by B. J Daniels
“That flu you had must have been awful. I hate that you were so far away from home when it happened.” She smiled at her daughter in the mirror, just thankful she had Cassidy back, although she still seemed confused. Doc had said she should be her old self soon. “I’m just glad you’re home.”
“I was going to talk to you about that,” Cassidy said, finally turning from the mirror. “Dad mentioned something about you joining him when you could on the campaign trail. Are you just staying here because of me?” Sarah started to open her mouth, but Cassidy cut her off. “That’s what I thought. You need to go join Dad.”
“I don’t want to leave you just yet.”
“You won’t have to.” Her daughter smiled, blue eyes shining. “I want to go along.”
Sarah hadn’t expected this. “I’m not sure—”
“Dad needs us. I can help out. I’ve done nothing with my life thus far. I want to do this. I want to support Dad like he’s always supported me.”
She studied her daughter, thinking how much Buck would love having the two of them with him. “All right.” She smiled. “Your father will be delighted.”
“We’re going to need new clothes,” Cassidy said, making her laugh. Maybe her daughter was going to be all right if she was thinking of shopping.
“Yes, we will,” she said, giving her a hug. “That sounds like your father now. Why don’t you tell him the good news.”
Cassidy ran downstairs. Sarah joined them to find Buck looking more than a little pleased.
“Did she tell you the news?”
Buck nodded. “But I have to ask. You’ve never shown an interest in politics before. What brought this on?”
Cassidy shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I want to help. Since I woke up in the hospital, I feel...different. I missed all of you and Montana. I think I’ve selfishly been angry about you running for president because it inconvenienced me,” she confessed. “I want to make up for it.”
Buck looked to Sarah. His eyes were bright. “What do you think about this, Sarah?”
She couldn’t help but wonder if this sudden interest in politics had something to do with what Cassidy had learned about her mother. She pushed that thought away, telling herself she was being paranoid.
“I think it’s going to be fun to have Cassidy working with us.” She knew part of the reason was that she could keep an eye on Cassidy. Not that she thought she might remember. But just in case she did, Sarah would have to take care of it.
Buck looked again at their daughter. “Well, whatever your reason, I’m delighted.” He pulled them both into a hug. “My girls with me? I couldn’t be happier.”
EPILOGUE
“THIS IS THE young man I was telling you about, Jack Durand,” Buckmaster said. “He’s been a godsend for our campaign.”
Those words hung in the air as Sarah turned to see Jack Durand come into the room.
Shock quaked through her, rattling her for a moment. She quickly smiled, praying he hadn’t seen her shock—or her fear—at the sight of him. She’d known he had joined the campaign, but she’d thought he was in Houston working with the staff there.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Jack was saying. “And belated congratulations.” She must have looked confused. “On your wedding,” he added.
“Oh, thank you,” she said with a nervous laugh. She knew she’d been staring at him, fearing that he had remembered and that was why he was here. But as her gaze met his, she saw nothing but sincerity.
“My husband has told me wonderful things about you,” she said, needing to fill the silence. She was still so shocked that the young man her husband had been bragging about was Jack Durand. “Is this your first campaign?”
“It is. I’ve never gotten involved in politics before, but I saw one of your husband’s debates. I was so impressed that I felt I had to be part of him becoming our next president.”
“That’s wonderful,” Sarah said, wondering if his interest was some residual memory from what he’d learned about his father and Cassidy’s mother. The mind was a strange thing. Where did those lost memories go? It wasn’t as if they could be eradicated, pulverized into dust. They still had to be there, just inaccessible. Unless someone unlocked them.
She thought of her time in Brazil and the deep longing she’d had for something she’d never been able to articulate. Now she knew it had been for her husband and children. For twenty-two years she hadn’t known they existed, and yet she’d missed them.
Doc had taken her family away, wiping out their memory, and yet something had stayed. A deep longing. So who knew what was going on in Jack’s mind, let alone Cassidy’s? She was just glad that her daughter wasn’t here. Maybe with luck, the two wouldn’t cross paths.
Not that there should be a problem, according to Doc.
* * *
AT THE CAMPAIGN office in Helena, a song came on the radio as country as rural Montana. Cassidy began to dance without even realizing she was doing it. These months working on her father’s campaign had been the happiest of her life. She was finally doing something that felt right.
Her father was talking about keeping her on in some capacity after he was elected. He said he had another volunteer he wanted her to meet sometime.
“I think you’ll like him,” her father had said with a gleam in his eye.
“No playing cupid,” she’d warned him. “When the right man comes along, I’ll know it.”
As she was swaying to the music, she was surprised when a young man came through the door, caught her hand and pulled her into a cowboy jitterbug. She laughed as he twirled her out and pulled her back into his arms. Someone turned the radio up and other members of the staff joined in. She looked into his handsome face and felt a start.
