The prodigal Cahill is back—and ready to confess

Tucker Cahill disappeared from Gilt Edge, Montana, hoping to escape a secret that has haunted him for nineteen years. Then, when a young woman’s remains are found in the creek near his family’s ranch, he has no choice but to face his demons. The truth that sent him running years ago could take away his freedom now.

Kate Rothschild came to town looking for vengeance—and Tucker Cahill. What she finds is a tortured and irresistible man who’s more than meets the eye. Caught up in the past, they are drawn deeper into a twisted game that’s not over yet. And the consequences could prove fatal for them both...

Also By B.J. Daniels

The Montana Cahills

Renegade’s Pride

Outlaw’s Honor

Cowboy’s Legacy

Cowboy’s Reckoning

Hero’s Return

The Montana Hamiltons

Wild Horses

Lone Rider

Lucky Shot

Hard Rain

Into Dust

Honor Bound

Beartooth, Montana

Mercy

Atonement

Forsaken

Redemption

Unforgiven

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Hero’s Return

B.J. Daniels

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08323-2

HERO’S RETURN

© 2018 Barbara Heinlein

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Praise for New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels

“B.J. Daniels is at the top of her game...the perfect blend of hot romance and thrilling suspense.”

—New York Times bestselling author Allison Brennan

“Super read by an excellent writer. Recommended!”

—#1 New York Times bestselling author Linda Lael Miller on Renegade’s Pride

“With a surprising villain, a mystery full of twists and turns and engaging characters, Renegade’s Pride is an addictive page-turner.”

—BookPage

“In her Cahill Ranch series, Daniels has created an intriguing setting and a cast of characters that prompt reader loyalty.”

—RT Books Reviews on Outlaw’s Honor

“Crossing multiple genres, Daniels successfully combines Western romance, suspense and political intrigue with ease.”

—RT Book Reviews on Hard Rain

“The heartwarming romance gets wrapped up here, but the book ends with a cliffhanger that is sure to have fans anxious for the next title in the series.”

—Library Journal on Lucky Shot

“Forget slow-simmering romance: the multiple story lines weaving in and out of Big Timber, Montana, mean the second Montana Hamiltons contemporary...is always at a rolling boil.”

—Publishers Weekly on Lone Rider

“[The Montana Hamiltons] should definitely be on the must-read list... A great introduction for new readers to this amazing author.”

—Fresh Fiction on Wild Horses

No one knows how to fish walleyes better than friend, fishing buddy and fellow Twilight Zone fan Mike Larson. This one is for you and your lovely wife, Elizabeth. We enjoy having the two of you in our lives.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Praise

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

Extract

About the Publisher

PROLOGUE

THE OLD FOOTBRIDGE creaked and groaned under her weight as she made her way in the darkness to the center where the water would be the deepest. She could hear the roar of the creek rushing beneath her, but she tried not to think about what she was about to do.

The Montana spring air had a sharp bite to it tonight. She shivered but kept walking, the bundle in her arms cradled protectively against her chest. The creek was much higher than the last time she’d been here and running much faster. She felt another shiver, this one from fear.

She’d forgotten the distance from the bridge to the creek’s surface. The water would be icy cold, stealing her breath away, as if that was the worst of her problems. For a moment, she looked downstream. All she could see was darkness. Large old cottonwood limbs leaned out over the stream, casting even blacker shadows over the inky water.

Tucker Cahill was late. Maybe he wasn’t coming. She wished he wouldn’t, but she knew this cowboy. He’d come. They always did.

Reaching the middle of the bridge, she stopped to wait. The wind was strong here. It swept her long blond hair into her eyes, but she didn’t dare let go of the bundle in her arms to brush it aside.

Instead, she stood, buffeted by the tempest of her emotions more than the rising gale. She knew that if she wasn’t careful she could lose her balance and be pitched into the water below before it was time. There was no railing on the footbridge. One misstep and she would be over the side, falling for what would seem like forever before she struck the powerful current and was swept away.

She glanced toward the opposite end of the bridge. What if he’d changed his mind about meeting her tonight? He was already suspicious. One clear thought surfaced as she waited. She didn’t want to do this anymore. Couldn’t. It had to stop—and it would—tonight.

Sensing Tucker, she glanced toward the shoreline and saw movement. She watched as seventeen-year-old Tucker Cahill made his way along the creek bank. The big handsome cowboy moved in long, determined strides. Of course he’d come, because he didn’t want to let her down. He was already that kind of man at seventeen. She felt a mixture of shame, anger and disgust. He knew what kind of woman he was meeting tonight. Why had he let it go this far?

A part of her wanted to warn him off, to send him back, to let this one go. But there would be consequences downstream if she did. No, she had to finish this.

When he spotted her in the dim starlight, she saw that he was immediately alarmed to see her teetering so close to the edge of the bridge. He called to her, telling her not to move, as he strode, long legged, along the creek bank and then up onto the footbridge.

“Don’t come any closer,” she warned him as she hugged the bundle tighter and told him how he had ruined her life.

The emotion in her voice made him hesitate, but only for a moment. The bridge swayed as he took a few tentative steps toward her, his boots echoing on the worn wood.

She balanced on the razor’s edge of the bridge before calling out another warning, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. He thought he could save her from more than the strong current beneath her. He wasn’t the first man to think that.

The wind pushed at her back. The bridge swayed. And yet she didn’t jump. For a moment, she thought she couldn’t go through with it. She looked down at the bundle in her arms. The tiny nose and mouth, the brown of the eyes shiny in the starlight. But ultimately, she knew she had no choice. There was no turning back now. She was in too deep; they all were.

“Please, don’t move!” the cowboy pleaded and quickened his step as he kept coming.

The footbridge swayed crazily under her feet. Tears stung her eyes as she looked down at the water. She was so tired. She just wanted this to be over. No matter the cost, it would end tonight.

Tucker was gaining on her fast. If she didn’t move...

She wavered for a moment on the precipice until he was almost to her before she jumped. As her head went under in the freezing cold water, only then did she let go of the burden in her arms and was quickly swept away.

CHAPTER ONE

Skeletal Remains Found in Creek

The skeletal remains of a woman believed to be in her late teens or early twenties were discovered in Miner’s Creek, outside Gilt Edge, Montana, yesterday. Local coroner Sonny Bates estimated that the remains had been in the creek for somewhere around twenty years.

Sheriff Flint Cahill is looking into missing-persons cases from that time in the hopes of identifying the victim. If anyone has any information, they are encouraged to call the Gilt Edge Sheriff’s Department.

“NO, MRS. KERN, I can assure you that the bones that were found in the creek are not those of your nephew Billy,” Sheriff Flint Cahill said into the phone at his desk. “I saw Billy last week at the casino. He was alive and well...No, it takes longer than a week for a body to decompose to nothing but bones. Also, the skeletal remains that were found were a young woman’s...Yes, Coroner Sonny Bates can tell the difference.”

He looked up as the door opened and his sister, Lillie, stepped into his office. From the scowl on her face, he didn’t have to ask what kind of mood she was in. He’d been expecting her given that he had their father locked up in one of the cells.

“Mrs. Kern, I have to go. I’m sorry Billy hasn’t called you, but I’m sure he’s fine.” He hung up with a sigh. “Dad’s in the back sleeping it off. Before he passed out, he mumbled about getting back to the mountains.”

A very pregnant Lillie nodded but said nothing. Pregnancy had made his sister even prettier. Her long dark hair framed a face that could only be called adorable. This morning, though, he saw something in her gray eyes that worried him.

He waited for her to tie into him, knowing how she felt about him arresting their father for being drunk and disorderly. This wasn’t their first rodeo. And like always, it was Lillie who came to bail Ely out—not his bachelor brothers, Hawk and Cyrus, who wanted to avoid one of Flint’s lectures.

He’d been telling his siblings that they needed to do something about their father. But no one wanted to face the day when their aging dad couldn’t continue to spend most of his life in the mountains gold panning and trapping—let alone get a snoot full of booze every time he finally hit town again.

“I’ll go get him,” Flint said, lumbering to his feet. Since he’d gotten the call about the bones being found at the creek, he hadn’t had but a few hours’ sleep. All morning, the phone had been ringing off the hook. Not with leads on the identity of the skeletal remains—just residents either being nosy or worried there was a killer on the loose.

“Before you get Dad...” Lillie seemed to hesitate, which wasn’t like her. She normally spoke her mind without any encouragement at all.

He braced himself.

“A package came for Tuck.”

That was the last thing Flint had expected out of her mouth. “To the saloon?”

“To the ranch. No return address.”

Flint felt his heart begin to pound harder. It was the first news of their older brother, Tucker, since he’d left home right after high school. Being the second oldest, Flint had been closer to Tucker than with his younger brothers. For years, he’d feared him dead. When Tuck had left like that, he’d suspected his brother was in some kind of trouble. He’d been sure of it. But had it been something bad enough that Tucker hadn’t felt he could come to Flint for help?

“Did you open the package?” he asked.

Lillie shook her head. “Hawk and Cyrus thought about it but then called me.”

He tried to hide his irritation that one of them had called their sister instead of him, the darned sheriff. His brothers had taken over the family ranch and were the only ones still living on the property so it wasn’t a surprise that they would have received the package. Which meant that whoever had sent it either didn’t know that Tucker no longer lived there or thought he was coming back for some reason.

Because Tucker was on his way home? Maybe he’d sent the package and there was nothing to worry about.

Unfortunately, a package after all this time didn’t necessarily bode well. At least not to Flint, who came by his suspicious nature naturally as a lawman. He feared it might be Tucker’s last effects.

“I hope you didn’t open it.”

Lillie shook her head. “You think this means he’s coming home?” She sounded so hopeful it made his heart ache. He and Tucker had been close in more ways than age. Or at least he’d thought so. But something had been going on with his brother his senior year in high school and Flint had no idea what it was. Or if trouble was still dogging his brother.

For months after Tucker left, Flint had waited for him to return. He’d been so sure that whatever the trouble was, it was temporary. But after all these years, he’d given up any hope. He’d feared he would never see his brother again.

“Tell them not to open it. I’ll stop by the ranch and check it out.”

Lillie met his gaze. “It’s out in my SUV. I brought it with me.”

Flint swore under his breath. What if it had a bomb in it? He knew that was overly dramatic but, still, knowing his sister... There wasn’t a birthday or Christmas present that she hadn’t shaken the life out of as she’d tried to figure out what was inside it. “Is your truck open?” She nodded. “Wait here.”

He stepped out in the bright spring day. Gilt Edge sat in a saddle surrounded by four mountain ranges still tipped with snow. Picturesque, tourists came here to fish its blue-ribbon trout stream. But winters were long and a town of any size was a long way off.

Sitting in the middle of Montana, Gilt Edge also had something that most tourists didn’t see. It was surrounded by underground missile silos. The one on the Cahill Ranch was renowned because that was where their father swore he’d seen a UFO not only land, but also that he’d been forced on board back in 1967. Which had made their father the local crackpot.

Flint took a deep breath, telling himself to relax. His life was going well. He was married to the love of his life. But still, he felt a foreboding that he couldn’t shake off. A package for Tucker after all these years?

The air this early in the morning was still cold, but there was a scent to it that promised spring wasn’t that far off. He loved spring and summers here and had been looking forward to picnics, trail rides and finishing the yard around the house he and Maggie were building.

He realized that he’d been on edge since he’d gotten the call about the human bones found in the creek. Now he could admit it. He’d felt as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And now this, he thought as he stepped to his sister’s SUV.

The box sitting in the passenger-side seat looked battered. He opened the door and hesitated for a moment before picking it up. For its size, a foot-and-a-half-sized cube, the package was surprisingly light. As he lifted the box out, something shifted inside. The sound wasn’t a rattle. It was more a rustle like dead leaves followed by a slight thump.

