by B. J Daniels
Their grandfather Titus came in pushing Gramma Pearl in a wheelchair. Pearl cradled a bottle of champagne in her lap and gave Laci a half smile, eyes twinkling.
Behind them were the Bailey girls—Eve, McKenna and Faith—and Sheriff Carter Jackson and his older brother Cade.
Laci was surprised to see Cade. She knew he usually spent the holidays out at his cabin near Sleeping Buffalo. Christmas had been hard on him since his wife was killed in a car accident on Christmas Eve six years ago.
They were all laughing and brushing snow from their coats as they put down the Christmas tree decorations they’d brought.
Laci hugged each and every one of them, kneeling down to take the champagne from her grandmother and plant a kiss on her cool, dry cheek. She was doing so much better, and Laci saw in her eyes happiness at being here.
“I have Christmas cookies!” Laci announced. She’d almost forgotten that she’d made the cookies before the grand opening of the restaurant.
While the men put up the tree, Laney came into the kitchen with Laci.
“How are you?” her sister asked, giving her a hug.
“I’m okay,” Laci said. “I’m sick about the house, though. Is Gramps all right?”
Laney smiled and nodded. “I think he’s relieved. He was talking on the way here about giving us each a piece of the ranch so we can build our own houses. Not too close but close enough our kids can play together.”
“Our kids?” Laci laughed, then saw her sister’s expression. “Oh, Laney, you’re pregnant?”
Her sister nodded through her tears. “I just found out. Did I mention that twins run in Nick’s family?”
Laci hugged her. “I’m going to be an aunt.”
“So tell me about Bridger,” Laney said.
And she did.
“You’re in love with him,” her sister said when she’d finished.
Laci nodded.
“And how does he feel about you?”
“Well...” How did he feel about her? “He gave me half of the restaurant as an early Christmas present.”
Laney must have heard the disappointment in her voice. “Eve told me why he was here in Whitehorse. I asked Gramps about the sewing circle. I couldn’t tell if he knew what Gramma had been up to or not. But he definitely doesn’t know any details. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I just wonder if Bridger will ever be happy until he finds out the truth about his birth,” Laci said.
They took the cookies and glasses for the champagne out front and watched as the group finished decorating the tree.
“I saved the best part for you,” Bridger said and handed her a beautiful glittering angel. He swept her up, lifting her so she could put the angel on top of the tree.
“Someone get the lights,” Titus called. The room went dark.
Bridger’s gaze locked with Laci’s as he plugged in the tree. An array of colored lights flashed on, the tree glittering with ornaments. It was met with a chorus of oohs and aahs.
“It’s beautiful,” Laci sighed as she smiled at Bridger. “Thank you.” She knew she was thanking him for more than the tree. He’d brought everyone together here today knowing how much she needed her family and friends.
“There’s more,” he said softly as he stepped to her. In the glow of the lights from the tree, he reached into his pocket and came out with a small jewelry box.
“The second part of your Christmas present,” he said. “I can’t wait until Christmas.”
Her eyes widened in surprise as he opened the box to reveal a breathtaking diamond engagement ring.
She began to cry as he knelt down on one knee and said, “Laci Cavanaugh, I want you to be more than my partner in this restaurant. I want you to be my partner in life. Will you marry me?”
She couldn’t breathe. For maybe the first time in her life she was speechless. She looked around the room at the faces of the people she loved. Christmas music played on the radio in the kitchen, and on Main Street she heard sleigh bells and children laughing.
She couldn’t have envisioned a happier scene as she looked into Bridger’s dark eyes and felt as if everything that had happened had been leading to this moment. Hadn’t she always believed in destiny? Well, she did now.
“Yes,” she finally managed to say, her voice cracking. “Oh, yes.”
And then she was in his arms. Everyone was cheering and laughing. Her grandfather popped the champagne and someone turned up the radio.
“Silent Night” was playing. They stood, champagne glasses raised, Bridger’s arm around Laci, and all sang as the lights on the Christmas tree glowed as warm as her heart.
“Merry Christmas,” Bridger whispered.
“Merry Christmas.”
Epilogue
AS CHRISTMAS DAY APPROACHED, it continued to snow. Huge white flakes drifted lazily down from the heavens. The Christmas lights came on in the park. Everywhere there were people on the main street, shopping, and carols playing on the radio.
A new year was approaching. It would be a time of joy and sorrow.
Pearl Cavanaugh was doing much better, but while she attempted to speak, the words were unintelligible. But given her determination, Laci and Laney had no doubt that their grandmother would recover her speech.
Eve and Bridger held out hope that eventually they would know about their births and might even find their birth mother.
Carter was still waiting for an ID on the male body found at the old Cherry house. In the meantime, he’d set up a sting operation to find out who was selling drugs down in Old Town Whitehorse.
A kind of peace hung over Whitehorse as the snow fell and shoppers scurried along the street with brightly lit windows. A sense of hope that the future held promise, that all the bad times were behind the community.
At the state mental hospital, a patient on the criminally insane ward blinked and focused on the nurse’s face in front of her.
“Doctor!” the nurse called.
“Where am I?” the female patient cried, looking around wildly, fear apparent in eyes that had been blank and unseeing for months.
“Easy,” the doctor said, coming into the room and to her bedside. “Do you know your name?”
She nodded slowly. “Violet Evans.”
The doctor smiled. “That’s a place to start, Miss Evans.”
“But what am I doing here?” Violet asked tearfully. “Have I been injured? Was I sick?”
