A problem, since she wasn’t letting a man anywhere near her heart, mind or soul for the foreseeable future. She’d thought Holt had broken her heart ten years ago? Getting left at the altar in her wedding gown had been a hundred times more painful because it had taken her so long to find Tyler, to let herself give into her feelings for him, to open up. Then whammo, bye.
But if she’d thought ten years and a two-year-old broken spirit would have protected her from seeing Holt again, she was dead wrong. She’d barely gotten through the twenty minutes she’d spent in the Dalton boys’ company.
That Holt was a dad wasn’t a surprise. Back at camp, he hadn’t been a counselor; he’d worked in the kitchen, but any time he had been around her campers, he’d been so warm and fun and kind to them. He hadn’t ignored them or spoken down to them, hadn’t been turned off by their special needs—and those issues had varied. He’d treated her campers like the individuals they were.
Maybe she’d tell Daphne she couldn’t do the interview and photo session with Holt and his son—and come clean as to why. She and Daphne had become friends. Daphne, daughter of the richest family in town, had nonetheless been through her own share of life and would definitely understand. Amanda pulled out her phone but then put it back. Nope. She was a professional. Daphne was a great client, kept her very busy, and Amanda wasn’t going to let her personal life get in the way. She’d just be all business when she went to Dalton’s Grange, and that would be that. Holt had been in a town a year and she hadn’t run into him, so after their interview and photo session, certainly another year could go by without her seeing him. Or his cute son. Or their precious new family members, Oliver and Bentley.
Feeling more in control of herself, she started her car, just in time to see Robby Dalton, his brown bangs blowing in the late-afternoon breeze, come out of the barn with Bentley on a navy leash, a matching collar around his neck. Amanda could see they’d already gotten Bentley his own name tag in the shape of a silver bone. Holt came out behind his son and called out to Robby to be mindful of the cars, but their truck was parked right by the barn. Amanda ducked down a bit, unable to drive away, unable to stop watching them. Holt was carrying the cat carrier in one hand, and two Happy Hearts reusable tote bags, filled to the brim, were dangling off his other wrist. Robby walked Bentley over to the grassy area in front of the truck as Holt put the carrier and bags on the floor of the back seat so that Oliver wouldn’t be jostled, then Robby and Bentley got in.
When they drove away, Amanda realized she wanted to follow them, watch them introduce their new pets to their home. She shook her head at herself and turned on the radio to her favorite country station, as always playing a song about a love gone wrong. That would set her straight.
* * *
“Amanda, put on your dancing shoes!” Brittany called out as she came into the kitchen of the condo they shared. As always, Brittany Brandt looked fabulous in a strapless, billowy red jumpsuit and sky-high silver heels. Tall and willowy with light brown skin and long black curly hair, the thirty-three-year-old event planner—for Bronco Heights Elite Parties, no less—had just gotten home from work for a quick refresh of her makeup, change of outfit and a dab of her favorite perfume, which smelled heavenly. Brittany’s social calendar was always packed, whereas Amanda’s revolved around whatever binge-worthy TV shows she might watch. “DJ’s is having a fund-raiser and I’ve put you on the guest list,” Brittany said. “Wear something swishy.”
Amanda stopped midpour of the hot water from the kettle onto her herbal tea. She ran her free hand down her body, indicating her polka-dot yoga pants, long tank top, and socks with the cartoon owls. She did love DJ’s Deluxe—the very popular upscale rib joint where their next-door neighbor, Mel, used to be the manager before taking a big role as CFO of DJ’s, Incorporated—but after running into Holt she had zero appetite. “I’ve got a date with Poindexter tonight. There’s a documentary on the history of Montana on that I’ve been meaning to catch. It even covers Bronco and the ‘unexplained phenomenon’ and ghost tours.” Bronco had quite the history. No wonder it was always on “Best of the West” lists of places to visit and live.
Brittany raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not gonna lie. That sounds good too. I wouldn’t mind putting on my jammies and curling up on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn. But work calls! Sure you don’t want to go? Lots of hot single men will be there.” She grinned and flipped back her gorgeous wild long hair.
