Книга - High-Calibre Christmas

High-Calibre Christmas
B.J. Daniels


Once the trigger is pulled on an earth-shattering secret his world will never be the same again… When Jace left Whitehorse, he never meant to return – until a family tragedy drew the undercover agent back to his home town…and the woman he left behind. Suddenly Jace must deal with a life-changing revelation and serious danger. His Christmas homecoming is also stirring up trouble for his ex-fiancée, Kayley.The last thing Jace wanted was to put her in harm’s way. When Kayley is taken hostage, Jace knows, without a doubt, he’ll risk his own life to save Kayley’s…and if he’s given a second shot at her love he’ll take it!










Just the sight of her still stirred a desire in him like no woman ever had.

Her hair was still the color of sunshine, and he knew the feel of it between his fingers the same way he knew the feel of her skin beneath his lips.

“It was good to see you,” he said. Good and painful.

“You, too, Jace” She studied him for a moment, her smile rueful.

As he watched her walk away, he felt all those old feelings rush at him like fighter planes.

He turned toward his rental SUV, and told himself as he had twelve years ago that he would have hurt her worse if he’d married her and stayed in Whitehorse.

As he reached for his keys, he felt it again. That insane sensation that someone was watching him.

He thought for a moment that he’d imagined the feeling of being watched … but across the street was a silver SUV like the one he’d rented. And someone was sitting behind the wheel, watching his every move …




About the Author


BJ DANIELS wrote her first book after a career as an award-winning newspaper journalist and author of thirty-seven published short stories. That first book, Odd Man Out, received a four-and-a-half star review from RT Book Reviews and went on to be nominated for Best Intrigue for that year. Since then she has won numerous awards, including a career achievement award for romantic suspense and many nominations and awards for best book.

Daniels lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, and two springer spaniels, Spot and Jem. When she isn’t writing, she snowboards, camps, boats and plays tennis. Daniels is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, International Thriller Writers, Kiss of Death and Romance Writers of America.

To contact her, write to BJ Daniels, PO Box 1173, Malta, MT 59538, USA, or e-mail her at bjdaniels@mtintouch. net. Check out her website at www.bjdaniels.com.


High-Calibre Christmas

BJ Daniels






























www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


This book is for E-dub of Laramie, Wyo.

He knows why.




Chapter One


Jace Dennison saw the woman staring at him as he took a seat to wait for his flight to Montana. He immediately opened the book he’d picked up to avoid being forced to talk to anyone.

But as he did, the letter from his mother fell out. Jace felt a wave of guilt along with grief as he bent to pick it up. If only he had read it and been able to return to Montana before it was too late.

Unsteadily, he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. What surprised him was that it wasn’t one of her usual cheerful letters that ended with “I hope you can come home” for whatever birthday, holiday or other event.

No, this letter was different. There was an urgency in her words. She must have known she was dying. Jace read the letter again. Over the years, he had managed to make it home for his mother’s birthday and a few other occasions … though not many, he thought with regret.

What bothered him about this letter was what his mother wasn’t saying. Apparently, there was something she needed to tell him, something that had weighed heavily on her for years, making him even more convinced that she’d known she was dying. Why hadn’t she let him know before it was too late?

He studied the letter and frowned. His mother almost made it sound as if she had a secret. Jace found that hard to believe. Marie Dennison wasn’t the kind of woman who could keep a deep, dark secret, especially not from her only child. Not that cheerful, loving woman who’d raised him after his father had died. She’d already raised her younger brother, Audie.

But what had set off alarms was that his mother had insisted that she needed to tell him in person.

With growing regret, he realized he might never know what that secret was. When he’d landed in Miami, he’d been notified by his superior that there had been another tragedy at home. His uncle Audie Dennison had apparently been killed. The details were sketchy.

All Jace knew was that he was going home to bury the only family he had left—and he hadn’t been there when they had needed him the most.

“Excuse me.”

He looked up and was surprised to see it was the same woman who’d been staring at him earlier. She appeared to be close to his own age, early thirties, a petite, slight woman with dark hair cut in a chin-length bob. Her wide brown eyes had a haunted look to them in a face that was painfully beautiful.

“Excuse me,” she repeated, her voice soft and apologetic. “I hate to bother you, but you look so much like my late husband. My husband’s name was Carris. John Carris.”

He smiled sympathetically. “No, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ve never heard the name before.”

She nodded, looking disappointed. “I was so sure …” Her gaze moved over the contours of his face. “You look so much like him you could be brothers.” She quickly took a step back. “My mistake. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“It was no bother. I’m sorry to hear about your husband.” It was clear that her loss had been recent.

“Thank you.” She turned and walked away.

He stared after her for a moment, sympathizing with her in a way she would never know. Several people sitting nearby had been watching him and the woman, he realized, but they soon went back to what they had been doing.

Jace glanced again at the letter he’d been reading before she’d approached him then carefully put it into his jacket pocket.

As his flight was called, he rose to join the line of people preparing to board—and hesitated. Ahead of him, the widow Carris showed the attendant her boarding pass, and Jace had the strangest sense of foreboding.

He’d stayed alive this long by trusting his instincts.

“Sir?” the man said behind him when he failed to move forward.

“Sorry,” Jace said as he stepped aside to pretend to dig out his boarding pass, knowing he couldn’t trust his emotions right now. Not having just recently lost not only his mother, but also his uncle. Not with that letter in his pocket worrying him.

He’d never been afraid of flying—not even after his recent jungle crash, which had left him badly injured. He’d flown hundreds of times in planes that had looked as if they wouldn’t get off the ground, into and out of countries where he wasn’t welcome.

What was there to fear flying home to Montana in this 777 on such a beautiful day? Hell, it wasn’t even snowing yet, and it was November.

As he watched Mrs. Carris disappear down the tunnel to the plane, the attendant announced final call for the flight to Billings, Montana.

Jace swore and did something he hoped he wouldn’t regret. For the first time in years, he didn’t listen to his instincts. The last time had been when he’d left the woman he had been about to marry to go to work as an undercover operative for the government.

