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Hero’s Return by B.J. Daniels (5)

TUCKER WAS TOO stunned to move for a moment. What had he just seen? One thing was certain. The young woman who’d just spit on Madeline’s grave knew her!

His mind whirled. Did that mean she knew who she really was? Because she had helped her con Tucker? Or because she had reason to hate her?

As the woman disappeared into the pines, he finally shook himself out of his shock and got his feet moving. He had to talk to this woman. If she knew something...

The footbridge was old, the boards uneven and slippery this morning with dew. Still, he ran after her, slipping and almost falling in his cowboy boots. He couldn’t believe what he’d seen and heard. The sobbing. The pain he’d witnessed. And then...the hatred. It made no sense.

He’d only reached the pines when he heard a vehicle’s engine start up farther away from the creek. Racing up the trail, he realized that the woman must have run back to her vehicle. Otherwise, he would have been able to catch her before she drove away.

By the time he cleared the pines, she had driven almost to the road into town. He was too far away to get all of the license plate numbers on the vehicle she was driving. But it was definitely a Montana tag and the SUV was an expensive pearl-white one. If he saw it again...

He turned and ran back toward the ranch, mind racing. All those years ago, he hadn’t been able to learn who Madeline really was. She’d lied about so much. This was the first real lead he had on her. The irony of it was that her death was his first lead.

He was finally going to learn the truth about all of it, including who had been waiting for her downstream that night.

All he had to do was find another mystery woman, this one driving an expensive SUV.

* * *

THE SHERIFF GOT the call just before heading home for lunch. Maggie was making his favorite—barbecued short ribs. He didn’t want to be late. Also, he didn’t like to spend any more time than he had to away from his wife. As far as he was concerned, the honeymoon would never be over.

But it was also Tuck’s first night home. He was thinking he should get the family all together. Everyone would want to see Tuck. And probably want to know everything. Poor Tucker. His sister especially would demand answers and Lillie could be relentless. It was one reason he hadn’t told the rest of the family. Given the circumstances, he could tell Tucker needed time. His brother also needed to do this on his own—at his own speed.

Flint saw that it was the coroner calling and picked up. “I have a possible identification on your Jane Doe,” Sonny said. “Madeline Dunn, formerly of Clawson Creek, Montana.”

Madeline Dunn? “Possible? How did you come up with a name so quickly?”

“Dental records. I queried the dentists in the largest town within about one hundred miles of Gilt Edge, faxed them the X-rays and got a hit the first try. Great Falls, Montana, 106 miles away.” He listened while the coroner thumbed through some paperwork. “An eighteen-year-old had an abscessed tooth pulled at the dentist there. But what made him remember the girl and her mouth was that she had four wisdom teeth on each side, something so strange that the dentist took her X-rays down the hall to show another dentist. Very rare apparently.”

“That was lucky.”

“It was twenty-three years ago. She had no insurance or identification, but she wrote him a check that bounced. The account had been closed. Madeline Dunn never returned and the dentist never got his money. He’d always wondered if she’d had trouble with all those wisdom teeth.”

“Wait, twenty-three years ago?” Flint asked. He thought of the story Tucker had told him. It added up perfectly, including that Madeline Ross had been older than she’d told his brother. And obviously more experienced.

“That would make our deceased about twenty-two,” Sonny was saying. “Am I good, or what?”

Flint laughed. “You’re good, but like you said, it was all in the bones.”

“So true, but someone has to read them. As good as I am, though, you might want to wait until we get the DNA back before you try to track down next of kin. Up to you.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Sonny. Clawson Creek, huh? I think I’ll hold off until we see what the DNA might bring up.”

“As you wish,” the coroner said.

* * *

TUCKER REACHED HIS PICKUP. He still didn’t see his brothers around. They must be out in one of the pastures. Well, he didn’t have time to find them right now. He had to catch the woman before she could leave town.

Assuming that was her plan. He climbed behind the wheel of his truck, started up the engine and tore up the road. He knew his way around Gilt Edge. As he drove, he debated where she might be headed. There weren’t that many ways out of town.

The one plate number that he’d been able to make out before she’d gotten too far away had been the first one. Five. Five was Helena, the state capital. The shortest way back to the state capital was the highway to the west. So that meant she would have to drive through downtown Gilt Edge to reach it.

He raced into town, all the time looking for the SUV. Like most rural Montana towns, there were more pickups than cars or SUVs. That pretty pearl-white one would stand out like a marquee. Also, she wasn’t that far ahead of him.

