Cardwell Ranch Trespasser (3 page)

But she’d needed to go over her story a few more times, to get into her role, because once she stepped off this plane, she had to be Dee.

“Hope you enjoy your stay at your cousin’s ranch,” he said, as the plane taxied toward the incredibly small terminal. Everything out the window seemed small—except for the snowcapped mountain ranges that rose into a blinding blue sky.

“I’m sure I will,” she said, and refreshed her lipstick, going with a pale pink. Her cousin Dana, she’d noticed, didn’t wear much—if any—makeup. Imitation was the best form of flattery, she’d learned.

“Is this your first time in Montana?”

She nodded as she put her compact away.

“Staying long?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. How about you?” He’d already told her he was flying in for a fly-fishing trip on the Yellowstone River.

“A short visit, unfortunately.”

“Dee Anna Justice,” she said extending her hand, trying out the name on him. “My friends call me Dee.”

“Lance Allen,” he said, his gaze meeting hers approvingly.

Any other time, she would have taken advantage of this handsome business executive. She recognized his expensive suit as well as the watch on his wrist. He’d spent most of the flight on his computer, working—his nails, she noted, recently manicured.

She’d known her share of men like him and hated passing this one up. It didn’t slip her mind that she could be spending the week with him on the Yellowstone rather than visiting some no-doubt-boring cousin on a ranch miles from town. But the payoff might be greater with the cousin, she reminded herself.

The plane taxied to a stop. “You don’t happen to have a business card where I could reach you if I can’t take any more of home on the range?” she asked with a breathy laugh.

He smiled, clearly pleased, dug out his card and wrote his cell phone number on the back. “I hope you get bored soon.”

Pocketing his card, she stood to get down her carry-on, giving him one final smile before she sashayed off the plane to see if her luck had changed.

* * *

H
ILDE WASN’T SURPRISED
that Dana was questioning her impulsive invitation as the plane landed. “What if she doesn’t like us? What if we don’t like her?”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Hilde said, not for the first time, even though she was feeling as anxious as her friend.

“Oh, my gosh,” Dana exclaimed, as her cousin came off the plane. “She looks like me!”

Hilde was equally shocked when she saw the young woman. The resemblance between Dana and her cousin was startling at a distance. Both had dark hair and eyes. The ever-casual ranch woman, Dana had her long hair pulled up in a ponytail. Her cousin had hers pulled back, as well, though in a clip.

All doubts apparently forgotten, Dana couldn’t contain her excitement. She rushed forward. “Dee Anna?”

The woman looked startled but only for a moment, then began to laugh as if she, too, saw the resemblance. Dana hugged her cousin.

Hilde had warned her friend that Easterners were often less demonstrative and that it might be a good idea not to come on too strong. So much for that advice, she thought with a smile. Dana didn’t do subtle well, and that was one of the many things she loved about her friend.

“This is my best friend in the world, Hilde Jacobson,” Dana said, motioning Hilde closer. “She and I started a sewing shop, even though I don’t sew, but now I’m a silent partner and Hilde does all the work. She always did all the real work since she’s the one with the business degrees.”

“Hi,” Hilde said, and shook the woman’s hand. Dana took a breath. The woman’s hand was cold as ice. She must be nervous about meeting a cousin she didn’t know existed. It made Hilde wonder if Dee Anna Justice was ready for Cardwell Ranch and the rest of this boisterous family.

“Let’s get some lunch,” Hilde suggested. “Give Dee Anna a chance to get acclimated before we go to the ranch.”

“Good idea,” Dana chimed in. “But first we need to pick up Dee Anna’s bags.”

“Please call me Dee, and this is my only bag. I travel light.”

The three of them walked outside and across the street to where Dana had left the Suburban parked.

“So how far is the ranch?” Dee asked after they’d finished lunch at a small café near the airport.

“Not that far,” Dana said. “Just forty miles.”

Dee lifted a brow. “
Just
forty miles?”

“We’re used to driving long distances in Montana,” Dana said. “Forty miles is nothing to us.”

“I already feel as if I’m in the middle of nowhere,” Dee said with a laugh. “Where are all the people?”

