by B. J Daniels
“You can’t believe this doll is my doing.”
Why had she thought that her father, a man who lied for living, would be honest with her? Coming here had been a mistake, but then again, she’d had no one else to ask about the doll—or the photo.
She reached into her pocket. She’d come too far to turn around and leave without at least trying to get the truth out of him. “Who are these people in this photograph, and why would someone want me to have it?” she demanded as she pressed the crinkled photo against the Plexiglas between them.
DJ watched all the color drain from his face. Growing up, she’d learned to tell when he was lying. But what she saw now on his face was pain and fear.
His gaze darting away from the photo as he lowered his voice. “I don’t know what this is about, but what would it hurt if you just got out of town for a while?”
She shook her head. “Stop lying to me. You recognize these people. Tell me the truth. Is this my mother? Don’t you think I noticed that she looks like me? Am I that baby?”
“DJ, how is that possible? I told you, your mother died in childbirth.”
“Then this woman isn’t my mother?”
“On my life, you aren’t the baby in that photo.” He crisscrossed his heart. “And those people are not your family.”
She’d been so hopeful. She felt like crying as she peeled the photo off the grimy glass and dropped it back into her bag along with the doll. She’d had to leave her gun in her car and felt naked without it. “But you did recognize the people in the photo.”
He said nothing, which came as little surprise.
“I have no idea why I came here.” She met his gaze. “I knew you’d lie.”
“DJ, whatever you think of me, listen to me now,” he pleaded.
DJ. That had been his nickname for her, and it had stuck. But hearing him say it had her fighting tears. She’d once thought her father was the most amazing man in the world. That had been a very long time ago.
She got to her feet, shaking her head at her own naïveté as she started to put the phone back. She’d fallen for his promises too many times in her life. She’d made a clean break when he’d gone to prison, telling him she never wanted to see him again.
Drawing the phone to her ear, she said, “It is clear to me that you’ve lied to me my whole life. What I don’t know is why. But I’m going to find out.”
“I did the best I could, just the two of us,” her father said, his voice breaking. “I know I could have done better, but, DJ—”
She’d heard this before and couldn’t bear to hear it again. “If I have family—” Growing up, she’d often dreamed of a big, boisterous family. Now, with Christmas coming, she felt nostalgic. If she had family, if that’s why they’d left this for her now...
She’d seen an ad in a magazine of a family around a beautifully decorated tree on Christmas morning. That night she’d prayed to the starlit night that she could be that little girl in the ad.
But her prayer hadn’t been answered, and now she no longer believed in fairy tales. If anything, life had taught her that there were no happy endings.
“DJ, you have to listen to me.” He’d raised his voice. The guard was making his way down the line of booths toward him. “You don’t know how dangerous—”
“Dangerous?” she echoed.
The guard tapped him on the shoulder. “Time to go.”
“DJ—”
“Just tell me the truth.” She hated how vulnerable she sounded. She’d seen his face when he’d looked at the people in the photograph. He had recognized them. But if they were her family, then why had he looked so...hurt, and yet so frightened? Because he’d been caught in a lie? Or because she had something to fear from them?
She’d had to become strong and trust her own instincts for so long... Growing up on the run with her father had taught her how to survive.
That was, until she’d found the doll and the photo of three people she didn’t know, one of them holding a baby who, no matter what he said, was probably her. But what about that would put her in danger?
“Last chance,” she said into the phone.
The guard barked another “Time to go.”
Her father’s gaze locked with hers. She saw pleading in his eyes as he quickly said into the phone, “There’s a reason I lied all these years, but the truth is...you will be hearing from my family in Montana soon. Go to them until you hear from me.” The guard grabbed the phone from her father’s hand and slammed it down.
DJ stood staring at him, his words rooting her to the floor. Her father had family in Montana? She had family? A family that would be contacting her? If this was another lie...
Slowly she hung up her phone as she watched Walter Justice being led away. Frowning, she pulled out the photo. He’s sworn these people weren’t her family. Then who were they? Her mother’s family? A cold dread filled her at the memory of her father’s reaction to the photo.
The doll and the photo proved that they knew about her. That at least someone in that family wanted her to know about them. And now she was going to find them. That she was on her own was nothing new.
And yet the fear she’d seen in her father’s eyes almost burned through her resolve.
* * *
IN BIG SKY, MONTANA, Dana Cardwell Savage braced herself as she pushed open the door to her best friend Hilde’s sewing shop. Christmas music played softly among the rows and rows of rich bolts of fabric. For a moment she slowed to admire the Christmas decorations that Hilde had sewn for the occasion, wishing she had time to sew. She missed quilting and the time she used to spend with Hilde back when they were partners in Needles and Pins.
Seeing her friend at the back, she moved on reluctantly. She needed to tell Hilde the news in person. Her only fear was how her friend was going to respond. Their relationship had taken a beating three years ago. Hilde had only begun to trust her again. And now this.