“I’m sure. Have fun, Brittany.”
“I’ll try to be quiet when I come in,” her sweet roommate said, gave Poindexter a scratch on the back, then headed out.
Amanda looked at Poindexter. “Brittany and I sure are going to have different nights, Poin.”
Her cat started grooming himself. Some conversationalist. Then again, if Amanda had wanted conversation, she’d be at DJ’s with Brittany and a couple hundred of Bronco Heights residents. She hadn’t shared too much of her romantic past with Brittany—Amanda just hated talking about it—but her roommate knew she’d been through the love wringer. The interesting thing about bubbly, constantly going-out Brittany was that she wasn’t looking for a husband because she wasn’t sure she wanted to have kids. The eldest of five siblings, her roommate liked single life and wasn’t interested in a family of her own. Yet, Amanda figured. Men loved Brittany, and one day someone would likely turn her head even if Brittany wasn’t too sure it was possible.
So Brittany liked dating but didn’t want it to go anywhere because her biological clock was definitely not ticking, and Amanda’s was ticking out of control but she hated dating because it either led nowhere or straight to heartache. No wonder they got along so well despite being very different. They were simpatico.
Amanda was about to turn on the History of Montana when her doorbell rang. She popped up and headed to the door. Her neighbor, Melanie Driscoll, dressed to kill like Brittany, stood there.
“Wow, you look amazing, Mel!” Amanda said, admiring her gorgeous hot pink dress—swishy indeed—and her sophisticated blond chignon. Mel’s diamond engagement ring shone on her finger. Her friend had recently gotten engaged to Gabe Abernathy, from a prominent ranching family in Bronco Heights.
“I guess this—” she swept a hand down Amanda’s outfit “—means you’re not coming?” She grinned, knowing the answer would be no. Amanda stayed home unless she had to be somewhere for business reasons or to support a friend. And with the wealthiest ranchers in Bronco attending the fund-raiser tonight, her friends were all set.
“Poindexter and I are watching a documentary,” she said. “It’s been a long day. Trust me.”
Mel’s pretty blue eyes were sympathetic. “I get it. Listen, Amanda, I’m here because I’m ready to take you up on your offer to find out what you can about Josiah and Winona’s long-lost baby.”
Amanda squeezed Mel’s hand. Not long ago, Mel had asked for Amanda’s help with a very poignant family mystery, but then had asked her to hold off just in case Mel herself found any new information.
“I haven’t been able to learn anything new,” Mel said, “and all my searches have gotten me nowhere.”
“Can you refresh my memory?” Amanda asked. “I just want to be sure I have it all straight in my head.”
Mel nodded. “Beatrix Abernathy is the long-lost daughter of relatives of Gabe’s. His great-grandfather, Josiah, kept a diary that was found buried under floorboards in the old Ambling A out in Rust Creek Falls, which his family abandoned before moving to Bronco decades ago. The new owners of that ranch were deeply touched by the seventy-plus-year-old old diary and its beautiful love story. Turns out, when Josiah Abernathy was a teenager, he had a secret love, a girl named Winona Cobbs, who’d always been on the ‘delicate’ side. Winona got pregnant, and I’m not sure of all the details, but she was institutionalized after she was told her baby died. But that was a lie.”
“Oh my heart,” Amanda said. “I
wish you could say that true love won out, that mother, father and baby were reunited. I totally understand why trying to find Beatrix is so important to you and Gabe.”
Mel’s eyes clouded, and Amanda could see how affected her neighbor was by the story. “I keep thinking about poor Winona. How when she delivered, she was told her baby was stillborn and that Josiah learned that the baby was alive and well. How he wanted to raise her, but he was forced to place her for adoption. And remember, in a letter to Winona found tucked into the diary, Josiah wrote that he figured out who adopted his daughter and that someday, he’d bring her home. But I’ve done some digging, and no one has ever heard of a Beatrix Abernathy. So clearly, Josiah wasn’t able to reunite with the baby. I want to find her—Beatrix. I have to find her.”
“And that’s where my online skills and I come in,” Amanda said. “I can help. I can try, anyway.”