“I know you,” she said, smiling.
He met her gaze. “You do look familiar. Ever been to Houston?” He swung her around. Expertly, she came back to him.
“On occasion.”
“Jack Durand,” he said, smiling as he swung her out again and caught her by the waist.
“Cassidy Hamilton.”
His step faltered only for an instant. Cassidy had grown up dancing to Western music in Montana. What surprised her, though, was how easily they fell into step together.
“Not...”
“Buckmaster is my father.” She said it with a sense of pride.
Jack shook his head. “That must be why you look so familiar. Maybe I saw a photograph of you. Not that it matters. It will eventually come to me. It always does.”
* * *
BUCKMASTER WATCHED FROM the doorway as his daughter and Jack Durand danced. Cassidy had her head thrown back, her face glowing with pleasure. Jack’s gaze was on her, his expression one of wonder. Buckmaster figured the young man had to be questioning how he’d gotten so lucky.
Cassidy looked happy. It radiated from her. Buckmaster thought he couldn’t have picked a better man for her. Jack reminded him of himself. He would go far. Everyone liked him.
The song stopped on the radio. His staff laughed breathlessly and started to go back to work when they saw him. Someone quickly turned off the radio and they scurried back to their desks.
“No need,” he said, although they clearly thought otherwise. “I was enjoying watching you all.” He couldn’t wait to tell Sarah that Jack and Cassidy had finally met and from what he could tell, they’d hit it off.
* * *
“WHAT ARE WE going to do?” Martin demanded when Sarah called him with the news weeks later.
“Nothing. Jack hasn’t mentioned some girl that he’s met and fallen for?”
Martin groaned. “I’ve heard it in his voice, but he didn’t mention any names. He sounds...”
“Happy?”
“You don’t think—”
“They aren’t remembering,” Sarah assured him.
“How can you know that? Come on, they both decide they are suddenly interested in politics and just happen to cross paths? What do you call that?”
“Fate. They believe they just met weeks ago. If you saw them together... They are so much in love.”
Martin swore. “What does Doc say?”
“That more brought the two of them together than us and our...secret. He called them star-crossed lovers.”
Martin was quiet for a moment. “And Joe? What does he have to say about this?”
“Doc hasn’t said. If anything, Joe is probably waiting to see what happens like the rest of us. The election isn’t that far off now.”
“So you haven’t heard from him?” he asked.
“No.” She wondered if Martin was having his doubts. Their children were in love. They were excited about their future, while their parents were planning... What exactly would it be? Something big. But what if it was a big sizzle instead? She prayed that at least at her end that would be the case.
But she knew this wasn’t over. Jack and Cassidy were in love. Would at some point one or both of them remember? Doc didn’t think so. Right now, they were blissfully happy.
Buckmaster was also happier than she’d ever seen him. The campaign was going better than expected. He would be the next president of the United States—unless something or someone stopped him.
Inside her a tiny voice at the back of her mind whispered that it might be her. It was the fear she lived with as the days counted down to election night. A fear that a switch could be thrown in her mind and she would become Red, a ruthless murderer.
* * * * *
The one person Sawyer Nash can’t fall in love with is Ainsley Hamilton, daughter of presidential candidate Buckmaster Hamilton, but when the sparks fly is he willing to risk his job and her safety for love?
Read on for a sneak preview of
HONOR BOUND,
the latest pulse-pounding title from
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author
B.J. Daniels.
If you loved the passion and suspense in Into Dust, then don’t miss the next thrilling tale in The Montana Hamiltons series by New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels,
Honor Bound
For more exhilarating romance and heart-thumping suspense, be sure to collect the rest of the titles in the series:
Hard Rain
Lucky Shot
Lone Rider
Wild Horses
Order your copies today!
“[The Montana Hamiltons] should definitely be on the must read list…a great introduction for new readers to this amazing author.”
—Fresh Fiction
Danger runs high and passions burn hot in B.J. Daniels’s Beartooth, Montana series. Don’t miss any of these exciting reads!
Mercy
Atonement
Forsaken
Redemption
Unforgiven
Fallen (novella)
Available now!
“Daniels has written a book that will truly grab you by the throat and leave you speechless.”
—Fresh Fiction on Mercy
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Honor Bound
by B.J. Daniels
Election night 2016
IT WAS THE old priest’s limp that caught Ainsley Hamilton’s attention as the presidential election results were announced over the loudspeaker. A deafening roar rose from the bundled-up crowd gathered at the fairgrounds outside Beartooth, Montana, that cold November night.
Her father, Buckmaster Hamilton, had just been announced the new president. Music began to play loudly as the throng cheered. She watched the priest, hunched over his cane, edging ever closer to the platform where her father would be giving his acceptance speech. Ice crystals danced in the night air against the backdrop of the Crazy Mountains. Millions of stars twinkled in the velvet blue of Montana’s big sky overhead. There was an excitement in the air as well, an electricity that had her feeling warm inside.
