The sheriff promised to call Cole and inform him of the damaged window, and Gage continued a sweep of the property. He found little else to indicate who might have broken the window or why. At the stable, he found the man he’d seen on the security monitor, still with the same restless horse. After introducing himself, Gage asked if the hand, who said his name was Ben Radley, had seen or heard anything just before the alarm went off.
Ben shook his head. “I’ve been busy all night with Blaze here. He’s got colic, and all my attention has been on him.”
As far as Gage knew, colic was something that made babies cranky, but he didn’t bother to ask why the horse’s case needed full-time care.
“That alarm sure did startle us, though. What’s all the ruckus?” the ranch hand asked.
Gage explained about the broken window, then asked, “So why didn’t you go with the others on the roundup?”
“Cole asked me to stay and take care of things here.” Ben stroked the horse’s nose. “Good thing, too, with Blaze showin’ up with colic.”
Gage glanced down the stall and noticed a couple of other horses and a fat black cat curled up at the other end of the building.
“Why didn’t they take those other horses with them on roundup?” he asked.
Ben shrugged. “Well, Hermes has a lame foot, and Spike over there is too young to work still.” The ranch hand tapped his cowboy hat back and grinned. “Besides, nowadays ranchers use trucks and four-wheelers and so forth as often as not.”
Blaze gave a loud whinny and tried to lie down, but Ben yanked up on the horse’s bridle and forcibly kept the horse on his feet. “Oh, no you don’t, buddy. Stay up.”
Seeing the man had his hands full, Gage asked Ben to keep an eye out for any unusual activity and left him to his task with the sick horse.
When he reached the main house, he headed back to the security office and radioed Bart in the wine cellar. “All clear.”
“Roger that,” the other bodyguard’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie.
When the senator, Bart and the housekeeper emerged from the basement, Gage filled them in on what he and the sheriff had found.
“Well, Pumpkin and I have had all the excitement we want for one day. Good night, all,” Hannah said as she carried the big orange cat off to the back of the house.
Hank, too, wasted no time heading back to his guest suite, and Bart and Gage escorted him down the hall. In light of the breach of the alarm system, Gage performed a quick search of the senator’s bedroom and bath before allowing the man back inside. The senator’s cell phone rang as Gage cleared him to enter the suite, and Gage wondered who would be calling at this late hour.
Hank answered the cell, and his face hardened when the caller spoke.
“What do you want?” Hank’s icy tone caught Gage’s attention as he was leaving for his own guest room.
Gage exchanged a look with Bart. Could the call have repercussions for the senator’s safety? A clue as to who had broken the window at the bunkhouse?
And where was the charming and charismatic man who’d been reelected to the U.S. senate five times? Gage knew the man was under stress, having his daughter kidnapped and his own life threatened, but he had yet to see much evidence of the suave, gentleman senator that the media had portrayed for years.
“After the way you sold me out to the press? You’ve got to be kidding!” Hank scoffed. “My wife left me, you know.”
The senator tunneled fingers through his hair and dropped onto the edge of his bed. “Forget it. It’s too late for that.”
Color suffused Hank’s face, and Bart sent Gage another curious look.
“No.” The senator sighed heavily. “Don’t cry. I hate that. And I won’t let you blackmail me with these veiled threats.”
Gage checked his watch. His shift officially started in five hours, and he wanted to catch some z’s before then. But if the senator’s call was half as dramatic as it sounded, the caller could be a danger to the senator.
“No. It’s over, Gloria. Even if I wanted to pick up where we ended things, don’t you think the press is watching me like a hawk? No, I can’t meet you. I’m not in town.”
Gage tensed. Crap. Who was the senator talking to? He’d just spilled a key bit of information that could compromise his safety. He gave the senator a stern glare, signaling him to hang up, but Hank only turned his back to Gage.
“No, Gloria. I’m sorry. I can’t. I’ve got too much heat on me as it is. Don’t call again.” Finally, Hank disconnected and faced his bodyguards’ unhappy stares.