A thought struck him, though. What if she knew the area as well as he did because she’d been here before with Madeline? There were at least six times when Madeline had come to see him to get more money or a favor out of him.

He was still confused by what he’d seen at the creek. The apparent grief, the crying and then the desecration on the primitive grave site. Very strange behavior. He had to wonder about the woman he was chasing.

Tucker thought about calling Flint but stopped himself. While he was sorry he hadn’t gone to his brother for help all those years ago, he couldn’t see any reason to involve the sheriff at this point. Not yet, anyway. But if the woman he was searching for knew Madeline...

If Tucker could get some answers on his own from this mysterious woman, he had to try. Madeline and whoever had been helping her owed him that, though it wouldn’t make up for the past or the years he’d lost.

As he drove, looking for the pearl-white SUV, he told himself that if the woman he’d seen at the creek had been in on the scam with Madeline, then she could be dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous than Madeline.

When he found her, he would get answers. But one thought haunted him. Was he really ready to learn the truth? Even knowing it was a scam, he still wanted to believe that Madeline had cared. He remembered the look on her face that night on the bridge. There had been real pain in her eyes. He couldn’t be wrong about that.

But what if he was wrong?

Even dead, she can break your heart again.

He told himself he wasn’t that horny, green teen Madeline had seduced. Also, he’d already had his heart broken by her. No woman had gotten to him after Madeline. He wasn’t sure any woman could. Not even Madeline herself could break his heart worse after the torment she’d put him through—let alone anything her coconspirator could tell him.

* * *

KATE ROTHSCHILD GLANCED in her rearview mirror. No sign of anyone after her. She’d been so sure the cowboy would try to chase her down after what he’d witnessed.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, determined not to cry again. She couldn’t believe the way she’d broken down at the creek. But seeing that grave and knowing who’d lain in it all this time... She’d held back her pain for too many years and for all the wrong reasons. The grief had come out of nowhere and everywhere. She’d felt like a wounded animal and was sure she’d sounded like one, as well.

Seeing the cowboy on the bridge... She’d thought she’d been alone. She’d purposely waited for law enforcement to leave with their buckets of dirt. The last thing she’d wanted was for anyone to see her there, especially sobbing her heart out.

As she drove toward the small Western town of Gilt Edge, she assured herself that everything would be fine. She’d been right to come here. Not that anything could have stopped her. But she should have known she wasn’t the only one interested in the spot where the woman had been found.

She glanced in her rearview mirror again and smiled. A pickup was tearing down the road behind her. Her pulse leaped at the sight. It was the cowboy; she’d bet on it.

Still smiling, she thought about speeding up and giving him a run for his money. But she was at the edge of town and there was a deputy sitting in his patrol car right by the city-limits sign. She had no choice but to slow down. The truck was gaining on her. If the cowboy wasn’t careful, the deputy would pull him over.

The driver of the pickup slowed. He was right behind her now. She could see his collar-length dark hair under his Stetson. It was the same man. She glimpsed his dark expression and felt a shiver.

Her heart began to pound as she considered what he might do next. He definitely had come after her. Why else was he now riding her bumper? She couldn’t help but wonder what he made of her...behavior at the creek. It appeared she would find out soon enough.

She doubted he was ready for her, Kate thought as she pulled her shoulder bag closer. She wouldn’t need the handgun in it, she told herself, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

* * *

TUCKER COULDNT BELIEVE IT. He’d caught up to her before she’d reached town. There was no doubt it was the woman from the creek. And she’d seen him. Their eyes had met in her rearview mirror and he’d seen recognition.

He’d also seen the deputy sitting on the edge of town with his radar gun out. Tucker had had no choice but to slow down. Still, there was no way she was getting out of his sight. He would follow her until she pulled over even if it meant following her all the way to Helena.

To his surprise, she pulled over into the Yogo Inn, the local downtown hotel. He swung in behind her but waited for her to get out of her SUV before he exited his pickup. He didn’t trust this woman after what he’d seen at the creek.

She climbed out after reaching into the back seat for her overnight bag. As she closed and locked her car door, she turned to look at him. There appeared to be amusement in her expression, before she headed for the front door of the hotel.

Jumping out of his pickup, he went after her. She had no chance against his long legs. Even at thirty-six he could still run like he had when he’d played football in high school.

“Hold up!” he called to her slim back. On the bridge he hadn’t gotten a good look at her. She’d been wearing a jean jacket so he hadn’t seen her figure. Now she wore only a T-shirt and jeans, and filled out both in an appealing way that momentarily distracted him.

