BILLIE DEE RHODES stopped singing to smile as the back door of the Stagecoach Saloon opened early the next morning. A cool spring breeze rushed into the kitchen along with the freshly showered scent of the cowboy who entered.
The fiftysomething Texas-born-and-bred cook turned from her pot of chili she had going to smile at Henry Larson, the retired rancher she’d been seeing for months now. He’d started stopping by for a cup of coffee with her early in the morning months ago. Now it was an every-morning occurrence that had grown into something much more.
He looked around to make sure no one else was up and at work yet, then stepped to her and gave her a kiss. “Good morning, Tex,” he said, smiling as he locked gazes with her. Neither of them could believe they’d found love at this age.
It was their little secret. Billie Dee had wanted it that way, but Henry was right about everyone who knew them getting suspicious. The retired rancher had already told his sons, who now worked his ranch.
But Billie Dee hadn’t told the Cahills, the amazing family that she’d come to know since taking the cook position at the saloon. She felt as if she was part of the family and hated keeping it from them. One of these days I’ll tell them, she kept assuring herself.
She poured Henry a cup of coffee and one for herself before joining him at the kitchen table. Henry was a big handsome cowboy with gray at his temples. The retired rancher had been a widower for over five years.
Billie Dee had come to realize that Henry was a man who could do just about anything and had. He was her hero in so many ways.
She’d joked when she’d moved to Montana that she was looking for a big handsome cowboy. She’d just never dreamed at her age that one would come along.
Henry had been so patient with her, making it clear that he wanted to marry her. So why was she dragging her feet? It wasn’t like the man didn’t know just about everything there was to know about her. Well, almost.
There was one thing she hadn’t told him. That one huge regret of her life that she hadn’t shared with him yet. So what was holding her back?
“Beautiful morning,” she said, glancing out the window toward the mountains lush with pines and new green grass. She loved spring in Montana. Winter, though, was more a love-hate relationship. How could she not love the falling snow? Or being curled up in front of a warm fire with her cowboy? It was driving through it, scraping ice and snow off her windshield, fighting drifts to get out of her driveway, that she hated.
Henry kept telling her that once they were married, she would never have to do any of that again. She wouldn’t have to cook at the saloon, either, if she didn’t want to. Maybe that was another reason she was putting off the next step. She loved her job.
“No babies yet?” he asked after taking a sip of his coffee.
“Both Lillie and Mariah look like they could pop any second, but nope, not yet.” Billie Dee was excited for them, but it would mean that Mariah and Darby Cahill would move out of the apartment upstairs over the saloon and into their house that was almost finished.
Darby had offered her the apartment upstairs rent-free. “You won’t have to drive through the snow in the winter. All you have to do is come downstairs.”
She’d been touched, but then again Darby and the rest of the Cahill clan didn’t know about the romance brewing between her and Henry. “Thanks, I’ll think about it,” was all she’d said.
“You’re going to have to tell them,” Henry said now as if reading her thoughts.
“I was waiting until the babies were born.”
Henry laughed and shook his head. “What are you so afraid of? That once you tell them, you will have to finally really consider marrying me?”
She smiled. “I do want to marry you. But...”
“I told you, you don’t have to give up your job here, if that’s what you want. And certainly not your wonderful independence.”
Billie Dee reached across to put her hand on his. “I know. I promise, I’ll do it soon.”
He looked skeptical as they heard footfalls on the stairs and she quickly removed her hand.
Darby came into the kitchen, greeting them both. Billie Dee got up to get back to her cooking. Henry finished his coffee and said he’d see them later.
“I didn’t mean to run him off,” Darby said, coming over to join her at the stove.
She heard something in his voice and glanced at the young handsome cowboy turned bar owner. Darby was grinning.
“Okay, Henry and I are...more than friends.”
He laughed. “Like I didn’t already know that. So when is he going to make an honest woman out of you?”
She swatted at him with a pancake flipper.
“It’s just an expression,” he said quickly as if afraid he’d offended her.
“He’s asked me to marry him.”
“Billie Dee, that’s wonderful. So?”
“So, I’m thinking about it. Now, don’t go blabbing to the rest of the family just yet.”
Darby shook his head. “Lillie has suspected for months. You can’t keep something like this quiet, especially around my sister.”
* * *
DRIVING TOWARD THE RANCH, Tucker felt as if he could breathe for the first time in years. All he could think about was seeing his family. He’d start with his brothers Cyrus and Hawk, then he’d go down to the saloon that Lillie and Darby owned. He was excited to see them all, but there was still a weight holding him down.