“You told her you weren’t in town,” Bart grated in an even tone before Gage could. “Have you listened to anything we’ve said? What good does it do to tuck you away up here in Podunk, Montana, if you tell everyone where you are?”
Hank squared his shoulders. “I didn’t tell her where I was. Only that I wasn’t at home.”
“So who was that? What was it about?” Gage asked.
Hank glared at Gage. “It was private business.”
“Senator, you have no private business until this threat against you has been resolved,” Bart said.
Senator Kelley huffed loudly. “Fine. Her name is Gloria Cosgrove and…she’s one of the women I had a thing with recently. She wants to see me. Wants to get back together. I said no. She got weepy and begged for a meet. I told her it was over and not to call again.” The senator pulled a face that said, There. Are you happy now? “But then you heard all that, didn’t you?”
Gloria Cosgrove. Gage made a mental note to check the woman out.
“Just be careful. The less people know about you, the safer you are,” Bart said.
The senator scowled and stalked toward the bottle of Maker’s Mark on the desk.
“I’ll be in my room,” Gage told Bart as he left the senator’s suite, his neck tense and his jaw aching from clenching his teeth.
Bart followed him into the hall. “You know, I was thinking about that security alarm tonight. What if it was a test?”
Gage frowned. “What kind of test?”
“What if whoever triggered the alarm was watching our response?”
Gage mulled the idea, a sharp gnawing in his gut. “You mean, looking for weaknesses in the system?”
“Right. A dry run as it were.”
The idea sent a prickle down the back of Gage’s neck. “Certainly a possibility we can’t ignore.”
“What’s your gut telling you about this woman that just called? Problem for us?”
Gage shrugged. “A woman scorned is always gonna be an unknown we need to consider. But is she part of the bigger picture, the kidnapping of the senator’s daughter?” Gage rolled his hand up.
Bart twisted his mouth. “Yeah. Seems unlikely.” He glanced back toward the bedroom where the senator was settling back in the king-size bed. “Well, ’night.”
“G’night.” Gage ducked into the guest room across the hall from Hank’s and cast a longing glance to the box of eclairs he’d abandoned when the alarm sounded. As tasty as the pastries were, he’d lost his appetite while dealing with the smug and resentful senator. He stashed the box on a shelf in his closet and toed off his shoes.
Maybe if he revisited his fantasy about licking the chocolate-cream filling off Kate’s skin, he could hold his nightmares at bay tonight.
Kate pulled a loaf of banana bread out of the oven and slid the pan of yeast rolls in.
“Good gracious, that smells good.” Laurie Emerson paused as she entered the diner’s kitchen and took a deep breath. “I don’t see how you can bake as well as you do and not gain weight. If I could cook half as well as you do, I’d be a house!”
“Just because I can make it doesn’t mean I can afford to eat it,” Kate said with a grin, scooting the banana bread to a cooling rack.
Laurie pulled an apron off the linen shelf and tied it at her waist. “By the way, what happened to all those chocolate eclairs you were making yesterday morning? Did we sell out? I was ho
ping to snitch one for dessert last night.”
“Oh, sorry,” Kate said as she took down a mixing bowl to start the glaze for her cinnamon buns, a breakfast favorite for the diner’s patrons. “I made those for a customer as a thank-you gift. He, uh…helped Janet and me out the other night.”
Laurie cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “He? You wouldn’t be talking about that good-looking bodyguard that was in here yesterday with Senator Kelley, would you?”
Kate felt her cheeks heat with a blush, and a sappy grin tugged her mouth. “Well…”
“Uh-huh. I saw you talking to him. So…what’s the story?”
“The story is we’ve got hungry ranchers to feed, ladies,” Pete called from the grill behind them. “Gossip on your own time.”
Laurie waved a dismissive hand at him. “Aw, pipe down, old man. I’ll get to the customers in a second. It’s not every day our Katie has a new beau!”
The heat in Kate’s face prickled hotter, and she sputtered a laugh. “He’s not my beau! I just wanted to thank him for his help.”
