Montana Connection

by B. J Daniels

  “Mother thought you might like to join us for breakfast,” Drew said as he tried to see past Ford into the room. “Unless you have other plans. Then we’re all going to the hospital to see how Liam is doing.”

  Obviously Drew had discovered Rozalyn wasn’t in her bedroom and thought she might be here. “Please give my apologies to your mother but I do have other plans.”

  Drew glanced at Ford’s still damp dark hair. “Mother will be disappointed,” he said, sounding angry.

  “Tell her thanks for the invite. Maybe some other time.” Ford closed the door and watched with too much satisfaction as Drew scowled and turned to head back through the garden to the house.

  Ford reminded himself that if he was right, someone had drugged Rozalyn last night and got her up on that widow’s walk railing. That someone could have been Drew Lane. But now wasn’t the time to confront him about the chocolates. First Ford had to be sure they’d been drugged.

  He hoped Drew would think that Rozalyn was under his watchful eye—if not in his bed. Both were a lie. But then, Drew didn’t know that, did he?

  As Ford left the house, he thought about what else? Rozalyn Sawyer. What if she really had been at the top of that waterfall last night to jump? What if she hadn’t been sleepwalking or drugged? What if she was more damaged by her mother’s death than even he was by his father’s?

  Then the urine sample he had sealed in a container on the seat beside him wouldn’t show any drugs, he thought as he drove to the lab and dropped it off. The lab tech put a rush on it for the hundred-dollar incentive Ford offered. He left his cell phone number and the tech promised to get back to him as soon as possible.

  Ford picked up three egg-muffin specials at Betty’s Café and washed down one on his way to the hospital with one of the two coffees he’d purchased.

  A different nurse was at the desk.

  “Any change in Liam Sawyer’s condition?” he asked.

  “The same,” she said as he headed down the hall to Liam’s room. As far as he could tell, Liam was the hospital’s only patient.

  From the doorway he saw Rozalyn beside her father’s bed, holding his hand, her head bent toward him, talking quietly. Ford motioned to Jesse to come out.

  “Hey, breakfast,” the deputy said. “Thanks, man.” He snarfed down the egg and ham muffins and gulped the coffee Ford had brought him.

  “I thought you might need a break,” Ford said.

  “A short one,” Jesse agreed and grinned before sprinting down the hall to the men’s lavatory.

  Ford stood outside the hospital room door, watching Rozalyn with her father, touched by her tenderness, worried what it would do to her to lose another parent now. He cursed himself as he realized he liked her more all the time and didn’t want to see her hurt.

  But she would be hurt, he reminded himself.

  Jesse returned, his face washed shiny, his long hair wet and tied back again in a ponytail.

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone today,” Ford said.

  “No problem. Everything’s cool here. Mitch said he’d stop by to relieve me later. Thanks for breakfast.” He slipped back into the hospital room. Rozalyn didn’t seem to notice.

  Ford left, reminding himself that it was just a matter of time before Rozalyn learned the truth about him—even if the thief who took the computer disk didn’t rat him out.

  And then there would be no convincing her that he wasn’t everything she thought he was.

  He just hoped to hell he knew what he was doing. A lot was riding on this. He slid behind the wheel of his pickup and started the engine. He’d better quit thinking about Rozalyn Sawyer and go to work.

  But first he had to find out if what he feared about her just might be true.

  * * *

  CHARITY HAD just taken a bite of her banana cream pie when she heard the bell tinkle over the front door of Betty’s Café. She closed her eyes. For months now, whenever she ate something rich and wonderful and closed her eyes, she had visions of Sheriff Mitch Tanner. Lately, he was always dressed in a tuxedo and—be still her racing heart—he was standing in front of an altar at the church and he was looking at her, smiling, as if he loved her more than even he could imagine.

  “Morning, Charity,” Mitch said, taking his usual stool next to her.

  She opened her eyes and turned to smile at him. “Good morning, Sheriff.” Mitch seemed to think he still had a chance of remaining a bachelor. Men could be such fools.