Like his sister had said, there was no return address. Tucker’s name and the ranch address had been neatly printed in black—not in his brother’s handwriting. The generic cardboard box was battered enough to suggest it had come from a great distance, but that wasn’t necessarily true. It could have looked like that when the sender found it discarded and decided to use it to send the contents. He hesitated for a moment, feeling foolish. But he didn’t hear anything ticking inside. Closing the SUV door, he carried the box inside and put it behind his desk.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Lillie asked, wide-eyed.

“No. You need to take Dad home.” He started to pass his sister but vacillated. “I wouldn’t say anything to him about this. We don’t want to get his hopes up that Tucker might be headed home. Or make him worry.”

She glanced at the box and nodded. “Did you ever understand why Tuck left?”

Flint shook his head. He was torn between anger and sadness when it came to his brother. Also fear. What had happened during Tucker’s senior year in high school? What if the answer was in that box?

“By the way,” he said to his sister, “I didn’t arrest Dad. Ely voluntarily turned himself in last night.” He shrugged. Flint had never understood his father any more than he had his brother Tuck. To this day, Ely swore that he was out by the missile silo buried in the middle of their ranch when a UFO landed, took him aboard and did experiments on him.

Then again, their father liked his whiskey and always had.

“You all right?” he asked his sister when she still said nothing.

Lillie nodded distractedly and placed both hands over the baby growing inside her. She was due any day now. He hoped the package for Tucker wasn’t something that would hurt his family. He didn’t want anything upsetting his sister in her condition. But he could see that just the arrival of the mysterious box had Lillie worried. She wasn’t the only one.

CHAPTER TWO

TUCKER CAHILL SLOWED his pickup as he drove through Gilt Edge. He’d known it would be emotional, returning after all these years. He’d never doubted he would return—he just hadn’t expected it to take nineteen years. All that time, he’d been waiting like a man on death row, knowing how it would eventually end.

Still, he was filled with a crush of emotion. Home. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it, how much he’d missed his family, how much he’d missed his life in Montana. He’d been waiting for this day, dreading it and, at the same time, anxious to return at least once more.

As he pulled into a parking place in front of the sheriff’s department, he saw a pregnant woman come out followed by an old man with long gray hair and beard. His breath caught. Not sure if he was more shocked to see how his father had aged—or how pregnant and grown-up his little sister, Lillie, was now.

He couldn’t believe it as he watched Lillie awkwardly climb into an SUV, the old man going around to the passenger side. He felt his heart swell at the sight of them. Lillie had been nine when he’d left. But he could never forget a face that adorable. Was that really his father? He couldn’t believe it. When had Ely Cahill become an old mountain man?

He wanted to call out to them but stopped himself. As much as he couldn’t wait to see them, there was something he had to take care of first. Tears burned his eyes as he watched Lillie drive their father away. It appeared he was about to be an uncle. Over the years while he was hiding out, he’d made a point of following what news he could from Gilt Edge. He’d missed so much with his family.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he opened his pickup door and stepped out. The good news was that his brother Flint was sheriff. That, he hoped, would make it easier to do what he had to do. But facing Flint after all this time away... He knew he owed his family an explanation, but Flint more than the rest. He and his brother had been so close—until his senior year.

He braced himself as he pulled open the door to the sheriff’s department and stepped in. He’d let everyone down nineteen years ago, Flint especially. He doubted his brother would have forgotten—or forgiven him.

But that was the least of it, Flint would soon learn.

* * *

AFTER HIS SISTER LEFT, Flint moved the battered cardboard box to the corner of his desk. He’d just pulled out his pocketknife to cut through the tape when his intercom buzzed.

“There’s a man here to see you,” the dispatcher said. He could hear the hesitation in her voice. “He says he’s your brother?” His family members never had the dispatcher announce them. They just came on back to his office. “Your brother Tucker?”

Flint froze for a moment. Hands shaking, he laid down his pocketknife as relief surged through him. Tucker was alive and back in Gilt Edge? He had to clear his throat before he said, “Send him in.”

He told himself he wasn’t prepared for this and yet it was something he’d dreamed of all these years. He stepped around to the front of his desk, half-afraid of what to expect. A lot could have happened to his brother in nineteen years. The big question, though, was why come back now?

As a broad-shouldered cowboy filled his office doorway, Flint blinked. He’d been expecting the worst.

Instead, Tucker looked great. Still undeniably handsome with his thick dark hair and gray eyes like the rest of the Cahills, Tucker had filled out from the teenager who’d left home. Wherever he’d been, he’d apparently fared well. He appeared to have been doing a lot of physical labor because he was buff and tanned.

Flint was overwhelmed by both love and regret as he looked at Tuck, and furious with him for making him worry all these years.

“Hello, Flint,” Tucker said, his voice deeper than Flint remembered.

He couldn’t speak for a moment, afraid of what would come out of his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was drive his brother away again. He wanted to hug him and slug him at the same time.

Instead, voice breaking, he said, “Tuck. It’s so damned good to see you,” and closed the distance between them to pull his older brother into a bear hug.

* * *

TUCKER HUGGED FLINT, fighting tears. It had been so long. Too long. His heart broke at the thought of the lost years. But Flint looked good, taller than Tucker remembered, broader shouldered, too.

“When did you get so handsome?” Tucker said as he pulled back, his eyes still burning with tears. It surprised him that they were both about the same height. Like him, Flint had filled out. With their dark hair and gray eyes, they could almost pass for twins.

The sheriff laughed. “You know darned well that you’re the prettiest of the bunch of us.”

Tucker laughed, too, at the old joke. It felt good. Just like it felt good to be with family again. “Looks like you’ve done all right for yourself.”

Flint sobered. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Like Dad used to say, I’m like a bad penny. I’m bound to turn up. How is the old man? Was that him I saw leaving with Lillie?”

“You didn’t talk to them?” Flint sounded both surprised and concerned.

“I wanted to see you first.” Tucker smiled as Flint laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently before letting go.

“You know how he was after Mom died. Now he spends almost all of his time up in the mountains panning gold and trapping. He had a heart attack a while back, but it hasn’t slowed him down. There’s no talking any sense into him.”

“Never was.” Tucker nodded as a silence fell between them. He and Flint had once been so close. Regret filled him as Flint studied him for a long moment before he stepped back and motioned him toward a chair in his office.

Flint closed the door and settled into his chair behind his desk. Tucker dragged up one of the office chairs.

“I wondered if you wouldn’t be turning up since Lillie brought in a package addressed to you when she came to pick up Dad. He often spends a night in my jail when he’s in town. Drunk and disorderly.”

Tucker didn’t react to that. He was looking at the battered brown box sitting on Flint’s desk. “A package?” His voice broke. No one could have known he was coming back here unless...

Flint’s eyes narrowed as if he heard the fear in his brother’s voice. “I thought maybe you’d sent it on ahead of you for some reason.”

Tucker shook his head. “Apparently someone was expecting me,” he said, trying to make light of it when the mere sight of the box made him sick inside.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re back,” his brother said. “Whatever it was that sent you hightailing it out of here... We’ll deal with it as a family. I only wish it hadn’t taken you so long to return.”

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

“You think?” Flint sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I knew something was going on with you your senior year.”

Tucker nodded, his gaze shifting to the box sitting on his brother’s desk. He swallowed. “It wasn’t something I could talk about back then.”

“And now?” Flint’s phone rang. He buzzed the dispatcher to hold all his calls unless they were urgent. “I’m sorry. The phone’s been ringing off the hook. You probably haven’t heard. One of the locals found skeletal remains in Miner’s Creek.”

“Actually, I did hear. That’s—”

Flint’s phone rang again. He groaned as he picked up, listened and rose from his desk. “That was the coroner. I have to run next door. Not sure how long it’s going to take. Where are you staying?”

“I just got in.”

“You’re welcome to stay with me and my wife, Maggie. Or you can always go out to the ranch. I think your room is as you left it. Hawk and Cyrus have been busy running the ranch. No time to redecorate even if they had an inclination to do so.”

Tucker nodded. “I’m looking forward to seeing the place—and the rest of the family. So you’re married. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I have to run.” Flint came around his desk to put a hand on Tucker’s shoulder again. “I’m glad you’re back. I hope it’s to stay.” He looked worried. Not half as much as he was going to be, Tucker thought.

“I’ll be sticking around.”

Flint sighed. “Then we’ll talk soon. You have a lot to catch up on.”

As his brother went out the door, Tucker rose and stepped to the desk and the box sitting there. Just as Flint had said, it was addressed to him. He didn’t recognize the handwriting—not that he figured he would. Picking up the pocketknife lying beside the box, he still hesitated, afraid of what was inside, but unable not to open it to find out.

He sliced the tape across the top and carefully turned back the flaps. A faintly moldy scent rose from the box along with the rustle of newsprint. For a moment, he didn’t see anything but wadded-up newspaper and what appeared to be pages from a magazine.

Hesitantly, he pushed some of the paper aside and blinked, unsure for an instant as to what he was seeing. With a startled gasp, he jerked back as though bitten by a rattlesnake. Heart pounding and sick with disgust, he reached in and removed the wadded-up paper until all that remained in the box was the tiny battered naked doll.

One dull dark eye stared up at him—the other eye missing from the weather-beaten toy. Shaking all over, his stomach heaving, he lurched around his brother’s desk to throw up in the trash.

CHAPTER THREE

FLINT STOOD AT the edge of the autopsy room, trying to breathe normally. He’d never liked the morgue, especially early in the morning when the smells always got to him.

Today the morgue reeked of eggs and sausage. Sonny had been eating a breakfast sandwich when Flint had come in.

“Busy morning. They brought in a homeless man.” He nodded toward the second table where the naked corpse lay, its chest cavity open. “Looks like a heart attack given the condition of the heart.” He made a motion as if offering to show it to him, but Flint waved that off.

Sonny, making a “your loss” face, put aside his sandwich to move to the other table where the skeletal remains had been placed in the positions where each had once been when connected.

“Amazingly, she’s only missing a few fingers,” Sonny was saying. “But the deputy who brought back the earth she’d been found in is still sifting through it, so he might find them yet.”

Flint merely nodded.

“You can tell a lot from bones. Like this fibula,” Sonny said, picking up the left leg bone. “The length of the long bones tells us about what age she was—early twenties. From measuring the femur, tibia, humerus and their radii, I can tell that she was about five foot six. She was medium boned. If you look at the state of the bones, you can get a pretty good indication of how long she was buried along the creek bank. Fifteen to twenty years, but closer to twenty years.”

“You’re sure it’s been that long?” Flint asked, thinking how impossible it might be to identify the woman, let alone locate next of kin if they did.

“It’s not an exact science. It takes a while for the body to decompose to the skeletal stage.” Sonny started to put the leg bone back but held it up one more time. “Looks like she broke her left leg. It’s an old break that was long healed before she went for a swim.”

He put down the bone and picked up another one. “These bony ridges form where the muscles were attached to the wrist. She could have had a job where she used her hands, like a waitress.” Putting that bone back, he picked up the skull.

Flint saw that tufts of long blond hair were still attached to it. “What about DNA from the hair?”

“Already sent some over to the lab. But look at this.” He pointed at the teeth. “Not a great diet. She had cavities and not much dental work.”

“So what killed her?” Flint asked.

Sonny shrugged. “The obvious would be drowning, right? But this is what I really wanted you to see. I thought you’d find it interesting.” He turned the skull. Flint had to move closer to see what Sonny was pointing to. “Wood. See, some of the wood splinters are still embedded in the side of the skull. I’m betting that’s what killed her.”

“Wood?”

He nodded and began to walk him through it. “Assuming she either jumped into the river to swim or fell, depending on what time of year it was, her head made contact with a tree limb violently enough to kill her.”

“Is it possible the blow to her head didn’t kill her instantly? Her remains were found a dozen yards from the creek.”

“She might have been able to get out of the water, but she wouldn’t have been able to go far. She wouldn’t have survived long with that kind of head injury. Certainly not long enough to hide herself under a pile of driftwood.”

“So it appears to have been an accident, but someone covered up her death by hiding her body,” Flint said.