“Who’s not your beau?” Janet asked as she swished through the swinging door from the dining room.
“Hank Kelley’s bodyguard,” Laurie said at the same time as Kate said, “Never mind.”
Janet frowned at her. “Did he ask you out?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “No!” Then to Laurie, “See what you started?”
Chuckling, Laurie headed toward the dining room. “You could ask him out, you know. It’s the twenty-first century, Kate.”
“Thanks for the tip,” she called to Laurie’s retreating back. “And in the twenty-first century, no one says beau anymore!”
Janet followed Kate to the refrigerator where Kate took out the butter and milk. “What did I miss? You’re not really thinking of getting involved with that guy, are you?”
Kate shot her sister a give-me-a-break look.
“I mean, he’s only in town for a while. And he’s so…gloomy,” Janet persisted. “He doesn’t smile, and those eyes…”
Setting the milk and butter next to the mixing bowl, Kate pictured Gage’s eyes. Dark blue. Piercing. So intense. Her pulse fluttered, remembering how his gaze had captivated her, had felt like a physical caress.
Her hand trembled as she measured out a half cup of milk for her glaze. “I don’t know if anything will happen with him. I admit, he’s rather serious. But I think he’s handsome and polite. And don’t forget how he stood up to Larry on your behalf.”
Janet scoffed and leaned closer, pitching her voice low. “Yeah, and for his efforts, I got the third degree from Larry when we got home and a black eye. Lot of help he was.”
“At least he got involved. That’s more than most of the people in this town will do.” Kate sliced off a large chunk of butter and put it in a small saucepan to melt.
“Because our marriage is our business and no one else’s. I don’t need every busybody in this town sticking their noses in my affairs.”
Kate pulled the can of confectioners’ sugar down from the shelf and pried off the lid. “Well, I’m glad he stood up to Larry. Larry needs to know he can’t get away with treating you the way he does. It’s criminal! I don’t understand why you can’t see what—”
Janet groaned and walked away. “Save your breath. I’ve heard that lecture before.”
Kate’s shoulders sagged in frustration. You’ve heard it, but you haven’t really listened.
Giving the melting butter a brisk stir, she added a splash of vanilla and a heaping scoop of the powdered sugar, then slowly poured in the milk. She took out her restless energy on the concoction, whisking the ingredients until the mixture made a smooth glaze. With a satisfied sigh she set the pan of glaze aside and checked the cinnamon rolls in the oven. As always, baking soothed her, centered her. She missed the Zooks, her best friend Emma’s family, and cooking made her feel closer to her Amish surrogate family and the ideals that they had taught her—ideals that gave her peace and strength and a moral grounding. All of which had been lacking in her own broken and loose-knit family.
The cinnamon buns were a golden brown, so she pulled them out and set them on the counter. As she drizzled the glaze over the hot buns, her thoughts drifted to Gage. Had he liked the eclairs she’d sent home with him? Would he stop by the diner again today?
She remembered his drastic reaction yesterday to what he’d clearly believed was a gunshot. Sure, his job was to protect the senator. To act first and differentiate noises later. But in the aftermath of his scramble to guard the senator from the perceived attack, Gage’s mind had gone somewhere truly frightening. She’d seen the distant look, the terror, the panic in his face.
Absently, Kate swiped the dribble of icing from the pan as she returned it to the stove and licked her finger. What had spooked Gage? What threat hung over the senator so that he felt he needed twenty-four-hour protection? And had the senator, by coming to Maple Cove to escape the threat, instead brought a new danger to her little town?
Gage stuck close to Hank the next day, unable to shake the sense that the broken window at the bunkhouse last night had something to do with the people blackmailing the senator. Since Hank did little besides answer correspondence on his laptop from the desk in his guest suite and wander through the main house talking to his assistant, Cindy Jensen, on his cell phone, Gage fought a mammoth case of boredom by midafternoon. He knew he was lucky to have an assignment as cushy as guarding the senator, but he couldn’t help but think of his fellow soldiers who were still in harm’s way overseas.
