Secrets and seduction thrive in Montana in this thrilling new novella from New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels

Billie Dee Rhodes moved to Gilt Edge, Montana, from Texas in search of a new start, and she found it in a cook-wanted sign in the window of the Stagecoach Saloon. She jokes that she’s looking for a cowboy and love, and when it walks in the door in the form of retired rancher Henry Larson, she gets more than she bargained for. But when Billie Dee’s past starts catching up with her and Henry proves to have secrets of his own, has love come too late?

Cowboy’s Reckoning

B.J. Daniels

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Author Note

Every once in a while a character comes along that I fall completely in love with. That would be Billie Dee Rhodes, a cheery, plump, free-spirited, charming cook from Texas who goes to work at the Stagecoach Saloon in Gilt Edge, Montana.

On the surface, it seems that Billie Dee doesn’t have a care in the world. She is always singing, always smiling, always cooking. She is determined to introduce Montanans to some spicy Tex-Mex and enjoy what life she has left, because Billie Dee has a dangerous past.

She jokes that she came to Montana to find a cowboy. But at her age, she thinks love has passed her by. Little does she know that not only is her dangerous past about to catch up with her—that future with a big, strong, handsome cowboy could be closer than she thinks. If she can just stay alive long enough.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Title Page

Author Note

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“BILLIE DEE?”

The back door of the Stagecoach Saloon swung open. Henry Larson stuck his head in, bringing in a gust of autumn-scented mountain air.

The sound of his voice buoying her spirits, Billie Dee turned from where she had a pot of Texas shrimp gumbo going to wave the cowboy in. She watched as Henry removed his Stetson and wiped his feet before settling his gaze on her.

The bigger-than-life cowboy made her smile with his ah-shucks-ma’am shyness. He often stopped by this time of the day for a cup of coffee and a visit. She looked forward to seeing him. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Henry had a crush on her.

“Pull up a chair,” she told him as he looked around for a place to put his hat and finally rested it on one knee as he took a seat at the table.

She turned down the gumbo before pouring him a cup of coffee and one for herself. Taking the full cups over, she set them down and then hung up his hat on the hook by the door. As she lowered herself into a chair across from him, she breathed in the warm, rich smells of the kitchen, along with Henry’s fresh-from-the-shower scent. It surprised her how much she’d come to love both.

Gilt Edge, Montana, seemed at the end of the earth when she’d driven her old car through town. She’d planned to keep right on going, no place in mind up the road, just making the best of this autumn part of her life as she could.

But as she was leaving, she’d spotted an old stone building with the sign Stagecoach Saloon and Café. Something about the place had drawn her. She’d pulled in and shut off her loud, complaining car engine, thinking she’d have lunch then get on her way.

That was when she saw the sign in the window. She’d laughed since she’d been looking for a sign of where she should light—at least for a while. The sign in the old stagecoach window wasn’t the kind of sign she’d been expecting.

But there she was, outside of an old mining town in Montana, looking at a sign that read Cook Wanted. She didn’t know what could be much clearer than that. She’d hired on and stayed.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Henry said and pushed the sugar bowl over to her.

She smiled as she put four spoonfuls into her coffee, added a little cream and stirred. “It’s what makes me so sweet,” she’d joked the first time he’d raised an eyebrow.

Like now, he only smiled. Henry took his coffee black, saying he was a simple man and sweet enough. She thought he was right about that.

He watched her until she’d finished stirring before he picked up his own cup and took a sip. He was a big rugged man, with broad shoulders and long legs. Henry had a chiseled, handsome face and twinkling blue eyes. His dark hair was still thick, but there was gray at his temples. Billie Dee figured they were about the same age. Her own hair was fiery red. It went with her temper, she’d always say, though no one believed it because of her usual easygoing disposition.

But then, no one around here had ever seen her mad. She hoped they never did. It was a side of her she kept hidden, just like her past.

Henry put down his cup. “You weren’t singing this morning,” he said, eyeing her closely. “Usually I can hear you the moment I pull in at the back. I was worried.” He had the most intense blue eyes she’d ever seen. “Everything all right?”

His question surprised her. Usually they talked about the weather or the price of beef or what she was cooking that day for the café. 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.

“Do I sing that much?” Half the time she didn’t even realize she’d burst into song. Must have been all those years singing in church growing up. She still loved hymns.

“I like your singing,” he said shyly. “You have a wonderful voice. When you don’t sing, it worries me because I know something is wrong.”