Sonny gave that some thought. “Had that one a few years ago, you might recall, where the fisherman slipped on the rocks, fell and hit his head. Made it almost back to his car before he died. His wound wasn’t as severe. I supposed she might have been able to get out of the water and crawl a few yards. Seems more likely someone helped her and, when they saw that she was badly hurt or dead by then, hid her body. At least she wasn’t swimming in the creek alone.”

“My brothers and I used to go fishing and swimming by ourselves all the time. Never even considered that we might fall and hurt ourselves badly enough to kill us.”

Sonny shook his head. “Kids. But this woman was old enough to know better. I have to wonder why her companion tried to cover up her death. Must have felt responsible. Well, whoever it was, he’s had to live with it all these years. Guess it’s come home to roost now, though, huh.”

“Maybe,” Flint said, not as optimistic as Sonny apparently that justice would get done on this case. Fifteen to twenty years was a long time. The case was ice-cold. Not to mention the fact that the statute of limitations had run out for the crime of hiding a body.

He said as much to Sonny. “No hurry on this case since no one reported a woman this age missing fifteen to twenty years ago.” He frowned as he looked at the coroner and realized what he’d said. “What makes you think it was a man who buried her?”

“No woman would cover up her friend’s death,” Sonny said with confidence.

“You ever meet my ex-wife, Celeste?” he joked.

The coroner laughed. “I have five dollars that says it was a man.”

“You’re on, but more than likely we’ll never know.”

“Oh, you’ll find him. Want to bet that I’m wrong about her age?” Sonny asked.

“No. I’m not going to let you hustle me.” Flint took one last look at the bones on the table. “What I don’t understand is why someone didn’t report her missing,” he said more to himself than to the coroner. “A family member, a friend, someone. I’ve checked and there are no missing-persons reports that match up from that time period.”

“Could be she wasn’t from here. Or maybe family tried to report her missing. It was before your time as sheriff. Anyway, as you know, law enforcement doesn’t get too involved when the missing woman is in her early twenties unless there is reason to believe it might have been foul play.”

Flint knew that to be true. Often missing persons that age simply have hit the road and don’t want their relatives to know where they’ve gone. Kind of like his brother Tucker.

“Could be, too, that she didn’t have any kin looking for her,” Sonny said. “Or they had some reason they didn’t want the law involved.”

* * *

AS TUCKER HEAVED up the last of his breakfast and wiped his mouth, he heard Flint’s concerned voice behind him.

“Tuck?”

He turned slowly to look at his brother. All the years, all the fear and pain, rushed at him like a locomotive barreling down on him. “It’s my fault,” he said, his words coming out as broken as his heart. “The remains you found in the creek? I killed her—and our baby.”

Minutes later, Tucker slumped into the chair his brother offered him. He pressed the cold can of cola Flint had gotten from the vending machine down the hall against his forehead. After a few moments, he opened the can and took a sip as he tried to gather his thoughts. He’d known this would be hard. But after seeing what was in that package...

Flint had looked into the box but hadn’t touched the doll. Instead, he’d moved the package and the paper that had been inside to the floor beside his desk and waited.

“I don’t know where to begin,” Tucker said, although he knew his story began the moment he saw her. Summer, twenty years ago. He and his friends had taken a road trip. They’d stopped for gas in a small town in another county to the northwest.

“I got out to take a leak. It was one of those old gas stations with the restrooms along the side. When I came out, I saw her. She was coming from behind the building, crying and looking behind her like someone was after her. When she saw me, she stopped, wiped her tears and gave me this smile that rocked my world.” He shook his head. “I was hooked right there. She asked for my help. I had some money, so I gave it to her. I could hear my friends loading up to leave. She asked if I had to go or if maybe I wanted to go somewhere with her. She offered me a ride home.”

He looked up to see Flint’s expression. “I know. I was young and foolish and she was...” He shook his head. “Mysterious. Mesmerizing. Amazing. She had long blond hair and these wide blue eyes that when I looked into them I felt as if I was diving into an ocean filled with things I’d never seen before. Things no one had ever seen before. She was captivating and yet so vulnerable. I’d never met anyone like her. I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I had wanted to. I fell hard.”

“You couldn’t have told me what was going on?” Flint asked.

“We had to keep it a secret from everyone, even you. Her father and brother... She said she wasn’t allowed to date until she was eighteen. Her father was very strict. The day we met, she’d had an argument with him. She said she wanted to run away. She couldn’t live in that house any longer and as soon as she turned eighteen... She said she’d graduated early, but he wouldn’t let her leave until her birthday.”

“So you were going to run away with her,” Flint said.

Tucker shook his head and looked away for a moment. “I was going to marry her as soon as I graduated. But then she told me that she was pregnant. We didn’t use any protection that first time.”

“The day you met her.”

He nodded. “I... She was my first. We spent that summer seeing each other every chance she got to sneak away and meet me. Three months in, she told me she was pregnant. I was determined to marry her right then and there, but she said her father would kill her if he found out she was pregnant—and he or her brother would kill me. She said there was only one thing to do. She would leave, get settled and send for me.”

Flint groaned. “She asked for money.”

“I scraped up what money I could.”

“You sold your pistol and your saddle. When I realized that you’d sold those, I thought you had been planning to leave home for months before you actually did.”

“I gave her the money with the understanding that she would contact me after she ran away and I would drop out of school and meet her. Months went by without hearing from her. I couldn’t eat or sleep. Going to school was killing me. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I drove up to the town where I’d met her.”

“Let me guess,” Flint said with the shake of his head.

“Yep, there had never been anyone by the name of Madeline Ross in Denton, Montana. No father, no brother that I could find.” He shook his head. “She’d lied to me about her name and, it seemed, everything else. I went by the library, looked through the school annual for the year she said she’d graduated—a year ahead of me. Nothing. I thought I’d never hear from her again.”

“You aren’t the first man to be conned by a good-looking woman,” Flint said.

He nodded. “Like you, I thought the whole thing had been a scam, especially when I got a message from her that she needed more money.” He raked a hand through his hair, avoiding Flint’s gaze. “She said she’d had to lie out of fear, but that she would tell me everything when we met and I gave her the money.” He sighed. “I told her I couldn’t raise any more, but that I would graduate soon and get a job and... She told me to forget it and hung up.”

“I suspect she didn’t let you off that easily.”

Tucker shook his head. “I knew I’d been played, but a part of me wanted desperately to believe at least some of it was real. I held out hope that there really was an explanation. Later that night, she called to tell me to meet her at the bridge over the creek near our ranch and she would tell me everything.”

Flint sat up a little in his chair. “I remember that night. When you came back to the house, your clothes were soaking wet. You were so upset. You said you were just angry with yourself because you’d fallen in the creek and to leave you alone. I wish now that I hadn’t listened to you.”

“I went in the creek, all right. When I reached the edge of the bridge she was waiting for me in the middle holding something in her arms. She told me not to come any closer or she would jump. Remember, I hadn’t seen or heard from her in months.” His voice broke. “She was holding our child. She said she’d had the baby prematurely, a little boy, and that he was sick and that’s why she’d asked for the money. I promised I would get it, but she said it was too late, that I’d ruined her life. She said that her father and brother were demanding to know who the father of the baby was, but that she hadn’t told, couldn’t, because she loved me too much. I kept moving toward her. I had to. I thought if I could hold her... I tried to get to her, but before I could, she jumped.”

Flint frowned. Tucker knew he had to be asking himself if all this had been just a scam, then why would she have jumped?

“There’d been a storm a few days before so the creek was running high,” Tuck said. “I dived into the water but...” He bent over in his chair to stare down at his boots for a moment as he tried to blot out that night. The pain had stayed with him for all these years. Being back here just made it worse.

“She was gone,” he said finally. “I found a torn piece of the blouse she’d been wearing and the baby blanket caught in some limbs.” He wagged his head, unable to go on.

“That’s why you came back now,” Flint said with a curse. “The skeletal remains that were found in the creek. You think they belong to this Madeline Ross. You’ve been waiting all these years for her body to turn up?”

Tucker nodded slowly.

Flint shook his head. “I left earlier to go next door to the coroner’s office. He estimates the woman was in her early twenties, but he doesn’t believe that she drowned. Sonny says she died of a head wound from crashing into a log.”

He stared at Flint. “So she must have hit a limb as she was being carried downstream by the current.” Was that supposed to relieve his mind?

“The reason it took nineteen years for her remains to turn up—if they are hers—is because she was found under dirt and driftwood yards from the creek. The coroner doubts she could have gotten that far with the head injury that killed her. This spring the creek got so high it overflowed into that old drainage and washed out the side of the bank along with the driftwood or the remains might never have been found that far from the creek.”

Tucker sat back. His head was spinning. “I don’t understand.”

“It appears it was an accident. She must have hit her head while being swept down the creek.”

“Still, it’s my fault.”

“Tuck, it was all a scam. She wasn’t alone that night. She didn’t hide her own body under the dirt and driftwood at the edge of the old creek bank. Someone was waiting for her downstream. They probably pulled her out, panicked since Sonny says the blow to her head would have killed her quickly. So that person buried her body and covered the grave with driftwood away from the creek.”

“What? No, she came alone that night.”

Flint sighed. “If she had come there alone, her vehicle would have been found when she didn’t return to it.”

Why hadn’t he thought of that? Tucker felt sick to his stomach all over again. “Someone could have dropped her off.”

“Right, with plans to pick her up. Tuck, she wouldn’t have taken such a chance jumping in that creek with it running so high unless someone was waiting downstream to help her out. Whoever pulled her body from the creek that night was working with her. The person would have driven whatever vehicle they’d arrived in that night—after they hid her body.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Of course she wasn’t working her scam alone. He was such a fool. All these years of believing he’d been responsible for her death and that of their son...

“I’m assuming the remains belong to the woman you knew given what you’ve told me,” Flint said. “But until we get a positive ID...”

“I thought I killed her and the baby. Were her remains all that were found?”

“No sign of a baby. Did she ever show you any proof that she was pregnant?”

“No, but—”

“So you don’t know that what she had in her arms that night was even an infant.” Flint nudged the box on the floor with his boot. “It could have been a doll. It could have even been that doll. Do you have any idea who sent this to you?”

He shook his head. “Someone who wants me to still believe that I killed her. I’m surprised they didn’t try to blackmail me.”

“Tuck, I think whoever sent the box was trying to tell you that it had all been a scam—including the baby. But there is one way to find out.” Flint picked up the phone and dialed.

“There was no note in the box?” the sheriff asked as he waited for an answer on the other end of the line.

Tucker shook his head.

“But they had to know that when the remains were found it would bring you home,” Flint said. “You left town so soon after that night, they might not have known where you’d gone. Or they were so upset about what happened, the game was over—at least for a while.”

“Well, they know where I am now, if that package is any indication.”

Flint seemed to consider that. “The coroner, please,” he said when someone answered on the other end of the line. “Did anyone else know about the two of you?”

“Madeline swore me to secrecy. I never told anyone.” His head was spinning. Madeline hadn’t survived the raging waters of the creek that night just as he’d feared. She’d apparently brought about her own death by misjudging the creek’s current. “When will we know for certain that it’s her?”

“The coroner is having DNA run on the hair follicles. If we knew where she was really from, we could check dental records. You met her in Denton? Then there is a good chance she’s from somewhere around this area. Also, if she has family, they might come forward now.”

“She said she had a father and brother. But she could have lied about that, too.”

“Sonny?” Flint said into the phone. “I have a question for you.”

Tucker hardly listened. He was staring at the box with the doll in it, trying to make sense of everything. It had been a scam. Even the baby, though? But if Flint was right and Madeline hadn’t come alone that night...

His brother hung up. “Sonny says the remains of the woman he has at the morgue never had a child. He can tell from the pelvic bones.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Tucker said and rubbed a hand over his face, his brain fighting to reevaluate what he thought had happened that night. It had always been about money for Madeline. The plan must have been for her to disappear and whoever was working with her to blackmail him all these years. Only Madeline had hit something in the water and died. None of the rest had been real.