  “I saw the paper this morning,” he said after Betty slid a cup of coffee and a slice of banana cream pie in front of him without a word and took off as if she knew all hell was going to break loose any moment. Betty knew the two of them well—and had seen today’s Timber Falls Courier.

  Plus Mitch had a copy of the newspaper gripped in his right hand. “Charity,” he said under his breath. “I thought I warned you about printing anything that could get you killed.”

  She looked over at him in surprise. “You think it’s that good?”

  He groaned. “Do you have a death wish, woman?”

  “You said yourself we might never know the truth about the kidnapping unless we rattle a few cages,” she whispered back.

  “I believe you just misquoted me,” he said through gritted teeth. “I said we might never know the truth. Period. The cage rattling was all yours.”

  “I stand corrected.” She smiled at him. “The banana cream pie is amazing this morning.” She took another bite and licked her lips.

  His dark eyes softened as he watched her, desire sparking in them. Finally, he shook his head as if at something he just couldn’t believe. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Oh, I have some great ideas.”

  “I’m sure you do.” He picked up his fork and took a bite of his pie. “I think you’d better get your Aunt Florie to come stay with you until this blows over.”

  Oh no, they’d been here before. “Not Florie. Look what happened last time.”

  Last time Mitch had not only had her Aunt Florie staying with her, but also a deputy, and she’d still been abducted and almost killed.

  “You’re right,” he said. “Protecting you from yourself is impossible.”

  “There is only one man who can protect me,” she said and took a forkful of pie, closing her eyes, waiting to see that image of Mitch in the tux. She opened her eyes and winked at him.

  “Don’t start,” Mitch said but there was no humor in his tone.

  She took another bite of pie, closed her eyes and saw Mitch at the altar again. She did love him in a tux.

  When she opened her eyes he was studying her as if he wondered where she’d gone and what she’d seen behind those closed eyelids. If he only knew.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said.

  “Do you?” he asked, sounding as if he hoped that wasn’t the case.

  “I’m a journalist. It’s like a degree in human nature.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You have a degree in nosy is all.”

  She shrugged and smiled. “You might be surprised.” She picked up her fork and took a bite of her pie, closing her eyes, waiting for that image of Mitch in the tux.

  “I think you should move in with me.”

  Her eyes flew open. “You’re that worried about Wade?”

  “I wasn’t thinking about Wade.”

  She cocked her head at him, her heart hammering in her chest. “What exactly are you proposing, Mitch Tanner?”

  His dark gaze held hers. He looked nervous as hell. “I think…I think we should be together right now.”

  Easy, heart. Okay, it was progress. Just not the progress she’d hoped for. A date and he thought they should move in together?

  “You’re saying you want to take this to the next step or that you’re just trying to protect me?” she asked carefully, trying not to start cheering wildly.

  He looked around the café. No one was sitting close by but still he seemed to have trouble saying the words. “All
I think about is kissing you,” he whispered. “It’s driving me crazy. I want to make love to you. In a bed. And I don’t want to leave afterward and go home. I want you there when I wake up in the morning and when I go to bed at night.”

  She couldn’t catch her breath. How many years had she wished he’d say those words, dreamed he would, waited for him to?

  There was just one problem. She wanted to do this right. She came from a family of alternative thinkers, a hippie mom, a fortune-telling aunt, two sisters who spent more time moving in and out of apartments with different boyfriends than Mayflower movers.

  But just the thought of going to bed and waking up in Mitch’s arms was almost more than she could take. Tears stung her eyes. “Could you be a little more specific?”

  He looked past her. “Here comes Roz,” he said, sounding relieved. “I have to go anyway. We’ll talk later.”

  She wanted to scream no! “Aren’t you even going to finish your pie?” she asked, afraid she’d only dreamed this conversation.

  “No, but I’m sure you won’t let it go to waste.” Then he did something so out of character it left her speechless—a natural occurrence in its own right. He bent close and kissed her. A quick kiss but right on the lips and then he was gone, saying hello to Roz on his way out.