She gave an embarrassed laugh and took a drink of her coffee, avoiding Henry’s gaze. She’d never taken compliments well, but maybe especially from this cowboy. The first time she’d met him, he’d come back to the kitchen to compliment her on her chili. Like today, he’d been dressed in clean boots, jeans, a canvas jacket and a Stetson. He’d told her he was a retired rancher.

He had a confident air about him that she’d liked from the first. She’d warmed to him, just the way she’d warmed to this place, to this job and to the family that came with it.

“I love this warm fall weather, but I heard it’s about to change. I’m not sure I’m ready for winter. What about you?” she asked, changing the subject. Henry had sensed something off about her, sensed it because normally she sang while she cooked. Except this morning. Was she worried about something? Yes. But should she be? Maybe it was nothing.

Henry smiled almost sadly. She hadn’t fooled him in her attempt to change the subject. But he was too polite to call her on it. “Your gumbo smells delicious. You mentioned green chilies the other day. My daughter, who lives in New Mexico, said she would send you as many as you would like. Just let me know.”

“Thank you.” Normally the thought of fresh green chilies would have made her day. But Henry was right. She wasn’t herself today. And it was silly. So she’d spotted some man standing in the shadows last night across from her small house she rented. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him. It had just been the way he was standing there in the dark before he moved away, but she could tell that he’d been watching her house. It probably meant nothing.

Henry finished his coffee. “I should let you get back to work,” he said, rising.

“I’m glad you stopped by.” She hadn’t meant it more than she did today. She looked forward to his visits although she often wondered if he wanted more than coffee. Or if she did?

Henry was just lonely, she told herself. Along with the daughter in New Mexico, he had two sons, who ran the ranch now. He’d lost his wife five years ago, his three children were raised and he was retired. He was probably just at loose ends and she was a distraction for a while in the mornings.

“It is always good to see you,” he said now as he took his Stetson from the hook and settled it on his thick head of hair. That he was handsome for his age was an understatement. She often wondered why some local woman hadn’t snatched him up already. Or was he just not interested in another relationship? Sometimes—like at the moment—the way he looked at her stirred up old passions that she’d channeled into her cooking.

“Enjoy your day,” she said around the lump in her throat. Sometimes she wanted to just flat out ask him what he wanted from her. But she was afraid he only needed coffee and a little conversation.

“You too, Billie Dee.” He hesitated at the door, turning back to give her a look that sent her heart racing. “If you ever need...anything, I hope you know that I’m here. All you have to do is ask.” With that he opened the door and left, leaving her feeling shaken. Henry Larson seemed to know her better than she knew herself. And that scared her, especially given what she was hiding.

CHAPTER TWO

STAGECOACH SALOON CO-OWNER Lillie Cahill Beaumont came through the back door of the business minutes later in a flurry of shopping bags and excited movement.

“Is Mariah up yet?” Lillie asked, glancing toward the stairs that led to the upstairs apartment where her twin brother and sister-in-law resided. She rushed on in, dropping the shopping bags on the kitchen table. “Billie Dee, you have to see the baby clothes I picked up in Billings yesterday!”

“Haven’t seen Mariah or Darby yet this morning,” Billie Dee said as she took her cup and Henry’s over to the sink. “Can I get you some decaffeinated coffee?”

Lillie made a face as she put a hand over her baby bump. “I’d rather not drink coffee at all if I have to drink that stuff. Thanks, but I’m fine.”

Rinsing her hands and drying them, Billie Dee stepped over to the table to see what Lillie had bought for the baby she was carrying.

Always a beauty with her dark hair and gray eyes, Lillie Cahill Beaumont now glowed. She’d married her childhood sweetheart and was now pregnant with their first child. But Billie Dee suspected what made Lillie even happier was having her fraternal twin, Darby, married to a woman she called the sister she’d always wanted.

At the sound of footfalls on the stairs, the apartment door opened and Darby and Mariah came into the kitchen. Mariah and Lillie could have been twins, except for Mariah’s dark eyes. They had matching baby bumps and the same healthy in-love and pregnant glow.

“Did I hear you bought more baby clothes?” Mariah cried. “Without me?” She rushed to the table to see what her sister-in-law had in the bags.

Darby stepped over to Billie Dee to take a whiff of what she had cooking. “I thought I smelled Texas shrimp gumbo,” he said with a laugh. “I know it’s early, but—”

“Let me get you a bowl,” she said, smiling. Like all of the Cahill sons, Darby was one handsome cowboy. He’d left the ranch, though, determined to find his own way in life, and opened the saloon and café with his twin. As far as Billie Dee could tell, the business was a huge success.