Ainsley’s heart surged. She was so proud of her father, so happy for him. This was his night. He’d worked hard to get here. She told herself that nothing could spoil it for him, especially her sister Kat’s concerns about security. The fairgrounds were crawling with Secret Service agents, sheriff department deputies and National Guard; even the sheriff himself was here.
Her gaze went again to the priest as he limped forward. The crowd parted for him, seeing his physical disabilities as well as his determination to get closer. When he finally reached the elevated platform where she was standing with her family, he leaned heavily on the cane as if trying to catch his breath. Like her, he must have wanted to be part of this history-making night.
Another roar erupted from those gathered as her father strode out onto the stage. He smiled and nodded, then turned to motion to his wife and six daughters. They had been waiting in the wings out of the cold for this moment. Ainsley looked at her sisters.
Bo smiled at her, so pregnant with her twins that she appeared to be wearing a small tent. The grown twins, Harper and Cassidy, were holding hands, both crying. Olivia was dabbing at her eyes, as well. It was clear that they had all been moved to tears, all except sister Kat, who looked nervous as their mother led the way across the stretch of red carpet to her waiting husband.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ainsley noticed that the old priest was straining to see. His limp looked painful, she thought as she saw him clutch his cane with both hands. She knew her interest in him was because of his limp. It reminded her of another man, a man she’d trusted her heart to recently only to have it broken.
As if she needed a limp to remind her of Sawyer Nash and what a fool she’d been. Thoughts of him were never more than a heartbeat away. Unconsciously, she ran a fingertip over the burn scar on her wrist, another reminder of Sawyer.
The crowd was roaring again as Sarah joined her husband, followed by one daughter after another. Ainsley fell back, letting her sisters go ahead of her. Too many emotions had her feeling vulnerable. She wasn’t ready to face all of these people right now.
As Kat started down the carpet to join their father, Ainsley had no choice but to join them. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that this night was for her father, the first Montanan to be elected president. The excitement of the crowd filled her heart to bursting.
Standing on the platform next to her family, she smiled at her father through her tears. Her pride in him closed her throat as she tried not to cry with this many people watching.
Fortunately, the cameras—just like the Secret Service agents—were trained on the future president as he hugged each of them and then stepped to the microphone to make his acceptance speech. She and her five sisters and mother moved back toward the warm room again as he took his place to the applause of the massive crowd.
Buckmaster Hamilton had won by a landslide, and no one within four hundred miles wanted to miss this, even on such a cold night.
Ainsley had been making her way back, willing herself not to cry, when the priest looked up and their eyes met. Recognition made her stumble. She would have fallen if her mother hadn’t caught her arm.
But Ainsley hardly noticed. She was staring down into the priest’s face. He wasn’t as old as he had seemed when she’d first spotted him moving through the crowd, leaning so heavily on his cane. Even more shocking was that she knew him. A childhood memory surfaced in a wave of guilt because of the promise sh
e’d been forced to keep all those years ago.
The man had been younger back then, but so had her mother. From her bedroom window, she’d watched the two of them out by the stables.
Ainsley, barely twelve, had seen at once that there was something wrong as the man had approached her mother. Her mother had taken a step back. Suddenly the man had grabbed her mother’s arm. Her mother had been struggling to get free of him. Ainsley hadn’t been able to hear them, but she could tell that they were arguing.
She’d rushed down the stairs and ran out to the cool shadows of the stables where they were standing. The man had seen her and quickly let go of her mother’s arm. She’d been close enough that she heard what he said to her mother.
“This isn’t over, Sarah.” Then he’d disappeared around the back of the building, but not before his gaze had bored into Ainsley. She’d known she would never forget those eyes. An electric blue that felt as if they had branded her.
“Who was that?” she’d demanded of her mother, recalling how he’d said her mother’s first name.
“No one.” Her mother had quickly wiped her eyes. “A stable hand. I had to fire him.”
“He hurt you!” Ainsley had cried, seeing where the man’s fingers had bit into her mother’s arm.
“I’m fine,” she’d said, pulling down her sleeve to hide it before she’d taken Ainsley’s shoulders in her trembling hands. “You can’t tell anyone about this, your sisters, especially your father. It will only upset him. I’ve taken care of it. The man won’t be back. Do you hear me? Promise, you won’t ever tell.”
“But he said—”
“Please.”
It was the word please coming out almost as a sob that had made Ainsley make a promise she’d guiltily kept all these years. Weeks later her mother would drive her SUV into the Yellowstone River and be presumed dead when her body wasn’t recovered from the iced-over river. For twenty-two years her mother would be dead—until recently when she’d returned from the grave with no memory of where she’d been.
