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B.J. Daniels the Cardwell Ranch Collection

Page 38

by B. J Daniels


  “The EMTs are on the way,” Grayson explained. He looked at Mason. “Rusty told you about the guesthouse?”

  Mason nodded. “It’s gone.”

  Grayson stopped next to him, his breath gusting. Probably because he’d run all the way from the main ranch house. “Yeah. And there was a gas can by the back porch. Rusty managed to pull it out of there before the flames took over.”

  What the devil? Mason mentally went through the reasons why Abbie would have had a gas can on the porch, and he couldn’t immediately think of one. She trained his cutting horses and didn’t have anything to do with any ranch equipment that required gasoline.

  “Looks like someone could have set the fire,” Grayson concluded.

  Arson. On the ranch.

  The anger slammed through Mason. Even though he had five brothers who were equal owners of the land, the ranch was his domain. He ran it. It was what he loved, more than a badge, more than just about anything. And if someone had intentionally burned down the guesthouse with Abbie inside, then that someone was going to pay and pay hard.

  “It could have been worse,” Rusty went on, turning to Grayson. “Mason barely got Abbie out of there in time.”

  That was true. And Mason went back to Abbie’s stupid question.

  Did you try to kill me?

  Had she seen something or someone? Maybe. And Mason changed that maybe to a probably after remembering the way she’d looked at him. He was accustomed to people shying out of his way. Used to the uneasiness that he caused with his steely exterior, but Abbie’s fear had twisted something inside of him that he hadn’t felt before.

  The sound of sirens sliced through his anger and thoughts, and all three of them looked in the direction of the road where there were swirls of red-and-blue lights approaching. The fire department, an ambulance and a sheriff’s cruiser. Could be one of his brothers, Dade or Gage, in the cruiser, because they were both deputies.

  “I’ll talk to them,” Grayson volunteered. “You stay with the trainer until the EMTs have checked her out.”

  He would, but while he was doing that, Mason could ask some questions that might help them get to the bottom of all of this.

  Grayson and Rusty headed out in the direction of the approaching emergency responders, and Mason threw open his office door. His attention zoomed right to the sofa where he’d left Abbie.

  She wasn’t there.

  Mason looked at the adjoining bathroom. Door closed. And that’s probably where she was—maybe crying or falling apart from the inevitable adrenaline crash.

  He took a moment to pull on his boots, but when he still couldn’t find his shirt, he crossed the large working space and knocked on the bathroom door.

  No answer.

  So he knocked again, harder this time. “You okay in there?”

  Still no answer.

  He rethought that crying or falling-apart theory and moved on to one that caused his concern to spike through the roof. Maybe she was unconscious from an injury he hadn’t noticed.

  No knock this time. Mason kicked down the door and was thankful when it didn’t hit her. He looked at the sink first. Not there. Then, the separate toilet area. Not there either. And she darn sure wasn’t in the shower.

  That’s when he noticed the bathroom window was wide-open.

  What the devil was going on?

  He hurried to the window and looked out. Thanks to that hunter’s moon, he saw her. Barely. She was at least thirty yards away, her pale blue gown fluttering in the wind.

  Abbie was running as if her life depended on it.

  ISBN: 9781459241862

  Copyright © 2012 by Barbara Heinlein

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com

  CARDWELL BEWARE

  The Cardwell clan has a new, mysterious member. Dana Cardwell warmly welcomed her Justice cousin into the family fold and to the ranch for a reunion. But this cunning kin has other plans for Dana…and designs on her husband, Hud.

  Hilde Jacobson has known Dana too long to let her best friend get conned—or worse, killed. Unfortunately Hilde is no match for a skilled impostor who’s duped everyone in the canyon. Only Deputy Marshal Colt Dawson believes Hilde’s claims about the phony relation; only his strong arms have saved her from “accidents” intended to get her out of the way. Together can they convince the Cardwells that a predator lurks in their happy home?

  The man was too handsome for his own good.

  Deputy Marshal Colt Dawson had gotten his straight, thick black hair from his father, who was Native American, and his startling blue eyes from his Irish mother. On top of that, he was tall, broad shouldered, with slim hips and long legs, and had this grin that…

  Hilde shook herself again, shocked that she’d let her thoughts go down that particular trail. It was flattering that Colt had asked her out, but she was his age and he hadn’t dated a woman his own age since he’d come to Big Sky. Let alone one who was looking for something more than a good time.

  As she started to turn away from the front window of her fabric store, Needles and Pins, she saw the man across the street at the front table in the deli get up and leave. Colt quickly took his place, his blue-eyed gaze coming up suddenly as if he knew Hilde would be standing there.