Also, at the creek, her hair had been covered by a baseball cap. Now her long dark hair fell in a riot of loose curls down to the middle of her back. As she moved, it swayed in luxurious shiny ebony waves.

“Miss!”

She pretended not to hear him, he was sure of it. But she wasn’t getting away. This woman was the closest he’d come to knowing who Madeline Ross really had been—and maybe what she’d been capable of.

He quickly caught up to her and, grabbing one slim arm, spun her around to face him. He was momentarily startled by her wide green eyes in a face that could have stopped traffic. Her cheekbones were high, her mouth bow-shaped.

He’d expected her to be alarmed. Or at least frightened by having a man accost her in a hotel parking lot. But as she stared back at him from the depths of all that emerald green, he only saw a curious regard. Her lips parted slightly as if waiting to be kissed before turning up at the corners in more pronounced amusement.

Taken aback, he had trouble finding his voice.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked as he quickly released her arm.

“Sorry,” he said as he stared her. She was definitely the woman from the creek, but she wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting. He’d assumed since she’d known Madeline that she would be more like her. This woman was much more refined, educated and apparently well-off. It seemed impossible that she could have been working with Madeline all those years ago.

So how did he explain what he’d seen at the creek?

He couldn’t and for a moment he didn’t know what was going to come out of his mouth. “I’m sorry. I thought you were...” He shook his head.

She hadn’t moved, hadn’t turned and run; she hadn’t even tried to put a little distance between them. Instead, she was studying him with those wide-open green eyes. If anything, he saw interest in those eyes.

“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned for him.

It made him angry. He should be concerned for her, given what he’d seen. What was worse was that he realized that this woman couldn’t possibly be the person who’d been working with Madeline all those years ago. She wasn’t old enough.

He felt like an even bigger fool. But still, he hadn’t imagined what he’d seen at the creek. But what had he seen?

“I saw you at the creek earlier.” He waited for her to explain. She didn’t. “You seemed upset.”

“Did I? Is that why you chased me down?”

“I got the feeling that you had some connection to the woman whose remains were found in the creek. I must have been wrong.”

“No, you’re not wrong.”

That stopped him in his tracks. “I beg your pardon?”

“What did she call herself?”

He felt as if he’d fallen down a rabbit hole. “I’m sorry, who are we talking about?”

“The woman who broke your heart.”

“Oh, her,” he said with a laugh. “Are we still talking about the woman found in the creek?”

“Only if she’s the one who broke your heart. Oh, I see. She did. I thought as much. Do I remind you of her?” she asked and tucked a lock of her dark hair behind one ear. A diamond earring winked in the sunlight.

“No, she couldn’t hold a candle to you,” he admitted truthfully. In retrospect, everything about Madeline had been disingenuous from her blond hair to her name. While everything about this woman was the real thing. Not that any of that had mattered when he was seventeen and in love for the very first time.

Tucker realized he was staring again—and having an even harder time following this conversation. He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m confused.”

She chuckled. “I’m not surprised.” She held out her hand. “Katherine Rothschild, but my friends call me Kate.”

“Tucker Cahill.” Her hand was small and warm, the skin silken, the manicured nails a sweet pale pink. “Rothschild,” he repeated and held on to her hand a little too long. Anyone who had ever lived in Montana knew that name. “Your father—”

“Is the former senator and now a congressman in Washington, DC.”

Clayton Rothschild was a mover and shaker in DC and one of the wealthiest men in the state. He owned almost as much land in Montana as Ted Turner.

“Cahill? Any relation to Sheriff Flint Cahill?”

“He’s my brother.” He frowned, suddenly wondering how a young woman like her—let alone a Rothschild—would know Flint. Not to mention what she’d been doing down by the creek earlier. She still hadn’t explained what he’d seen. All she’d done was confuse him.

“You said you do have a connection to the dead woman?” He was having trouble believing that.

She smiled. “And so do you, I’m guessing. Do they have a positive identification on her yet?”

“Not that I’ve heard. How do you know all this?”

“About the skeletal remains being found? From the news. That’s why I’m here. I’d planned to speak to your brother Flint. But it was nice to meet you instead. Well, I better get checked in before they give my room away.”

“Wait,” he said, realizing she’d sidestepped almost every question he’d asked her. “You haven’t told me what you were doing at the creek earlier. I heard you crying. I also saw you spit on the woman’s grave.”

Kate Rothschild nodded, smiling. “Nor have you told me what she called herself, this woman who broke your heart.”

“Madeline.”

“Well, in that case, you should buy me dinner tonight,” Kate said. “It appears we have some things in common.”