Taking out his boarding pass, he tried not to limp as he headed for the plane unable to shake his bad feeling. As he caught up with Mrs. Carris, he hoped uncharitably that they wouldn’t be sitting near each other.

The last thing he needed was to talk about death for the whole flight. He wondered idly why she was going to Montana.

As he limped down the aisle to his seat, his injured leg bothering him more all of a sudden, he couldn’t help being relieved that Mrs. Carris was sitting a half-dozen seats behind him. She hadn’t noticed him, busy fastening her seatbelt.

He quickly sat down and opened his book, fighting a sudden urge to flee. Jace knew this had to have something to do with what he would be facing when he got home. His supervisor had told him to stop by the sheriff’s department when he reached Whitehorse. That alone had him worried as hell.

THE TAKEOFF WAS SMOOTH, the skies friendly and calm. When the plane landed on the rimrock in Billings, Montana, he breathed a sigh of relief, glad he hadn’t listened to his instincts this time. Apparently there had been nothing to his earlier premonition of impending doom.

Still, as he headed for the rental-car line, he was so glad to be on solid ground that he didn’t see the woman until she bumped into him.

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

Mrs. Carris’s laugh surprised him as he reached to pick up the carry-on she’d dropped when they’d collided. She grabbed his jacket sleeve to steady herself as she took her bag from him.

“You can’t seem to get away from me,” she said with a smile. “I was trying to catch you to thank you for being so understanding earlier at the Denver airport. Another man might have thought I was trying to pick him up.” Her cheeks flushed, and he could practically see her bite her tongue.

“It’s quite all right, Mrs. Carris.”

She looked away, embarrassed, and fiddled with the wedding band she still wore.

“Ava, please. Mrs. Carris only reminds me …” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Ava,” he said and extended his hand. “Jace. Jace Dennison.”

She smiled as she took his hand. Hers was small, cool to the touch and surprisingly strong. “I need to go back that way,” she said with a glance over her shoulder. “Thank you again for your understanding. Not all men are so … kind.”

“Have a nice trip, Mrs. Carris.”

“You, too.” This time when she walked away, her step seemed a little lighter. He turned to the rental-car counter, silently wishing her well, thinking it was the last he would see of Ava Carris.

It wasn’t until later, when he stopped for dinner on the three-hour drive north to Whitehorse, that he reached into his jacket pocket for his mother’s letter only to find it gone.




Chapter Two


Ava Carris had planned to fly from Billings on to Seattle. At least that’s what her ticket said. She’d gone with a cheaper ticket, which meant several stops in Montana before arriving late in Seattle.

It was John’s fault. Even though her husband was gone, he was still with her in small ways. Thanks to his life insurance, she could afford to fly first class if she wanted.

But John had taught her to be frugal. Cheap, her sister would have said.

Ava swatted away the thought of her sister. She hadn’t heard from Evie before she’d left, which was fine with her.

Now she watched the man who’d introduced himself as Jace Dennison. She couldn’t help herself. It was like looking at John. She could pretend that it was her husband renting them a car which they would drive to wherever the young man was headed. She smiled at the thought, that ache for her husband a constant companion.

Ava knew it was silly, but she waited until she saw which model Jace Dennison rented, then rented a silver SUV just like it. She cringed to think what her sister would have said. Just because he looked so much like John …

Maybe I’m just curious.

Or don’t have anything better to do.

She bristled at the thought, resenting it. She was now a widow. Of course she felt a little lost, she thought as she took the keys for her silver SUV and walked outside.

What does pretending for a little while hurt?

The day was bright, almost blinding, and she had to put her hand against the building for a moment to steady herself. The dizziness had been getting worse lately. That and the headaches.

She leaned there until she felt a little better. No hurry. It wasn’t like she didn’t know where Jace Dennison was headed.

Once inside the rental car, she took out the letter she’d seen him reading. She was sure it had something to do with why he was in Montana. As she read it for the third time, she wondered as he must have what it was his mother was so desperate to tell him.

A secret.

How she despised secrets.

Ava rubbed her temples as she studied the return address again. Whitehorse, Montana. She’d have to buy herself a map, she thought as she started the car.

You shouldn’t have taken his letter. You had no right.

She smiled bitterly. A woman had every right. John hadn’t fooled her. Neither would this man who looked so much like him that it had almost stopped her heart as dead as John’s when she’d seen him.

Some men were just too handsome. John Carris had been one of them. Jace Dennison was another.

Men like that you needed to keep an eye on. Who knew what kind of trouble they could get into?

Ava knew, and that was why she was headed for Whitehorse.

AS JACE DROVE INTO WHITEHORSE, he was amazed that the small Western town never seemed to change. There were the same businesses along the main drag as there had been when he was a boy.

He’d thought he would get back to see his mother and uncle more, but his work had kept him away. At least that had been his excuse. When he had come home, he’d sneaked into town, usually late at night, and stayed out at the ranch with his mother and uncle, making a point not to see anyone.

Jace didn’t fool himself about why he’d done that as he pulled into a parking spot in front of the sheriff’s department, turned off the key and sat for a moment. He didn’t know why he’d been told to contact the sheriff, but he did know that whatever the reason, it wasn’t going to be good.

Could it have something to do with the secret his mother had hinted at in her letter? It still bothered him that he’d lost it.

The trepidation he was feeling surprised him. Fear was no stranger to him. It came with his dangerous job.

But the kind of fear he was feeling now was something new. He didn’t want to know what his mother might have kept from him, and the last thing he wanted was to have to bury both his mother and uncle.

Bracing himself, he opened his door and got out. It was one of those clear, incredibly blue, sunny days that Montana was famous for in the fall. A blessing of a day, because it was November. Within hours it could be snowing and cold.

Jace breathed in the smell of autumn and realized he’d forgotten this scent that was as unique as this part of Montana.

At the dispatcher’s office, he was told that the sheriff was in her office. He found it down the hall.