“You must think I’m a complete fool,” he said.

“You were young and vulnerable. She targeted you. If the remains are hers, then she was a lot older than she told you, and I’m betting that you weren’t her first—just her last. But her jumping into that creek...” Flint shook his head. “That was gutsy and dangerous. She must have known you were getting suspicious so she pulled out all the stops. But like I said, she couldn’t have done it alone. Someone had to be waiting downstream to fish her out of the water. Except she hit her head and died. Between that and you leaving town, it threw a monkey wrench into their plan.”

“They had me right where they wanted me.”

Flint nodded. “They would have bled you dry with blackmail. There are a lot of limbs hanging over that creek. It’s ironic, but it would appear she got cocky and wasn’t able to pull off her last deception. All this assuming the remains are hers.”

“Still, if the creek hadn’t overflowed, she would have never turned up and I would have gone on waiting, believing I killed her and our son.” Tucker glanced at the box on the floor with the doll inside. “Whoever sent that box knew I would come back to Gilt Edge now.”

“Sure looks that way. If anyone contacts you, thinking they can still cash in, don’t leave me out of the loop this time.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you all those years ago. Before you saw me, I’d gone down to the pay phone at the edge of town and made an anonymous call. I said I’d seen a girl fall into the creek.” Tucker gave his brother a sad smile. “I was scared, filled with guilt.”

“You were just a kid. Nothing you could have done would have saved her. Sonny said she couldn’t have survived her head injury.” Flint frowned. “Now that you mention it, I remember Dad saying he’d seen sheriff’s deputies down at the creek. When they didn’t find a body, they would have assumed your call had been a hoax.”

“Whoever she was working with had already hidden the body and cleared out by the time the sheriff’s deputies got there.”

“Tuck, you didn’t kill her. She jumped in the river trying to get money out of you. Her death was an accident.”

He rubbed the back of his neck for a moment. “Still, I’ve always felt I should have done more or at least done things differently. If I’d just raised the money and given it to her...”

Flint shook his head. “She would have come back for more. You have to realize that. She was a con artist.”

He knew he’d been a damned fool from the moment he’d met Madeline. She’d been his first. She’d made him believe that she loved him as much as he did her. He thought he was going to save her from her horrible family.

And now, if those skeletal remains in the morgue were hers, she was dead—and had been for nineteen years. Not just dead. Caught up in her own scam. But who hid her under the driftwood that night downstream? Whomever she’d been in league with. The man she was really in love with? A man who had talked her into jumping off a bridge into raging water in the dark as part of a con? Or had that been all her idea?

He had felt responsible for her death and the baby’s for so long it was hard for him to let go of the guilt. He’d been played. And not just by the woman he’d known as Madeline Ross. He’d been played by whomever she was working with.

“The worst part,” he said with a bitter bark of a laugh. “Is that I really thought I loved her and would never love anyone else the way I had her.”

But a completely different emotion was bubbling up inside him like a geyser in Yellowstone National Park. If whoever had been working with her thought they could blackmail him... He hoped they would try. He wasn’t that teenager they’d tricked all those years ago. This cowboy was more than ready for them now.

CHAPTER FOUR

BILLIE DEE RHODES stopped singing to smile as the back door of the Stagecoach Saloon opened early the next morning. A cool spring breeze rushed into the kitchen along with the freshly showered scent of the cowboy who entered.

The fiftysomething Texas-born-and-bred cook turned from her pot of chili she had going to smile at Henry Larson, the retired rancher she’d been seeing for months now. He’d started stopping by for a cup of coffee with her early in the morning months ago. Now it was an every-morning occurrence that had grown into something much more.

He looked around to make sure no one else was up and at work yet, then stepped to her and gave her a kiss. “Good morning, Tex,” he said, smiling as he locked gazes with her. Neither of them could believe they’d found love at this age.

It was their little secret. Billie Dee had wanted it that way, but Henry was right about everyone who knew them getting suspicious. The retired rancher had already told his sons, who now worked his ranch.

But Billie Dee hadn’t told the Cahills, the amazing family that she’d come to know since taking the cook position at the saloon. She felt as if she was part of the family and hated keeping it from them. One of these days I’ll tell them, she kept assuring herself.

She poured Henry a cup of coffee and one for herself before joining him at the kitchen table. Henry was a big handsome cowboy with gray at his temples. The retired rancher had been a widower for over five years.

Billie Dee had come to realize that Henry was a man who could do just about anything and had. He was her hero in so many ways.

She’d joked when she’d moved to Montana that she was looking for a big handsome cowboy. She’d just never dreamed at her age that one would come along.

Henry had been so patient with her, making it clear that he wanted to marry her. So why was she dragging her feet? It wasn’t like the man didn’t know just about everything there was to know about her. Well, almost.

There was one thing she hadn’t told him. That one huge regret of her life that she hadn’t shared with him yet. So what was holding her back?

“Beautiful morning,” she said, glancing out the window toward the mountains lush with pines and new green grass. She loved spring in Montana. Winter, though, was more a love-hate relationship. How could she not love the falling snow? Or being curled up in front of a warm fire with her cowboy? It was driving through it, scraping ice and snow off her windshield, fighting drifts to get out of her driveway, that she hated.

Henry kept telling her that once they were married, she would never have to do any of that again. She wouldn’t have to cook at the saloon, either, if she didn’t want to. Maybe that was another reason she was putting off the next step. She loved her job.

“No babies yet?” he asked after taking a sip of his coffee.

“Both Lillie and Mariah look like they could pop any second, but nope, not yet.” Billie Dee was excited for them, but it would mean that Mariah and Darby Cahill would move out of the apartment upstairs over the saloon and into their house that was almost finished.

Darby had offered her the apartment upstairs rent-free. “You won’t have to drive through the snow in the winter. All you have to do is come downstairs.”

She’d been touched, but then again Darby and the rest of the Cahill clan didn’t know about the romance brewing between her and Henry. “Thanks, I’ll think about it,” was all she’d said.

“You’re going to have to tell them,” Henry said now as if reading her thoughts.

“I was waiting until the babies were born.”

Henry laughed and shook his head. “What are you so afraid of? That once you tell them, you will have to finally really consider marrying me?”

She smiled. “I do want to marry you. But...”

“I told you, you don’t have to give up your job here, if that’s what you want. And certainly not your wonderful independence.”

Billie Dee reached across to put her hand on his. “I know. I promise, I’ll do it soon.”

He looked skeptical as they heard footfalls on the stairs and she quickly removed her hand.

Darby came into the kitchen, greeting them both. Billie Dee got up to get back to her cooking. Henry finished his coffee and said he’d see them later.

“I didn’t mean to run him off,” Darby said, coming over to join her at the stove.

She heard something in his voice and glanced at the young handsome cowboy turned bar owner. Darby was grinning.

“Okay, Henry and I are...more than friends.”

He laughed. “Like I didn’t already know that. So when is he going to make an honest woman out of you?”

She swatted at him with a pancake flipper.

“It’s just an expression,” he said quickly as if afraid he’d offended her.

“He’s asked me to marry him.”

“Billie Dee, that’s wonderful. So?”

“So, I’m thinking about it. Now, don’t go blabbing to the rest of the family just yet.”

Darby shook his head. “Lillie has suspected for months. You can’t keep something like this quiet, especially around my sister.”

* * *

DRIVING TOWARD THE RANCH, Tucker felt as if he could breathe for the first time in years. All he could think about was seeing his family. He’d start with his brothers Cyrus and Hawk, then he’d go down to the saloon that Lillie and Darby owned. He was excited to see them all, but there was still a weight holding him down.

Until he knew if the remains were Madeline... Until he knew whom she’d been working with...

The road to the ranch wound through towering pines adjacent to Miner’s Creek. Everything was a beautiful lush green. He loved spring in Montana and had missed it. This time of year, the creek was still low. It was too early for the snow in the mountains to have melted and for spring runoff to begin. Turning into the ranch, he parked but didn’t see his brothers anywhere around.

As anxious as he was to see them, he knew there was something he had to do first. He had to face the nightmare that had haunted him for nineteen years. Heading for the creek, he took the same path he’d taken that night. In the shade of the pines, the air felt cold. Montana in the spring was beautiful but still chilly. The weather could change from sunny and warm to snowing and threatening in a matter of hours this time of year.

He breathed in the scent of pines and was transported back to the summer before his senior year. It had been mind-blowing sneaking off to be with Madeline, keeping the amazing secret, captivated by her body and his new experience with sex. His emotions had been all over the place.

Even when she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d been ready to marry her and run away with her. He realized how foolish that had been. But he had been on a high like none other. He would have done anything for her. Still, a part of him wanted to have been the hero that night.

What if he had jumped into the creek in time to save her that night? Or talked her out of jumping... He reminded himself that she’d lied. She hadn’t been scared of her father and brother that night. So why take the chance?

Money. And whoever was waiting for her downstream.

The path he’d taken broke out of the trees at the edge of the creek. He could hear the babble of the water over the smooth stones. The water would run clear and low for a few more weeks. He figured it would have been a fisherman who’d found her skeletal remains. He used to spend hours on this creek fishing with his father and siblings.

Ahead, he spotted the bridge and stopped for a moment, reliving that night. The moon had been full. Was that why she’d picked that particular night? He’d seen her in the moonlight standing in the middle of the bridge as he walked down the creek toward her—and she would have been able to see him.

Climbing up the steps to the raised footbridge, he stopped a few yards in—just as he had that night. The scene was so vivid. The moonlight filtering through the thick boughs of the trees. The smell of the creek and the lush brush filled the air. And the dark water, shadowed by the tree limbs hanging over it.

Madeline had stood on the bridge, clutching the bundle in her arms to her chest. He could almost hear her voice, raised in anger. Her telling him that he’d let her down. He’d ruined her life. Ruined not just her life, but their son’s, as well.

He took a step forward and then another, just as he had that night. He’d been so sure that he could reach her, that he could change her mind, that their love for each other could overcome anything.

Fool. Hadn’t she heard how his heart was breaking? How could she have gone ahead with her plan knowing how much he’d loved her?

As he reached the middle of the bridge, he stopped to look down. He still couldn’t believe she’d jumped into the fast current that night. There hadn’t been a railing on the footbridge back then. He could see her quickly stepping to the edge as he screamed for her to stop.

Tucker felt ice fill his belly at the memory. He could hear the roar of the water, the roar of his cry. He could see her hesitate for just an instant before she disappeared over the side.

He’d rushed forward in time to see her head go under in the swift current. It was the last time he saw her. He’d jumped in, but she was gone and so was whatever she’d been holding. The doll he’d gotten in the mail? If it was her remains that had been found, then she’d never had a child. Another lie. Another gut-wrenching lie.

Looking downstream he could see yellow crime scene tape caught on a tree limb out in the middle of the creek next to a deep hole where he used to fish. The tape flapped in the wind as if mocking him. This nightmare wasn’t over. Whoever had sent him the package with the weatherworn doll knew something. What were they trying to tell him?

He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t seen the figure come out of the trees until he heard the loud snap of a twig. He stared downstream as a young woman made her way to the edge of the creek. Dressed in jeans, sneakers and a jean jacket, she wore a baseball cap that hid her hair. She looked out at the flickering yellow crime scene tape for a moment, before making her way to a spot where it was obvious that the deputies had dug up what remains had still been buried. The woman stepped under the crime scene tape that hadn’t blown away. She definitely didn’t look like a cop.

But then what was she doing there? Morbid curiosity or... To his shock, she suddenly hugged herself, bending over as if in pain. He realized that she was crying. Huge sobbing wails carried on the breeze, making the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up.

What the hell? Had she known Madeline? He felt a chill run the length of his spine. A friend? Or the person who’d buried her there? Was it possible he was looking at the person Madeline had been working with?

She must have sensed him, because she turned toward the bridge. Seeing him standing there, she hurriedly wiped her tears and started to leave, but not before she did something that shocked him even more.