  Hilde quickly stepped back, but she couldn’t help smiling as she hurried to the counter at the back of the store.

  “Why didn’t you go out with him?” her best friend Dana Cardwell had asked her. “What would it have hurt?”

  She hadn’t had an answer at that moment. But she did now. A man like Colt Dawson was capable of breaking her heart.

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  B.J. Daniels

  Cardwell Ranch

  Trespasser

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  USA TODAY bestselling author B.J. Daniels wrote her first book after a career as an award-winning newspaper journalist and author of thirty-seven published short stories. That first book, Odd Man Out, received a four-and-a-half-star review from RT Book Reviews and went on to be nominated for Best Intrigue that year. Since then, she has won numerous awards, including a career achievement award for romantic suspense and many nominations and awards for best book.

  Daniels lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, and two springer spaniels, Spot and Jem. When she isn’t writing, she snowboards, camps, boats and plays tennis. Daniels is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, International Thriller Writers, Kiss of Death and Romance Writers of America.

  To contact her, write to B.J. Daniels, P.O. Box 1173, Malta, MT 59538, or email her at bjdaniels@mtintouch.net
. Check out her website, www.bjdaniels.com.

  Books by B.J. Daniels

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  897—CRIME SCENE AT CARDWELL RANCH

  996—SECRET OF DEADMAN’S COULEE*

  1002—THE NEW DEPUTY IN TOWN*

  1024—THE MYSTERY MAN OF WHITEHORSE*

  1030—CLASSIFIED CHRISTMAS*

  1053—MATCHMAKING WITH A MISSION*

  1059—SECOND CHANCE COWBOY*

  1083—MONTANA ROYALTY*

  1125—SHOTGUN BRIDE‡

  1131—HUNTING DOWN THE HORSEMAN‡

  1137—BIG SKY DYNASTY‡

  1155—SMOKIN’ SIX-SHOOTER‡

  1161—ONE HOT FORTY-FIVE‡

  1198—GUN-SHY BRIDE**

  1204—HITCHED!**

  1210—TWELVE-GAUGE GUARDIAN**

  1234—BOOTS AND BULLETS‡‡

  1240—HIGH-CALIBER CHRISTMAS‡‡

  1246—WINCHESTER CHRISTMAS WEDDING^

  1276—BRANDED†

  1282—LASSOED†

  1288—RUSTLED†

  1294—STAMPEDED†

  1335—CORRALLED†

  1353—WRANGLED†

  1377—JUSTICE AT CARDWELL RANCH

  1413—CARDWELL RANCH TRESPASSER

  *Whitehorse, Montana

  ‡Whitehorse, Montana: The Corbetts

  **Whitehorse, Montana: Winchester Ranch

  ‡‡Whitehorse, Montana: Winchester Ranch Reloaded

  †Whitehorse, Montana: Chisholm Cattle Company

  Other titles by this author available in ebook format.

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Deputy Marshal Colt Dawson—He would have done anything to get close to the owner of the sewing shop. Even risk his life to save her.

  Hilde Jacobson—The owner of Needles and Pins suspected something was wrong the moment she met her best friend’s cousin.

  Dana Cardwell—She had no idea what she was getting into when she discovered a cousin she didn’t know she had–and invited her to Montana.

  Hud Cardwell—The marshal, glad to see his wife so happy, missed what was really going on.

  Dee Anna Justice—The woman who had taken her roommate’s identity thought her luck had changed when the invitation came to visit Montana and a cousin she’d never met.

  Rick Cameron—He should have known how dangerous it could be when he followed “Dee” to Montana.

  This book is dedicated to my editor, Denise Zaza, and all the readers who didn’t want to leave the “canyon” and Cardwell Ranch. Thanks for talking me into this.

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Just inside the door, she stopped to take a look around the apartment to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. This place, like all the others she’d lived in, held no special sentimental value for her. Neither would the next one, she thought. She’d learned a long time ago not to get too attached to anything.

  The knock on the other side of the door startled her. She froze, careful not to make a sound. The building super, Mr. McNally, again, wanting the back rent? She should have left earlier.

  Another knock. She thought about waiting him out, but her taxi was already downstairs. She would have to talk her way out of the building. It wasn’t as if this was the first time she’d found herself in a spot like this.

  She opened the door, ready to do whatever it took to reach her taxi.

  It wasn’t Mr. McNally.

  A courier stood holding a manila envelope, a clipboard and a pen.

  “Dee Anna Justice?” he asked.

  She looked from him to the envelope in his hand. It looked legal. Maybe some rich uncle had died and left Dee Anna a fortune.

  “Yes?”