“I guess I have been gone a long time,” Jace said when he saw McCall Winchester behind the desk wearing a sheriff’s uniform. “A woman sheriff in Whitehorse?” Let alone a Winchester. Although he didn’t voice that sentiment, McCall picked up on it.

“No one else wanted the job.” She smiled as she got to her feet and held out her hand. He and McCall had gone to high school together, though she was a few years behind him.

“We’ve been looking for you,” she said after shaking his hand and offering him a seat. “I’m sorry about your mother’s passing and your uncle Audie’s.”

“I know mother’s was cancer, but Audie?” he asked, getting right to the point.

“Quite a bit has been going on,” McCall said and hesitated. “Your uncle took his own life.”

Jace sat back, although this didn’t come as a complete surprise. “I knew that it would be hard on him without my mother, but …”

“There was a little more to it than that.” The sheriff shifted in her seat.

“Just hit me with it,” he said, afraid it had something to do with his mother’s letter—and her alleged secret.

“Actually, it goes back thirty years,” McCall said. “Back to the night you were born. There was another baby born within minutes of you.”

A chill snaked up his spine. “You aren’t going to tell me that the babies somehow got switched by mistake.”

“No. Not by mistake.”

He laughed, shaking his head. This was not happening. He’d tried to imagine what his mother could have possibly had to tell him. Never in all his imagination could he have conjured up this.

“You’re telling me Marie wasn’t my mother?”

The sheriff nodded.

“Then who the hell—”

“The other woman in labor that night was Virginia Winchester.”

“Bull,” he said pushing to his feet.

“I know this is hard to hear.”

“You have no idea.”

McCall smiled at that. “Oh, I think I might be the one person in town who really does understand. I went for twenty-seven years wondering who I was.”

Jace knew what she was saying was true. She’d been like the true black sheep of the family, since no one in the Winchester branch of the family tree acknowledged that she even existed.

“Virginia Winchester?” he said, trying to calm down.

“My aunt. She was pregnant with Jordan McCormick’s son. Virginia’s been gone the past twenty-seven years and has only recently returned to town.”

So he was the child of Virginia Winchester and Jordan McCormick. “They weren’t married?”

She shook her head. “Jordan’s mother was against the relationship. There has always been bad blood between the Winchesters and McCormicks. I have no idea why. But Joanna McCormick was afraid that once the baby was born, her son Jordan would marry my aunt. That is apparently why she paid a woman posing as a nurse to switch the babies.”

Jace shook his head in disbelief. “What happened to my mother’s … Marie’s baby?”

“Marie had a difficult pregnancy, and an even more difficult labor, apparently,” McCall said. “At her advanced age, she knew the risks. From what I’ve found out, she was lucky that the pregnancy didn’t kill her. As it was, her baby died two days after it was born.”

He closed his eyes, thinking of all the times his mother had told him about how badly she’d wanted a baby, how hard it had been and how lucky she was to get him. She’d known the babies had been switched. Maybe not at first, but later …

“I’m sorry, Jace, but Joanna McCormick confessed. So did your uncle.”

His eyes flew open. “My uncle?”

“It’s complicated,” she said and waited for him to lower himself back into his chair. “I can only tell you what we’ve been able to piece together from the last people to see Audie alive. Thirty years ago, he’d been dating a woman posing as a nurse. He knew she was going to switch the babies and obviously must have known that Marie’s baby wasn’t doing well. We don’t believe he knew that Joanna McCormick had already paid the woman to make the switch. When she changed her mind and switched the babies back, he …”

Jace felt his heart drop. “No.”

“He killed her and switched the babies. I’m sure he did it because he knew it was his sister’s last chance to have a baby. Unfortunately the woman’s sister—”

“He killed her, as well?”

McCall nodded.

Jace was on his feet again, pacing the floor. He raked a hand through this thick, dark hair and swore.

“This isn’t possible.” Jace felt sick. He couldn’t quit thinking about all the times his mother had told him that he’d been a blessing from God. Well, not exactly a blessing from God, as it turned out. “You have any proof of this?”

“Because it became a criminal investigation, the baby Virginia Winchester buried was exhumed. DNA tests confirmed that the child was Marie Dennison’s.”

Jace looked away. “Did my mother know?”

“It all came out after she died,” McCall said. “I don’t think she knew what her brother had done.”

Or she’d known from that moment thirty years ago when a nurse had put the baby in her arms—and said nothing?

Jace hated to think how long she had known he wasn’t the son she’d conceived. Long enough that she’d wanted to tell him before she died, of that he was certain.

“This is really a hell of a thing to drop on someone,” he said. “What am I supposed to do with this information?”

McCall shook her head. “Virginia Winchester is your mother. What you decide to do with the information is up to you.”

He rubbed a hand over his face.

“She’s staying out at the ranch with my grandmother.”

“Your grandmother?” He remembered stories about the reclusive Pepper Winchester. Since when had she acknowledged that McCall was her granddaughter?

McCall smiled. “Like I said, a lot has happened since you left town.”

“Apparently.”

“I’m sorry you had to come back to this along with everything else.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“If there is anything I can do …”

“So, I guess you and I are …”

“Cousins,” McCall said.

“You’ll understand if I’m not excited about being a Winchester.”

She smiled. “Call me if you need anything.”

He left, stopping outside on the sidewalk to breathe. The news had him more than a little rattled. It was as if nothing in his past had been as he’d thought it. Not his mother. Not even his uncle Audie. Most especially, not himself.

Jace walked three doors down to the Range Rider Bar, shoved open the door and stepped into the dim, cool darkness. He needed a drink.

As he took a stool at the bar, the young female bartender smiled at him. “What would you like?”

“Beer. Whatever you have on tap.” He’d never been a drinker. As she walked away, he realized he should have ordered something stronger. He glanced in the mirror behind the bar, taking in the three patrons on stools at the other end, glad to see that he didn’t recognize anyone—nor did they seem to know him.

When the bartender brought his beer, he stared into the depths of his glass and tried to take in what McCall had told him.