The woman spit on what had been Madeline’s grave.

CHAPTER FIVE

TUCKER WAS TOO stunned to move for a moment. What had he just seen? One thing was certain. The young woman who’d just spit on Madeline’s grave knew her!

His mind whirled. Did that mean she knew who she really was? Because she had helped her con Tucker? Or because she had reason to hate her?

As the woman disappeared into the pines, he finally shook himself out of his shock and got his feet moving. He had to talk to this woman. If she knew something...

The footbridge was old, the boards uneven and slippery this morning with dew. Still, he ran after her, slipping and almost falling in his cowboy boots. He couldn’t believe what he’d seen and heard. The sobbing. The pain he’d witnessed. And then...the hatred. It made no sense.

He’d only reached the pines when he heard a vehicle’s engine start up farther away from the creek. Racing up the trail, he realized that the woman must have run back to her vehicle. Otherwise, he would have been able to catch her before she drove away.

By the time he cleared the pines, she had driven almost to the road into town. He was too far away to get all of the license plate numbers on the vehicle she was driving. But it was definitely a Montana tag and the SUV was an expensive pearl-white one. If he saw it again...

He turned and ran back toward the ranch, mind racing. All those years ago, he hadn’t been able to learn who Madeline really was. She’d lied about so much. This was the first real lead he had on her. The irony of it was that her death was his first lead.

He was finally going to learn the truth about all of it, including who had been waiting for her downstream that night.

All he had to do was find another mystery woman, this one driving an expensive SUV.

* * *

THE SHERIFF GOT the call just before heading home for lunch. Maggie was making his favorite—barbecued short ribs. He didn’t want to be late. Also, he didn’t like to spend any more time than he had to away from his wife. As far as he was concerned, the honeymoon would never be over.

But it was also Tuck’s first night home. He was thinking he should get the family all together. Everyone would want to see Tuck. And probably want to know everything. Poor Tucker. His sister especially would demand answers and Lillie could be relentless. It was one reason he hadn’t told the rest of the family. Given the circumstances, he could tell Tucker needed time. His brother also needed to do this on his own—at his own speed.

Flint saw that it was the coroner calling and picked up. “I have a possible identification on your Jane Doe,” Sonny said. “Madeline Dunn, formerly of Clawson Creek, Montana.”

Madeline Dunn? “Possible? How did you come up with a name so quickly?”

“Dental records. I queried the dentists in the largest town within about one hundred miles of Gilt Edge, faxed them the X-rays and got a hit the first try. Great Falls, Montana, 106 miles away.” He listened while the coroner thumbed through some paperwork. “An eighteen-year-old had an abscessed tooth pulled at the dentist there. But what made him remember the girl and her mouth was that she had four wisdom teeth on each side, something so strange that the dentist took her X-rays down the hall to show another dentist. Very rare apparently.”

“That was lucky.”

“It was twenty-three years ago. She had no insurance or identification, but she wrote him a check that bounced. The account had been closed. Madeline Dunn never returned and the dentist never got his money. He’d always wondered if she’d had trouble with all those wisdom teeth.”

“Wait, twenty-three years ago?” Flint asked. He thought of the story Tucker had told him. It added up perfectly, including that Madeline Ross had been older than she’d told his brother. And obviously more experienced.

“That would make our deceased about twenty-two,” Sonny was saying. “Am I good, or what?”

Flint laughed. “You’re good, but like you said, it was all in the bones.”

“So true, but someone has to read them. As good as I am, though, you might want to wait until we get the DNA back before you try to track down next of kin. Up to you.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Sonny. Clawson Creek, huh? I think I’ll hold off until we see what the DNA might bring up.”

“As you wish,” the coroner said.

* * *

TUCKER REACHED HIS PICKUP. He still didn’t see his brothers around. They must be out in one of the pastures. Well, he didn’t have time to find them right now. He had to catch the woman before she could leave town.

Assuming that was her plan. He climbed behind the wheel of his truck, started up the engine and tore up the road. He knew his way around Gilt Edge. As he drove, he debated where she might be headed. There weren’t that many ways out of town.

The one plate number that he’d been able to make out before she’d gotten too far away had been the first one. Five. Five was Helena, the state capital. The shortest way back to the state capital was the highway to the west. So that meant she would have to drive through downtown Gilt Edge to reach it.

He raced into town, all the time looking for the SUV. Like most rural Montana towns, there were more pickups than cars or SUVs. That pretty pearl-white one would stand out like a marquee. Also, she wasn’t that far ahead of him.

A thought struck him, though. What if she knew the area as well as he did because she’d been here before with Madeline? There were at least six times when Madeline had come to see him to get more money or a favor out of him.

He was still confused by what he’d seen at the creek. The apparent grief, the crying and then the desecration on the primitive grave site. Very strange behavior. He had to wonder about the woman he was chasing.

Tucker thought about calling Flint but stopped himself. While he was sorry he hadn’t gone to his brother for help all those years ago, he couldn’t see any reason to involve the sheriff at this point. Not yet, anyway. But if the woman he was searching for knew Madeline...

If Tucker could get some answers on his own from this mysterious woman, he had to try. Madeline and whoever had been helping her owed him that, though it wouldn’t make up for the past or the years he’d lost.

As he drove, looking for the pearl-white SUV, he told himself that if the woman he’d seen at the creek had been in on the scam with Madeline, then she could be dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous than Madeline.

When he found her, he would get answers. But one thought haunted him. Was he really ready to learn the truth? Even knowing it was a scam, he still wanted to believe that Madeline had cared. He remembered the look on her face that night on the bridge. There had been real pain in her eyes. He couldn’t be wrong about that.

But what if he was wrong?

Even dead, she can break your heart again.

He told himself he wasn’t that horny, green teen Madeline had seduced. Also, he’d already had his heart broken by her. No woman had gotten to him after Madeline. He wasn’t sure any woman could. Not even Madeline herself could break his heart worse after the torment she’d put him through—let alone anything her coconspirator could tell him.

* * *

KATE ROTHSCHILD GLANCED in her rearview mirror. No sign of anyone after her. She’d been so sure the cowboy would try to chase her down after what he’d witnessed.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, determined not to cry again. She couldn’t believe the way she’d broken down at the creek. But seeing that grave and knowing who’d lain in it all this time... She’d held back her pain for too many years and for all the wrong reasons. The grief had come out of nowhere and everywhere. She’d felt like a wounded animal and was sure she’d sounded like one, as well.

Seeing the cowboy on the bridge... She’d thought she’d been alone. She’d purposely waited for law enforcement to leave with their buckets of dirt. The last thing she’d wanted was for anyone to see her there, especially sobbing her heart out.

As she drove toward the small Western town of Gilt Edge, she assured herself that everything would be fine. She’d been right to come here. Not that anything could have stopped her. But she should have known she wasn’t the only one interested in the spot where the woman had been found.

She glanced in her rearview mirror again and smiled. A pickup was tearing down the road behind her. Her pulse leaped at the sight. It was the cowboy; she’d bet on it.

Still smiling, she thought about speeding up and giving him a run for his money. But she was at the edge of town and there was a deputy sitting in his patrol car right by the city-limits sign. She had no choice but to slow down. The truck was gaining on her. If the cowboy wasn’t careful, the deputy would pull him over.

The driver of the pickup slowed. He was right behind her now. She could see his collar-length dark hair under his Stetson. It was the same man. She glimpsed his dark expression and felt a shiver.

Her heart began to pound as she considered what he might do next. He definitely had come after her. Why else was he now riding her bumper? She couldn’t help but wonder what he made of her...behavior at the creek. It appeared she would find out soon enough.

She doubted he was ready for her, Kate thought as she pulled her shoulder bag closer. She wouldn’t need the handgun in it, she told herself, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

* * *

TUCKER COULDN’T BELIEVE IT. He’d caught up to her before she’d reached town. There was no doubt it was the woman from the creek. And she’d seen him. Their eyes had met in her rearview mirror and he’d seen recognition.

He’d also seen the deputy sitting on the edge of town with his radar gun out. Tucker had had no choice but to slow down. Still, there was no way she was getting out of his sight. He would follow her until she pulled over even if it meant following her all the way to Helena.

To his surprise, she pulled over into the Yogo Inn, the local downtown hotel. He swung in behind her but waited for her to get out of her SUV before he exited his pickup. He didn’t trust this woman after what he’d seen at the creek.

She climbed out after reaching into the back seat for her overnight bag. As she closed and locked her car door, she turned to look at him. There appeared to be amusement in her expression, before she headed for the front door of the hotel.

Jumping out of his pickup, he went after her. She had no chance against his long legs. Even at thirty-six he could still run like he had when he’d played football in high school.

“Hold up!” he called to her slim back. On the bridge he hadn’t gotten a good look at her. She’d been wearing a jean jacket so he hadn’t seen her figure. Now she wore only a T-shirt and jeans, and filled out both in an appealing way that momentarily distracted him.

Also, at the creek, her hair had been covered by a baseball cap. Now her long dark hair fell in a riot of loose curls down to the middle of her back. As she moved, it swayed in luxurious shiny ebony waves.

“Miss!”

She pretended not to hear him, he was sure of it. But she wasn’t getting away. This woman was the closest he’d come to knowing who Madeline Ross really had been—and maybe what she’d been capable of.

He quickly caught up to her and, grabbing one slim arm, spun her around to face him. He was momentarily startled by her wide green eyes in a face that could have stopped traffic. Her cheekbones were high, her mouth bow-shaped.

He’d expected her to be alarmed. Or at least frightened by having a man accost her in a hotel parking lot. But as she stared back at him from the depths of all that emerald green, he only saw a curious regard. Her lips parted slightly as if waiting to be kissed before turning up at the corners in more pronounced amusement.

Taken aback, he had trouble finding his voice.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked as he quickly released her arm.

“Sorry,” he said as he stared her. She was definitely the woman from the creek, but she wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting. He’d assumed since she’d known Madeline that she would be more like her. This woman was much more refined, educated and apparently well-off. It seemed impossible that she could have been working with Madeline all those years ago.

So how did he explain what he’d seen at the creek?

He couldn’t and for a moment he didn’t know what was going to come out of his mouth. “I’m sorry. I thought you were...” He shook his head.

She hadn’t moved, hadn’t turned and run; she hadn’t even tried to put a little distance between them. Instead, she was studying him with those wide-open green eyes. If anything, he saw interest in those eyes.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned for him.

It made him angry. He should be concerned for her, given what he’d seen. What was worse was that he realized that this woman couldn’t possibly be the person who’d been working with Madeline all those years ago. She wasn’t old enough.

He felt like an even bigger fool. But still, he hadn’t imagined what he’d seen at the creek. But what had he seen?

“I saw you at the creek earlier.” He waited for her to explain. She didn’t. “You seemed upset.”

“Did I? Is that why you chased me down?”

“I got the feeling that you had some connection to the woman whose remains were found in the creek. I must have been wrong.”

“No, you’re not wrong.”

That stopped him in his tracks. “I beg your pardon?”

“What did she call herself?”

He felt as if he’d fallen down a rabbit hole. “I’m sorry, who are we talking about?”

“The woman who broke your heart.”

“Oh, her,” he said with a laugh. “Are we still talking about the woman found in the creek?”

“Only if she’s the one who broke your heart. Oh, I see. She did. I thought as much. Do I remind you of her?” she asked and tucked a lock of her dark hair behind one ear. A diamond earring winked in the sunlight.

“No, she couldn’t hold a candle to you,” he admitted truthfully. In retrospect, everything about Madeline had been disingenuous from her blond hair to her name. While everything about this woman was the real thing. Not that any of that had mattered when he was seventeen and in love for the very first time.

Tucker realized he was staring again—and having an even harder time following this conversation. He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m confused.”

She chuckled. “I’m not surprised.” She held out her hand. “Katherine Rothschild, but my friends call me Kate.”