  He glanced past her into the empty apartment. She’d sold all the furniture and anything else that wasn’t nailed down. Seeing him judging her living conditions, she pulled the door closed behind her. He didn’t know her. How dare he? He had no idea what kind of woman she was, and he certainly wasn’t going to judge her by the mess she’d left in the apartment.

  She cocked a brow at him, waiting.

  “I need to see some identification,” he said.

  Of course he did. It was all she could do not to smile. Well, sneer, as she produced a driver’s license in the name of Dee Anna Justice. She’d known where to get a fake ID since she was fourteen.

  He shifted on his feet and finally held the pen out to her and showed her where to sign.

  She wrote Dee Anna Justice the way she’d seen her former roommate do it dozens of times, and held out her hand impatiently for the envelope, hoping there was money inside. She was due for some good news. Otherwise the envelope and its contents would end up with the rest of the trash inside the apartment.

  “Thanks a lot,” she said sarcastically, as the courier finally handed it over. She was anxious to rip into it right there, but she really needed to get out of here.

  It wasn’t until she was in the backseat of the cab, headed for the train, that she finally tore open the envelope and pulled out the contents. At first she was a little disappointed. There was only a single one-page letter inside.

  As she read the letter through, though, she began to laugh. No rich uncle had died. But it was almost as good. Apparently Dee Anna had a cousin who lived on a ranch in Montana. She ran her finger over the telephone number. According to the letter, all she had to do was call and she would be on her way to Montana. With a sob story, she figured she could get her “cousin” to foot most if not all of her expenses.

  She had the cabdriver stop so she could buy a cell phone in the name of Dee Anna Justice. After she made her purchase she instructed the driver to take her to the airport, where she bought a first-class ticket. She couldn’t wait to get to Montana and meet her cousin Dana Cardwell.

  Chapter Two

  “You’re never going to believe this.”

  Hilde Jacobson looked up from behind the counter at Needles and Pins, her sewing shop at Big Sky, Montana, and smiled as her best friend came rushing in, face flushed, dark eyes bright. Her dark hair was pulled back, and she even had on earrings and makeup.

  “You escaped?” Hilde said. “I don’t believe it.” Dana didn’t get out much since the birth of her twin boys last fall. Now she had her hands full with four children, all under the age of six.

  Her friend dropped a packet of what appeared to be old letters on the counter. “I have family I didn’t know I had,” she said.

  Hilde had to laugh. It wasn’t that long ago that Dana was at odds with her siblings over the ranch. Family had been a word that had set her off in an entirely different direction than happy excitement.

  Last year she’d reunited with her siblings. Her sister, Stacy, and baby daughter, Ella; and brother Jordan and his wife, Deputy Marshal Liza Turner Cardwell, were now all living here in Big Sky. Her other brother, Clay, was still in California helping make movies.

  “A cousin is on her way to Montana,” Dana announced. “We have to pick her up at the airport.”

  “We?” Hilde asked, looking out the window at the Suburban parked at the curb. Normally the car seats were full and either Dana’s husband, Hud, or Stacy would now be wrestling a stroller from the back.

  “Tell me you’ll go with me. I can’t do this alone.”

  “Becaus
e you’re so shy,” Hilde joked.

  “I’m serious. I’m meeting a cousin who is a complete stranger. I need you there for moral support and to kick me if I say something stupid.”

  “Why would you say something stupid?”

  Dana leaned in closer and, although there was just the two of them in the shop, whispered, “This branch of the family comes with quite the sordid story.”

  “How sordid?” Hilde asked, intrigued but at the same time worried. Who had Dana invited to the ranch?

  “I was going through some of my mother’s things when I found these,” Dana said, picking up the letters she’d plunked down on the counter and turning them in her fingers.

  “That sounds positive,” Hilde said, “you going through your mother’s things.” Mary Justice Cardwell had died nearly six years ago. Because it had been so unexpected and because it had hit Dana so hard, she hadn’t been able to go through her mother’s things—let alone get rid of anything. Not to mention the fact that her siblings had tried to force her to sell the ranch after their mother’s death because Mary’s most recent will had gone missing for a while.

  “About time I dealt with her things, wouldn’t you say?” Dana asked with a sad smile.

  “So you found something in one of these letters?” Hilde asked, getting her friend back on track.

  Dana brightened. “A family secret!”

  Hilde laughed. “It must be on the Cardwell side of the family. Do tell.”

  “Actually, that is what’s so shocking. It’s on the Justice side.” Climbing up on a stool at the counter, her friend pulled out one of the letters. “My mother had a brother named Walter who I knew nothing about. Apparently he left home at seventeen and married some woman of ill repute, and my grandparents disinherited him and refused to have his name spoken again.”

  “Seriously? That is so medieval,” she said, stepping around the counter so she could read over Dana’s shoulder.

 

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