Audie murdered two women and took his own life? He thought of his uncle, a prickly loner who only softened when he was around his sister Marie and Jace. But he would never have guessed the man capable of murder.

“Holy hell,” he breathed and took a long drink of the beer.

Marie Dennison wasn’t his mother. Instead Virginia Winchester was? He’d never laid eyes on the woman.

Nor did he plan to, he thought as he took another drink. He’d get the only mother he’d known and Audie buried. Then he would get the hell out of here.

He thought about his family ranch to the north of town, where he’d been raised. He’d put it up for sale. That way there would be no reason to ever come back here.

He finished his beer, feeling a little better. First the mortuary, then a real estate office. With luck, he’d be putting all of this behind him in forty-eight hours.

Getting up, he tossed some money on the bar and headed for the door. As he stepped out onto the sidewalk, he came face-to-face with the only woman he’d ever loved—and the real reason he had sneaked in and out of town all these years.

MCCALL HATED THAT SHE’D had to give Jace Dennison the bad news. She was still a little shocked to see how much he looked like the rest of the Winchesters. Why hadn’t they all seen it growing up? Maybe some people had seen it.

Or maybe it had taken him growing into a man to see the striking resemblance. He’d left Whitehorse at eighteen. Now he was a man, an incredibly handsome man with the Winchester dark eyes and hair.

What would he do now that he knew the truth? Get out of town as quickly as possible. As it was, he’d given Whitehorse a wide berth for years. After his father’s death, he’d visited the ranch to see his mother and uncle but hadn’t been seen around town.

Her phone rang. She picked up, not surprised to hear her grandmother’s voice.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Pepper Winchester asked.

“I was just thinking about you,” McCall said. “I might come down to the ranch this afternoon. Are you and Virginia going to be around?”

Her grandmother chuckled at that, since she hadn’t left the ranch in twenty-seven years except recently, and that was only to help McCall pick out flowers for her wedding.

“I suppose Virginia will be here,” Pepper said. “Is there something you need to talk to her about?”

“Yes, I’ll be there in about an hour,” McCall said. “Please don’t have Enid cook anything.” She hung up, thinking about her grandmother’s irascible housekeeper. For all the years Pepper had been a recluse, closed up on the ranch, all she’d had for company was Enid Hoagland and her husband, Alfred.

With Alfred gone, now there was only Enid and McCall’s aunt Virginia. Virginia was possibly even a worse companion, given her bitter relationship with her mother. McCall often wondered why she was still at the ranch.

Pepper was convinced her daughter was after the famed Winchester fortune, but McCall suspected Virginia had other reasons for wanting to be with her mother after all these years.

KAYLEY.

Jace looked into those amazing blue eyes of hers and was surprised that they were exactly as they were in his dreams. Her hair was still the color of sunshine, and he knew the feel of it between his fingers the same way he knew the feel of her skin beneath his lips.

“Kayley,” Jace said on a breath. What was she doing here? Last he’d heard she was teaching school in some small town in western Montana.

“Jace,” she said, her wide, full mouth quirking a little as if amused at his reaction to running into her. She would have expected him to return to Whitehorse for his mother and uncle’s funerals, but he didn’t have a clue she’d be in town, even though he should have. She and his mother had always been close.

His mother—he groaned inwardly at the thought of what the sheriff had told him.

“So you’re just home for the funeral,” he asked. Kayley had always been able to knock him off balance. He’d thought he’d outgrown her effect on him. It shocked him that she could still make him feel like a teenager.

She shook her head. “I live here now.”

Damn, but she hadn’t changed. If anything she was more beautiful. Her blond hair was shorter, her blue eyes still like the Montana sky, her wide, full mouth still entirely too kissable. She wore jeans, boots, a checked Western shirt and jean jacket … and no one wore jeans like Kayley Mitchell.

“I came back a year ago. I’m teaching kindergarten here in town.” Her expression softened. “I was so sorry to hear about your mother. Marie was a very special person.”

“Wasn’t she, though.” Marie had adored Kayley and had been devastated when he’d broken the engagement. While his mother had not mentioned Kayley for years, he’d known that Marie kept in touch with her. He’d seen a letter to Kayley at his mother’s house the last time he was in town. That’s how he knew she was teaching in Western Montana. It had been addressed to her at the school.

He’d wondered then if his mother had left the letter out where he could see it. The address had been Miss Kayley Mitchell. Not subtle, but effective. Kayley hadn’t married. At least, she hadn’t been married then.

“So, you came back to Whitehorse,” he said.

“This is home,” she said a little defensively. “I missed it. You’re still doing whatever it was you do.”

“Still,” he said, also feeling defensive.

They stood like that, just looking at each other, neither of them seeming to know what to say. Jace wondered why she didn’t tie into him, tell him what a jackass he’d been to break things off so close to their wedding date. He deserved her anger after what he’d done to her. He thought they’d both feel better if she just let him have it.

“How are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I’m okay.”

She nodded, clearly knowing he was lying. That was the problem with a woman knowing you too well.

“It’s tough, you know, with everything that came with Marie’s death.”

“Marie?” She raised an eyebrow. “She was still your mother no matter what.”

“Yeah.” And Audie was still his uncle, and everyone in the county knew his life history even before he did.

“I know it was hard for you to come back,” she said.

He almost laughed, because he was just wishing to hell he hadn’t. Seeing Kayley made it all worse. If that plane crash had laid him up just a little longer in the jungle …

“If you need any help, or just someone to talk to, for old time’s sake,” she said, “I bought my folks’ place. If you don’t remember the phone number, it’s in the book. They moved to Arizona, spend most of the year there and some with my sister in California, only a month here in the summer.” She stopped abruptly.

He figured she knew he wasn’t going to call.

“My thoughts will be with you tomorrow,” she said.

“It was good to see you,” he said. Good and painful. All these years, he’d tried to convince himself that he’d gotten over her. No wonder he’d gone out of his way on his other visits back home to make sure he didn’t run into her.

“You, too, Jace.” She studied him for a moment, her smile rueful.