“Tucker Cahill.” Her hand was small and warm, the skin silken, the manicured nails a sweet pale pink. “Rothschild,” he repeated and held on to her hand a little too long. Anyone who had ever lived in Montana knew that name. “Your father—”

“Is the former senator and now a congressman in Washington, DC.”

Clayton Rothschild was a mover and shaker in DC and one of the wealthiest men in the state. He owned almost as much land in Montana as Ted Turner.

“Cahill? Any relation to Sheriff Flint Cahill?”

“He’s my brother.” He frowned, suddenly wondering how a young woman like her—let alone a Rothschild—would know Flint. Not to mention what she’d been doing down by the creek earlier. She still hadn’t explained what he’d seen. All she’d done was confuse him.

“You said you do have a connection to the dead woman?” He was having trouble believing that.

She smiled. “And so do you, I’m guessing. Do they have a positive identification on her yet?”

“Not that I’ve heard. How do you know all this?”

“About the skeletal remains being found? From the news. That’s why I’m here. I’d planned to speak to your brother Flint. But it was nice to meet you instead. Well, I better get checked in before they give my room away.”

“Wait,” he said, realizing she’d sidestepped almost every question he’d asked her. “You haven’t told me what you were doing at the creek earlier. I heard you crying. I also saw you spit on the woman’s grave.”

Kate Rothschild nodded, smiling. “Nor have you told me what she called herself, this woman who broke your heart.”

“Madeline.”

“Well, in that case, you should buy me dinner tonight,” Kate said. “It appears we have some things in common.”

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Of course not. Pick me up at seven.” With that, she turned and headed into the hotel.

Tucker watched her go.

“It was nice meeting you, Tucker Cahill,” she said over her shoulder an instant before the door closed behind her.

* * *

KATE HAD JUST stepped into the hotel when her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and saw that it was her mother calling again. She pocketed her phone and proceeded to get checked in. Her mind kept straying in the direction of Tucker Cahill. She was still embarrassed that he’d witnessed her breakdown at the creek. But in a twist of fate, it had all worked out better than she’d planned. And now she was having dinner with him tonight.

Strike while the iron is hot, she thought and realized that she’d just used one of her mother’s expressions. That was a sour thought.

Once in her room, she walked to the window and looked out on Gilt Edge. It was named after one of the gold mines back in the mountains that surrounded the town. Her phone rang again. She’d thought it was her mother again, but it was her father’s personal assistant, Peter.

He was the last person she wanted to talk to considering their last discussion.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Peter had asked before she’d flown home to Helena. She’d been in DC on an errand for her father when she’d heard about the young woman’s remains being found in Miner’s Creek—next to the Cahill Ranch. She’d been anxious to return to Montana as quickly as possible. Peter had insisted on dinner before her flight, and even before the entrées arrived, she’d regretted saying yes.

“I’m going home,” she’d said, pretending she didn’t know what Peter was referring to. While her father spent most of his time in Washington, DC, her mother preferred living outside Helena on the ranch. It was there that Kate and her brother had grown up.

“You’re opening a Pandora’s box,” Peter had argued. “Think about what it could do to your father’s career.”

She had thrown down her napkin and pushed to her feet. “Her bones have been found. The box is already open.”

“For God’s sake, Katie, sit back down before you embarrass us both.”

“I’m going to finish this—come hell or high water and no one, especially you, can stop me. And I’m not your Katie.” With that, she’d walked out, caught the flight home and then driven to Gilt Edge.

Her cell phone rang again. Her mother. She knew she couldn’t keep avoiding her so she picked up. “Hello, Mother.”

“Katherine.” The word was filled with reproach.

Her mother was Helena’s leading socialite. Kate knew that she liked being a big fish in a little pond, unlike getting lost in the crowd in DC where she was just another politician’s wife.

But Mamie Rothschild would never admit that. Just as she would never admit there were any bad memories in that big old house outside Helena. Her mother didn’t allow herself to acknowledge anything unpleasant. Her strong resilient mother was a survivor, she thought grudgingly, and she’d raised Kate to be one, as well.

“Did you get my message?” her mother demanded.

“No, what was it?”

“I’ve spoken with your father. He feels the same way I do. He said he would fly back from DC if he had to, but he’d prefer that you stop what you’re doing.”

She realized she could thank Peter for this. The next time she saw him... “I’m not doing anything more than what I always do, Mother.” She pushed back the curtain at the hotel window and realized that from here she could see the cut in the trees where the Cahill ranch house must be—not that far at all from the creek. How convenient.

“We both know why you’re in Gilt Edge and it isn’t your interest in some story about bones found in a creek near there.”

“You might be surprised by who or what I’m interested in.”

Reproving silence filled the line. “I don’t wish to talk about your personal life, if that’s what you’re referring to with that remark. Peter is just as upset as your father and I. You need to stop this.”

“Actually, what I’m doing is getting ready to go on a date.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How could you possibly be going on a date? You and Peter—”

“Are not serious. I’ve told you that numerous times.”

“Well, maybe you aren’t serious, but Peter is. You’re making a mistake. Peter is perfect for you.”

“No, he’s perfect for what you and Father want for me. Tonight I’m going out with a cowboy. His name is Tucker Cahill.”

“Cahill?” Her mother sounded breathless.

“Yes. He and I already share a special bond. We met today at the creek where the bones were found. I asked him to take me out to dinner.”

Mamie would be horror-stricken if she’d known that Kate had lost control out at the creek—especially since there’d been a witness. And not just any witness. Tucker Cahill. With the Cahill Ranch so close, Kate shouldn’t have been surprised to see the cowboy there, especially now that she had confirmed that they had something in common.

Tucker Cahill had known Madeline. From his expression earlier, he’d known her well. That thought turned her stomach. He’d chased her down to find out what she knew. And now she was having dinner with him tonight to find out what he knew. Talk about strange bed partners, so to speak.

Even stranger was who had brought them together.

“You need to come to your senses,” her mother was saying.

“Oh, I have. I told you I would never let this go. Tucker doesn’t know it, but he’s going to help me.”

Her mother sniffed angrily. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“On the contrary. I’m good at what I do, Mother, so I have a pretty good idea of what I’m doing.”

The next words were delivered like a dagger of ice. “You know what I mean.”

“I have to get ready for my date.”

“I’m calling your father and Peter,” her mother threatened.

“Daddy won’t come home. Not for this. He will want to stay as far away as he can from anything...ugly. I’m afraid you’re on your own since there is nothing you can say to stop me. As for Peter, you really are wasting your time. He has nothing to say that I want to hear.” She disconnected, surprised how angry she was. Or how close she was to tears again.

Clearly she wasn’t as strong as she’d thought. But she was as determined as she’d been every day for the past nineteen years. She wasn’t going to let anyone stop her. Not even Tucker Cahill.

* * *

TUCKER HAD JUST reached his pickup when his cell phone rang.

“Where are you?” Flint asked. “I just tried the ranch. Cyrus said they hadn’t seen you.”

He could hear the fear in his brother’s voice. Flint had thought he might have left town again without a word. “Sorry, I got waylaid. I’m on my way there now.”

“How about a change of plans? I just talked to Maggie. She’s up for all of us going to the Stagecoach Saloon tonight and celebrating your return.”

“Oh, that sounds great but I can’t tonight. I have a date.”

“A date? Tucker, you just got back to town.”

“I know,” he said with a laugh. “I’m as surprised as you are. If you saw her, you’d be even more surprised.”

“Who is this woman?”

“Kate Rothschild.”

“Rothschild? Of the Montana Rothschilds?”

“Apparently so.”

“What is she doing in Gilt Edge?”

He couldn’t tell his brother what he’d witnessed. Not until he knew more. “Just passing through, I think.”

“And you just happened to cross her path?” Flint asked.

“Yep, must be fate.” Even as he said it, he wondered if it wasn’t true. They would never have met if he hadn’t seen her at the creek today. He would have never known her connection to Madeline. Not that he did yet, but he would by tonight.

“Fate, huh?”

“You have such a suspicious mind.”

Flint laughed. “I’ve been told that. It goes with the job. Look, I’m happy for you, but I was hoping we could get together your first night home. The rest of the family is anxious to see you.”

“I know. They’ll also want answers about where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing and why I left,” Tucker said. “I’m not sure I’m up to an interrogation tonight. It’s been kind of a rough day and a relief at the same time.”

“I know. It was a lot to take in.” His brother seemed to hesitate. “We might have an ID on the remains from the creek. They could belong to a woman named Madeline Dunn from Clawson Creek. She would have been twenty-two.”

Tucker took in that information for a moment. “Madeline Dunn.”

“I’m not going to try to find the next of kin until we get the DNA results.”

“Dunn, huh,” Tucker said. He finally had a name. After all these years of wondering who Madeline really was...

“Are you sure I can’t talk you into changing your plans?” Flint asked.

Not a chance, Tucker thought. “Not tonight. But I’m anxious to see everyone, too. In fact, I’m headed for the saloon right now. Thought I’d swing by on my way back to the ranch. Any chance I can catch both Lillie and Darby there?”

“I just talked to them so I’d say there is a very good chance.”

“Great, after that I’ll go to the ranch and see Hawk and Cyrus. I’m going to be staying out there in my old room if they’ll have me.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Flint asked.

“It’s going to take some getting used to. But I’m glad to be home—even under the circumstances. Don’t worry about me, little brother.”

Flint chuckled. “Sorry. I’ve worried about you for years. It’s become a habit that is going to take time getting used to not worrying about you.”

Tucker pulled up in front of the Stagecoach Saloon, which his sister and brother, fraternal twins, owned. “I’m at the saloon.”

“If I don’t talk to you later, have fun on your date.”

“I’ll try.” But as he disconnected, he didn’t think it was that kind of date. He was curious as hell about Kate Rothschild. But for the life of him he couldn’t understand how Kate could have anything to do with Madeline, which made what he’d witnessed at the creek all that more intriguing. Add to that, she’d said they had something in common with the bones found in the creek.

His cell rang before he could exit his pickup. He saw it was Flint again and picked up.

“Tuck,” his brother said without preamble. “Be careful on your date tonight. I just looked Kate Rothschild up on the internet. She’s an award-winning investigative reporter for a big New York newspaper. I can’t imagine what she’s doing in Gilt Edge, unless she’s interested in the remains found in the creek. In which case, she might also be interested in you. Is there any way she could have known about you and Madeline?”

CHAPTER SIX

KATE WAS STILL upset after the phone call. She’d known how her mother felt. She’d even accepted that her mother did her best to avoid anything unpleasant in life by changing the story. That meant telling the new, improved story until she actually believed it was true. Was it any wonder Mamie Rothschild’s daughter had become an investigative reporter so there was at least a little truth in her life?

Moving away from the window, she thought about her date tonight. The elusive Tucker Cahill was certainly making this easier for her. She’d been suspicious when she’d learned that he’d left town nineteen years ago—right after graduating from high school. Right after Madeline seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. Now, she didn’t have to ask what had brought him back given what she already knew about him. She just hadn’t expected it to be this easy.

Now that she’d met him, she had to admit, he wasn’t what she’d expected. The cowboy was bigger, stronger looking, more solid—almost to the point of being intimidating. He reminded her of some of the romance-novel-cover models, with the rock-hard chest, smooth bronze skin and washboard stomach. No wonder women found that kind of man...appealing. She would love to get a load of Tucker’s bare chest.

He looked only a little like his yearbook photos that she’d seen from before he’d left Gilt Edge. She wondered where he’d been, what exactly had kept him away as well as how he’d kept in such great shape and if she would have a chance to see him with his shirt off.

Speculating about his incredible physique kept her mind off how dangerous a game she was playing. Her parents had the right to be worried for her. Still, she had to laugh at where her mind had taken her. She wasn’t immune to a handsome man, but she’d never dated one like Tucker Cahill. She’d always stayed clear of cowboys on the family ranch. The men she’d dated were clones of her father. Like Peter. Men her father would approve of.