She listened to the chatter at the table as Darby ate and the young women oohed and aahed over Lillie’s haul. As Lillie held up outfits for her comment, Billie Dee made the appropriate sounds, but her thoughts kept returning to Henry and his last words.

“So what is everyone doing up so early this morning?” she asked Darby when he came back over to the stove for more gumbo.

“Family meeting.” He rolled his eyes. “Ely again.”

Ely was their father, a former rancher turned mountain man, who spent most of the year tromping around in the woods trapping and panning for gold. He became a problem when he came down to civilization and tied one on at the bar. Which often led to him ending up in the local jail, where his son Flint Cahill just happened to be sheriff.

As if on cue, the back door opened and Ely came in, followed by the sheriff and two other brothers, Hawk and Cyrus. With a full gray beard and light gray eyes, Ely looked like a wild man. But there was always a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He’d had a heart attack recently—she was sure that was why his children were worried about him. That and the drinking and carousing and that other alleged misfortune. Ely Cahill had become the local nutcase after claiming to have been abducted by aliens back in the 1960s.

After a quick hello to everyone in the kitchen, Flint herded all but Darby toward the saloon. As Darby came over to rinse out his bowl and spoon and put them in the dishwasher, Billie Dee took the moment to ask, “I need to run a couple of errands. I’ll leave the gumbo simmering if you wouldn’t mind checking it. I won’t be long.”

“Take as long as you need,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “The gumbo will give me an excuse to cut this family meeting short.” He gave her a wink and headed for the front of the building and the saloon.

Billie Dee watched him go, her eyes misting over. It often surprised her how much she’d become attached to this family—even as hard as she’d tried not to.

Since last night, she hadn’t been able to shake the uneasy feeling after seeing the man across the street. She knew that must have been what Henry had picked up on. She’d been trying to forget about it all morning—obviously without much luck.

Grabbing her purse, she went out the back door to her old car. But she didn’t start it right away. Instead, she checked her messages. Her heart leaped to her throat. Just as she’d feared, there was the cryptic text that she’d prayed to never see again.

With trembling fingers, she punched in the number. The phone went straight to voice mail. No surprise there. She left a succinct message. “It’s Billie Dee.”

Pocketing her phone, she started the engine, grimacing at how loud it was. It was a miracle that the car was still going. It now used more oil than gas, but she was determined to ride it out until the thing finally gave up the ghost. The Cahill men were just as determined to either help her get a new car or at least see that she put in a new engine.

She thought of the text she’d received. She wouldn’t be needing a new car. Tears burned her eyes. She wiped at them angrily. She shouldn’t have gotten so attached to this place, to this family, to being happy here, she told herself as she drove down the road. She hadn’t gone far when her cell phone rang. Glancing at the number, she pulled over in a wide spot, hit Accept and said, “Tell me Gary Barnes is still behind bars.”

* * *

HENRY LARSON WAS saddling up his horse when his son found him in the barn.

Tom was the spitting image of his father at thirty. Dark-haired with expressive blue eyes, he had his share of women coming around. Henry often wondered if any of his children would marry. It made him worry that he and Laurie hadn’t done a very good job if their children didn’t want someone to share their life with as they had done.

Tom was all cowboy and often said he wasn’t ready to be lassoed, let alone hog-tied. “Where you riding to?” his son asked.

“Just up into the mountains. Thought I’d take advantage of the nice weather.” Henry loved the smell of the fallen aspen leaves mixed with that of the pines. True, he liked to take advantage of a nice day this time of year to ride. But he didn’t think he was fooling his son. He had a lot on his mind.

“Heard you were down at the Stagecoach again this morning,” Tom said.

He didn’t know how his son had found out about his visits to Billie Dee. Nor could he explain why sitting in her warm kitchen had become so central to his well-being. But it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about yet with his sons or his daughter. It was why he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone. He didn’t want to spoil it by having to put a name to his feelings when it came to Billie Dee.

The Texas cook was nothing like his deceased wife. Maybe that was the attraction. Laurie had been tiny, soft-spoken, timid and, if he was truthful, needy. She’d leaned on him from the very first and had died in his arms.

