Matthew

Pryor Mountain Range, South Montana

Present day. Early May.

A car crept up the driveway.

Its tires crunched over the gravel, moving closer to the large three-story home. There was a crisp chill in the morning air, which didn’t seem to bother the man who got out from the driver’s side. Standing over six feet tall, Matthew Kellerman ran a brisk glance over the Kellerman estate. It’d always been a gorgeous home.

He could already see telltale signs that it was empty. The grass hadn’t been mowed. Paint was stripping from the sides of the house. The shrubbery in the fields that would normally be trimmed low looked untouched.

He sighed.

Of everyone, the only one who remained at the house was his stepsister, and he found his eyes tracking out to the fields surrounding where he stood on the mountain as if he could see Morgan. He couldn’t. The house was nestled into a side cliff, just short of one of the higher peaks on the hill. He was able to see some of the land around them, the spots that weren’t hidden by dense forest and the river that swept its way around the mountain, winding to the end and leading into a lake that was hidden in the valley between two other mountains.

He could already feel the effects on his body from the altitude. His mouth was parched, and he felt the beginning of a headache forming just behind his temples.

Yes. He looked back to the stately home. It’d been too long since he’d been back.

Way too long.

Grabbing his bag from the trunk, Matthew went inside, using the keys that hadn’t been used in four years.

The second he stepped inside, memories came at him with breakneck speed.

He could hear Morgan’s laughs of glee as she raced around the house. She was the youngest of them and was brought into the family when his father and her mother married. Either he or one of his two other siblings always raced after her. Finley and Abigail doted on Morgan as much as he did. The twins might’ve only been two years younger than him, but they were four years older than Morgan.

The last time he’d seen her, which was four years ago, he had hardly recognized her. She would’ve been twenty-four then. Her hair had darkened, but there were still streaks of blonde in it from her time in the sun. Her skin had been golden tan. And she held the same smell of the wild mixed with the scent of the horses she spent more time with than she spent with humans.

Even then, he saw how wild she was. He also saw just how much like her mother she looked too. She had the same slender build, the same striking beautiful hazel eyes, and the same cheekbones. Yes. Morgan had been stunningly beautiful back then. He couldn’t help to wonder how much more so she had become, but glancing out the window, his thoughts were interrupted.

Another vehicle was pulling up outside. Matthew heard the same sounds of the tires moving over the tiny rocks, and he went straight for the coffee machine. Seconds later, laughter pealed through the air.

“Holy shit. It hasn’t changed up here.”

“Are we looking at the same house?” A feminine voice laughed. “This place is a mess. Morgan hasn’t been keeping it up.”

A snort from the other. “Are you kidding me? Taking care of a house isn’t in her repertoire. We all know that.”

A trunk slammed shut as Matthew was pouring the full-sized pot of water into the machine. He was rummaging through the cupboards when the door opened and his two siblings walked inside.

Finley dropped his bags onto the floor with a thud. His eyes lit up when he saw his older brother, and his arms spread wide. “Matt! You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Abigail laughed as she came in next, dropping her bags next to Finn’s. “And when he says sore, he means it. He’s been complaining about his back for the last hour.”

Matt and Finley caught up in a hug, smacking each other on the shoulder. Pulling away, he turned toward his sister and pulled her in for a tight hug. “Man. I’ve missed you guys.”

Abby let out a soft sound, wrapping her thin arms even tighter around him. “Not as much as we’ve missed you.” Tears filled her brown eyes, and she wiped them away. “I’m already crying. What a mess.” She waved her hand in the air, drying her face and letting her gaze travel to the opened back of the coffee machine. “Oh, I didn’t think Morgan would have coffee stocked for us.”

“Well, I haven’t actually found any, but I was hoping.”

“Nope.” Finley shook his head as their sister left the house. “Abby knew this would happen. She made me stop in Silver Springs on the way because of it. We all know Morgan is outside as long as the weather allows it.”