  Charity stared after him, in surprise and delight. She really was making progress with that man. Who would have guessed after all these years?

  Her gaze shifted to her old friend. “Roz,” she cried, jumping up from the stool and rushing to give her a hug. She would see Mitch later and with a lot of luck, he would finally get up the guts to say the “M” word: marriage.

  * * *

  FORD LANCASTER worked his way down the embankment at Lost Creek Falls, telling himself he was crazier than Rozalyn Sawyer—which was saying a lot.

  The slope was treacherous, steep and slippery with moss and spray from the waterfall. He clung to rocks and tree limbs and did his best to keep his feet under him. To make matters worse, he was quickly soaked to the skin from the spray.

  He slid down the last few feet to the creek bottom and stood for a moment looking back up at the waterfall—and the huge rock at the top where he’d first met Rozalyn the night before. Just seeing how far up it was made him dizzy and sick to his stomach. If she had fallen or been pushed—

  He didn’t even want to think about that. Maybe he hadn’t rescued her, hadn’t saved her life. Maybe she would have kept her footing and not fallen from the top of the waterfall—let alone jumped. Maybe she wouldn’t have done a swan dive off the widow’s walk railing last night, either.

  But that was why he was here, wasn’t it? He told himself he just didn’t know and if there was one thing he hated, it was not being one hundred percent certain. It’s why he’d become a scientist.

  Next to him the water churned and splashed over the rocks, roaring on down the narrow canyon. He stared into the deep green holes as he walked from the base of the waterfall downstream. He was looking for a yellow raincoat, one he didn’t expect to find. How crazy was that?

  He shook his head, disgusted with himself. He had better things to do and little time. But he wanted desperately to believe her. That was the bottom line, wasn’t it? He wanted to believe a woman who didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth—and shouldn’t. If he wasn’t crazy, he damned sure was some kind of fool.

  He moved along the slick moss-covered wet rocks, following the creek as it cut down through the gorge. He told himself he wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for that detour sign. This morning he’d checked. There was only one road off the highway and that came to a dead end here at the falls. He’d called the road department as well.

  No mistake. Whoever had put that detour sign there hadn’t been authorized to do so.

  No, he thought, the person who’d put it there had wanted to get someone to turn off to the falls last night.

  Him? Or Rozalyn? There hadn’t been anyone else on the highway and with the pouring rain and the lack of traffic this time of year, Ford didn’t think it was just an idle prank. Someone had known they would be driving up this way last night and had been waiting for them.

  Except he didn’t think the detour sign had been put there for him. That meant someone had wanted Rozalyn to see a suicide from the top of the waterfall. And it was too much of a coincidence that Rozalyn’s mother had also jumped to her death.

  It was a wild theory given he had no proof. Especially for a scientist who operated on fact. Ford prided himself on only believing in things he could see and prove.

  But dammit, he’d seen a detour sign in the middle of that highway last night. That’s why he’d turned off onto the dead-end road. And that’s why Rozalyn had followed him. Unfortunately, she’d been the only one to see someone jump from the falls. Because he’d already turned around and was leaving the waterfall parking lot last night. He shouldn’t have seen anything. If he hadn’t just happened to look in his side mirror—

  Around several bends in the creek, the falls became only a dull roar in the distance. The water slowed, pooling and circling in the rocks. He was no longer looking for just a yellow raincoat anymore. He was looking for a body. If there had been a detour sign, then there’d been a jumper and that meant there was a body down here somewhere.

  And that meant that Rozalyn hadn’t imagined it.

  He turned another bend, not sure how far he’d gone when he caught a glimpse of something that stopped his heart dead. He swore, slipping and almost falling as he stumbled forward. No yellow raincoat. No, not even close.

  In a narrow space between two large rocks were wedged the fingers of a slim hand, the nails painted bright red.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Roz hugged Charity and they started chattering as if they’d seen each other only yesterday rather than several months before.

