by B. J Daniels
“Anyone else want a beer besides me?” Hank asked as he went straight to the kitchen. His father declined as he took a seat in the living area. Frankie could have used something stronger, but she declined a beer as well. She felt as if she needed to keep her wits about her as she sat down on the couch.
“You want to tell me what that was about on the highway?” Hud said quietly to Frankie since he’d already heard Hank’s version.
“An old boyfriend who won’t take no for an answer,” she said. “He’s a cop in Lost Creek, where I live. He tracked me here.”
The marshal nodded. “He going to be a problem?”
She swallowed. “I hope not.”
Hank came back into the room carrying a bottle of beer, half of it already gone. “If he comes back here—”
“You call me,” Hud interrupted. “You call me and let me handle it. I mean it.”
Hank said nothing, his face a mask of stubborn determination mixed with anger. She couldn’t tell how much of it was anger at her for not telling him or wanting to handle it herself or being frustrated by the J.J. situation as well as the two of them and where they’d been headed earlier.
The marshal cleared his voice. “We found the truck that ran you off the road. It’s an old one that’s been parked up at an abandoned cabin. Lab techs are checking for prints, but they’re not hopeful. Anyone who knew about the truck could have used it. I’m surprised the thing still runs. Anyway, the paint matched as well as the damage to the right side.”
“So it was someone local,” Hank said. He looked at Frankie and saw her relief that it hadn’t had anything to do with her and J.J. The woman had so many secrets. He thought of Naomi and cursed under his breath. Except Naomi had been needy. Frankie was determined to handle everything herself. He shook his head at her and turned back to his father.
“That makes sense given what we’ve learned about Naomi’s death,” he said and looked to Frankie again to see if she wanted to be the one to tell him. She gave him a slight nod to continue.
She was on the couch, her legs curled under her with one of Hank’s grandmother’s quilts wrapped around her. He could tell that her run-in with her former fiancé had rattled her more than she’d wanted him to see.
He was still angry and had a bad feeling that J.J. might come to the ranch next time looking for her. He’d obviously tracked her as far as the main entrance. How crazy was the cop? Wasn’t it enough that they had drug dealers wanting to kill them?
“Naomi found a bag of money,” Hank began and told his father what Frankie had found out about Naomi’s final phone call to an old boyfriend saying she was being followed and asking him what she should do. Give what money she had left back? “And then apparently her phone went dead or she turned it off.”
Hud swore under his breath. “Drug money?”
“That’s the assumption.”
“Did this old boyfriend, whose name I’m going to need, did he say where she’d found it?” He looked to Frankie. She shook her head. “And you knew nothing about this?” he said, turning back to Hank.
“Nothing.” He chewed at his cheek for a moment, trying to hold back his hurt and anger, realizing that he was more angry at Naomi than Frankie, though both had kept things from him. He was aware of the distinction between the two. Naomi was his girlfriend, the woman he’d planned to marry. Frankie... He looked over at her. She was a hell of a lot more than his employee—that much he knew. “Apparently Naomi didn’t trust me. Must be something about me that women don’t trust.”
Frankie groaned and shook her head. “Let’s leave you and me out of this.”
He saw his father following the conversation between them with interest for a moment before getting back to Naomi and the drug money.
“If she had told you, I hope you would have been smart enough to come to me. Wouldn’t you?”
Hank nodded. “I certainly wouldn’t have let her keep the money, which I’m sure is why she didn’t tell me.”
“So the two of you have been digging around in Naomi’s death,” Hud said after a moment. Hank glanced over at Frankie and considered telling his father about his arrangement with the PI. But he had a feeling his father already knew. Anyway, their arrangement was beside the point.
“Tamara must have at least suspected who the drug dealers were,” Hank said.
“And contacted them to let them know that we were asking questions,” the marshal said.
“Would explain how we ended up in the river.”
“I’m pretty sure she was involved.” They both looked over at Frankie, surprised that she’d spoken.
“You talked to Tamara,” Hud said. “Did you get the feeling she knew more than she was telling you?”
“She hinted that Naomi was wilder than anyone knew, that she had secrets and lived a double life. But from what Hank had told me about her,” Frankie continued, “I had the feeling Tamara was talking about herself.”
“Well, whatever she knew, she is no longer talking,” the marshal said. “And the two of you...” He took a breath and let it out. “I wish you’d been honest with me about what you were doing.”
“You didn’t believe that Naomi had been murdered,” Hank pointed out, feeling his hackles rise a little.
“I know, and I’m sorry about that. You were right. I was wrong. But now you have to let me handle this. I need you both to promise that you’re done investigating.”
“I promise,” Hank said, looking at Frankie.
“Fine,” she said. “If that’s what you want,” she said to him, rather than the marshal.
“Do you have some suspects?” Hank asked.
“I hear things,” his father said. “The problem is getting evidence to convict them. Are there drugs being distributed in Big Sky? Maybe even more than in other places in Montana just because of the amount of money here.” He rose to leave. “I’m expecting you both to keep your promise. Otherwise, I’m going to lock you up. I’m tempted to anyway, just to keep you both safe. As much as I hate to say this, it might be a good idea for the two of you to go back home to Idaho. At least for a while.”