Rather than dwell on the war that spawned his nightmares, Gage called to mind his brief encounters with Kate Rogers. After a long, dull day with Hank, perhaps he’d treat himself to dinner at Ira’s Diner. He had no reason to believe she’d be working that evening, but if he could get out of the ranch house, away from Hank’s droning about budgets and two-hundred-dollar-a-plate charity luncheons and funding for special projects, he’d be happy.
When Hank’s phone rang for the umpteenth time that hour, Gage settled in on the family room couch and watched the man pace in front of the picture window that gave a panoramic view of the ranch property. He tuned Hank out and sank back into the sofa cushions. His mouth watered as he wondered what sort of desserts Kate had prepared for the diner today. Then his mind’s eye pictured her graceful, feminine curves and bright smile, and a different sort of hunger fired inside him.
The frantic snapping of fingers jerked him out of his daydream, and he whipped his attention to the senator’s frenzied hand gestures, pointing to the phone at his ear. Instantly, Gage recognized the stress in Hank’s voice, saw the color leach from his face.
“No, don’t do that!” Hank plunged his fingers into his hair. “I need more time.” Raising his gaze to meet Gage’s, the senator mouthed, the kidnappers.
Speaker, he mouthed back and leaned forward, perching on the edge of the couch.
Hank nodded and punched a button on the cell as he said, “I want to talk to Lana again. I need to know she’s safe, or we have no deal.”
“Keep it short,” a male voice growled through the line, though whether to Hank or to Lana, Gage couldn’t be sure.
Soon after that, a female voice carried through the static on the line. “Dad, it’s me.”
“Lana! Darling, have they hurt you? Where are you?” Hank asked, his voice cracking.
“I know you were always closer to the capital than you were to your children,” Lana said, her voice remarkably cool and composed, “but when this is over, I hope we can spend some time together, maybe accept Mr. Bradshaw’s offer to—” Lana gasped.
Hank’s nose wrinkled. “What? Lana, are you—”
“Time’s up,” the male voice barked. “You know what to do if you want her to live.”
With a click, the man was gone, and the buzz of a dial tone hummed through the line.
Hank wilted into the closest chair, his complexion pale. “If anything happens to my girl because of my stup
id mistakes…” He let his voice trail away and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Did anything she just said mean something significant to you? Who is Mr. Bradshaw?”
The senator said nothing for several seconds, and when he lifted his head, his eyes were suspiciously red.
Gage shifted on the couch, uncomfortable having the senator’s emotions so near the surface.
“I assume she means Ernie Bradshaw, the owner of ELB Insurance. We saw him a few months ago at a dinner party at the state capitol. He invited us to use his cabin in northern California for a long weekend sometime.”
Gage sat taller. “Where in northern California?”
Hank waved a dismissive hand. “Somewhere near the Nevada border. Around Lake Tahoe, I think.” Hank sighed and shook his head. “I remember he said something about it being close to home in case something came up and I had to get back quickly.”
“Home being Beverly Hills?” Gage clarified.
“Yeah. Beverly Hills is a lot closer to Nevada than D.C. is, now isn’t it?” Hank said with an impatient sneer.
Gage ignored the man’s snide retort and let Lana’s comment replay in his head. Closer to the capital than to his children. Hank’s children were far-flung now—running the ranch here in Maple Cove, studying abroad, serving in the military, working in Los Angeles. But by capital, did she mean D.C. or the state capital in Sacramento? The Bradshaws’ cabin would be closer to Sacramento than any of his kids were.
“Working on the assumption that she’s still trying to send us a message about where the kidnappers are holding her,” Gage steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips as he thought aloud, “I think we can rule out the mountains here around the ranch.”
Hank furrowed his brow. “You think she was giving us another clue?”
“If I were Lana, I’d use my one shot at talking to someone as a means of sending a message that might help in my rescue. If she’s as smart as you claim, I’d bet that’s what she’s doing.”
Hank gripped the armrests of the chair he’d dropped onto. “So what does it mean?”
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