As he watched her walk away, he felt all those old feelings rush at him like fighter planes. He swore under his breath, wishing she’d told him what a bastard he was instead of offering to help him through the next few days.

Just the sight of her still stirred a desire in him like no woman ever had.

As he turned toward his rental SUV, he told himself as he had twelve years ago that he would have hurt her worse if he’d married her and stayed in Whitehorse. But even as he told himself that, he couldn’t get one thought out of his mind. What if he hadn’t left? What if he’d stayed and married her? Hell, they could have a couple of kids by now.

That struck him like an arrow to the heart. He stopped as he reached the SUV and was reaching for his keys, when he felt it again. That insane sensation that someone was watching him.

He realized with a sobering shock that normally he was more aware of his surroundings. It was a survival skill in his business. But he’d been so shaken up over everything since getting his mother’s letter and the news of her death and his uncle’s that he’d gotten sloppy.

Now, though, he took in the street. On this side was a row of businesses, a half-dozen pickups parked diagonally in front of them. An elderly woman came out of the hardware store. A man went into the bank at the end of the block. A car came up the street.

He thought for a moment that he’d imagined the feeling of being watched. He’d already realized that he couldn’t trust his instincts earlier with that moment of panic before he’d boarded the plane.

But his instincts told him that he wasn’t so out of it that he’d imagined this.

His gaze fell on a silver SUV like the one he’d rented. It was parked across the street by the park. Someone was sitting behind the wheel, but with the sun glinting off the window …

A pickup went by, casting a long shadow over the SUV across the street. That’s when he saw her. She wore large sunglasses and a hat. She quickly looked away, but he’d recognized her. As he started to cross the street, she hurriedly started the engine and took off, her face turned away. But there was no doubt.

The woman driving the SUV was the woman he’d met at the airport. Ava Carris. What was she doing in Whitehorse? Or maybe more to the point, why was she sitting on the main drag watching him?




Chapter Three


Kayley Mitchell climbed into her pickup, telling herself she was fine. But after several attempts to put her key in the ignition, she gave up and quit pretending, letting the tears come. Jace.

She’d known seeing him again would be hard. She’d thought she was ready to face him. She’d been wrong. Nothing had prepared her for this, even though she’d known he would come home for his mother’s funeral—if he could.

But then Jace had been running from his feelings for years. Could she really be sure what he would do? Especially now after hearing about not only his mother’s death, but also his uncle’s suicide and all that that entailed.

The story was all over town. Her friend and local reporter Andi Jackson had finally done an article about the murders, the baby switch and how Jace Dennison was actually the son of Virginia Winchester. It was all anyone had been talking about for the past month.

Kayley could just imagine how hard all of this was on Jace. She knew seeing her didn’t make things easier for him. Did he think she didn’t know that he seldom came home even to see his mother and uncle, and, when he did, he avoided town? Avoided even the chance he might run into her if she was home visiting?

She had thought for sure that he would come home when he heard about his mother’s illness. But he hadn’t, so she had begun to doubt he would show up for her funeral—until she came out of the store, and there he was.

It had taken her breath away. She was still trembling inside. One look at him and she saw that he’d heard about his uncle. Her heart had gone out to him, even as badly as he’d hurt her. He’d lost his mother and uncle. As far as she knew, he had no other family.

Kayley brushed angrily at her tears. She felt just as she had in high school, her heart pounding, pulse racing, mouth dry as cotton. Hadn’t she cried enough tears for Jace Dennison? He’d broken her heart and she’d never gotten over it. It had taken everything in her not to let him see the effect he had on her.

Not that she ever wanted him to know how much he’d hurt her. Twelve years had dulled the pain but done nothing to temper the desire she still felt for him. She’d moved on, and yet just seeing him had brought it all back, the memory of the two of them together.

She looked around now, afraid she’d been seen crying over him, or, worse, that Jace had witnessed it. Everyone in town would be talking about the two of them as it was. She didn’t need them gossiping about her breakdown on the main drag.

But as she glanced around, she didn’t see Jace. Still, she felt as if someone was watching her.

AVA HAD PANICKED WHEN she’d seen Jace coming across the street toward her car. That had her less upset than the fact that he’d somehow known she was sitting across the street watching him. He’d sensed her.

She’d seen the way he’d looked up, suddenly aware of her. That alone told her she’d been right to follow him to Whitehorse. She’d felt a connection the first time she’d seen him at the Denver airport. It wasn’t just that he looked so much like her deceased husband, John. Something else was going on. She could feel it.

Ava had seen him talking to that woman. That was why she’d driven around the block after her close encounter with Jace. She’d been curious about the woman, picking up something in the way they’d stood as they talked to each other. There was a history there. She could feel it.

She’d gotten around the block in time to see the woman climb into a pickup. Parking, she’d watched her, seen her start to leave, then drop her head to her steering wheel. Even from a few vehicles away, Ava could see that the woman was crying.

Just as she’d thought. There had been something between this woman and Jace.

Ava tried not to hate her. But she knew the type. Blond, blue-eyed, girl next door. A cute little cowgirl. What was the story between the two of them? she wondered as she watched her finally start her vehicle and pull out.

Ava pulled out behind her, following her through town, then north into the country. It was one of those beautiful blue-skied days, the sun coming warm through her windows. She knew she shouldn’t even be in Whitehorse, let alone following this woman, and yet it felt right.

Something had brought her here, something more than Jace Dennison.

Ahead, the cowgirl slowed, then turned down a narrow road. Ava could see a farmhouse set back against a hillside. Several large old cottonwoods framed the picturesque place.

How handy, Ava thought as she realized that this woman lived just down the road from Jace Dennison—according to the address on the letter from his mother.

Ava drove on past, turned around up the road and headed back to town. She slowed just enough at the mailbox on the highway in front of the cowgirl’s house to read the name. K. Mitchell.

She chose a motel on the far edge of town. In the room, she pulled out a phone book. There was only one Mitchell listed. Kayley Mitchell.