“Dana!” Hilde saw her and smiled, clearly pleased to see her. Raising four children, Dana rarely got down to the shop that she and Hilde had started together. Hilde had bought her out long since then, but Dana still loved coming down here, where it was so peaceful and quiet.
She moved to the stools by the cash register and pulled one up to sit down. There were several people in the shop, but fortunately, Hilde’s assistant, Veronica “Ronnie” Tate, was helping them.
“Where are the kids?” Hilde asked.
“With Stacy.” She loved that her older sister was so good about taking all of the children to give Dana a break. Stacy’s daughter, Ella, was almost five now. Dana’s twins were four, Mary was eight and her oldest, Hank, was nine. Where had those years gone?
“So, you’re out on the town?” Hilde asked and then seemed to notice how nervous Dana was. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“My cousin Dee Anna Justice, the real one. Except apparently she goes by DJ. I talked to my uncle, Walter, whom I was led to believe was dead.” She didn’t want to bias Hilde against the real Dee Anna Justice any more than she might already be, given the past. But she also couldn’t keep anything from her. “Walter called from prison.”
“Prison?”
Dana nodded. “He assured me that his daughter is nothing like him. In fact, she hadn’t talked to him in years until recently. She doesn’t know she has family, he said. She was never told about us. My uncle was hoping that I would contact her and invite her to come to Montana for the holidays so she can get to know her family.”
Paling, Hilde’s hand went to her protruding stomach and the baby inside her. Three years ago, a young woman claiming to be Dee Anna had come to the ranch. Dana, who had so desperately wanted to connect with a part of her family she hadn’t known even existed, had fallen for the psychopathic, manipulative woman’s lies, and they had all almost paid wit
h their lives.
But Hilde had suffered the most. Dana still couldn’t believe that she’d trusted the woman she thought was her cousin over her best friend. She would never forgive herself. The fake Dee Anna, it turned out, had been the roommate of the real Dee Anna Justice for a short period of time. The roommate had opened a piece of her mail and, since they resembled each other, had pretended to be Dee Anna. Dana had believed that the woman was the real Dee Anna Justice and almost lost everything because of it.
“Why would he keep something like that from her?” Hilde finally asked.
“Because his family had disowned him when he married a woman they didn’t approve of. He thought his family would turn both him and his daughter away, apparently.”
“But now?”
“Now, he said with Christmas coming, he hoped I would reach out to her and not turn her away as his family had done. She doesn’t have any other family, he said.” She saw Hilde weaken.
“I told my uncle about the woman who pretended to be Dee Anna. He was so sorry about what happened,” Dana said quickly. “He said he’d never met DJ’s former roommate, but that he was shocked, and his daughter would be, too, to learn that the woman was capable of the horrible things she did.”
Hilde nodded. “So, you’ve contacted her?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that without talking to you first.”
Her friend took a breath and let it out. “It’s all right.”
“I won’t if it upsets you too much,” Dana said, reaching for Hilde’s hand.
“You’re sure this time she’s the real Dee Anna Justice?”
“Hud ran both her and her father through the system. She has been working as a travel writer, going all over the world to exotic places and writing about them under the pen name DJ Price.” One of the perks of being married to the local marshal was that he wouldn’t let anyone else come to visit without first finding out his or her true identity.
“So Colt knows that the real Dee Anna has turned up?”
The only good thing that had come out of that horrible time three years ago was Deputy Marshal Colt Lawson. He had believed what Hilde was saying about the fake Dee and had ended up saving her life as well as Dana’s and the kids’. Now the two were married, and Dana had never seen Hilde looking happier, especially since she was pregnant with their first child.
“I talked to Colt first. He said it was up to you, but none of us wants to take any chances with this baby or your health.”
Hilde smiled. “I’m as healthy as a horse and the baby is fine. As long as we’re sure this woman is the real Dee Anna and not a murdering psychopath.”
The other Dee, the fake Dee Anna Justice, had set her sights on Dana’s husband, Marshal Hud Savage, planning to replace Dana. So Dana and her children had to go, and Hilde, the interfering friend in the woman’s mentally disturbed mind, along with them. Dana shivered at the memory.
She had nightmares sometimes, thinking they were all still locked in that burning barn. “That Dee Anna is dead and gone.”
Hilde nodded. “But not forgotten.”
“No, not forgotten. It was a lesson I will never forget, and neither will Hud.” She smiled and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I’m just glad you and I are okay.”
“We’re more than okay. I know how much family means to you. Contact your cousin and tell her she’s welcome. I would never stand in the way of you finding more of your relatives on your mother’s side.”
“I want you to meet her. If for any reason you suspect anything strange about her—”
Hilde laughed. “I’ll let you know if she tries to kill me.”
Chapter Three
Beau Tanner had always known the debt would come due, and probably at the worst possible time. He’d dreaded this day since he was ten. Over the years he’d waited, knowing there was no way he could deny whatever request was put to him.