“Let’s just take it easy, all right. You’ve been sick. I’ll tell you everything. All in good time.”
Violet nodded and leaned back. He was right about one thing: it was just a matter of time. A matter of time before she got out of here.
Wouldn’t everyone in Whitehorse and Old Town be surprised to see her back? she thought as she smiled weakly up at the doctor.
“Tell me I’m going to be all right,” she whispered.
“I think you’re going to be just fine, Violet Evans. You have the rest of your life ahead of you.”
Unlike some of the residents of Whitehorse, she thought with a smile.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from DEAD RINGER & CLASSIFIED CHRISTMAS by B.J. Daniels.
New York Times bestselling author
B.J. DANIELS
takes readers back to her fan-favorite Whitehorse, Montana miniseries with three stories of suspense and cowboys who face down danger with their own brand of Western justice.
DARK HORSE
DEAD RINGER
ROUGH RIDER
Don’t miss any of the titles in the gripping
Whitehorse, Montana: The McGraw Kidnapping series.
Dead Ringer & Classified Christmas
by B.J. Daniels
Chapter One
ABBY PIERCE OPENED her eyes and quickly closed them against the bright sunlight. She hurt all over. As she tried to sit up, a hand gently pushed on her shoulder to keep her flat on the bed.
“Don’t sit up too fast,” her husband said. “You’re okay. You’re in the hospital. You took a nasty fall.”
Fall? Hospital? Her mouth felt dry as dust. She licked her lips. “Can you close the drapes?”
“Sure,” Wade said and hurried over to the window.
She listened as he drew the drapes together and felt the room darken before she opened her eyes all the way.
The first thing she saw was her husband silhouetted against the curtains. He was a big imposing man with a boyish face and a blond crew cut. He was wearing his sheriff’s deputy uniform, she noted as he moved back to the bed to take her hand.
She’d known Wade for years. She’d married him three years ago. That was why when she saw the sheepish look in his brown eyes, she knew at once that he was hiding something.
Abby frowned. “What was I doing that I fell?”
“You don’t remember?” He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “You asked me to bring up some canning jars from the garage? I’m so sorry I didn’t. If I had you wouldn’t have been on that ladder...” He looked at her as if expecting... Expecting what?
“Canning jars?” she repeated and touched her bandaged temple. “I hit my head?”
He nodded, and taking her hand, he squeezed it a little too hard. “I’m so sorry, Abby.” He sounded close to tears.
“It’s not your fault,” she said automatically, but couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the story. There often was with Wade and his family. She frowned, trying to understand why she would have wanted canning jars and saying as much.
“You said something about putting up peach jam.”
“Really? I wonder where I planned to get peaches this time of year.”
He said nothing, avoiding her gaze. All the other times she’d seen him like this it had been after he’d hurt her. It had started a year into their marriage and begun with angry accusations that led to him grabbing her, shaking her, pushing her and even slapping her.
Each time he’d stopped before it had gone too far. Each time he’d been horrified by what he’d done. He’d cried in her arms, begging her to forgive him, telling her that he couldn’t live without her, saying he would kill himself if she ever left him. And then promising he’d never do it again.
She touched her bandaged head with her free hand. The movement brought a groan out of her as she realized her ribs were either bruised or maybe even broken. Looking down, she saw the bruises on her wrists and knew he was lying. Had he pushed her this time?
“Why can’t I remember what happened?” she asked.
“You can’t remember anything?” He sounded hopeful, fueling her worst fears that one of these days he would go too far and kill her. Wasn’t that what her former boyfriend kept telling her? She pushed the thought of Ledger McGraw away as she often had to do. He didn’t understand that she’d promised to love, honor and obey when she’d married Wade—even through the rough spots. And this she feared was one of them.
At the sound of someone entering the room, they both turned to see the doctor come in.
“How are we doing?” he asked as he moved to the foot of her bed to look at her chart. He glanced at Wade, then quickly looked away. Wade let go of her hand and moved to the window to part the drapes and peer out.
Abby closed her eyes at the shaft of sunlight he let in. “My head hurts,” she told the doctor.
“I would imagine it does. When your husband brought you in, you were in and out of consciousness.”
Wade had brought her in? He didn’t call an ambulance?
“Also I can’t seem to remember what happened,” she added and, out of the corner of her eye, saw her husband glance back at her.
The doctor nodded. “Very common in your type of head injury.”
“Will she get her memory back?” Wade asked from the window, sounding worried that she would.
“Possibly. Often not. I’m going to prescribe something for your headache. Your ribs are badly bruised and you have some other abrasions. I’d like to keep you overnight.”
“Is that really necessary?” Wade asked, letting the drapes drop back into place.
“With a concussion, it’s best,” the doctor said without looking at him. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of her.”
“We can talk about it,” Wade said. “But I think she’d be more comfortable in her own home. Isn’t that right, Abby?”
“On this, I think I know best,” the doctor interrupted.
But she could see that Wade was worried. He apparently wanted to get her out of here and quickly. What was he worried about? That she would remember what happened?
If only she could. Unfortunately, the harder she tried, the more she couldn’t. The past twenty-four hours were blank, leaving her with the terrifying feeling that her life depended on her remembering.
Copyright © 2017 by Barbara Heinlein
ISBN-13: 9781488081415
Dark Horse & The Mystery Man of Whitehorse
Copyright © 2017 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holder of the individual works as follows:
Dark Horse
Copyright © 2017 by Barbara Heinlein
The Mystery Man of Whitehorse
Copyright © 2007 by Barbara Heinlein
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