he reached behind him to the holster he often wore while riding. Sliding out his Ruger Blackhawk .44 mag, Kell raised his head to look around.
The sound of an engine starting, tires spinning on the dirt, and a dust cloud in the distance, indicated whoever fired the shot was gone. He kept his position for five minutes before standing.
Holding the gun at his side, he made a slow turn, not expecting to see anyone. Holstering the Blackhawk, he mounted Joker, riding to the spot where he saw the flash of metal. Pushing through the brush, he came to a clearing accessed by a dirt road.
With one shot, he figured there’d be no spent shell, but he walked the area to make sure. For ten minutes, he searched, finding nothing to help him figure out who fired into the pasture.
Chapter Three
“It had to be teenagers.” Kell spooned a second scoop of mashed potatoes onto his plate, not satisfied with what he’d said.
“Whoever fired the shot had to have seen you and Joker.” Boone’s expression indicated the extent of his anger at his friend being targeted. “It wasn’t an accident.”
Boone’s wife, Willow, placed a slice of meatloaf on Tyler’s plate, her mind on what happened in the pasture. “I have to agree with Boone. There’s one way in and out of the dirt road. It’s not hunting season, and there are signs posted. It worries me.”
“Same here. I’m going to ask Del to come out and get his opinion.” Chewing a scoop of potatoes with the meatloaf, Boone smile. “This is great, Willow.”
Kell leaned back in his chair. “There’s no sense dragging Del into this. He’s got enough to do with the recent hit on two convenience stores.”
“Thorn’s shop also was broken into. Probably unrelated,” Boone said. “Del’s got deputies to work those incidents. He’ll be out tomorrow to help with some work around the ranch. Might as well have him check the area.”
“Del needs to know about it, Kell.” Willow’s voice was gentle, yet firm.
Arguing would be useless. When Willow agreed with her husband, the decision wouldn’t change.
Setting down his fork, Boone stared at the remaining meatloaf, wrestling with having a third helping. “Anyone have a problem with you?”
Kell snorted a chuckle. “The list is long and distinguished.”
“Can I go check on the puppies, Mom? I finished my dinner.”
Tyler’s use of mom still had her chest squeezing. Losing his mother at six had been hard on him. Without the adoption, Tyler would’ve entered the foster system. Within days of Willow and Boone marrying, he’d started calling her mom.
“All right, but just the pups.”
Shoving back his chair, Tyler took a step away before Boone’s words stopped him. “Don’t go anywhere else without getting one of us.” He nodded at Willow and Kell.
“Okay.” With that, he tore through the kitchen and out the door.
“After what happened in the pasture, I’m not taking any chances.” Picking up his cup, Boone sipped the cooling coffee. “Although you’re probably right. Might’ve just been a teenager not paying attention.”
Kell hoped so, yet his instincts warned him otherwise. He’d be making calls and doing research after dinner.
Willow didn’t notice Kell’s growing unease, her thoughts were focused on the impending addition to the Macklin family. Looking down at her growing stomach, she shot a look at her husband, who offered a knowing expression. After the shared tragedy of their past, the couple grew more cautious as the delivery date approached.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Reaching out, Boone took her hand in his.
“Great. The walks are helping.”
“Then we’ll take one tonight. Ty can go with us.” Standing, Boone began picking up plates. Kell did the same, joining him in the kitchen. Confirming Willow hadn’t left the table, he lowered his voice.
“Maybe I should move out for a while.”
Setting down the plates, Boone rested both hands on the kitchen counter. “Not a chance. We know nothing about the circumstances. Plus, it happened during the day. You moving out wouldn’t change anything.”
Boone’s words rolled around in Kell’s head as he finished his last call. The conversation bothered and angered him. Wondering why no one had bothered to notify him of one of his former teammate’s death a few weeks earlier, he initiated an internet search. Less than a minute later, he scanned the initial article, moving to the obituary. He read aloud.
“Robert Brian Moser, twenty-seven, was pronounced dead at the scene after a severe crash on CR 183. Deputies speculated Mr. Moser lost control of his vehicle, rolled down an embankment, smashing into a concrete cistern. The presence of drugs or alcohol has not been determined.”