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“Of course not. Pick me up at seven.” With that, she turned and headed into the hotel.

Tucker watched her go.

“It was nice meeting you, Tucker Cahill,” she said over her shoulder an instant before the door closed behind her.

* * *

KATE HAD JUST stepped into the hotel when her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and saw that it was her mother calling again. She pocketed her phone and proceeded to get checked in. Her mind kept straying in the direction of Tucker Cahill. She was still embarrassed that he’d witnessed her breakdown at the creek. But in a twist of fate, it had all worked out better than she’d planned. And now she was having dinner with him tonight.

Strike while the iron is hot, she thought and realized that she’d just used one of her mother’s expressions. That was a sour thought.

Once in her room, she walked to the window and looked out on Gilt Edge. It was named after one of the gold mines back in the mountains that surrounded the town. Her phone rang again. She’d thought it was her mother again, but it was her father’s personal assistant, Peter.

He was the last person she wanted to talk to considering their last discussion.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Peter had asked before she’d flown home to Helena. She’d been in DC on an errand for her father when she’d heard about the young woman’s remains being found in Miner’s Creek—next to the Cahill Ranch. She’d been anxious to return to Montana as quickly as possible. Peter had insisted on dinner before her flight, and even before the entrées arrived, she’d regretted saying yes.

“I’m going home,” she’d said, pretending she didn’t know what Peter was referring to. While her father spent most of his time in Washington, DC, her mother preferred living outside Helena on the ranch. It was there that Kate and her brother had grown up.

“You’re opening a Pandora’s box,” Peter had argued. “Think about what it could do to your father’s career.”

She had thrown down her napkin and pushed to her feet. “Her bones have been found. The box is already open.”

“For God’s sake, Katie, sit back down before you embarrass us both.”

“I’m going to finish this—come hell or high water and no one, especially you, can stop me. And I’m not your Katie.” With that, she’d walked out, caught the flight home and then driven to Gilt Edge.

Her cell phone rang again. Her mother. She knew she couldn’t keep avoiding her so she picked up. “Hello, Mother.”

“Katherine.” The word was filled with reproach.

Her mother was Helena’s leading socialite. Kate knew that she liked being a big fish in a little pond, unlike getting lost in the crowd in DC where she was just another politician’s wife.

But Mamie Rothschild would never admit that. Just as she would never admit there were any bad memories in that big old house outside Helena. Her mother didn’t allow herself to acknowledge anything unpleasant. Her strong resilient mother was a survivor, she thought grudgingly, and she’d raised Kate to be one, as well.

“Did you get my message?” her mother demanded.

“No, what was it?”

“I’ve spoken with your father. He feels the same way I do. He said he would fly back from DC if he had to, but he’d prefer that you stop what you’re doing.”

She realized she could thank Peter for this. The next time she saw him... “I’m not doing anything more than what I always do, Mother.” She pushed back the curtain at the hotel window and realized that from here she could see the cut in the trees where the Cahill ranch house must be—not that far at all from the creek. How convenient.

“We both know why you’re in Gilt Edge and it isn’t your interest in some story about bones found in a creek near there.”

“You might be surprised by who or what I’m interested in.”

Reproving silence filled the line. “I don’t wish to talk about your personal life, if that’s what you’re referring to with that remark. Peter is just as upset as your father and I. You need to stop this.”

“Actually, what I’m doing is getting ready to go on a date.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How could you possibly be going on a date? You and Peter—”

“Are not serious. I’ve told you that numerous times.”

“Well, maybe you aren’t serious, but Peter is. You’re making a mistake. Peter is perfect for you.”

“No, he’s perfect for what you and Father want for me. Tonight I’m going out with a cowboy. His name is Tucker Cahill.”

“Cahill?” Her mother sounded breathless.

“Yes. He and I already share a special bond. We met today at the creek where the bones were found. I asked him to take me out to dinner.”

Mamie would be horror-stricken if she’d known that Kate had lost control out at the creek—especially since there’d been a witness. And not just any witness. Tucker Cahill. With the Cahill Ranch so close, Kate shouldn’t have been surprised to see the cowboy there, especially now that she had confirmed that they had something in common.

Tucker Cahill had known Madeline. From his expression earlier, he’d known her well. That thought turned her stomach. He’d chased her down to find out what she knew. And now she was having dinner with him tonight to find out what he knew. Talk about strange bed partners, so to speak.

Even stranger was who had brought them together.

“You need to come to your senses,” her mother was saying.

“Oh, I have. I told you I would never let this go. Tucker doesn’t know it, but he’s going to help me.”