That was most of the year. Even back when they were kids, she took to the mustangs living around the property like a fish to water. It was an old cliché, but the best way to describe it. It wasn’t normal, but it was special. She was “adopted” by one mare, and since the first day Morgan had clambered onto Shoal’s back, she lived more in the mustang world than the human one. He had hoped growing up, getting her high school diploma, and then an online college degree would urge her to become more ingrained in their world. His world.

It hadn’t.

“Have you seen her?”

Finley was going through his phone but paused and looked up. His features tightened before he shook his head. “I was hoping maybe you had.”

Four years. That was a long time.

Abby returned, carrying three grocery bags. Finley took them, setting them onto the counter, and Abby opened the one closest to her and pulled out the tin of coffee grounds. “Now we have coffee.” She laughed again and ran a tired hand down her hair. “The essentials.”

Finley reached into one of the other bags and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “Speak for yourself, Abs. This is my essential.”

“Speaking of.” Matt pulled out three glasses. Inspecting them for dirt, he raised his eyebrows. “They’re actually clean.” He put them in front of his brother. “Fill me up, Finn. It’s been a long day of traveling for all of us.”

Finn opened the bottle, pouring a double shot in each before offering the bottle to his sister. “You want in on this?”

She grimaced. “No, thank you.” She moved to the coffee machine, measured out the grounds, and then hit the brew button. “Coffee will do the trick for me.” She pulled open the cupboard closest to her, saw it was more glasses, and moved to the next. She pressed her lips together. “I’m in shock. Morgan must’ve been here recently. Maybe she’s more human than horse, after all.”

They all paused, sharing a look before bursting into laughter.

Abby shook her head. “Whatever she is, she did the dishes. They’re freshly washed.”

“How can you tell?” Matt had moved to the other side of the counter so he was standing next to Finn. Both brothers wore custom-tailored suits, but while Matt kept his dark hair a couple of inches long so he could tuck it behind his ear, Finn’s was trimmed short. All three siblings had dark, almond-shaped eyes and dark hair; though, Matt’s had a touch of blond in it.

Abby took out a plate and held it up. “It’s still warm to the touch.” Biting her lip, she put the plate back and opened the fridge. She gasped in surprise. “And stocked the fridge too.”

One bin was filled with lettuce, tomatoes, green peppers, and onions. A crisper had oranges, apples, strawberries, and raspberries. She pulled out a ketchup container and twisted off the top. It still had the seal over it. “She went shopping for us.”

She opened the freezer. “Holy crap. There’s enough chicken in here to last us till the movie’s done.”

The movie. The reason they were all there.

A grin tugged at the corner of Matt’s mouth, and he crossed the kitchen to the two large French doors. Standing there watching the horizon, the mountainside, he held his glass of bourbon in one hand and slipped his other hand into his pocket.

She was out there, and he had a hunch she was watching him back.

Finn moved to his left side, and Abby moved to his right.

All three Kellerman siblings looked out at the same time, each wearing a different expression.

A touch of wonder hit Abby’s eyes. A slight grimace flashed over Finn’s face, but Matt just kept looking. Unlike his two siblings, who had come to the house for the same project that would bring trailers of movie equipment within the week, he was home for a whole other reason.

Abby rested her head on his shoulder, saying softly, “I wonder what she’s doing right now.”

Finn grunted, finishing his bourbon. “Who cares? She wants to live out there with the herd of wild horses, that’s up to her.” He moved around to refill his glass. “Makes no difference to me.”

Matt didn’t say anything, only transferred his glass to his other hand and reached to grasp Abby’s arm in a half-hearted embrace.

Morgan was ten when everything fell apart, but they had gotten four years with her. Four years after their father married her mother and moved them into this house. Four years before everything ended in travesty.

Abby murmured again, “I can feel her in this house.” She shivered, looking around. “And it’s weird. It’s as if I can also feel Morgan.” Abby lifted her head, peering at her older brother. “Is Dad coming?”

Matthew shook his head with the slightest of movements. “You know how he is.”

Abby grunted.

They had two days to get the estate into shape because, within the week, actors, grips, the director, producers, and everyone from the catering staff to the actors’ assistants’ assistants would start arriving.

They were coming to film a movie about Morgan’s mother, about how Karen Kellerman was murdered.