Ava was more convinced that the woman wasn’t married. Didn’t the woman know that most women living alone didn’t put their full names in the phone book?

Apparently Kayley thought she was safe living out there all by herself.

While she had the phone book open, she looked up Dennison. She found two numbers, one for an Audie Dennison and another for Marie, the same name as the one on Jace’s letter from his mother. She memorized the phone number for his mother before closing the book.

JACE WAS MORE DETERMINED than ever to get out of town as quickly as possible. After he’d watched Ava Carris drive away, he’d turned back and saw the Milk River Examiner office.

He’d heard that the editor-owner of the paper had written an obit for both Marie and Audie. He was just waiting for Jace’s approval before running it. Marie had gone to school with the man, and Jace knew he was just trying to make things easier for him.

As he stepped inside, Jace spotted a young woman on the phone. She had a Southern accent, and when she turned toward the door, she seemed surprised and a little wary.

“Is Mark Sanders around?” Jace asked as the woman hung up.

“He’s out on calls,” she said, definitely looking nervous. “I’m the reporter, Andi Jackson. The newspaper’s only reporter.”

Jace blinked. “Jackson. Are you …”

“Cade’s wife.”

Cade Jackson, his one-time best friend. “It’s nice to meet you, I think. I’m—”

“Jace Dennison.” She swallowed. “I was the one who wrote the stories about you.”

He’d figured Mark would have tried to keep it out of the newspaper. But apparently Cade’s wife had written about it anyway.

“Everyone in town was talking about it,” she said.

“The rumors were worse than the truth.” She’d been staring at him and now shook her head. “How could anyone not have known you were a Winchester?”

Apparently quite a few people knew. “I’d like to see the papers.”

She nodded and went into the back, returning after only a few minutes. “I heard you were back. I have them ready for you. Also, there are the obits Mark wrote.”

Jace reached for his wallet.

“They’re on me,” she said.

He thought she might apologize for putting his life on the front page of his hometown newspaper. When she didn’t, he said, “You were just doing your job, right?”

“Yes,” she said raising her chin. “And I’m damned good at it.”

Jace had to smile. He liked her, which surprised the hell out of him. Cade had done all right. “I like a woman who stands up for what she believes in,” he said and gave her his cell phone number. “Tell your husband hello for me.”

As Jace left, he glanced across the street, half expecting to see Ava Carris parked on the other side again. But there was no sign of her. He felt an uneasiness as he climbed into the SUV and headed out of town. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation for what she was doing in town and why she was driving a vehicle apparently identical to the one he’d rented.

He glanced over at the newspapers on the seat next to him. One of the headlines caught his eye, and he quickly looked away. Was he really up to reading them?

It dawned on him that Ava Carris could be a reporter who hoped to mine his story further. She could have made up that story about him looking like her husband.

Or she could be a private detective working for the Winchesters.

Neither seemed likely when he thought about the petite, slight woman. But he planned to make a point of asking her the next time he saw her. And he feared there was a damned good chance he’d be seeing her again.

MCCALL DROVE OUT TO THE Winchester ranch, needing to bring the news in person. She hadn’t seen her grandmother since Pepper had come into town to help her pick out flowers for the wedding.

The wedding was now just weeks away. McCall couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone. A Christmas wedding for her and Luke at Winchester ranch. Sometimes she had to pinch herself. It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d never set foot on the ranch, never seen her grandmother, never been accepted as a Winchester.

Nor had it been that long ago that Luke wasn’t in her life. But he’d come back to town, taken the game-warden job and started building a house south of town with apparently only one goal in mind—getting her back.

McCall smiled, glad the man was persistent. She couldn’t wait to marry him. Her only hesitation was that her grandmother might have an ulterior motive in wanting her to get married at the ranch. That and just the thought of her grandmother and mother in the same room.

She pushed those thoughts aside now as she drove under the wooden arch that read Winchester Ranch. Just over the hill she slowed, never tiring of seeing the massive ranch lodge. It was built much in the same fashion as the Old Faithful Lodge in Yellowstone Park and looked of that era.

As she parked and got out, she noticed that her grandmother’s old Blue Heeler didn’t get up, didn’t even growl, as she walked to the door. The dog just watched her as if uninterested.

Before she could knock, Enid opened the door. Her sour look was more accusing than usual.

“It’s been hell here,” the old housekeeper snapped. Enid was one of those broomstick–thin, brittle old women with a nasty disposition.

Everyone in the family wondered why Pepper Winchester kept her on. Most figured Enid had something she held over the matriarch’s head—and they didn’t want to know what it was.

“Pepper and Virginia have been at each other’s throats,” Enid said as she led the way inside.

Nothing new there, McCall thought. From down a long hallway, she heard the sound of her grandmother’s cane tapping on the old hardwood flooring.

Pepper Winchester was a tall, regal-looking woman. What had struck McCall the first time she’d seen her was how much she resembled her grandmother. Since then she’d seen photographs of Pepper at her age. There had been little doubt that McCall was a Winchester.

As usual, her grandmother had her salt-and-peppered dark hair pulled back in a braid that snaked over one shoulder. What was unusual was that her grandmother wasn’t wearing black.

For the past twenty-seven years, Pepper had been a recluse, locked away in this big place with just Enid and Enid’s husband, Alfred. Her grandmother had worn black the entire time.

Today, though, she wore jeans, a Western shirt and moccasins. She looked younger than her seventy-two years and actually smiled as she approached.

“I’m sure Enid complained to you,” she said as she motioned toward the lodge parlor.

A small fire burned there, taking the chill off the November day. McCall took one of the leather chairs and watched her grandmother lower herself into the other one in front of the fire.

“How is Aunt Virginia?” McCall asked.

Pepper made a face. “Angry, sad, bitter. Pretty much what you would expect.”

McCall thought of Jace’s reaction to the news. “Jace Dennison is back in town for his mother’s and uncle’s funerals.”

“You told him?”

McCall nodded. “He didn’t take it well.”

Pepper chuckled. “He wasn’t glad to be a Winchester?” she asked with a wry smile. “Imagine that.”