She smiled to herself as she thought of what her father would make of Tucker Cahill with his too-long dark hair and those gray eyes fringed with long dark eyelashes, not to mention the chiseled jaw. Wouldn’t her father have a fit if she’d ever brought home someone like him?

Katie opened her overnight bag and frowned. She’d packed what she needed for a short stay. No way had she planned on going on a date. Asking Tucker out had been impulsive, not that she regretted it on any level.

With a sigh, though, she picked up her shoulder bag, leaving the gun behind for this trip. She’d have to walk downtown and see if she could find something to wear tonight. Glancing in the mirror by the door, she took in the jeans, T-shirt and tennis shoes she was wearing. Not exactly date attire. She had planned on doing some exploring at the crime scene—before Tucker had seen her and she’d taken off.

He’d changed her plans. Tonight, though, she would find out just how much he knew before she decided how he was going to help her get what she wanted. Her mother had always encouraged her to dress for success. Tonight she was going to do just that.

* * *

TUCKER’S SISTER, LILLIE, saw him first. She’d been standing at the bar rubbing her protruding stomach. When she spotted him, she dropped her hand, her eyes widening and quickly filling with tears, before she screamed his name.

“Tucker!”

He moved to her to take her in his arms. “Hey, little sis. What happened to you?” he asked with a laugh. “What ya got in there, my nephew or niece?”

Lillie was crying too hard to answer. Tucker looked to his brother Darby, who came around the bar. He stuck out his hand. “Darby, dang, you two are a sight for sore eyes. You’re all grown-up.” They’d been nine when he’d left.

A few regulars at the bar were craning their necks to see what was going on.

“Are you back?” Darby asked.

Tucker nodded. “Sorry it took me so long. I’ll tell you all about it, but I can’t right now. I have a date.”

“A date?” Lillie demanded, finally finding her voice as she pulled back to look at him. “A date your first night home?”

“You sound like Flint.”

“He knows you’re back?”

Tucker laughed, hearing the jealousy in her voice. “I’m staying at the ranch and I haven’t seen Hawk and Cyrus yet, but I had to stop by and see the two of you. We’ll all get together soon and catch up, I promise.”

Lillie wiped her eyes, her hand going to her stomach again. “You haven’t even met my husband, Trask, or Darby’s wife, Mariah, yet. Or Billie Dee.”

“Billie Dee?”

“The best cook in Montana, probably the whole US,” Lillie said adamantly.

He laughed. “I will meet them all. I’ll catch up on everything, but right now I have to run.” He kissed his sister on the cheek and waved to Darby. “It’s so great to see the two of you again.”

“Did Flint tell you a package arrived for you?” Lillie asked.

Tucker had forgotten about it for a while. “He did.” He could see that Lillie was busting at the seams to know what was inside. “It was just somethin’ I sent on ahead of me. No big deal.” She looked disappointed. “No mystery. Sorry.”

But as he left, he couldn’t help but wonder who’d sent the doll and what exactly the message had been.

As he walked to his pickup, though, he saw that he’d gotten a different kind of message. Someone had stuck a folded piece of paper under his driver’s-side windshield wiper.

He looked around before pulling it out. As he opened it, he saw the girlie lettering and felt a chill. He knew it was impossible, but he would have sworn it was Madeline’s handwriting.

It read: You shouldn’t have come back.

* * *

AFTER A QUICK shopping trip downtown, Kate was ready when she got the call that her date was waiting for her downstairs.

Her date? This wasn’t a date. This wasn’t even work. This was about justice, plain and simple. So how did she explain the butterflies? She hadn’t had butterflies the first time she went out with Peter or any other man that she could remember.

So why was she so nervous about going out with Tucker Cahill? She’d met her share of handsome cowboys. What made Tucker Cahill different?

It wasn’t his crooked grin. Or that jolt of current she’d felt when he’d grabbed her arm in front of the hotel and she’d seen him up close for the first time. It was what she’d glimpsed in those gray eyes, a pain she’d recognized heart-deep.

Kate pushed the thought away, telling herself that Tucker Cahill was no different from any other man she’d interviewed for a story. He was merely a source. She would do the job she was damned good at. She’d get the information she needed from him, and if she couldn’t get him to help her, she would have no reason to see him again.

But as the elevator door opened, she saw him and her heart took a roller-coaster-ride dip. In his dress Western attire, he was even more handsome. But it was the look on his face when he saw her that squeezed her heart like a fist. Had any man ever looked at her like that?

She looked away, not surprised to see that several women in the lobby were admiring the cowboy. As she stepped out of the elevator and started toward him, the women gave her an appreciative look—though a little green-eyed.

For a woman who didn’t consider this a date, she’d put her hair up, leaving several dark tendrils to fall free around her face. Never one to wear much makeup, she’d kept it at a minimum, but at the last minute she had added just a touch of coral stain to her lips and two drops of her favorite perfume between her breasts.

The dress she wore was teal and fell over her curves like warm tropical waves. The hem hit just above her knees, calling attention to her long legs and the strappy new heels she’d purchased uptown.

From the widening of Tucker’s gray eyes, it had been effective.

“You look amazing,” he whispered as he leaned toward her. His lips brushed her ear, sending shivers rippling through her. She caught the scent of his cologne, something woodsy, masculine and surprisingly seductive.

She breathed him in, wanting more and feeling bereft when he stepped back, taking his scent with him.

“There’s a restaurant within walking distance of the hotel, if that’s all right,” he said, those gray eyes locking with hers. A woman without her grit could get lost in those eyes.

“Perfect.” She figured she needed the fresh air to clear her head. This was starting to feel dangerously like a real date.

Tucker placed a large, warm hand at the center of her back. The heat burned through the sheer fabric of her dress as he steered her toward the front door. His touch sent a wave of knee-buckling need through her. She took his arm, feeling a little unsteady on her legs as she realized this wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought.

* * *

TUCKER HAD HIS breath taken away at the sight of Kate Rothschild as she came off the elevator. It hit him hard, as it had been a long time since a woman had done that to him.

He reminded himself of what he’d seen her do at the creek. Kate had some connection to Madeline. Add to that the fact this woman was an investigative reporter. He had no idea why she’d done it, but he didn’t think for a moment that she’d suggested dinner because of his charm—or lack thereof.

“Why don’t we cut straight to the chase?” he said once they were seated in the restaurant and had ordered wine. “What does a city slicker investigative reporter and daughter of a Montana congressman have in common with the skeletal remains of a woman found in a creek in Gilt Edge, Montana?”

Kate seemed taken aback by the question. He’d caught her off guard, something he doubted happened often. She smiled and leaned back as the waiter appeared with the bottle of wine and poured them each a glass.

After the waiter left, she said, “You do get right to the point.”

“I’ve found it saves time. So why don’t you tell me what I witnessed down at the creek?”

“I’m not sure what you think you saw,” she began.

“You knew Madeline. And what I saw tells me that you had mixed feelings about her.”

She laughed. “You sure that’s what you saw?”

He met her gaze and held it. “We goin’ to keep playin’ word games? What’s your connection to Madeline Dunn?”

“Dunn? You’re sure that’s her name?”

He saw that she hadn’t known Madeline’s last name any more than he had until earlier. “My brother thinks that might have been her last name. The DNA report hasn’t come back for a positive ID yet.”

She raised a brow and leaned toward him. That she looked beautiful tonight in the candlelight was definitely a distraction. But once you’ve been taken advantage of by one woman, you can’t help but be gun-shy of all of them—especially one who smelled like sunshine after a rain.

“Since you know I work for a newspaper in New York City, maybe I’m doing a freelance story on the case.”

He raised a brow.

“I admit I might have gotten a little emotional down at the creek earlier. It’s a horrible thing for a young woman that age to drown and not be found for so many years.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What other possible reason could I have?” she asked with an innocent twinkle in those big green eyes.

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out tonight.”

“Strange,” she said, her smile tempting him to do more than raise his wineglass to clink against hers. “I was hoping to find out more about you tonight, as well.”

He fought the urge to dive into all that deep sea green and just swim around for a while. As leery as he was of this woman—and with good reason—he was also enjoying himself.

In the years he’d been gone, he hadn’t dated. All his encounters had been in passing. But none of the women he’d met were like this one. That alone put him on guard.

Kate carefully touched her wineglass to his like a quick kiss. “To discovering all kinds of things about each other tonight.”

There was daring in her gaze. He’d never been able to back down from a challenge. He suspected she had the same problem. “To unlocking all your secrets,” he said, making her eyes widen a little before she laughed.

“Okay, cowboy. Why don’t we start with Madeline and why you were on that bridge earlier? Remembering one special night, were you?”

His hand holding the glass jerked, almost spilling his wine. Kate’s smile widened. “Am I moving too fast for you?”

Tucker felt his head swim. “You sent the package.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

WITH TUCKER ON a date tonight, there was no reason Flint couldn’t just enjoy an evening at home with Maggie. He still couldn’t believe that Tucker was back. Back safe and sound. So why was he still worried about him?

Tuck was out with a reporter. That was worry enough. But it was more than that. He remembered what his brother had said about being in love with Madeline Ross aka Madeline Dunn. If that was her name.

The tentative ID the coroner had gotten was based on a dentist’s memory of a woman’s teeth from twenty-three years ago. The woman had paid with a check from Madeline Dunn’s account, but that didn’t mean she was Madeline Dunn.

He’d been in law enforcement long enough to know better than jumping to conclusions until he had the facts. Once they had the DNA, then he could track down the Dunns and see if it was a match. Tucker had said that Madeline had a brother. If they could find him or their father...

But what he didn’t know was worrying him. Not that he believed for a minute that Tuck might have had something to do with the woman’s death. He knew his brother. Well, he’d known the Tucker he’d grown up with, but there were nineteen years that hadn’t been accounted for yet.

Flint shook his head, hating where his thoughts had gone. The woman had jumped, just as Tuck had said. The woman had been trying to con money out of his brother by pretending she was pregnant. Worse, she wanted him to believe that she was willing to kill herself and their baby if he didn’t pay up.

Flint realized that he’d balled up his hands into fists at the thought of Madeline. How would his brother have reacted if he’d found out that night on the bridge that it had all been a huge lie?

“You’re just tired,” he told himself. His day had been filled with phone calls, problems with traffic and two DUIs that Harp had picked up. Most days, there were barking dog complaints, checks on elderly relatives, shoplifting kids and endless paperwork. Sometimes Flint wondered why he’d gotten into law enforcement.

Earlier, before he’d spoken with the coroner, he’d gone through missing-persons reports looking for a woman of about the age of the skeletal remains found in the creek, surprised there was none. He’d called around to the other towns. No missing-persons report on the woman during that time. That seemed strange unless she had no family in the state.

Now he hesitated. Why hadn’t he considered earlier that his brother would be considered a suspect if anyone else was sheriff? It hadn’t crossed his mind because he knew Tucker. Or at least thought he did.

He swore as he glanced over at the package with that damned doll in it. Someone knew Tucker would come back to Gilt Edge. The same person who’d been waiting for Madeline downstream? Or someone with an even darker ulterior motive?

He picked up his phone, dialed 411 and asked the operator for a family with the last name Dunn in Clawson Creek.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m not showing any by that name. Could it be listed under another name or perhaps another town?”

He had no idea. Apparently the Dunns had left Clawson Creek. “That’s all right. Thank you.” Hanging up, he glanced at his watch. He was late and there were leftover barbecued short ribs from lunch that Maggie had promised to heat up for dinner. Mostly, he was anxious to see his wife.

Tracking down the family would have to wait until tomorrow. Another twelve hours wouldn’t make that much of a difference after nineteen years.

* * *

KATE TOOK A sip of her wine, giving herself a moment. She’d let Tucker get to her. This was not the way she’d planned for the night to go. But he’d given her no choice, she told herself. He wanted to cut to the chase? Fine.

She could tell that she’d caught him flat-footed with the package she’d sent, which had been her intention. Just as his had been when he’d called her on why she was interested in the remains from the creek.

