Keegan's Lady (6 page)

Too stunned to move, she stared at the shadow dance upon the plank walls, slowly assimilating what he'd said, that this ordeal, which might have been finished quickly had he stayed, would now be postponed until it suited him. Meanwhile, she would have to live in dread of seeing him again, never knowing from one moment to the next when he might reappear.

Caitlin couldn't think of anything worse.

Galvanized into motion, she dropped the hem of her gown. "Wait!" She sprang from the stall. "Wait, Mr. Keegan! Please, wait!"

Her cries were still ringing in the air when she heard horses' hooves beating a rapid tattoo of retreat, loudly as they left the barn, gaining momentum as they crossed the yard, then diminishing into the darkness of the night.

CHAPTER TWO

Only a crazy man would have ridden at such a breakneck pace over rolling grassland, especially after dark. All it took was one chuckhole to break a horse's leg. In the back of his mind, Ace Keegan knew that. But for the moment, be didn't care. Like a man possessed by demons—or perhaps pursued by them—he spurred his stallion over the uneven ground, hat clenched in one hand, reins in the other, his body angled forward along his mount's neck to attain its greatest speed.

The night curled around him like the seductive arms of a woman, and he longed to lose himself in her. Caressing fingertips of chill wind molded his shirt to his body and threaded through his hair, over his neck, under his collar. He wanted to ride faster—then faster still. To plunge ahead into the darkness. To become separate from himself and a discovery his mind simply could not accept.

But he couldn't escape. Not into the darkness. Not anywhere. A man couldn't run hard enough or long enough or fast enough to escape the truth.

Hauling back on the reins, Ace brought his horse wheeling to a sudden stop. Enraged by the rough treatment, the stallion screamed and reared, striking the air with its front hooves. Using the strength of his arm, the vise of his legs, and the weight of his body as leverage, Ace managed to get the animal under control again, but only just barely.

"Easy, Shakespeare, easy," he said, breathing as hard as if he'd been running himself. He gently stroked the animal's lathered neck. "Easy now, boy. I'm sorry."

Ace truly meant that. Since childhood, he'd never abused a horse or allowed anyone else to do so in his presence. Now, here he was, putting his favorite mount at risk just so he could vent his anger. If he wanted to behave like a maniac, better that he run his fist through a stone wall, or jump off a cliff. At least then the injury would be only to himself. Shakespeare had been unfailingly loyal all his life. He deserved good treatment.

Trying to convey by touch what he couldn't with words, Ace ran his hands over the stallion's powerful neck and shoulders, kneading tense muscles, giving affectionate pats. After a while, the horse nickered softly, a sign of forgiveness Ace knew he didn't have coming.

It seemed to be his night to behave like a bastard, first with Caitlin O'Shannessy and now with Shakespeare. Hauling in a deep breath of air fragrant with the scents of grass, wild Sowers, and alfalfa, he rubbed a palm over his face. When his vision cleared, the world looked just as it had a little over an hour ago. The sky was up, the earth was down. Nothing had really changed. And yet it seemed to him that everything had.

Jesus. What had gotten into him back there? For the last three months, ever since he'd begun implementing his long anticipated and meticulously planned revenge against the men who'd murdered his stepfather, he'd been dead certain he held all the cards. He'd planned it all so cleverly, anticipating every eventuality. And then Conor O'Shannessy's daughter had stepped into the light tonight and he'd seen her face clearly for the first time.

With her flashing blue eyes, flame red hair, and delicate features, there was no denying Caitlin O'Shannessy's resemblance to his half-sister Eden. No denying it, no ignoring it, no lying to himself about it. It wasn't just a similanty in their coloring. He might have been able to explain that away. No, this was more than that, a resemblance so remarkable it was stunning. If it hadn't been for the difference in their ages, the two girls might have passed for twins.

Ace felt sick. Physically sick. Caitlin O'Shannessy and Eden Paxton were half-sisters, no question about it, and since he knew damned well they didn't share the same mother, that left only one possible conclusion—that they had the same father, Conor O'Shannessy.

Maybe, way deep down inside, Ace had always suspected the possibility. With her alabaster skin and brilliant red hair,
Eden
had been so completely different from Dory Paxton's other children, and even from Dory herself. But even if Ace had suspected, he'd never consciously acknowledged it. And little wonder. Just the thought that O'Shannessy's blood flowed in his precious half-sister's veins was so absolutely vile, he could scarcely credit it. His mother had always sworn that
Eden
's distinctive coloring came from a long deceased great-aunt on her side of the family. In the early years, shortly after
Eden
's birth, Ace had been too young and naive to question that explanation, and later, when those insidious doubts had tried to slip into his mind, he'd shoved them away. Not
Eden
. Not his sweet little sister Eden. The mere possibility was incomprehensible.