Hank looked at Frankie. “We’ll leave in the morning.”
“After breakfast. Your mother will be upset enough, but at least have one more meal with her before you take off,” Hud said and met Hank’s gaze. “You might want to tell your mother the truth. I don’t want her planning a wedding just yet.”
Hank walked his father out. “Dad, that car earlier? It was Frankie’s former fiancé. She broke up with him two months ago but he’s continued to stalk her. He’s a cop from Lost Creek.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for him.”
“Thanks.” He felt his father’s gaze on him and seemed about to say something but must have changed his mind.
“See you at breakfast,” Hud said, turned and left.
* * *
FRANKIE FELT AS if her heart would break. She felt ashamed. She should have known better with J.J. She’d ignored all the red flags. It made her more ashamed when she remembered how she’d given Hank grief for ignoring the obvious signs with Naomi. She prided herself on reading people, on seeing behind their masks, on using those skills to do her job.
But when it came to her own personal life? She’d failed miserably. It didn’t matter that J.J. had hidden his real self from her. She still should have seen behind the facade. Now she couldn’t get away from him. He must have tracked her phone. How else could he have found her? At least he hadn’t tried to kill them in that old truck that forced them into the river. She could be thankful for that.
Throwing off the quilt, she headed for the shower, feeling dirty and sick to her stomach. She’d never wanted Hank to know about J.J., let alone have the two meet. After turning on the shower, she stepped under the warm spray and reached for the body gel to scrub away her shame and embarrassment.
&n
bsp; Tomorrow she and Hank would go back to Idaho. She hated leaving anything unfinished. She’d at least found out why Naomi Hill had died. But she had no idea who might be behind the murder. As she tilted her face up to the water, she remembered the man sitting at the end of the bar the day she went to talk to Tamara. He’d been acting like he wasn’t paying them any attention, but he’d probably been listening to their conversation. Also, Tamara had gone down the bar and the two had been whispering. What if he was—
The shower door opened, making her spin around in surprise, all thoughts suddenly gone as she looked into Hank’s baby-blue eyes. “Mind if I join you?”
She stepped back and watched as he climbed in still dressed in everything but his boots. “You don’t want to take off your clothes?”
“Not yet,” he said as he closed the shower door behind them and turned to take her in. “Damn, woman, you are so beautiful.”
“I’m so sorry that you had to find out about J.J.,” she said, close to tears. “He’s the big mistake of my life and I’m so ashamed for getting involved with such a loser.”
He touched his finger to her lips and shook his head. “We all make mistakes. Look at me and Naomi. But you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to let J.J. hurt you ever again. I promise.”
“I don’t want you—”
“Involved? Once I take off my clothes and get naked with you? We’ll be in this together, you understand?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, but could only nod.
He slowly began to unsnap his Western shirt.
“I think you’d better let me help you with that,” she said, grabbing each side of the shirt and pulling. As the shirt fabric parted, revealing his muscled, tanned chest, she ached to touch him. As he drew her to him, she pushed her palms against the warmth of his flesh and leaned back for his kiss.
“Last chance,” Hank said as he ended the kiss and reached for the buttons of his jeans. “There won’t be any going back once these babies come off.”
She laughed and pushed his hands away to unbutton his jeans and let them drop to the floor of the shower along with his underwear and his socks. She looked at his amazing body—and his obvious desire—and returned her gaze to his handsome face. “No going back,” she said as she stepped into his arms again and molded her warm, wet body to his.
* * *
HANK KISSED HER passionately as he backed her up against the tiled wall of the shower, before his mouth dropped to her round, full breasts. Her nipples were dark and hard, the spray dripping off the tips temptingly. He bent his head to lick off a droplet before taking the erect nipple into his mouth and sucking it.
Frankie leaned her head back, arching her body against his mouth, a groan of pleasure escaping her lips. He took the other nipple in his mouth as his hand dropped down her belly and between her legs. He felt her go weak as his fingers found the spot that made her tremble. She clung to him as he made slow circles until she cried out and fell into his arms again.
He reached around to turn off the water and opened the shower door. After grabbing several large white bath towels from the hooks, he tied one around his waist and wrapped Frankie in the other. Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her toward his bedroom. His heart pounded. He meant what he’d told her. They were now in this together. No more secrets.
She looped her arms around his neck and leaned her face into the hollow of his shoulder as he kicked open the door to the bedroom, stalked in and, still holding her, kissed her, teasing her lips open with his tongue. The tip of her tongue met his and he moaned as he laid her on the bed.
She grabbed him and pulled him down with her. “I want you, Hank Savage,” she said, the words like a blaze she’d just lit in his veins. “Oh, how I want you.”
* * *
MUCH LATER THEY lay in each other’s arms, Frankie feeling as if she was floating on a cloud. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy, this content. But there was another emotion floating on the surface with her. She had trouble recognizing it for a moment because it was so new to her. Joy.
