Whisper In The Dark (The McKinnon Legends-- The American Men Book One) (3 page)

Her father had been proud of her accomplishments. He just couldn’t come to see her walk across the stage. Kyle had made a point to come along with a video camera. She had been on the phone the night Kyle showed her father and George the video of her graduation. She heard him laugh which was a rare event. Then he shouted in the background so she could hear in the receiver, “Way to go, Katie! Put those snobbish bastards in their place! See George? She got her mother’s looks, Thaddeus’ balls, and Nathaniel’s brains. That’s my girl!”

His reference was a compliment. Everyone knew her mother was lovely, Nathaniel Brandenburg was nobody’s fool, and Thaddeus’ balls had been big and brass. It still made her smile to think about it.

Her father had died only a month later. She never got to see him again.

From the day her mother picked her up at the ranch until she graduated from Princeton, again top of her class, she saw her mother a whopping twelve days, even less since then. Not that she was missing much, but Krystal was still her mother. It would have been nice to get a call now and again. All Katherine ever reached was the household staff at the upstate New York mansion. It was always the same,
“No, sorry, your mother is away on holiday,”
or that they were in residence at their winter home in the Bahamas.

Fifteen years, numerous lawsuits, and one disastrous marriage later, she still had a New York address. It was not that she necessarily enjoyed living there, but New York was where the most lucrative jobs were found. If you were in high finance, you lived in New York. End of discussion.

However, back on the ranch was not necessarily where she longed to be either, yet here she was, like it or not. Kyle had never married so who else was going to take care of all the details?

Even if Robert had called her and was a good friend of Kyle’s, he probably had his own affairs to look after. By now, in his late thirties, doubtless he had a family of his own. It was too much to ask of him to take care of the Brandenburg affairs, even if he and Kyle had been as close as any blood.

Rosa was their housekeeper and, God love her, she had stayed to help Kyle as long as she could. However, even she had left the previous fall after the crops were harvested to join her daughter in San Angelo.

That just left Old George who was now “Really Old George”. He was well into his late eighties.

The times she would call and check in with Kyle, George would usually ask to speak to her. She would spend the next thirty minutes listening to him describe how inept his doctors were and how his gout was getting worse. He would then put Kyle back on the phone grumbling about the work not doing itself.

Turning off the ignition she waited as the dust settled, drifting away on the light April breeze. She absorbed the quiet. All she heard was her own breathing, shallow and ragged.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake just get a grip, you ninny. You live in New York for Christ’s sake. You’ve been mugged twice, once at gunpoint. You will not fall apart. You will not!” she said gaining courage to open the car door.

Stepping out of the little silver coupe, she shut the car door, breathing in the clean Texas air. Looking out over the pasture, she knew she would need all the courage she could muster. Memories of Kyle were everywhere she looked.

“They say you can never come home again. Personally, I think you never really left.”

She heard the gravelly old voice behind her.

“George!” Katherine turned to see the man who had helped raise her, stooped and leaning heavily on a cane. She ran to hug his neck, hoping her shock did not register on her face. He had aged so much and his eyes were rimmed red. Not that hers were in any better condition. All her make-up was gone from the tears she shed on the flight from JFK to Dallas.

“It is good to see you,” she said hugging him.

“Come inside, Girl. I expected you an hour ago. Supper’s getting cold,” he said just as if he had seen her that morning for breakfast, when in reality the span of a decade actually was more realistic.

“I’m sorry, George. I should have called. My luggage was delayed and did not arrive until the next flight. I stayed rather than have it delivered,” Katherine said pulling her rolling bag out of the trunk along with her computer case.

“That is why I say, ‘if I can’t carry it on my back it don’t get packed.’ Good advice, Katie Bug. Might think about that next time,” he said already back inside the house.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiled.

Maybe she could come home again. After all, what had she really left behind in New York?

After a light supper Katherine washed, dried, and put the dishes away. George excused himself for the evening, retiring to his quarters in the old bunkhouse leaving her alone inside the mansion.

