Chapter 7

Kane slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake Jenna, and hurried into the barn to do his chores. He loved the smell of the stables. Horses, leather, hay, and feed has its own special blend of fragrances. The air inside was warm and Warrior, his black stallion, and Seagull, Jenna’s white Arab mare, greeted him with nods and grunts. Anna’s pony always nodded and tossed her head. It was wonderful to be appreciated. The radio was always on to keep the horses calm and happy, and as he groomed them and mucked out the stalls, he sang along to a few tunes until Duke decided to howl along with him. He looked at him. “Are you joining in or is my voice so bad you’re howling in pain?”

When Duke came to him and leaned against his leg, he bent down to rub his ears. “You know, you could have stayed inside in the warm.”

The sky was clear this morning, with the distinct smell of winter. The frosty air and pine fragrance made him yearn for a day on the slopes. Skiing was something they both enjoyed. But although it was a freezing-cold day, he had a date with his Harley. Saturday mornings he went for a ride, tearing along the backroads around the ranch to clear his head and just enjoy being alive. He loved speed and his motorcycle fed that need. The urge to be out on the road riding fast made him complete his chores in record time. He emptied the wheelbarrow filled with horse dung and hurried back to the house, steam pouring from his nostrils. He fed Duke and then headed for the shower in one of the spare rooms rather than disturb Jenna.

He’d dressed, eaten four Pop-Tarts, and was halfway through his coffee before Jenna called his name. He filled a cup with coffee, added the fixings, and headed to the bedroom. “Morning.” He set the cups on the bedside table, sat on the bed, and bent to kiss her. “I’ll finish my coffee and then head out. I’ll be back to fix breakfast. I’m not going far. It’s bitterly cold this morning. I should be back in half an hour.”

“There’s no rush.” Jenna sipped her coffee. “Rio and Rowley can handle the office and we don’t need to be at Wolfe’s until eleven. If there’s not a break in the case, we’ll have more time with Tauri this weekend.”

Smiling, Kane moved his gaze over her. He loved the way she looked first thing in the morning, all tousled and sleepy. She’d always be the sheriff, but in the mornings she was just his Jenna. “Stay in bed and relax. It’s early and Tauri won’t wake for ages. I’ll be back by then.” He finished his coffee and bent to kiss her again. “Get some rest while you can. This case might blow up at any moment.” He went to the closet, pulled out a thick sweater and his leather jacket.

Pulling the thick gloves out of the pockets, he took his helmet from the shelf and, carrying it, headed for the front door. He set the security system and walked to the garage. Underfoot, the grass crackled, the leaves stiff with a white coating of frost. He pulled on his helmet and, using his palm print to open the garage, stood for a few seconds to admire his motorcycles. The Harley he’d built from a pile of pieces now sat glistening under the lights. Beside it, his work in progress, an old Indian Chief. Finding parts had been difficult but he’d been determined to restore it to its former glory. He only needed a little more time and it would be complete. He climbed onto the Harley and kicked it over, hearing the satisfying rumble of the powerful engine. Helmet secured and gloves on, he drove out of the garage and along the driveway. The garage door closed behind him and the main gates to the ranch slid open as he approached.

Wind blasted him as he flew along the blacktop. All around, the lowlands were covered in a coating of frost. The rising sun sat low on the horizon. Its long golden fingers spread out across the white landscape as it climbed slowly to wake the earth for another day. The backroads around the ranch followed the river along the border of Jenna’s property. He drove past the snowplow guy’s house and then the old Mitchum Ranch, the latter known for its myths and ghosts. It was a favorite for the local kids at Halloween, even after a series of grisly murders. He took his usual route through the small forest area. The narrow strip of blacktop was part of their ranch and rarely used. Seeing the way ahead clear, he accelerated.

Trees flashed past in a sea of brown trunks, and exhilaration filled him. The roar of the engine and the sheer joy of riding made him smile. He increased his speed, moving under the canopy of trees in a flash. The next moment, something hard struck him across the chest. Air rushed out of his lungs as a massive force lifted him from the Harley. Airborne, he tumbled backward, flew through the air, and crashed onto the blacktop, sliding and spinning head over heels. The forest spun around him and he heard the sound of a powerful engine close by. A millisecond later he slammed into a tree and everything went black.