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about. My brother told me Mom wasn’t going to tell Dad she was pregnant, but after she was diagnosed with breast cancer, her doctor encouraged her to let the father know, in case she got too sick to care for me.”

“I can’t imagine that conversation. ‘Hi, Elliott. I have breast cancer, and I’m pregnant with your child.’”

“From what I hear, it was pretty bad, but Dad stepped up, quit drinking, and proposed. And as soon as I was born, he became a full-time dad and carried me in a baby carrier around the breeding sheds and the racetrack until I could walk.”

She imagined him as a precocious three-year-old dressed in pressed khakis and a green polo shirt with the MacKlenna Farm logo over the left breast pocket, along with a leather belt with a horseshoe buckle. The same pants and shirt she’d seen Elliott and JC’s brother, Kevin, wear.

“Would you believe that I could recite breeding statistics before I was three?”

“I can just see you at Keeneland’s yearling sales, strutting around the race track with a brochure rolled up in your hand, impressing buyers and sellers with your knowledge of the yearlings by the top commercial sires.”

He gave her a puzzled look, and then his eyebrows lifted. “Oh, yeah. You and George went to the sales with me during the spring of our sophomore year. Right?”

“That’s when I had the hots for you.”

“I knew you did. Now I wish I’d made a move. But at the time”—he shrugged—“I was doing what I thought was best for both of us.”

“It was a missed opportunity, but we can’t go back now.” She was silent for a moment or two while reflecting on that missed opportunity. Then she broke the silence, saying, “It was fascinating watching you bid on a horse. Your moves were so subtle. I don’t know how the auctioneer knew what you were bidding.”

“He knew his job, and we knew each other. A lift of my finger was the only signal he needed. Then I discovered I was bidding against a family member of the ruler of the Emirate of Dubai. You can’t outbid a man with more gold than God. So I bowed out.”

“You love the horse business…the auctions, the breeding, the races. So what happened? Why’d you walk away?”

“I had to make the break before the family businesses consumed me. I wanted to make it on my own without using the Fraser and Montgomery names to get there.”

“I don’t know anything about your financial situation, but you’ve always had money and cars and planes at your disposal. So how can you complain about family money and then turn around and live off it?”

“I got money from my dad when I turned thirteen, invested it in high-risk, high-reward stocks, and got lucky. Every year my portfolio doubled, and I gave away a percentage of it. Yeah, I have money, but it’s money I’ve made. After that initial gift, all the money they gave me went into an interest-bearing account. When I went off to Harvard, I turned it over to my parents and said, ‘Thank you.’”

“You aren’t risk-averse at all, are you?”

“No.”

“But, if you lost everything you have, you’d still have access to a fortune.”

“You’re right, and if I had a family, I wouldn’t gamble with my assets. I’d be a more conservative investor, but I wouldn’t accept family money to start over. I’d use the money I draw out of my law firm. I like what I’m doing in DC. I might eventually end up working for MacCorp, but it’ll be on my terms, and Dad’s not ready to accept them.”

“What does he want?” she asked.

JC paused a moment and glanced away.

“Never mind. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sure it’s personal.”

He looked back at her, and there was tension at the corners of his eyes. “It’s not that it’s personal. It’s just that it sounds selfish to someone who hasn’t grown up in the clan.”

“Try me out. I’ll give you an honest reaction.”

“Dad has to retire before I take over. That’s my one condition, and it’ll never happen. It’s not that he thinks his ideas are the best. It’s just that all breeders know him and respect him. They know Kevin, too, but he’s the money guy. I can get anybody to the table, but if Dad is there, they’ll always want to deal with him, not me. So, what’s your honest reaction?”

To Ensley, it was as clear as the mud on her jeans, and she couldn’t understand why JC didn’t see it. “You’re very different from your dad. You love the breeding business. That’s where your heart is. You just have to figure out why you believe there’s not room enough for both of you.”

20

Elkhorn Ranch (1885)—Ensley

It was early evening when they rounded a bend in the Little Missouri River, and Ensley stopped abruptly. “Wait!”

She squinted and watched the sun sink behind a cluster of round-topped buttes, glowing chalky white with the sun blazing behind them. “We’re close. The landscape looks familiar now.”

JC removed his hat and swiped his arm across his forehead. “Good. Our backtracking and river crossings have cost several delays today. It’s time to stop and set up camp.”

“We probably should have just headed west and crossed the Badlands. But I’m afraid of being too far from the river. Silly, but…” She released a long, slow breath. “I feel like I’ve wandered in the desert for forty years.”

He resettled his hat. “Our wandering is almost over, and soon we’ll have a better idea of what year it is. And besides, by staying close to the river, we avoided the possibility of running into a hunting party. I don’t think we’d be in danger, but why risk it?”

“We’ve avoided hunting parties, wolves, rattlers, and grizzlies. It’s time to get where we’re going before our luck runs out, and preferably before dark.”

He reached for the canteen and handed it to her, and after she took a long drink, he

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