Mel nodded. “Thanks, Amanda. This is personal for me on two counts. As you know, I’m going to be an Abernathy. And as I said when I first told you about all this, I know and adore Winona—she lives near my parents—she’s wonderful but definitely is delicate. She used to be the town psychic and was often written off as an oddball.” She shook her head. “She’s not doing too well these days. And Josiah is in a nursing home with Alzheimer’s. Can you imagine how surprised Gabe and I were when, in a moment of absolute lucidity, Josiah remembered his baby and asked me and Gabe to find her? But I can’t so I’m seriously hoping that with your online skills, your sleuthing will find her. The baby was likely born in Rust Creek Falls over seventy years ago and then given up for adoption.”
“And Josiah didn’t say anything in the diary that might help locate her?” Amanda asked.
“No. All I have on that end is the letter that was tucked inside. I can recite that verbatim. It said, ‘My dearest Winona, please forgive me. But they say you will never get better. I promise you that your baby daughter is safe. She’s alive! I wanted to raise her myself, but my parents forced me to have her placed for adoption. She’s with good people—my parents don’t know, but I have figured out who they are. Someday, I will find a way to bring her back to you.’”
Amanda felt tears poke the backs of her eyes. “Oh, Mel. We have to find that baby girl!”
Mel nodded. “We have to. I’m not saying a word to Winona about it until her long-lost daughter is found—if she’s found. But I just know this is important.”
“I’ll do everything I can to find a connection,” Amanda said, already thinking how she could go about it. Time frames, hospitals, adoption agencies. Even putting out a general feeler could bring forth leads.
Mel bit her lip. “One major reason why I haven’t gotten anywhere is because the psychiatric institution where Winona was sent in Kalispell burned down forty years ago. I wish I had more for you to go on.”
Amanda frowned. If the records were gone, then so was any information about why Winona had been sent to that place and details about the baby. Finding Beatrix Abernathy would definitely be harder. She grabbed her phone. “I want to input all of this into my notes app again while it’s all fresh in my mind, especially the letter you recited. Can you repeat it—slowly?”
Mel did, and again Amanda’s heart clenched with Josiah’s clear love for Winona and his determination to reunite with her and their baby girl.
“And you know what else is interesting about the story, Amanda? It seems like everyone who’s had something to do with the diary has been truly touched by the story. Hey, who knows? Maybe the diary will bring some romance into your life. If anyone had told me that after all Gabriel Abernathy and I had been through that we would actually end up engaged...”
Holt Dalton flashed into Amanda’s mind. There was no way their brief reunion, even with a future meeting for the interview and photos for the Happy Hearts website, would go anywhere. Because Amanda wouldn’t let it. Love—the love she’d felt for Holt, the love she’d felt for Tyler—meant eventually hurting in a way she couldn’t bear to go through again. Twice burned, quadruply shy. If that wasn’t a saying, it should be.
Amanda smiled. “Well, I don’t know about that, Mel, but I’ve got a whole night to see what I can do with my social media skills. I’ll be discreet and put out some feelers. I’ll keep it to surnames only for a start and see what it leads to.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Amanda.” Her phone pinged. “Gah. Being CFO of a company means always being on duty. Couple fires to put out, and I’m supposed to be heading out to the party at DJ’s. Brittany already leave?”
Amanda nodded. “Yup, you know she likes to be the first on scene of every event she runs.”
“Thank God for Brittany. Thanks again, Amanda. See you, Poindexter,” she added to the cat, who stood beside Amanda staring up at Mel.
Amanda smiled and shut the door. The documentary on Montana could wait. She had a very interesting mystery to help solve. That would keep her mind off Holt Dalton for sure. For a little while anyway.
Her phone pinged with a text, and she was sure it would be Mel with something she wanted to add about the Winona and Josiah mystery. But it was Holt Dalton.
Got your number from Happy Hearts. I could really use your help. Oliver ran under Robby’s bed when we got home and now Bentley’s under there too and Robby’s worried they both hate him and his room. Robby keeps asking if that “nice Amanda” can come talk to them. Can she? P.S. Sorry if this is way out of bounds. I’ll understand.
