Page 42 of River Legacy (Powder River #5)

W hen Holden McKenna had dreamed of bringing the family together, he’d never envisioned it being for a funeral.

He looked around the family gathered here in the ranch cemetery, feeling the loss even as he saw how much his family had grown.

Lottie stood next to him, holding his hand.

Next to her was the girl he’d adopted. Holly Jo was growing into a young woman before his eyes.

She’d never really known Treyton. Holden wondered if even he had ever known his son.

Treyton’s funeral had brought home his son Duffy, who’d been working down in Wyoming.

He couldn’t believe how much his youngest son had grown into a man of his own.

Cooper held his newborn daughter River, his wife Tilly beside him.

Holden’s daughter Bailey stood with her husband Sheriff Stuart Layton, both somber as the weather.

Pickett was there with his wife, Oakley, along with ranch manager Deacon Yates and Holden’s friend and longtime housekeeper Elaine.

Lottie stood with him, their son Brand and his wife, Birdie, next to Ryder.

This was his family, he thought as he took in the group, awed by the feelings they evoked in him. He was blessed more than he deserved by the strength they gave him.

Tomorrow they would lay Lottie’s son to rest with all of them here again.

Then in a week he and Lottie would get married, bringing both families together.

He thought of that as the preacher droned on about a young man struck down in his prime who Holden had never met. But then, the truth got buried at funerals. He supposed it was best.

C harlotte shaded her eyes from the last of the sun’s rays, the preacher’s voice a buzz in the background as she thought back to her infant son in her arms. She’d had so much hope that day for the man he would become.

Her firstborn, CJ, had been destined to one day run the ranch.

He’d been her hope for the future. She’d put so much of her love into that child—at the detriment of her other children.

And now she was burying him.

She’d been expecting the call from the sheriff when he’d gotten back to her, but in truth she’d been waiting for that call for years.

She’d done her crying a long time ago. Now she stood here about to bury her son, dry-eyed.

Not because her heart wasn’t breaking. Or that she didn’t want to curl up in ball with the pain of what she’d done.

But for so many years she’d done what she’d had to in order to survive.

All she knew was living with the pain. Nothing had changed.

She couldn’t help but remember when she’d finally seen the monster she’d produced.

It had been the night she found out he’d hired two men to kill his sister Oakley.

That night after she’d called the sheriff and had her son arrested for attempted murder, she’d sobbed until there was nothing left.

She’d washed her hands of CJ, blaming herself for him being the way he was.

He would have gone to prison possibly for the rest of his life had she not intervened and gotten him out. She’d wanted to give him another chance, but what she’d really done was gotten him out to die, she thought now as she realized the preacher had finished talking.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stepped forward to take up a handful of Powder River basin dirt to drop on the casket. She watched as his casket was lowered into the ground. She no longer had to worry about CJ or what he would do next or who he would hurt ever again.

Her daughters and sons stood silently nearby, their heads down.

Tilly was the only one who’d cried when she dropped her handful of dirt on her brother’s casket.

“It’s the pregnancy hormones still in her system,” Oakley had whispered.

Charlotte thought she was probably right.

CJ had been terrible to his siblings growing up, almost taking both Oakley’s and Tilly’s lives.

It was no secret that they all assumed CJ had also been behind Brand being shot and Oakley’s house almost burning down.

Holden put his arm around her as the funeral ended.

Yesterday she’d stood by his side as he’d buried his oldest son.

He’d come to her the moment he heard about their sons’ deaths.

He’d held her as she told him how sorry she was.

He’d never know just how sorry. Then they called their other offspring to let them know, before planning their family-only funerals.

Together she and Holden now walked away, both she suspected feeling guilty at the relief they felt. It was a horrible feeling.

“S urely you are going to postpone the wedding,” Tilly said after the private funerals. They’d all gathered back at the McKenna Ranch. “What will people think?”

Charlotte smiled. “Everyone who matters knew CJ and Treyton. They will think what they will. It was a horrible tragedy what happened to our sons, but Holden and I are getting married. We aren’t putting it off any longer.”

She’d told Wendell Forester that she wanted to bury CJ on the Stafford Ranch. “I’m sure you have your reasons,” he’d said.

“My son blackmailed me to get it and then he sold it to escape his past,” she said. “It’s only fitting he spend eternity there.”

“We can postpone the wedding,” Holden said.

“No, we can’t,” Charlotte said. “We aren’t waiting any longer.”

He looked relieved. “You’re sure? People are probably going to talk.”

That made her laugh. It felt good since it had been a while. “You sound like Tilly. Everyone in three counties have talked about us our whole lives. Is there anyone who doesn’t know about the Staffords and the McKennas?”

He smiled. “You’re probably right. Have you read my daughter’s book?”