  “Let’s go sit in a booth,” Charity suggested, grabbing a piece of half-eaten banana cream pie and her diet cola. She didn’t look any different than she had the last time Roz had seen her in Seattle a few years ago. Except she seemed to glow with happiness.

  Roz hadn’t missed that kiss the sheriff had given Charity. “I see some things haven’t changed,” she said as they slid into a booth.

  Charity grinned. “Can you believe it? I might convince Mitch that I’m the only woman for him yet.” She sobered and reached across the table to clutch her hand. “Oh, Roz, I was so sorry to hear about your dad.”

  Roz had forgotten how fast news traveled in Timber Falls. “He’s going to come out of the coma and be all right.”

  “Of course he is,” Charity agreed. “I’m sure he is just so glad you’re here. Just as I am. The last time I saw your dad was a few weeks ago when I accosted him on the street. This black pickup had been following me and your dad was driving a black pickup—”

  “Someone was following you?”

  Charity waved that off. “Long story. Anyway, it wasn’t the same black pickup obviously. Rather embarrassing since your dad’s new wife was with him.”

  “So you met Emily.” She didn’t have to ask Charity what she thought; she knew her friend too well.

  Betty came over to say hello and take Roz’s order and then they were finally alone again.

  “What’s this I hear about Ford Lancaster staying at your guest house?” Charity whispered.

  “It’s a long story.” She felt her cheeks flush.

  “A long story I’m going to have to hear some time. He really is good-looking, isn’t he? I saw him when he was in town a couple of weeks ago. Didn’t Emily know who he was?”

  “She says she didn’t.” Roz frowned. “Ford was in town two weeks ago?”

  “Ford, is it?” Charity grinned. “Two weeks ago almost to the day. He was sitting right over there at that table by the window. I couldn’t believe it when I saw him and Betty told me who he was.”

  Roz couldn’t believe her ears. He hadn’t mentioned being in Timber Falls before. “You’re sure it was Ford Lan
caster?”

  “Tall, dark and intense?” Charity said.

  “That’s him. But you left out conceited, rude and generally nasty.” Except in the shower. “Charity, he thinks my father’s fall wasn’t an accident. He thinks someone might have pushed him. We’re going up into the mountains this morning to see if we can find any evidence.” She didn’t mention the “bones” her father had supposedly found right before his “accident.”

  “We?” Charity echoed.

  “Don’t get any ideas. I wouldn’t trust Ford as far as I could throw him.” Ford had left out the part about him being here two weeks ago. Before her father had gone into the woods? Or right after?

  “It seems odd he would be worried about your father.”

  “Doesn’t it though. It turns out that Ford is the son of John Wells, Dad’s good friend who used to hike with him? Ford’s parents divorced when he was young and his mother remarried, thus the Lancaster.”

  “Aha,” Charity said. “So he wrote that article about your father’s photos—and his father. Oooo, small world, huh?”

  Roz nodded. “Tell me about it. Not only that, strange things have been happening ever since I hit town. Even before I arrived.” She told Charity about what she’d seen at Lost Creek Falls.

  “Roz, that’s horrible.”

  “And last night…” She sighed. “I walked in my sleep.” She didn’t want to get into all the details, especially the part about Ford Lancaster saving her—again—if he was to be believed. Or about the possibility that she’d been drugged—if she actually had been.

  “I’m not sure of anything or anyone at this point,” Roz admitted. “Especially Ford Lancaster. He seems to always turn up whenever I need him.”

  Charity quirked a brow. “Not a bad thing to have in a man.”

  Roz had to laugh. “You are such a romantic. Ford Lancaster is the most arrogant, infuriating, obstinate man I’ve ever met.”

  “So you say,” Charity said with a half smile.

  Wishing she hadn’t let the friendship lapse, Roz reached across the table for Charity’s hand. “It really is good to see you. I missed you so much, but after my mother…died, I just couldn’t face Timber Falls.”