Until he knew if the remains were Madeline... Until he knew whom she’d been working with...
The road to the ranch wound through towering pines adjacent to Miner’s Creek. Everything was a beautiful lush green. He loved spring in Montana and had missed it. This time of year, the creek was still low. It was too early for the snow in the mountains to have melted and for spring runoff to begin. Turning into the ranch, he parked but didn’t see his brothers anywhere around.
As anxious as he was to see them, he knew there was something he had to do first. He had to face the nightmare that had haunted him for nineteen years. Heading for the creek, he took the same path he’d taken that night. In the shade of the pines, the air felt cold. Montana in the spring was beautiful but still chilly. The weather could change from sunny and warm to snowing and threatening in a matter of hours this time of year.
He breathed in the scent of pines and was transported back to the summer before his senior year. It had been mind-blowing sneaking off to be with Madeline, keeping the amazing secret, captivated by her body and his new experience with sex. His emotions had been all over the place.
Even when she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d been ready to marry her and run away with her. He realized how foolish that had been. But he had been on a high like none other. He would have done anything for her. Still, a part of him wanted to have been the hero that night.
What if he had jumped into the creek in time to save her that night? Or talked her out of jumping... He reminded himself that she’d lied. She hadn’t been scared of her father and brother that night. So why take the chance?
Money. And whoever was waiting for her downstream.
The path he’d taken broke out of the trees at the edge of the creek. He could hear the babble of the water over the smooth stones. The water would run clear and low for a few more weeks. He figured it would have been a fisherman who’d found her skeletal remains. He used to spend hours on this creek fishing with his father and siblings.
Ahead, he spotted the bridge and stopped for a moment, reliving that night. The moon had been full. Was that why she’d picked that particular night? He’d seen her in the moonlight standing in the middle of the bridge as he walked down the creek toward her—and she would have been able to see him.
Climbing up the steps to the raised footbridge, he stopped a few yards in—just as he had that night. The scene was so vivid. The moonlight filtering through the thick boughs of the trees. The smell of the creek and the lush brush filled the air. And the dark water, shadowed by the tree limbs hanging over it.
Madeline had stood on the bridge, clutching the bundle in her arms to her chest. He could almost hear her voice, raised in anger. Her telling him that he’d let her down. He’d ruined her life. Ruined not just her life, but their son’s, as well.
He took a step forward and then another, just as he had that night. He’d been so sure that he could reach her, that he could change her mind, that their love for each other could overcome anything.
Fool. Hadn’t she heard how his heart was breaking? How could she have gone ahead with her plan knowing how much he’d loved her?
As he reached the middle of the bridge, he stopped to look down. He still couldn’t believe she’d jumped into the fast current that night. There hadn’t been a railing on the footbridge back then. He could see her quickly stepping to the edge as he screamed for her to stop.
Tucker felt ice fill his belly at the memory. He could hear the roar of the water, the roar of his cry. He could see her hesitate for just an instant before she disappeared over the side.
He’d rushed forward in time to see her head go under in the swift current. It was the last time he saw her. He’d jumped in, but she was gone and so was whatever she’d been holding. The doll he’d gotten in the mail? If it was her remains that had been found, then she’d never had a child. Another lie. Another gut-wrenching lie.
Looking downstream he could see yellow crime scene tape caught on a tree limb out in the middle of the creek next to a deep hole where he used to fish. The tape flapped in the wind as if mocking him. This nightmare wasn’t over. Whoever had sent him the package with the weatherworn doll knew something. What were they trying to tell him?
He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t seen the figure come out of the trees until he heard the loud snap of a twig. He stared downstream as a young woman made her way to the edge of the creek. Dressed in jeans, sneakers and a jean jacket, she wore a baseball cap that hid her hair. She looked out at the flickering yellow crime scene tape for a moment, before making her way to a spot where it was obvious that the deputies had dug up what remains had still been buried. The woman stepped under the crime scene tape that hadn’t blown away. She definitely didn’t look like a cop.
But then what was she doing there? Morbid curiosity or... To his shock, she suddenly hugged herself, bending over as if in pain. He realized that she was crying. Huge sobbing wails carried on the breeze, making the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up.
What the hell? Had she known Madeline? He felt a chill run the length of his spine. A friend? Or the person who’d buried her there? Was it possible he was looking at the person Madeline had been working with?
She must have sensed him, because she turned toward the bridge. Seeing him standing there, she hurriedly wiped her tears and started to leave, but not before she did something that shocked him even more.
The woman spit on what had been Madeline’s grave.