But now there was no denying it. Not because he was older. Or braver. Or better able to accept it. But because the truth had been shoved down his throat when he clapped eyes on Caitlin O'Shannessy. The night of Joseph's hanging, Conor O'Sharniessy had sown his seed, and nine months later, a beautiful girl child had been born, a child Dory Paxton had named
Eden
in memory of her husband's dream.

Dear God ... Ace squeezed his eyes closed, trying without success to make his mind go blank, but the image of his mother's dazed eyes as she staggered from the bushes after being used by Conor O'Shannessy grew stronger until her face and Caitlin's merged. That long-ago night, O'Shannessy had destroyed Dory's dignity. Tonight Ace had nearly done the same to Caitlin, a fact that sickened him.

From a distance, he detected the sound of a horse fast approaching and turned to peer through the moon-silvery gloom. After a moment, he recognized his half-brother Joseph on his dun gelding. At a distance of about ten feet, Joseph, hat pulled low over his eyes, blond hair flying in the wind behind him, stood up in the stirrups and hauled back hard on the reins, bringing the gelding to a skidding halt that sent up a cloud of dust.

Using the grip of his thighs, Ace barely managed to keep his seat as Shakespeare pranced in a half-circle around the other horse, tossing his head and blowing loudly through his nostrils.

Swaying agilely in the saddle for a moment to offset his gelding's imbalanced weight, Joseph cried, "What the hell got into you back there, Ace? Have you totally lost your mind?"

That was a good question, and one that Ace wasn't sure he could answer. He shot his younger brother a caustic glance.

Joseph jerked off his hat, swiped his forehead with his shirtsleeve, and crammed the hat back on his head. The dimple in his cheek flashing with every movement of his lips, he cried, "I can't believe you did that! I just plain can't believe you did it."

That made two of them. Ace settled in the saddle, trying to stay calm. Even though he knew he had it coming, the last thing he needed right now was a dressing down.

"From the very beginning, and at your insistence”, Joseph went on, "we all agreed that our quarrel was with the men directly responsible for Pa's death. Nobody innocent was supposed to get hurt."

"Nobody innocent did," Ace shot back. "As bad as it might have looked, Joseph, nothing happened. At least give me credit for that much."

"Nothing happened? How can you say that? Patrick O'Shannessy has been a real bastard, but that didn't give you any call to take it out on his sister." Jabbing a finger to emphasize his point, Joseph added, "You need your ass kicked for this night's work, big brother."

Rage. It reached a flash point within Ace so fast that he had no time to reason his way past it. Luckily it fizzled out just as quickly. A fistfight with Joseph was not the way he wanted to end this. Especially not when he knew damned well he was in the wrong.

He hauled in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "I'm sorry," he bit out. "I honest to God am, Joseph. It was just—" Ace broke off, searching for some way to explain. "Well, for one thing, I figured she'd hightail it for tall timber the minute she thought her brother was safe. She's not just related to O'Shannessy. She was raised by the son of a bitch. Who would've expected her to keep her end of the bargain?"

"Whether she would've or not is beside the point. You had no call to humiliate her like that."

Ace knew Joseph was absolutely right, but stung pride made him toss back, "Yeah? Well, maybe it was a little harder for me to stay calm. I was there the night Pa died. I saw the whole bloody business, if you'll remember. You didn't come back from the creek until after it was all over."

"That is such bullshit. Any excuse will do, is that it?"

Ace fixed a tortured gaze on his brother. "I'm not trying to excuse my behavior. I went a little crazy there for a minute. I admit it. Let's just thank God it didn't go any further."

"A little crazy? Cheee—rist Almighty! I knew we were gonna have a sham hangin’, but for a while there, I thought you were gonna reenact what happened to ma as well!"

"You have to know I wouldn't have gone that far."

Even in the moonlight, the dubious expression on Joseph's face was unmistakable. "I've never seen you act that way." As his anger dissipated, his voice went gravelly. "I didn't know what to do, whether to stand there and let you do it, or whether to try and stop you. At first, I didn't think you could possibly be serious, you know? Then you grabbed a lantern and actually started herding her toward the rear of the barn. You had a look in your eyes I never want to see again."

Ace rubbed a hand over his face. "You did the right thing, Joseph. My good sense won out in the end, and it could've turned nasty if you'd tried to interfere. I'm sorry if I gave you a bad few minutes. When I first realized .. . well, all I could think about was our poor mother and exacting some small measure of revenge."

A tense silence descended, broken only by the occasional stomp of a hoof or the blowing of air through a horse's nostrils. In the distance, Ace could hear a night bird calling forlornly, its cries fading quickly on the wind. In an attempt to calm down, he took a long draught of air, focusing on the myriad scents that assailed him. Was that honeysuckle he smelled? He let his eyes fall closed and concentrated. On the smells. On the sound of his own heartbeat. Breathing in, breathing out. Slow and easy.