Her mother sniffed angrily. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“On the contrary. I’m good at what I do, Mother, so I have a pretty good idea of what I’m doing.”

The next words were delivered like a dagger of ice. “You know what I mean.”

“I have to get ready for my date.”

“I’m calling your father and Peter,” her mother threatened.

“Daddy won’t come home. Not for this. He will want to stay as far away as he can from anything...ugly. I’m afraid you’re on your own since there is nothing you can say to stop me. As for Peter, you really are wasting your time. He has nothing to say that I want to hear.” She disconnected, surprised how angry she was. Or how close she was to tears again.

Clearly she wasn’t as strong as she’d thought. But she was as determined as she’d been every day for the past nineteen years. She wasn’t going to let anyone stop her. Not even Tucker Cahill.

* * *

TUCKER HAD JUST reached his pickup when his cell phone rang.

“Where are you?” Flint asked. “I just tried the ranch. Cyrus said they hadn’t seen you.”

He could hear the fear in his brother’s voice. Flint had thought he might have left town again without a word. “Sorry, I got waylaid. I’m on my way there now.”

“How about a change of plans? I just talked to Maggie. She’s up for all of us going to the Stagecoach Saloon tonight and celebrating your return.”

“Oh, that sounds great but I can’t tonight. I have a date.”

A date? Tucker, you just got back to town.”

“I know,” he said with a laugh. “I’m as surprised as you are. If you saw her, you’d be even more surprised.”

“Who is this woman?”

“Kate Rothschild.”

Rothschild? Of the Montana Rothschilds?”

“Apparently so.”

“What is she doing in Gilt Edge?”

He couldn’t tell his brother what he’d witnessed. Not until he knew more. “Just passing through, I think.”

“And you just happened to cross her path?” Flint asked.

“Yep, must be fate.” Even as he said it, he wondered if it wasn’t true. They would never have met if he hadn’t seen her at the creek today. He would have never known her connection to Madeline. Not that he did yet, but he would by tonight.

“Fate, huh?”

“You have such a suspicious mind.”

Flint laughed. “I’ve been told that. It goes with the job. Look, I’m happy for you, but I was hoping we could get together your first night home. The rest of the family is anxious to see you.”

“I know. They’ll also want answers about where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing and why I left,” Tucker said. “I’m not sure I’m up to an interrogation tonight. It’s been kind of a rough day and a relief at the same time.”

“I know. It was a lot to take in.” His brother seemed to hesitate. “We might have an ID on the remains from the creek. They could belong to a woman named Madeline Dunn from Clawson Creek. She would have been twenty-two.”

Tucker took in that information for a moment. “Madeline Dunn.”

“I’m not going to try to find the next of kin until we get the DNA results.”

“Dunn, huh,” Tucker said. He finally had a name. After all these years of wondering who Madeline really was...

“Are you sure I can’t talk you into changing your plans?” Flint asked.

Not a chance, Tucker thought. “Not tonight. But I’m anxious to see everyone, too. In fact, I’m headed for the saloon right now. Thought I’d swing by on my way back to the ranch. Any chance I can catch both Lillie and Darby there?”

“I just talked to them so I’d say there is a very good chance.”

“Great, after that I’ll go to the ranch and see Hawk and Cyrus. I’m going to be staying out there in my old room if they’ll have me.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Flint asked.

“It’s going to take some getting used to. But I’m glad to be home—even under the circumstances. Don’t worry about me, little brother.”

Flint chuckled. “Sorry. I’ve worried about you for years. It’s become a habit that is going to take time getting used to not worrying about you.”

Tucker pulled up in front of the Stagecoach Saloon, which his sister and brother, fraternal twins, owned. “I’m at the saloon.”

“If I don’t talk to you later, have fun on your date.”

“I’ll try.” But as he disconnected, he didn’t think it was that kind of date. He was curious as hell about Kate Rothschild. But for the life of him he couldn’t understand how Kate could have anything to do with Madeline, which made what he’d witnessed at the creek all that more intriguing. Add to that, she’d said they had something in common with the bones found in the creek.

His cell rang before he could exit his pickup. He saw it was Flint again and picked up.

“Tuck,” his brother said without preamble. “Be careful on your date tonight. I just looked Kate Rothschild up on the internet. She’s an award-winning investigative reporter for a big New York newspaper. I can’t imagine what she’s doing in Gilt Edge, unless she’s interested in the remains found in the creek. In which case, she might also be interested in you. Is there any way she could have known about you and Madeline?”

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