Montana Secrets by B.J. Daniels

Author:B.J. Daniels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THREE

Hank rose before the sun and made his way down the mountainside to the corral. He’d missed the smell of saddle leather and horseflesh. He was breathing it in when he heard someone approaching from behind him.

He’d always been keenly aware of his environment. Growing up in Montana on a ranch, he’d learned at a young age to watch out for things that could hurt you—let alone kill you—in the wild. That instinct had only intensified in the years he’d been gone as if he felt a darkness trailing him, one that he could no longer ignore.

“You’re up early,” he said to his father without turning around as Hud came up behind him.

“I could say the same about you. I thought you and I should talk.”

“Isn’t that what we did at dinner last night?” Hank asked sarcastically. His father hadn’t said ten words. Instead his mother had filled in the awkward silences.

“I’m glad you came back,” Hud said.

He turned finally to look at his father. The sun glowed behind the mountain peaks to the east, rimming them with a bright orange glow. He studied his father in the dim light. They were now both about the same height, both with broad shoulders and slim hips. Both stubborn to a fault. Both never backing down from a fight. He stared at the marshal, still angry with him after all these years.

“I’m not staying long.”

Hud nodded. “That’s too bad. Your mother will be disappointed. So am I. Son—”

“There really isn’t anything to talk about, is there? We said everything we had to say three years ago. What would be the point of rehashing it?”

“I stand by what I did.”

Hank laughed. “I’d be shocked if you didn’t.” He shook his head. “It must be wonderful to know that you’re always right.”

“I’m not always right. I just do the best I can with the information and evidence I have.”

“Well, you’re wrong this time,” he said and turned back to the horses. One of the mares had come up to have her muzzle rubbed. Behind him, he heard his father head back toward the house and felt some of the tension in his chest release even as he cursed under his breath.

* * *

DANA HAD INSISTED on making them breakfast. After a stack of silver-dollar-sized pancakes swimming in butter and huckleberry syrup, a slab of ham, two eggs over easy and a tall glass of orange juice, Frankie sat back smiling. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten so much or liked it more.

No matter what happened on this visit to the ranch, she planned to enjoy herself as much as was possible.

“I thought dinner was amazing,” she told Dana. Hank’s favorite meal turned out to be roast beef, mashed potatoes, carrots and peas and homemade rolls. “But this breakfast… It was so delicious. I never eat like this.”

“I can tell by your figure,” her host said, beaming. Clearly Dana equated food with love as she looked to her son to see if he’d enjoyed it.

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