by B. J Daniels
“Because I’m running for president,” the senator said quietly.
“Under ordinary circumstances, you would be provided with security once you were a major presidential candidate, but that security would only be for one hundred and twenty days from the general presidential election.” Frank hurried on, seeing that the senator was about to decline. “I would strongly suggest contacting the Secretary of Homeland Security. It is my understanding that he can make arrangements to provide Secret Service protection to commence before that, given the circumstances.”
Buckmaster shook his head. “I am not taking this speculation about my wife...my former wife...to any Homeland Security secretary. You don’t have an ounce of proof, or you wouldn’t be coming to me with this. You would be talking to the FBI who have already found no reason to investigate Sarah. Isn’t that what you told me?”
Frank could have argued that, yes, it was all circumstantial, but once added up together—
“Damn it, Frank, do you really think Sarah is a threat to me?” Buckmaster asked, his voice sounding as tired as he looked.
The sheriff chose his words carefully. “I believe this group, the Prophecy, is a threat, yes. I believe they plan to harm you or manipulate you or kill you either after you become the Republican party candidate or, more likely, after you are elected president.”
“Based on what?” the senator demanded.
“Based on everything we know about Sarah and the Prophecy.”
“Well, you’re wrong about her.” Buckmaster raked a hand through his graying hair. He looked older, more road worn and sad. Frank could see that he didn’t want to believe any of this. “Hell, that group of misfit antigovernment radicals are in their late fifties or early sixties now. Maybe they were young and idealistic in the ’70s, but they can’t be organized enough to pull something like this off. Not with all the security that will be—”
“But if Sarah is at your side, Senator, when you make your acceptance speech, security won’t be expecting her to be the one who kills you, though.”
Buckmaster looked as if he might bust a gasket. “Sarah would never hurt me.”
Frank got to his feet, seeing that this meeting was over. “Just know that you’re staking your life on that. By the way, where is Sarah staying now? I understand she broke her engagement to Russell Murdock.”
For a moment he didn’t think Buckmaster would tell him. Frank already had a pretty good idea that Sarah would be moving back to Hamilton Ranch once Angelina Broadwater Hamilton was laid to rest.
“Not that it is any of your business, but Sarah is staying in one of the houses on the ranch where I can make sure she’s safe.” Buckmaster sighed, all the anger going out of him. “You have no idea how hard this is. I’m trying here.”
“I know you are. You feel responsible for Sarah. I understand that.”
“I love her. I’ve always loved her.” The admission quickly embarrassed the senator. He ducked his head and turned toward the door.
“I have to ask you, Senator. Are you thinking of pulling out of the race? It might be the only way you can save your life.”
Buckmaster stopped in the doorway, his back to him. “If you’re right about Sarah and the Prophecy, if I quit the race, then Sarah will bail on me like I’m a runaway mustang.”
Frank couldn’t help himself. “She does have experience with parachutes.”
“I’ll be announcing my plans after the funeral.”
* * *
MAX COULDN’T BELIEVE his eyes when Kat opened the door. “Wow. You steal my breath. You look beautiful.”
She glanced away as if embarrassed. “Is it too much?”
“No. You’re perfect.” She wore a blue dress that gently hugged her curves. It broke his heart that she’d been hiding this woman, apparently for years. He was just glad she’d let Kat Hamilton out for the evening.
He’d picked an expensive restaurant on the Yellowstone River. Only the best tonight. He hoped it would take her mind off her mother. The funeral was tomorrow. There would be media people around the cemetery, even though the service was closed to them. The senator would be holding a press conference at the ranch.
Earlier Max had run into old-time print reporter Harvey Duncan out by the ranch gate.
“I see you’ve found a way into the inner sanctum,” Harvey had commented with a wink. “Anything you’d like to share with your former outside-the-fence buddy?”
Max had shaken his head. “Funeral and press conference tomorrow, then I would imagine the senator will return to DC and his campaign for president.”
“He’s not quitting, like his old man did after he lost his wife?” Harvey had asked. Buckmaster’s father had also made a run for president, but had withdrawn shortly after his wife died. Like his son, he was said to have been a shoo-in.
“Not that I know of. I would imagine you’ll know when I do.” He’d given Harvey a wink back and driven on through the gate.
Now he studied the amazing woman across the restaurant table from him. “You seem nervous.”
Kat started to open her mouth to deny it, but he stopped her as he leaned forward and whispered, “If you’re worried about what’s going to happen after I wine and dine you, don’t be.”
She looked up from her menu.
“It’s not going to happen tonight. Though you are so beautiful...”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why not?” she whispered back, making him smile.
“You should know something about me. I joke around a lot. But I’m a pretty serious guy about some things. My job. My truck. My lucky boots.” Which he just happened to be wearing tonight. “Making love.”
* * *
KAT FELT HEAT work its way up her throat at his words spoken so softly. His eyes were locked with hers. This was definitely the serious Max Malone.
“Because I don’t take it lightly, I’m not going to rush this. If it is supposed to happen, it will, trust me. In the meantime—” he picked up his wineglass and held it up as if to toast “—I like just being here with you.”