“I doubt he’ll be in town long. Just long enough to get his business done, and then he’ll be gone, probably for good.”

Pepper nodded. “I have no idea what Virginia is thinking. She’s still angry at me. All these years she suspected I had something to do with her baby dying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You suspected that I had something to do with the babies being switched.”

McCall didn’t deny it. “I can’t imagine what I would be feeling if I found out that the child I gave birth to didn’t die but is alive—and thirty years old.”

“Marie will always be Jace’s mother,” Pepper said.

“Don’t you think Virginia wants to see him? I could talk to her.”

“Talk to me about what?” Virginia said from the doorway. She was tall like her mother, with the Winchester dark coloring, but lacked Pepper’s beauty at her age.

“Jace Dennison is in town for the funerals,” Pepper said to her daughter.

Virginia’s gaze settled on McCall. “You’ve seen him?”

“He’s definitely a Winchester.”

“Handsome?” she asked almost hopefully.

“Very. Stubborn. Independent. And probably impatient just like all the Winchesters,” McCall said.

Virginia smiled ruefully. “You’re trying to tell me that he isn’t going to want to see me.”

“It isn’t up to him,” Pepper snapped. “Do what you want. Just don’t expect miracles.”

“Thank you, Mother,” she said sarcastically.

When McCall looked up, Virginia was gone. She got to her feet. “I should get back to town.”

“I’m glad you took my advice and ran for sheriff.”

McCall laughed. “No one else wanted the job.” She studied her grandmother. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

“I told you. You’re good at what you do. The county needs someone like you.”

McCall wasn’t so sure about that. “Does this desire you have for me to be sheriff have anything to do with my father’s death?”

“We would have never known he was murdered if it wasn’t for you,” her grandmother said. “One of his killers is dead because of you.”

McCall caught the “one of his killers.” “We don’t know that his killer didn’t act alone.”

Her grandmother gave her an impatient look. “Don’t we?”

McCall sighed. “What are you planning to do?”

“Nothing. I know you will find out the truth. That’s why you make such a good sheriff.”

McCall looked at her grandmother and saw there was no reason to waste her breath arguing with her. So she just picked up her hat, kissed her grandmother on her cheek and left.

But as she drove away, she couldn’t help but glance back in her side mirror. Her grandmother stood at the door, watching her leave, an expression of determination etched into the woman’s weathered face.

Pepper Winchester was a force to be reckoned with, and she was convinced that someone in her family had betrayed her—and was a coconspirator in her youngest son’s murder. Clearly, she wouldn’t rest until she found out the truth.

McCall feared what that truth would do to her grandmother.

JACE QUICKLY FORGOT about Ava Carris. Running into Kayley after all these years had him reeling. She’d been the love of his life.

Back in high school he’d thought she always would be. All he’d wanted was to marry her. They’d already started their family—Kayley had been a couple of months pregnant.

He had been so excited about being a father.

Then tragedy had struck. His father died. Two weeks later, Kayley lost the baby. It shattered his picture of the future. Suddenly all that loss had changed everything. Jace knew he had been running from all that pain when he’d left Kayley, left Whitehorse.

He’d hated himself for running out on her, knowing she was in as much pain as he was. But he’d desperately needed space and time. He’d joined the Marines and later left to join an undercover special-ops government program.

He hadn’t looked back. He couldn’t let himself.

The familiar drive north along the Milk River through a landscape devoid of all color seemed surreal. Winter up here meant a monochromatic palette, everything dulled somewhere between white and brown. The drab landscape mirrored his feelings. He would get his mother and uncle buried; then he would put all of this behind him.

He hadn’t gone far when he spotted the mailbox with Dennison on it and slowed to turn down the tree-lined narrow dirt road. The house was an old two-story farmhouse, white with blue shutters.

His treehouse was still in one of the largest old cottonwoods down by the creek. A tire swing hung from one of the larger branches. It moved restlessly in the breeze, reminding him of summer days spent daydreaming in it.

As he pulled in, nothing moved. He half expected his mother to appear in the front doorway. Marie, he thought with no small amount of resentment. She wasn’t the only thing missing. No dog. Jace figured a neighbor must have taken his uncle Audie’s collie. No Audie, either.

He sat for a moment, swamped with memories of a childhood free to wander in the fields and river bottom that ran for miles behind it. A childhood with the little girl who lived down the road.

“It hasn’t all been bad, has it?” Kayley had asked him that last day before he left twelve years ago.

“No,” he’d said. It hadn’t been bad at all. Just the ending.

Getting out, he grabbed the overnight bag he’d brought and walked toward the house where he’d grown up. He wasn’t surprised that the front door wasn’t locked or that the house was spotless. His mother had always kept it that way. He took his bag up to his room.

His mother had left it just as it had been. He stood for a moment in the doorway, before moving down the hall to the guest room.

As he dropped his bag on the double bed, he stepped to the window to look out. He could see his uncle’s house down the road. He would have to sell it, as well.

Back downstairs, he checked the fridge. One of the neighbors must have cleaned it out, just as they had probably been keeping the house up.

He stood for a moment in the empty house and listened, hearing nothing but his own breathing until he couldn’t take it anymore and headed for town. He’d go to the grocery store to stock up on just enough food to last him until he could get the hell out of here.

AVA HAD SPOTTED THE STACK of local newspapers in the office when she’d checked into the motel on the edge of town. They had been piled next to a fireplace, no doubt to be burned.

She’d gone back after she’d settled into the room and asked the girl at the motel desk if she could look at them. Methodically, Ava had gone through them, reading the articles. She was interested in Whitehorse, this town where Jace Dennison was from.

But she was also interested in anything about Kayley Mitchell.

The newspapers went back a good couple of months. Fortunately, they were only a few pages, so it didn’t take long to work her way through them.

She hadn’t gone far when she found a photograph of Miss Kayley Mitchell and her kindergarten class. The cowgirl was an elementary-school teacher? Could she look any sweeter standing there with an arm around two little girls in her class?