“Cover to cover,” Charlotte said. “I loved it! How about you?”

“I read it,” he admitted. “Bailey was nice enough to give me an advanced copy. But I can’t say I loved it. I’m worried about how everyone in it will react, since it is set to release next week—right before our wedding.”

“Perfect timing,” she said. “Isn’t that what a wedding is for, hanging out all your dirty laundry for everyone to see?”

“Actually, I don’t believe so.”

She laughed again at the thought of what people would say about her laughing so soon after burying her oldest son.

Not that she cared. It was freeing, just as dropping that handful of dirt on his casket had been.

She desperately missed the CJ she’d loved with all her heart and her hopes and dreams for him.

There would always be a terrible ache inside her, but now she had to move on.

Marrying Holden was a start. She wanted her children to see that people could change—even their mother.

“I know Bailey changed the names in the book, but you did recognize the two of us, didn’t you?” he asked.

Charlotte nodded. “I’m glad she didn’t pull any punches. She didn’t cut anyone else any slack either. I admire that about her, and I told her so in the note I sent her after I finished the book.”

He studied her openly for a moment, then pulled her to him. “I love you so much.”

“Warts and all?”

Holden chuckled. “Warts and all—just like our families.”

W endell Forester didn’t like the way the federal agent was looking at him. For the past seventy-two hours he’d been answering questions, first by security at the airport, then local law enforcement. Now the feds were involved.

Agent Al Brooks was with what was called the Fly Team, investigating the explosion that destroyed his plane, he explained. Surely, the feds didn’t think he would blow up his own plane? It had to have been an accident.

“Are you familiar with a man named Brice Schultz?” the agent asked.

“Of course I am. He was one of my security guards.”

“But wasn’t he also a pilot and mechanic who had done work on your plane?” Wendell nodded, wondering where this was going. “Was he in your employ at the time of the explosion on your plane?” the agent asked.

“No, I’d fired him a few days before, along with my other guard. ”

The agent considered his notes. “John Jacob Gibson?”

“Was it JJ piloting my plane when it blew up?”

The agent didn’t respond. “Did you give him permission to be piloting your plane?”

“No. I assumed my assistant Claude Duvall put him up to it.”

“You allowed Claude Duvall to leave in your plane, is that correct?”

“After he held a gun on both me and my daughter, yes, I let him go. He was upset. I didn’t want to see him get arrested. I figured I’d deal with him when I returned to Dallas.”

“You planned to have your plane sent back?”

“Yes,” Wendell said, trying to keep his temper. “If you’re asking if I knew it was going to blow up, how could I? Wasn’t it a malfunction?”

Again, Agent Brooks checked his notes before looking up. “There was a bomb aboard the plane. We believe it was activated from Billings once the plane was in the air and away from the airport.”

Wendell’s jaw dropped at what the agent was telling him. “Someone purposely blew up my plane?”

“I can see that this comes as a shock, but you were obviously concerned, otherwise why did you hire two bodyguards before your trip to Montana?”

“You’re saying this was an attempt on my life?”

“We believe so. I understand you’ve been getting threatening letters.” The agent continued. “You were worried enough to contact local law enforcement, who in turn contacted us.”

Wendell felt as if the earth under him was no longer solid. He gripped the edges of his chair as if hanging on. Someone had tried to kill him and would have if he’d been on that plane. He felt a shudder at the thought that Victoria could have been on it as well.

“Do you know a man by the name Arnold Schultz?”

He frowned, confused, and shook his head.

“He is the father of the man you employed as a bodyguard,” the agent said. “I understand he also had access to your plane as he is a pilot and often worked on it.”

Wendell felt sick to his stomach as he saw the direction this was headed. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“According to Brice, who we picked up in Florida and extradited to Dallas, you sent his father into bankruptcy after he sold you part of his business. You stripped the assets and, according to his son, told him to sue you. He tried, spending the last of his money, but you dragged it out in court until you knew he couldn’t keep going without the kind of money you had.

Arnold Schultz died by suicide six months ago.

” The agent held up his hand as if he thought Wen was about to object.

Under other circumstances, he would have.

But right now, he was too shocked at what he was hearing.

“I’m only telling you why Brice Schultz said he wanted to kill you. ”

“I didn’t know,” he said, a weak response at best. He could have argued that it had only been business. That he was only doing what wealthy men across the country did on a daily basis. The country had a history of tycoons who’d operated the same way. But he held his tongue.

“You might take this as a warning, Mr. Forester,” the agent said. “You have a history of these types of business deals. Arnold Schultz wasn’t the only one to take you to court but couldn’t afford to keep fighting.”

Wendell heard him loud and clear. Watch your back. There are no doubt others out there who want you dead.

Some as close as Powder Crossing.