“Bozeman is getting too big for most people,” Dana said, laughing as well. “You should see the eastern part of the state. There’s only .03 people per square mile in a lot of it. Less in other parts.”

Dee shook her head. “I can’t imagine living in such an isolated place.”

Dana shot Hilde a worried look. “I think you’ll enjoy the ride to the ranch, though. It’s beautiful this time of year, and we have all kinds of fun things planned for you to do while you’re here. Isn’t that right, Hilde?”

Hilde smiled, wondering what Dana was getting her into. “Yes, all kinds of fun things.”

* * *

D
EE STARED OUT
the window as they left civilization behind and headed toward the mountains to the south. They passed some huge, beautiful homes owned by people who obviously had money.

She tried to relax, telling herself that fate had gotten her here. The timing of the letter was too perfect. But luck had never been on her side, so this made her a little nervous. Not to mention the thought of being trapped on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. She fingered the business card in her pocket. At least she had other options if this didn’t pan out.

She considered her cousin. Dana, while dressed in jeans, boots and a Western shirt, didn’t look as if she had money, but she drove a nice new vehicle. And was a partner in a sewing shop—as well as owned a ranch. Maybe her prospects were good, Dee thought, as Dana drove across a bridge spanning a blue-green river, then slipped through an opening in the mountains into a narrow canyon. Dee had never liked narrow roads, let alone one through the mountains with a river next to it.

“That’s the Gallatin River,” Dana said, pointing to the rushing, clear green water. Dana had been giving a running commentary about the area since lunch. Dee had done her best to tune out most of it while nodding and appearing to show interest.

The canyon narrowed even more, the road winding through towering rock faces on both sides of the river and highway. Dee was getting claustrophobic, but fortunately the land opened a little farther down the road, and she again saw more promising homes and businesses.

“That’s Big Sky,” Dana said finally, pointing at a cluster of buildings. “And that is Lone Mountain.” A snowcapped peak came into view. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Dee agreed, although she felt once she’d seen one mountain, she’d seen them all—and she’d seen more than her fair share today.

“Is the ranch far?” She was tiring of the tour and the drive and anxious to find out if this had been a complete waste of time. Lance Allen was looking awfully good right now.

“Almost there,” Dana said, and turned off the highway to cross the river on a narrow bridge.

The land opened up, and for a moment she had great expectations. Then she saw an old two-story house and groaned inwardly.

So much for fate and her luck finally changing. She wondered how quickly she would escape. Maybe she would have to use the sick-sister or even the dying-mother excuse, if it came to that.

Just then a man rode up on a horse. She did a double take and tried to remember the last time she’d seen anyone as handsome as this cowboy astride the horse.

“That’s Hud, my husband,” Dana said with obvious pride in her voice.

Hello, Hud Savage,
Dee said to herself. Things were beginning to look up considerably.

Chapter Three

Deputy Marshal Colt Dawson got the call as he was driving down from Big Sky’s Mountain Village.

“Black bear problem up Antler Ridge Road,” the dispatcher told him. “The Collins place.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He swung off Lone Mountain Trail onto Antler Ridge Road and drove along until he saw the massive house set against the side of the mountain. Like many of the large homes around Big Sky, this one was only used for a week or so at Christmas and a month or so in the summer at most.

George Collins was some computer component magnate who’d become a millionaire by the time he was thirty.

Colt swung his patrol SUV onto the paved drive that led him through the timber to the circular driveway.

He’d barely stopped and gotten out before the nanny came running out to tell him that the bear was behind the house on the deck.

Colt took out his can of pepper spray, attached it to his belt and then unsnapped his shotgun. The maid led the way, before quickly disappearing back into the house.

The small yearling black bear was just finishing a huge bowl of dog food when Colt came around the corner.

It saw him and took off, stopping ten yards away in the pines. Colt lifted the shotgun and fired into the air. The bear hightailed it up the mountain and over a rise.

After replacing the shotgun and bear spray in his vehicle, he went to the front door and knocked. The nanny answered the door and he asked to see Mr. or Mrs. Collins. As she disappeared back into the cool darkness of the house, Colt looked around.

Living in Big Sky, he was used to extravagance: heated driveways, gold-finished fixtures, massive homes with lots of rock and wood and antlers. The Collins home was much like the others that had sprouted up around Big Sky.