“Me, too,” she said and picked up her wineglass to tap it against his. “To serious business.”
He chuckled. “I like you, Kat Hamilton.”
“There is one thing that bothers me. You mentioned how you take your job seriously. Max, you aren’t working.”
“I can afford to take a break from it.”
“Come on, I know you must be going crazy, sitting on a story like this.”
He smiled at her, clearly glad she understood him. “Kat, you know I can’t break this without proof.”
She put her glass down carefully. “Are you looking for it when you aren’t with me?”
He put down his glass, as well. She regretted changing the light, fun mood, but she had to know.
“I’ll admit it’s hard not to chase this to find one thing that I could write that would bust it wide-open and expose—” his gaze met hers “—your mother. But that’s where it gets tricky. I don’t want to hurt you or your family. The truth will eventually come out, I’m afraid, but I may not be the one who writes it.”
“Maybe if you did a story, it would stop them.”
He laughed. “I’m good, Kat, but not that good that I could stop terrorists. We still don’t know who they are or what they have planned. At least we know the sheriff will do what he can. Meanwhile...”
Her cell phone pinged, announcing a text. She reached for it to shut it off, when she saw that it was from her sister Ainsley.
“Oh, no,” she said as she looked up at Max. “It’s my sister Livie. She’s in labor at the hospital. I have to—”
“Get there right away,” Max said and placed his napkin on the table. “Let’s go.”
“I’m so sorry about dinner.”
He s
miled. “There will be another time.”
Kat groaned inwardly. “Even though you said it wasn’t going to happen tonight—” her gaze met his “—I wouldn’t have minded if it had.”
He grinned. “I was just trying to get you to relax during dinner. Otherwise I would have had that dress off you so fast...”
She had to laugh, knowing that when it happened, Max would take his time. He knew somehow that she would be scared. “This is getting ridiculous. I feel like fate is determined to keep us apart.”
“You have a point. But if I have anything to do with it, we aren’t going to let fate win, trust me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BUCKMASTER WASN’T ABOUT to tell the sheriff that Sarah was the one insisting he stay in the race. He reassured himself that he should be relieved by what Frank had told him. He now knew where Sarah had been the past twenty years. He’d imagined all kinds of crazy scenarios. She could have remarried, had other children, lived on the street, had to compromise herself to survive...
He pushed that thought away as he recalled what he’d learned about the Prophecy. According to the sheriff, she’d done worse things than he ever had imagined—and not in the missing twenty-two years, but before that.
Did he even know the woman he’d had six daughters with?
“Dad?”
He turned as he came in the front door to find Harper waiting for him.
“Where have you been?” his daughter demanded. “We’ve all been trying to reach you.”
“I turned off my phone when I...” When he’d gone in to see the sheriff, and he hadn’t turned it back on. “Why? What’s happened?”
His beautiful blonde, blue-eyed daughter quickly stepped to him. “Don’t panic. It’s Livie. She’s having her baby. We need to get to the hospital. I told the others to go ahead and I would wait for you.”
His first grandchild. His and Sarah’s first grandchild. He started to reach for his phone to call her but stopped himself. His loyalties had been divided for months now. He still didn’t know where Sarah fit into their family’s lives. Now her first grandchild was being born. She should be there.
He shook his head, feeling the bitterness he still felt from her betrayal. She’d left him. Left their family. Even though he couldn’t deny that he still had feelings for her, she’d given up her rights.
And if what the sheriff had told him was even a possibility...
“Let’s hurry,” he said to Harper. “I’m going to let you drive.” He was still shaken from everything that had happened over the past few days.
“This is so exciting,” Harper said. “You’re going to be a grandfather,” she said and laughed.
Again he thought of Sarah. This was her daughter, her grandbaby. He pulled out his cell phone.
“Are you calling Mother?” she asked.
“Don’t you think I should?”
Harper nodded. “Tell her to meet us at the hospital.”
Of course their mother should be there. This was Sarah’s daughter, Sarah’s grandbaby. He hit her number on his cell phone. She could meet them at the hospital. She would want to be there.
Maybe more important, he wanted her there. He thought of all the years when he’d wished for her to be by his side when he was raising the girls. Now she could be.
How could he overcome his doubts about her, though? He realized that when he was with her, he didn’t have any reservations about them being together again. He was sick of having doubts about her.
* * *
“THIS IS FAMILY,” Max said. “I’ll drop you off at the hospital.”
“The funeral is tomorrow. Will you go with me? I would really appreciate it.”
How could he say no? “If it’s what you want.”
While he was a freelancer, he didn’t have an editor breathing down his neck for a story. But he had been getting calls from publications that wondered what he was doing and if he had anything for them.
After he dropped Kat off, he was too antsy to go back to his motel. He’d hoped that tonight might be the night, but as he’d told her, he wasn’t going to push it for a lot of reasons. Once they made love, he knew there would be no going back. Was he really ready for that?