“I wasn’t sure the discovery in the creek was enough to bring you home. I thought the package might,” she said.

Tucker blinked, clearly taken aback. “Where did you get...? Why would you send me something like that? How do you know me and that I’ve been gone, let alone know what Madeline put me through?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she said and picked up her menu. “Is the steak good here?”

He leaned over to take the menu from her hand. “If you tell me you were the one working with Madeline—”

“Don’t be absurd,” she said, taking back her menu.

“If all you wanted to do was get my attention, we could have had this discussion on the bridge earlier. Why did you run?”

She lowered her menu. “Maybe I wanted to see if you would chase me, then I would know for sure that I had the right man.”

“The right man? You could have made it easier for both of us by not running,” he said, still eyeing her as if he thought if he looked deep enough, he’d see every truth she’d kept hidden for all these years.

She chuckled at his words, though it lacked the lightness she’d been shooting for. “Now, what fun would that have been if I hadn’t let you chase me down?”

He growled under his breath. “How do you know about Madeline? No more games.”

Kate took another sip of her wine, but from the look in the cowboy’s eyes, he was no longer willing to play along. While she could be flexible when it came to her game plan, she didn’t like it derailed so quickly. Worse, as she looked into Tucker’s eyes... They were silver in the candlelight and beneath the growing anger and frustration, she could still see the pain. It was as raw as her own and yet his had been banked for nearly two decades while hers had grown with each passing year.

It made her more than determined to expose the woman. But in exposing Madeline, she would be exposing the men who’d fallen for her, as well. She hadn’t cared before, but suddenly she didn’t want to hurt this man.

“Madeline,” Tucker repeated, making it clear he wasn’t waiting much longer for an answer.

She could tell he was surprised that she knew about Madeline, knew enough to send the doll. Madeline had always been all about secrecy. It’s how she did business. It’s how she destroyed young men, chewing them up and spitting them out and moving on.

“My brother knew her.” Kate hadn’t planned to tell him that.

Suddenly the waiter appeared to take their orders.

Tucker waved the man away and leaned forward. “Your brother?”

She started to pour herself more wine, but he took the bottle from her, their fingers touching, a brush of warmth against her icy cold hand. He poured her more wine and put down the bottle.

But she didn’t reach for her glass. She could see that he had already put the pieces together. “Clay,” he said. “Clayton Rothschild III.”

She felt her cheeks warm with the anger that was always just below the surface. Her gaze rose to meet Tucker’s. “Madeline killed him just as surely as if she’d been the one to tie the noose around his neck.” Her voice broke and she had to fight tears. No, this was not at all the way she’d planned this so-called date.

“He knew Madeline?” he asked, frowning. “That was about the same time as...” He broke off, shifted his gaze to hers again and held it. “He killed himself because of her?” He was shaking his head. “The package. The only way you could have known...” His gray eyes widened in alarm. “She pulled the same thing on him that she did me with the...baby?”

Kate nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat. She looked away. After all the interviews she’d done since she’d begun her career, she’d never let anyone get to her like this. But sitting across from a man who had known her nemesis...intimately, who knew how she operated, who had been hurt by her almost as deeply as her brother...

Staring into his gray eyes, she thought that maybe there was little difference between this man and her brother. That thought made her angry at both of them. How could they have fallen for such a woman? Tucker had left behind everything for nineteen years—his family, his ranch, his life to that point—because of Madeline. Clay had just taken a more drastic route to run away from what that woman had put him through.

“You want to know where I got the doll?” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears as she tried to rein in her fury without much luck. “It’s the one Madeline sent my brother. At the time, I had no idea what it meant when it was found in the room where Clay...” Her voice broke again. “But I was determined to learn the truth about why my brother killed himself. I was thirteen. My brother was a senior in high school.”

Tucker was staring at her with so much sympathy that she had to look away for fear of breaking down again.

“How did you find out about her?” he asked after a moment.

“My brother. I found a letter he had written her. His suicide note. Unfortunately, when I went searching for her, I realized that Madeline Ross never existed. She’d lied about who she was, no big surprise.”

“Still, how could you know that the woman from the creek—”

“Clay said in the letter that he knew there was another man Madeline was seeing. A cowboy who lived in Gilt Edge with the last name Cahill. It didn’t take much to put it together in the years since. At first I thought it might be your brother Flint. But when you took off suddenly, I figured you’d run away with her. That maybe the two of you had been in it together.” She met his gaze. “Until I heard about the skeletal remains found in the creek near your ranch.”

“So you sent the package to me.”

“I’d hoped you were in contact with your family and that the package would get you home. I wasn’t sure the remains were Madeline’s let alone that you would return.”

He looked shocked.

“I figured if you were the other man my brother had written about, then the doll might resonate with you.”

Tucker let out a bark of laugh. “Oh, it resonated, all right. I’ve believed for nineteen years that I was the reason she killed herself and our son.”

She shook her head. “How could you let her fool you like that?”

“I wish I knew. So you’ve known about me and Madeline for—”

“Years. That’s how long I’ve been looking for you. You did a good job of hiding. Does your brother the sheriff know that you haven’t been going by Tucker Cahill all this time?”

Tucker was staring at her again. “I see what you meant about the two of us having a lot in common. And what exactly were you going to do when you found me?”

She shook her head, unable to speak for a moment around the lump in her throat. “It was Madeline I wanted. If you were with her... But when the bones were found, I had a feeling you’d be coming back alone.”

They both fell silent for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” he said. “I had no idea there were...others.”

“Yes, except with my brother Madeline obviously survived her leap into the river to be saved by whoever she was working with and continued to blackmail Clay until he couldn’t take the guilt anymore.”

“It wasn’t just the guilt. I would imagine he thought he loved her.”

Kate ground her teeth. “That makes it even worse.” She’d never understood how her brother could have taken his own life. “She was that good?”

“When you’re seventeen... But yes, she was good at making an inexperienced teenager fall for her.”

She felt all the anger leak from her like a pinprick to a tire. It left her simply tired and, again, close to tears. Not even her parents knew everything about Madeline. It felt good to finally say what had been bottled up inside her to someone who’d known the woman.

“There’s another reason I wanted to find you,” Kate said. “I need to know everything about Madeline so I can find her accomplice.”

The waiter tentatively came back to the table. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“No, it’s fine. Are you ready to order?” Tucker asked her.

She nodded. For the first time since her brother had died, she didn’t feel that hard knot in her chest. Finally, she would avenge his death. Tucker Cahill didn’t know it yet, but he was going to help her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

BILLIE DEE COULDN’T quit thinking about Henry’s proposal. She was deep in thought when Darby came into the kitchen the next morning.

“Can I make you some breakfast?” she asked, happy to see him. She was dreading the day when Mariah gave birth and the two of them moved out of the upstairs apartment. While she knew it was selfish, she liked knowing they were up there when she came in early in the morning to start the day’s cooking.

“Thanks, but no breakfast today. I have some waitstaff interviews this morning. With summer and the busiest time of the year coming up, I need more help. Mariah is going to be busy nesting, same with Lillie. You thought any more about the apartment upstairs? No,” he said with a laugh. “Of course you wouldn’t want to move in up there, not with—”

Just then Mariah came down the stairs, her huge belly leading the way. Billie Dee put a finger to her lips. Mariah and Darby’s twin sister, Lillie, were best friends and told each other everything.

He nodded and went to help his wife down the last few steps before the two went to the front of the saloon to get ready to interview candidates before opening for the day.

Billie Dee turned back to her cooking. She liked to cook what she knew. And what she knew was Tex-Mex with a side of Cajun. Which in this part of the country seemed exotic—and often too spicy. Since she’d gone to work here, she’d introduced this part of Montana to her brand of cooking and this morning she was making up a batch of her famous chili.

When she heard more voices at the front of the old stage stop, she peered down the hall to see the candidates for the job.

Her breath caught. She had to grab the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen table for support. That face. She’d been looking for it in every young woman she passed for the past twenty-six years—terrified she’d see it and terrified she wouldn’t.

The young woman looked up, her eyes a startling blue that rivaled even the Montana sky. And that face... But there was no recognition in the young woman’s gaze.

The woman looked away and Billie Dee felt as if someone had just stomped on her heart.

* * *

TUCKER WAS HAULED out of his dream by his cell phone chime. Without opening his eyes, he reached over to shut off the phone, surprised it was morning. He didn’t want to wake up. He could still feel the night on his bare skin as he clung to the erotic dream he’d been having.

Almost midnight, the Montana sky ablaze with stars. Hot water bubbled up from deep in the earth to pool in the middle of the large boulders as a small waterfall washed over the rocks like a lullaby.

He lay naked in the water waiting for her. He knew she could come to him in this isolated place. The natural hot spring was surrounded by mountain ranges, deep purple against the skyline. It was their special place. He could hear the faint tinkling of her silver anklet as it dangled from her ankle. Other than the anklet, the only other thing she wore was a large straw hat that hid her face. Strange, since there was only moonlight.

Her hair was tucked up under the hat as she padded barefoot toward him and the tantalizing pool. She had just reached the edge, stuck in one perfectly pedicured toe and reached to take off her hat...

His cell phone rang again. Cursing, he opened his eyes and picked up the phone to see who was calling at this hour. When he saw it was Flint, he answered, “What?”

“I guess I don’t have to ask how your date was last night.”

He could feel the dream slipping away. Worse, he’d glimpsed the face under the hat and... It hadn’t been Madeline’s. It was Kate’s. The dream dissolved into a feeling of frustration. Kate?

“There a reason you called?”

“I forgot you’ve never been a morning person,” Flint said. “If you get a chance, stop by my office.”

He sat up a little. “Has something happened?”

“No, I just wanted to ask you more questions about Madeline.”

“Madeline?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed as he tried to clear his head. “I told you everything I know about her.”

“I talked to the sheriff up in Judith Basin County. He says the Dunns cleared out about twenty years ago and, as far as he knows, haven’t been seen since. It was before his time, but he said they were an odd family. Said there were an older brother and some sisters. Stayed to themselves in some big old house outside town. As far as he knew, there wasn’t anyone living there anymore. Could take time to track them down, if any of them are still around.”

A dead end. Clawson Creek? It wasn’t that far from Denton where he’d first met Madeline. He thought about what Kate had said about finding Madeline’s accomplice.

“I don’t mean to bring up bad memories,” Flint said. “I just want to tie up what loose ends I can and put it all to rest. You have to quit blaming yourself for her death, though. It was an accident, one she brought on herself.”

Tucker nodded. So why did he still feel guilty? Nor did it feel as if it was over. “What about the person who hid her body downstream?”

“Because the death was an accident, the person who hid the body would have been facing only misdemeanor charges for the improper disposal of a corpse. Since the statute of limitations has run out...”

“So you aren’t going to pursue this? You aren’t even going to look for whoever was helping Madeline?”

“I can’t see using manpower when no charges could be filed, anyway.”

He thought of Kate and that darned dream came back with her standing naked in the mist at the edge of the pool. He frowned as he remembered the tinkle of the ankle bracelet in his dream.

“Did your deputies find any jewelry at the scene?”

“No, why?”

“Maybe a little silver ankle bracelet with tiny bells on it. I believe Madeline was wearing it that night.” He sounded lame even to himself. The woman in the dream who’d been Madeline up until that last minute had been wearing a silver ankle bracelet with little bells on it. Until this moment, he’d forgotten about the bracelet he’d bought her.

“I’ll send Harp back out there. Will give him something to do.”

“Who’s Harp?” Tucker asked, still distracted.

“Harper Cole. Mayor’s son and a deputy I inherited. While he’s doing better at the job, he has a pregnant wife he calls every few hours to make sure she’s all right.”

“And that’s a bad thing, him checking on his wife?”

Flint groaned. “You have to know Harp. He tends to overdo everything. So putting him on creek dirt duty will at least give all of us a break,” his brother said with a laugh. “What do you have planned today?”

Tucker glanced at the clock, cringing at how early it was. “Going back to sleep.”

“Sorry for waking you up.”

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