She swallowed. Oh boy.
Dalton’s Grange, right? she texted back. She quickly called it up on her maps app. All the time, the past year, he was right there. I can be over in fifteen minutes.
You’re a lifesaver. Log cabin with the bright blue door a half mile back from the main house, nestled in the woods. Tire swing hanging from the big oak out front. Can’t miss it.
See you soon, she texted back.
Appreciate it. He added an emoji of a smiley face in a cowboy hat.
She stared at the cowboy smiley face. Careful, girl, she told herself. This is not a guy to be trusted. Don’t let a cute kid and two animals you’ve loved since they came into Happy Hearts get you overinvolved with Holt Dalton.
Cowboy heartbreaker extraordinaire.
Chapter Three
When the doorbell rang, Oliver was still under the bed—way under—and so was Bentley. Robby was in tears, lying on the floor, head smushed in the crook of his elbow as he’d long given up trying to coax them out.
“Hey, Robby,” Holt said. “I’ll bet that’s Amanda. Want to come to the door with me?”
Robby lifted his head. “I’ll wait here. I don’t want Bentley and Oliver to think I went away.”
Holt nodded and went to the door, barely able to believe that when he opened it, Amanda Jenkins would be standing there. The woman he’d never forgotten.
He’d thought a ringing doorbell would have brought at least Bentley barking and running, but nope, he’d tried that ten minutes ago, and Bentley had stayed put, silent as could be next to his buddy.
Holt opened the door—and whoa. Despite being ten years older, Amanda, in a casual summer outfit of white jeans and a black tank top with a ruffle down the center, looked so much like the girl he’d loved. She wore flat silver sandals, and her toenails were painted a sparkly pink. Her long, lush hair was in a low ponytail, her neck and shoulders exposed. She was so pretty—and sexy.
“Thanks for coming out,” Holt said.
“I have to admit, I stood on your porch for a good five minutes staring at the cabin and then up at the main house and the property,” she said. “Wow does not do Dalton’s Grange justice.”
The property was definitely spectacular. When his dad said he’d found their ranch, a place for all of them to build the cattle empire they’d always talked about, Holt hadn’t expected this. Nestled into the mountains, the main house, which looked like a log mansion, caught his breath
every time he passed it. His own house, a miniature version of the main house but still large and comfortable for him and his son—and now a dog and cat—had instantly felt like home. Holt had always been a cowboy through and through, and the log cabin, upscale though it was with its floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace and expert craftsmanship, spoke to him.
“It’s so peaceful,” he said. “When my head is about to explode, I just have to look up and take in all this wilderness, the mountains, the trees, the cattle, and I can breathe again.”
“Is your head often about to explode?”
He nodded.
She stared at him for a moment. “Then I’m glad all you have to do is look around you. Other than try to find peace in a lot more destructive or expensive ways.”
“Daddy, is that Amanda?” Robby called out. “Can she come to talk to Bentley and Oliver?”
“Aww,” she said. “They’re still under the bed, huh?”
“Yup.” He gestured for her to come in, and she followed him into the hall, looking all around. “Wow again. This place is incredible. I love everything. It’s so wide open yet cozy at the same time.”
He watched her take in the vaulted wood ceilings and arched doorways, the warm, colorful rugs and the big leather sofas in the living room, the grand, curved stairway with its tribal treads and photo gallery covering the wall all the way up. “Robby’s room is upstairs.”
“Four brothers,” she said, eyeing the photos of him, Morgan, Boone, Dale and Shep over the years. “I guess the family must have expanded a lot in the past ten years. How many cousins does Robby have?”
“None. My brothers are all single and seem to like it that way. And my ex was an only so no cousins for Robby on that side, either.”
“Well, in time I guess the Dalton brothers will settle down. You’re so lucky to have a big family. I’m an only myself, as you know, and my parents were onlies, and both sets of grandparents are gone. My parents are all I have, but they retired to Arizona so I don’t see them as often I’d like.”
The Cowboy's Comeback (Montana Mavericks: What Happened To Beatrix? Book 2) Page 3