He drove around for a while and found himself in Beartooth. He pulled into the Range Rider bar, parked and went in, needing a drink. Taking a stool at the bar, he ordered a beer. He was staring at the label when a man pulled up a stool next to him.
“I know that look. There’s a woman behind it,” the man said and offered his hand. “Brody McTavish.”
Normally he would have preferred to be alone. But tonight he didn’t mind visiting with a local. He’d seen this rancher around. “Max Malone. How’d you guess I was thinking about a woman?”
“Some say because I’m Irish, I’m a little psychic.”
The bartender, a man about their age, shook his head and said, “Don’t believe anything Brody tells you. It’s the Irish that makes him a good storyteller.”
As the bartender went to the other end of the bar to help some other locals from the looks of them, Brody said, “I’m a good friend of Jace Calder.”
“Ah,” Max said and laughed. “Jace, who is engaged to Bo Hamilton, the sister of Kat.”
Brody chuckled. “I heard you were smart. The Hamiltons are a fine bunch. I’d hate to see any of them hurt.”
Max studied him for a moment. “So which one are you in love with?” he asked as he picked up his beer.
“I didn’t say—”
“I’m a little psychic myself,” he said and took a drink before flashing Brody a smile. “I’m suspecting it’s not Kat, or you wouldn’t have been as friendly when you started this conversation. So that leaves Ainsley. Nope. It’s one of the twins.”
Brody laughed. “You are psychic. Tom,” he called to the bartender. “Give my friend here another beer, and while you’re at it...”
“I haven’t seen you around the ranch,” Max said as the bartender set a beer in front of each of them. “So I suspect that whichever Hamilton girl you’re carrying a torch for, she doesn’t know how you feel.”
Brody laughed. “Let’s talk about you and Kat.”
“Right now, there is no me and Kat. We’re friends. More than friends, but there’s a few roadblocks.”
“Which was why you were staring into your beer as if it were a crystal ball,” Brody said and raised his bottle to clink it against Max’s. “To knocking down those roadblocks on the way to happy-ever-after.”
“An Irish romantic.” Max shook his head. He liked this rancher. “You need to tell her how you feel.”
Brody laughed. “If only it were that easy. Have you told Kat how you feel? I didn’t think so. To cowards,” he said and took a drink of his beer.
* * *
OLIVIA “LIVIE” HAMILTON BARNETT had her baby at nine that night. A healthy baby boy named Cooper James Barnett, Jr. after his father. He became C.J. Kat couldn’t believe how small he was.
“You’ve always had to do everything first since we were kids,” Bo had joked. “First one kissed, first one—”
“Bo, not in front of my son,” Livie had cried.
“—married, first one to have a baby,” Bo finished. Jace had put his arm around his soon-to-be wife and said, “There is nothing wrong with second place.” Everyone laughed. It was no secret that Bo and Jace would want to start their family right away.
Kat stood back from the rest of her family, just taking them all in. As sisters growing up, they’d fought like wild mountain lion cubs. But when things got tough, they’d always pulled together as a family. She felt a swell of pride, seeing them all together.
And then her mother entered the room.
She realized then that her father had been watching the door. He�
�d been expecting her because he’d invited her. Of course she would want to see her first grandchild, but Kat still couldn’t help feeling angry. The woman had no right. Now that they knew about her...
She reminded herself that her mother didn’t remember any of that. Or at least that’s what she wanted them to believe.
The others greeted Sarah as her father hurried to her, taking her hand and leading her over to the bed so she could see C.J.
Kat wanted to blurt out who Sarah Johnson Hamilton really was, what she really was, as she picked up the baby. C.J. began to cry, and Sarah quickly handed him back to his mother.
“Kat,” Livie called to her. “You haven’t gotten to hold C.J. yet.”
She shook her head. “I’ll hold him some other time. I might be coming down with a cold.” It was a lie, but right now, she couldn’t be a part of this happy family scene—not with her mother in it.
No one seemed to notice her as she left the room. On the way down the hall, she passed a man in a sheriff’s department uniform. She heard him ask at the nurse’s station where Livie’s room was.
“I’m actually looking for her father, Senator Buckmaster Hamilton.”
The nurse told him he would have to wait.
* * *
THE MOMENT BUCK saw Sarah, all he could think about was getting her alone so they could talk.
As his daughters were oohing and aahing over the baby, he signaled for Sarah to step out of the room with him. Once out in the hall, he led her to a nearby empty waiting room.
“You’re a grandmother,” he said once he had her alone.
She smiled and nodded. “He’s so tiny. So perfect.” There were tears in her eyes. “It reminds me of the twins when they were born.”
Her last memory of their life together. Buck didn’t like being reminded of all the years Sarah had been gone, all that she’d missed. He felt that old bitterness. He’d cursed her to hell for taking her life. He could well imagine how he would have felt back then if he’d known that she was alive, but didn’t want to be with him or her own children.
He studied her for a long moment, wondering if he could overcome all those ill feelings. More to the point, if he could ever trust her. Still, when he looked at her, love was the overwhelming emotion he felt. In time, he told himself they could make this work. They could be a family again.