The house was empty, yet alive from the life force and energy traces left behind by a hundred and fifty years of Brandenburg descendents. She had forgotten the feeling. Wrapping it around her was a comfort, one she really missed feeling.

Walking into the living room, she listened to the heavy silence as the antique clock ticked beating out a steady rhythm just as it always did, day after day, year after year. From her apartment in New York, there were constant sounds from the city drifting through the windows. The city really doesn’t sleep and often times she did not either. In the early days of her living in the Big Apple, there were times when the noise chafed her as she longed for the quiet of the ranch and a cool, cloudless, winter night where she could see the stars going on forever.

She ran her hand over the smooth wooden mantle coming to rest on the old faded photo of Kyle and his friend Robert McKinnon. They were both leaning against her father’s 1962 Chevy truck, arms crossed with chests bare and tanned from the summer. Robert and Kyle had been inseparable until Robert went off to college. She thought she remembered Kyle saying Robert had won a baseball scholarship to Texas A & M. Gaining his masters from Vanderbilt earned him a prestigious slot in the Secret Service on presidential detail. Kyle had stayed behind going to community college when crops would allow. Even before Robert called her, she knew he and Kyle had managed to stay close through the years.

Since moving to New York she had come home only once, and if Robert had been at her father’s funeral she did not recall seeing him. She had been eighteen at the time.

Had it already been ten years? The question rolled around in her mind.

Robert owned the ranch butting up to Brandenburg land. His great-grandfather, Silas McKinnon, had purchased a two thousand acre track of land from Thaddeus’ widow, using it for raising horses for the cavalry in World War I. Once Robert, his younger brothers Chase and Mason, and Kyle were old enough to cross the pasture, Kyle and Robert had become fast friends and she never remembered a time that Robert, Mason, and Chase were not around. Rosa’s homemade bread and chocolate chip cookies were as much to blame for his being a constant fixture as his love for Kyle.

At Brandenburg expense, Robert had expanded that original tract of land he inherited from his grandfather’s purchase. Kyle, in an act of desperation, sold two thousand more acres to him several years ago to make the mortgage on the farm equipment after a failed crop. If anyone else had purchased that parcel of land, she would have resented it. However, she remembered tagging along as a kid, more of an annoyance than either boy would have liked, but neither ever really pushed her away. Perhaps, if someone had to get a piece of Brandenburg history, Robert was the best choice. He had given Kyle fair market value, unlike Dallas Langston, who was constantly on Kyle to sell the ranch for other darker motives. If she were really honest with herself, she was grateful Kyle had the sense to go to Robert and not let Dallas get his hooks into the Golden Circle.

Setting the photo frame back on the credenza, she noticed a candid shot of much happier times. She remembered the day the shot was taken as if it were yesterday. She took home first place in the Junior National Rodeo, winning the barrel racing competition on a painted filly named Sapphire. It had been one of the McKinnon horses from Robert’s own personal stock. He had given her Sapphire as a gift on her eleventh birthday. Robert, Kyle, George, and her father had all been there to see her win. It was the only time she ever remembered her father actually saying the words he was proud of her.

She looked at the young girl smiling back at her proudly holding the trophy that was almost as tall as she was at the time.

As she remembered, it was Robert who had been behind the camera. It was the only shot she knew of in existence of her father, Kyle, George and herself together.

That had only been days before her mother’s arrival.

If she had only known what was coming. Had she known, she would have jumped on her horse and just kept riding out onto the ranch lands. She felt sure if she were not handy for her mother to snatch up, Krystal would have lost interest quickly, finding another flavor of the week to acquire. She just happened to be the one her mother wanted at that moment in time.

Sighing, Katherine placed the photo back in its place.

The light breeze drifting through the screen door brought with it the soothing sounds of the spring night. Pushing open the door, she walked out onto the front porch gently closing the rusty screen behind her.