But that was five years ago. He’d mourned her loss and still did. Although he couldn’t say he missed her. They’d grown apart before the end, having little in common except for their children. Had his sons and daughter seen that? Was that why none of them had had serious relationships?

Laurie had never cared about ranching or horses or the outdoors, all things that were his life. She took care of the house, made sure everyone got fed and had her friends she lunched with each week. Their lives together had been...structured, comfortable, uneventful. He knew men who would have loved a life like that.

Maybe that was what had drawn him to Billie Dee. In her, he sensed...chaos, surprises, adventure. He smiled at that now as he swung up onto his horse and headed for the mountains behind the ranch house. It sounded crazy, but the first time he’d met Billie Dee, he felt as if his life had been on a set course that had thrown the two of them together at this age. He thought of it as a second chance at happiness.

And yet he hadn’t taken that chance yet. He knew what was holding him back. He reminded himself that he used to be fearless. He still was, he assured himself. He was still a virile man and still up for that second chance with a woman who made him smile.

As he rode out into the beautiful fall day, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He was going to have to tell her. But he worried that it could go badly. The thought of not getting to see her most mornings... So much for being fearless.

* * *

STATIC ON THE phone connection. Billie Dee was about to repeat herself when he finally spoke.

“I thought maybe we could start with hello, how are you,” the man on the other end of the line said. He’d gone on the defense, making her stomach knot. She’d been here before, so she knew the drill.

“You didn’t answer my question. You contacted me. I’m betting it wasn’t to make small talk. Tell me about Barnes. What’s going on?”

US marshal Alex Jordan sighed. “Barnes pulled some legal magic. He won his appeal.”

Her heart pounded so loud in her ears that she could barely hear herself think. “He’s out?”

“One of the arresting officers screwed up. He got off on a technicality.”

“When did he get out?”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, but—”

“When did he get out?” Her voice had risen dangerously high. She was trying to hold it together, but he was making it hard.

“Today.”

“Today? And you are just now telling me about this?”

“We had a tail on him, but—”

“But he got away.” She groaned.

“You should come in,” Alex said.

Billie Dee could barely breathe. Her thoughts were spiraling. “Not happening.”

“The only way we can protect you is if you come in.”

“There was a man watching my house last night.” She blurted it out.

“Did you get a look at him?”

“No.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t Barnes. He only got out today and you’re far enough away that he shouldn’t be able to get to you very fast—if he even comes after you.”

So they knew where she was. And she’d thought she was being so smart by not going into the WITSEC program. They’d still been tracking her.

Billie Dee wanted to scream. “You promised me that he would never be on the streets again after I testified against him.”

“I know.”

She thought of the man she’d seen watching her house. Not Barnes. But then who? Barnes had snitched on so many of his former associates, she doubted it would be one of them.

“We don’t think he’ll chance going back inside by coming after you. We can’t know what Barnes is thinking, but—”

She almost hung up, she was so furious. “What he’s thinking?” Her laugh made her chest hurt. “He’s thinking how easy it will be to find me. Someone already knows or there wouldn’t be a man watching my house.”

“It could be a US marshal. I didn’t send one, but there was talk among one of my bosses of trying to provide some protection for you.”

“If the man is a US marshal, then he is only here waiting for Barnes to kill me so you can arrest him again. And you wanted me to stay in the witness protection program? Ever find that leak in your department?”

“There isn’t a leak.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“We have thousands of people in WITSEC who are still safe. You chose to go it alone and still the department hasn’t forgotten about you. Like I said, someone higher up could have sent a marshal because they didn’t want you to worry.”

“Not worry, Alex? You’re letting loose a psychopathic killer who wants me dead and you think I’m not worried?”

“Look, if you come in—”

“You almost got me killed last time at one of your safe houses.”

“Billie Dee, that was unfortunate, but—”

“No.” She shook her head and looked out at the Montana landscape. She’d come to love this valley surrounded by four mountain ranges. She’d come to love her life here. She didn’t want to leave.

“We can relocate you, give you another name—”

“No. I tried it your way.”

“What are you going to do?” he demanded.

“None of your business.” She disconnected, wishing she hadn’t called. Hadn’t she known last night that something was wrong? She had no doubt that Barnes would find her. He had gotten out today. Could he already be on his way to Montana?

So maybe it was a US marshal watching out for her. That should have relieved her mind, but it didn’t. She knew Barnes. She’d looked into his eyes the second time he’d tried to kill her. He’d told her then that he would kill her no matter what it took. He would come for her—only this time he would succeed.

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