It made her feel as if everything was going to be all right. She usually wasn’t so optimistic. She was too rational for that. But in Hank’s arms, she believed in all the fairy tales. She even believed in true love, although she knew it was too early to be thinking this way. Look at the mistake she’d made with J.J. Six months hadn’t been long enough to date him before getting engaged.
She looked over at Hank. And here she was curled up in bed with a man she’d only known for days.
“Are you all right?” he asked as she sat up to sit on the edge of the bed.
The reality of it had hit her hard. “I was just thinking this might be too fast.”
He caressed her bare back. “I can understand why you’re scared, but is that what your heart tells you?”
Gripping the sheet to her chest, she turned to look at him. She knew only too well what her heart was telling her. She just wasn’t sure she could trust it right now.
Finding safer ground, she said, “I remembered something when I was in the shower—before you joined me. The man sitting at the bar. He was more than a regular. He and Tamara...they had a connection. I’m sure of it and it wasn’t romantic. He had to overhear our conversation, which could mean...that if he was involved in the drug distribution and Tamara knew about it or was involved, he could have ordered the driver of that truck to either scare us or kill us.”
“You’re purposely avoiding the question.”
Frankie gave him an impatient look. “Sandy blond, about your height, a little chunkier.” That made him raise a brow. “You know what I mean.”
Hank stopped her. “I know who you’re talking about. I know exactly who you’re talking about. I went to school with him. Darrel Sanders. He has a snow removal business in the winter. I have no idea what he does in the summer.” He reached for his phone and realized the late hour. “I’d better wait and tell Dad at breakfast.”
He drew her back onto the bed, turning her to spoon against her. “We can take all the time you want,” he whispered into her ear, sending a shiver through her. “I’ll wait.”
She pressed her body against his in answer and felt his desire stir again. Chuckling, she turned in his arms to kiss him. He deepened the kiss and rolled her over until she was on top of him.
Frankie looked into his blue eyes and felt so much emotion that it hurt. Too fast or not, she was falling hard for this cowboy.
Chapter Seventeen
Dana noticed right away that there was something different about her son and Frankie. She shot a look at Hud. He shrugged, but as he took his seat at the breakfast table, she saw him hide a knowing grin. She knew that grin.
“So, how are you two this morning?” she asked, looking first at her son, then Frankie.
“Great,” they both said in unison and laughed.
She noticed that they were sitting closer together, and if she wasn’t wrong, her son’s hand was on Frankie’s thigh. Whatever problems they’d been having, she was relieved to see that they’d moved on from them. At least for the time being. She feared that the ghost of Naomi was still hanging around.
“I made a special breakfast,” she said. “Waffles, eggs, ham and bacon, orange juice and fresh fruit.”
“Mom, you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble,” Hank said, “but we appreciate it. I’m starved.” He picked up the plate of waffles, pulled three onto his plate and passed the plate to Frankie.
“I can’t remember the last time I had waffles,” Frankie said and helped herself.
“Try the huckleberry syrup,” he suggested. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. Or there is chokecherry syrup, also my grandmother Mary’s recipe.” Dana had named her daughter after her.
She loved seeing her son and Frankie in such a good mood. She watched with a light heart as they helped themselves to eve
rything she’d prepared. They both did have healthy appetites. She smiled over at Hud, remembering how he’d appreciated hers, back when she was that young.
She looked at the two lovebirds and wondered, though, if she’d really ever been that young. Nothing could spoil this moment, she thought, right before the phone rang.
Hud excused himself to answer it since it was probably marshal business.
Hank got up too, to follow his father into the other room.
Dana pushed the butter over to Frankie. “You look beautiful this morning. I love that shirt.” It wasn’t one of those baggy ones like she wore most of the time.
“Thank you.” Frankie looked down at the shirt as if just realizing that she’d put it on that morning. When she looked up, her eyes clouded over.
“I’m sorry—was it something I said?”
“No, it’s just that I love being here and—”
Hank came back into the room, followed by his father. Dana saw their expressions and said, “What’s happened?”
Hud put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “It’s just work, but Hank and Frankie are going back to Idaho today. They’re leaving right after breakfast.”
Dana shook her head as she felt her eyes burn with tears. “So soon?” she asked her son. “It feels like you just got here.”
“It’s for the best right now,” Hank said. “We both have jobs to get back to, but don’t worry. I’ll be home again before you know it.”
Her gaze went to Frankie as she recalled how close the young woman had been to tears just moments ago. Because she knew they were leaving? Or because she wouldn’t be coming back?
“She’ll be coming back too,” Hank said quickly as if reading her expression. Her son sat back down at the table to finish his breakfast and gave Frankie a look that was so filled with love, Dana felt choked up.
“I certainly hope you’ll both be back,” she said, fighting tears.
“I have to go,” her husband said as he leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. She reached back to grab his hand and squeeze it. She wished he would retire. There were days he left the house when she wasn’t sure he would make it home alive again. It was a thought that filled her with fear. She couldn’t wait for the days when the two of them would be here together on the ranch with their grandchildren and the phone wouldn’t ring with marshal business.