The old porch swing was still there just as she remembered it, gently swaying in the evening breeze as if a ghost of some past Brandenburg was pushing it back and forth. Sitting down and placing her feet on the top railing of the porch she rocked gently, listening to the chains creak and the old wooden slats of the seat pop in rhythm.

Leaning her head back she closed her eyes having not slept since getting the call of Kyle’s death. She was coming to grips with the tragedy now that the shock had passed and she realized how exhausted she actually was, feeling her body ache to her marrow.

She had worked the night shift the previous night at the twenty-four hour coffee house and was just crawling into bed when Robert called her with the news. How he knew she did not have travel money had never crossed her mind until just then. The ticket he arranged to be waiting for her at the airport had been a Godsend. Having to make the arrangements for Kyle’s funeral long distance and a crazy connection flight to Dallas by way of Atlanta, had not given her a chance to slow down. She was running on over thirty hours without sleep.

“Katie?”

The deep male voice washed over her barely penetrating the heavy fog of sleep.

“Katie Bug?”

“Kyle?” she asked through the haze not having the energy to open her eyes at being called by her childhood nickname.

It was the gentle squeeze of her shoulder that woke her fully.

“Robert?” He was squatting down at eye level, and she automatically threw her arms around his neck. “It is good to see you.”

She hugged him, genuinely happy to see him after all the years. She would have recognized him anywhere. His gray-blue eyes and rich brown hair had always been a combination her young heart had fainted over. Now was not much different as she felt her heart leap. The marked difference, she noted, was the smart, fashionable, rimless glasses and the peppering of gray at his temples.

Time marches on, she supposed, for everyone.

However, at thirty-nine he was still drop dead gorgeous with features that were not quite as strong as most of the McKinnon men. Yet no one would ever mistake him for anything other than a man’s man. Robert was the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome cliché encased in a pair of freshly pressed jeans. He most definitely was a man in his prime with sex and virility plastered all over him.

And probably married with 2.5 kids, a dog, and the mandatory minivan
, she thought.

“What are you doing here?” She looked at her watch, not really surprised to see her brother’s longtime friend. She was just surprised to see him at this hour. Rubbing her eyes she sat up, swinging her legs back over the edge of the swing, having no recollection of ever lying down.

“I was taking the shortcut across the pasture when I saw the lights still on and the front door open. I was concerned given what happened with Kyle,” he offered taking in the changes little Katie had gone through since last seeing her.

“I must have dropped off. I’ve not had a great deal of rest for obvious reasons. I’m sorry, forgive my manners. Please, have a seat,” she said pointing to the white, antique wicker chair diagonal to her. “May I offer you something to drink? I’m not sure what is in the fridge.” She stood to go into the house.

“No, thank you. I’m fine. Please, sit back down.” Robert had not intended to stay, but took the seat offered anyway. “I’m sorry about Kyle. He was a good man, Katie.”

Silently she nodded her head accepting his condolences giving her a moment to collect her thoughts.

“I go by Katherine these days, and yes, he was a good man. He was more than just a stepbrother to me, Robert.”

Robert smiled sympathetically. “I know. He was heartbroken when your mother took you. He loved you very much and felt responsible for you. Did you know she called the law on him several times when he tried to see you in New York?”

She rolled her eyes shaking her head. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit about Mom. Other than her, why would anyone want to kill him? That is what I cannot accept. You know how he is, or was, everyone loved him,” she said standing up unable to sit any longer.

Going to the edge of the porch, she leaned against the rough wood railing which she noted was in dire need of a paint job then stared out into the darkness as if the answer would be found somewhere in the distance.

Robert left her to her thoughts.

“Thanks for calling me, Robert,” she inhaled deeply letting it out slowly. “I know I’ve been a little hard to reach these days,” she said lowering her head in shame picking at the pealing paint of the railing.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Kate. Life sometimes kicks us when we seem to need it the least.” He offered, comforting her feelings.