“Yes?” The woman who appeared was young and pretty except for the frown on her face. “Is there a problem?”

“You called about a bear on your back deck,” he reminded her.

“Yes, but I heard you shoot it.”

“I didn’t
shoot
it. I scared it off. We don’t shoot them, but we may have to if you keep feeding them. You need to make sure you don’t leave dog food on the deck. Or birdseed in your feeders. Or garbage where the bears can get to it.” Montana residents were warned of this—but to little avail. “You can be fined if you continue to disregard these safety measures.”

The woman bristled. “I’ll tell my housekeeper to feed the dog inside. But you can’t be serious about the birdseed.”

“It’s the bears that are serious about birdseed,” Colt said. “They’ll tear down your feeders to get to it and keep coming back as long as there is something to eat.”

“Fine. I’ll tell my husband.”

He tipped his Stetson and left, annoyed that people often moved to Montana for the scenery and wildlife. But they wanted both at a distance so they didn’t have to deal with it.

As he drove back toward Meadow Village, the lower part of Big Sky, he thought about what Hud had said about a raft trip down the river. No way would Hilde go. Would she?

* * *

H
ILDE HAD BEEN
watching Dee Anna Justice on the ride from the airport to Cardwell Ranch and fighting a nagging feeling.

What was it about the woman that was bothering her? She couldn’t put her finger on it even now that she was back in the sewing shop—her favorite place to be.

“So what is she like?” Ronnie asked. The thirtysomething Veronica “Ronnie” Tate was an employee and a friend. Hilde loved that she could always depend on Ronnie to hold down the fort while she was away from the shop.

“Dee Anna Justice? It’s eerie. She looks like Dana. But she doesn’t act like her.”

Ronnie seemed to be waiting for Hilde to continue.

Hilde weighed her words. Dana was her best friend. She didn’t want to talk about Dana’s cousin behind Dana’s back.

“More subdued than Dana, but then who isn’t? She’s from New York City and all this is new to her.”

Ronnie laughed. “Okay, what is wrong with her? I can tell you don’t like her.”

“No, that’s not true. I don’t
know
her.”

“But?”

What
was
bothering her about the woman? Something. “I just hope she doesn’t take advantage of Dana’s hospitality, that’s all.” Dana had flown her out here and was paying all her expenses, and Dee was letting her. That seemed wrong.

Ronnie was still waiting.

“I don’t want her to be a hardship. Dana is stretched thin as it is with four kids, two still in diapers.”

“How long is she staying?” Ronnie asked.

“That’s just it—Dana doesn’t know.” Hilde had always thought visitors were like fish: three days and it was time for them to go. But then again, she enjoyed being alone to read or sew or just look out the window and daydream. Dana was more social, even though she’d deny it.

“I’m sure Dana will show her a good time,” Ronnie said.

“I’m sure she will since she has already drafted me to help.”

After Ronnie left, she was still wondering what it was about Dee Anna Justice that bothered her. She started to lock up for the day when she recalled Dee’s reaction to Hud as he’d ridden up on his horse.

Dee had suddenly come alive—after showing little interest in Montana, the canyon or the ranch before that moment.

* * *

D
EE MOVED RESTLESSLY
around the living room of the old ranch house this morning, running her finger along the horns of some kind of dead animal hanging on the wall. Hud had told her, but she’d forgotten what kind.

Last night, while Dana had seen to the kids, Hud had shown her around the ranch. Dee hadn’t been impressed with the corrals, barn, outbuildings or even the view. But Hud, who was drop-dead gorgeous and so wonderfully manly, was very impressive. She’d never met a real live cowboy before. It made him all the more interesting because he was also the marshal.

When the tour of the ranch ended, Hud had excused himself and she’d been forced to stay up late talking with her “cousin.” Dana had shared stories of growing up here on the ranch.

Dee had made up a sad childhood of being raised by nannies, attending boarding schools and hardly ever seeing either of her wealthy parents. The stories had evoked the kind of sympathy she’d hoped to get from Dana. By the time they’d gone to bed, Dana had been apologizing for not knowing about Dee and saving her from that lonely childhood.