The sins of the father, he thought as he stared at the envelope he’d found in his mailbox this morning. The return address was for an attorney in San Diego, California. But the letter inside was from a California state correction facility prisoner by the name of Walter Justice.
He wondered only idly how the man had found him after all these years, forgetting for a moment the kind of people he was dealing with. Beau could have ended up anywhere in the world. Instead, he’d settled in the Gallatin Canyon, where they’d first met. He suspected Walter had kept track of him, knowing that one day he would demand payment for the debt.
The letter had been sent to his home address here on the ranch—instead of his office. So he knew before he opened it that it would be personal.
Telling himself just to get it over with, Beau studied the contents of the envelope. There were two sheets of paper inside. One appeared to be a travel article about Eleuthera, an island in the Bahamas. The other was a plain sheet of paper with a printed note:
Take care of my daughter, DJ. Flight 1129 from LA arriving in Bozeman, Montana, Thursday at 2:45 p.m. Dana Cardwell Savage will be picking her up and taking her to Cardwell Ranch. I highly advise you not to let her know that you’re watching out for her—and most especially that it was at my request.
It was signed W. Justice.
Under that he’d written, “Cell phone number for emergencies only.”
Today was Thursday. DJ’s flight would be coming in this afternoon. Walter had called it awfully close. What if Beau had been out of town? If he’d questioned whether Walter had kept track of him, he didn’t anymore.
He read the letter again and swore. He had no idea what this was about. Apparently Walter’s daughter needed protection? A small clue would have been helpful. And protection from what? Or was it from whom?
Also, he was surprised Walt’s daughter would be coming to Montana. That was where their paths had crossed all those years ago. He thought of the dark-haired five-year-old girl with the huge brown expressive eyes and the skinny ten-year-old kid he’d been.
He remembered the way she’d looked up at him, how he’d melted into those eyes, how he’d foolishly wanted to rescue her. What a joke. He hadn’t even been able to rescue himself. Like him, she’d been trapped in a life that wasn’t her doing.
“Any mail for me?” asked a sleepy-sounding female voice from behind him.
He folded the letter and article and shoved them into his jean jacket pocket before turning to look at the slim, beautiful blonde leaning against his kitchen counter. “Nope. Look, Leah—”
“I really appreciate you letting me stay here, Beau,” she said, cutting him off. “If this package I have coming wasn’t so important and I wasn’t between places right now...”
Beau nodded, mentally kicking himself for getting involved when she’d shown up on his doorstep. “Leah, I wish you hadn’t put me in the middle of whatever this is.”
“Please, no lectures,” she said, raising a hand. “Especially before I’ve had my coffee. You did make coffee, didn’t you? I remember that you always made better coffee than Charlie.” Her voice broke at Charlie’s name. She turned away from him, but not before he’d seen the tears.
She pulled down a clean cup and poured herself a cup of coffee before turning to him again. He studied her in the steam that rose from the dark liquid. He’d met Leah Barnhart at college when his best friend and roommate, Charlie Mack, had been dating her. The three of them had become good friends. Leah and Charlie had later married and both taken jobs abroad. Over the years, they’d kept in touch for a while, then just an occasional Christmas card. The past few years there hadn’t even been a Christmas card.
No wonder he’d been so surprised and caught off guard to find her standing on his doorstep last night.
“And you’re not in the middle of anything,” she said after taking a long drink of her coffee.
“Why are you here?”<
br />
“I told you. I’m expecting an important package. I happened to be in Montana and thought about our college days...” She met his gaze and shrugged.
He didn’t believe any of it. “Where’s Charlie? You said he’s still in Europe. I need his number.”
She looked away with a sigh. “I don’t have it.”
He glanced at her bare left-hand ring finger. “Are you divorced?”
“No, of course not.” She let out a nervous laugh. “We’re just—It’s a long story, and really not one I’m ready to get into this early in the morning. Can we talk about this later?”
He agreed, since he needed to get to work. DJ Justice would be flying into Montana in a few hours. He had to be ready. He had no idea what was required to keep her safe. It might come down to some extreme measures. Since he didn’t know why she even needed protection—or from whom—now was definitely not the time to have a houseguest, especially one who knew nothing about his life before college. He wanted to keep it that way.
“You don’t decorate for Christmas?” Leah asked as she looked around the large log home he’d built back in a small valley in the mountains not far from Big Sky. He’d bought enough land that he could have horses—and privacy. That was another reason he’d been surprised to find her on his doorstep. His place wasn’t that easy to find.
He raked a hand through his thick, unruly mop of blond hair. “I’ve never been one for holidays.”
She nodded. “I thought you’d at least have had a tree and some lights.”
He glanced at his watch. “If you need anything, call my office and talk to Marge.”
Leah made a face. “I called your office on my way here. Marge scares me.”
He doubted that. He’d known Leah a lifetime ago. Was this woman standing in his kitchen the same Leah he’d toasted when she and Charlie had married? “Marge is a little protective.”