Ava wadded up the paper and sailed it across the room before continuing her search. She was shocked when she found the front-page story about two babies being switched at the hospital thirty years before—and how a recent murder tied in. Jace Dennison had been one of the switched babies!

The thought gave her chills. She kept reading, completely engrossed and even more convinced coming here had been destined. Jace needed her.

When she found the funeral notice for Marie and Audie Dennison in the most recent newspaper, she saw that the funeral was tomorrow. She was so glad she hadn’t missed it. She glanced toward her clothes hanging in the closet and smiled. How providential that she still had the black dress she’d worn to her husband’s funeral.

JACE WAS STANDING IN the grocery store checkout aisle when he saw her. “Ava?”

She jumped at the sound of her name, and he thought for a moment she might run out of the store.

He stepped out of line to block her exit just in case she thought about taking off again.

“Jace? Jace Dennison, right?” she said quickly, getting her composure back.

“I thought that was you,” he said, not buying for a moment that she didn’t quite remember his name.

She’d been looking down another aisle when he’d spotted her, as if searching for something. Or someone.

“I hadn’t realized we were headed for the same town in Montana,” he said.

“Small world, isn’t it.”

Not that small. “Are you here alone?” he asked, glancing down the same aisle she had been looking down even though he suspected he was the person she’d been looking for.

“Yes. That is, I’m in town visiting some friends.” She seemed flustered.

“Oh, who are you visiting? I know most everyone around here,” he said. It wasn’t quite true. He’d been gone so long that he hadn’t recognized anyone since he’d been in town. Except for Kayley. And McCall.

“My friends aren’t from Whitehorse,” she said. “They’re just passing through, so I decided to meet them up here. They love dinosaurs, and with the Leonardo museum nearby … We’re all staying at the same motel. I was just getting a few snacks for later.”

He saw that she had a small basket. In it were crackers and a wedge of cheese. He realized that there might be some truth to her story. It made more sense than what he’d been thinking, that was for sure.

“I personally am not that interested in fossils,” she said, smiling. “I’m sure you’ve been to the museum.”

“Yes.” He’d forgotten how small and delicate she was. A wisp of a woman. Certainly no threat. And certainly no reporter or private investigator. Just a lonely widow with a lot of time on her hands.

“I think you’ll enjoy it,” he said, realizing just how unreliable his instincts were since hearing of his mother’s death—and all the news that followed. “The other museum is just across the parking lot. It has a lot of Montana history. That might be more to your liking.”

“Thank you. I’ll make sure I see it.”

“Well, enjoy your visit,” he said and got back in line. Ava disappeared down the aisle. Once outside, he climbed behind the wheel of the SUV, started the engine and glanced back.

Had he expected to see Ava Carris watching him from inside the store?

She was nowhere in sight.

Shaking off his earlier crazy thoughts about her stalking him, he drove away.




Chapter Four


Ava knew it was just a matter of time before her sister found out she hadn’t flown to Seattle as she’d planned. She’d seen the message this morning when she’d checked her cell phone, but she’d been avoiding calling her sister back.

A mistake. It would only make Evie more determined to know what was going on. The last thing she needed was her sister butting into things. Now, still shaken after running into Jace Dennison, Ava moved to the back of the store and dug out her cell phone, deciding the best way to head off trouble was to call Evie back.

She and Evie were so close they could finish each others’ sentences. She’d always feared that Evie could read her thoughts. That fear was realized when Evie answered on the first ring and demanded, “Who is he?”

“It isn’t always about a man,” she said defensively.

“With you it is. You’re going to make a fool of yourself.”

“No. It isn’t like that.”

“So, what is it like?” her sister asked snidely.

Ava wasn’t sure.

Evie heard her hesitate. “Where are you? I’m coming there.”

“No. I need to be on my own for a while.”

“John wouldn’t want you to be alone.”

She hated it when Evie brought up John. She missed him so much. “I’m not alone. I have to go. Please, just stay away.”

John hadn’t liked it when Evie had shown up shortly after they’d gotten married. She was always there, butting in, causing trouble.

“She’s my sister. What do you want me to do?” Ava used to plead with him.

“I can’t deal with you and your sister.” He would storm off, and she would plead with Evie to give her some space.

But would Evie listen?

“Ava?” Evie had that patient tone that meant she wasn’t going to give up. “Tell me where you are. You know I’ll find you. Why make it more difficult for me and put me in a foul mood when I see you?”

She sighed, knowing it was true. She could never get away from Evie. It had always been that way.

“I’m in Whitehorse, Montana, but I don’t want you to come here.” Evie wouldn’t like what she was doing. “Please, Evie.”

She hung up and remembered the quart of orange juice she’d seen Jace Dennison had in his grocery basket. She could almost taste it as she found the refrigerated aisle and bought herself a quart of juice just like his.

VIRGINIA WINCHESTER HAD always thought that her life would have been so different if her baby had lived.

But in reality she wasn’t all that convinced things would have turned out for the better.

The father of her baby hadn’t jumped at marrying her when she’d told him she was pregnant. She’d been convinced he would, though, once the baby was born and he saw his precious son.

Jordan McCormick never even saw the baby before the son they’d conceived had died. Nor had he attended the funeral.

At the time, Virginia had blamed his mother for keeping him away. Now she wondered if he’d known what his mother had done and that the baby Virginia had buried wasn’t his. Wasn’t it possible he’d known all along that Marie Dennison was raising his child?

That would mean that Joanna McCormick had told her son that she’d paid someone to switch the babies.

Virginia felt a surge of anger and frustration at the thought. Maybe everyone had known but her. Now there was no way of knowing. Jordon had died in a ranching accident not long after that, and his mother was in prison, not talking after a plea bargain that got her life instead of the death sentence.

Jordan, Virginia now realized, would have never married her. His mother wouldn’t have allowed it—just as her own mother had told her.

And even if he’d gotten up the gumption to stand up to his mother and do right by Virginia, she knew Joanna would never have allowed her son to stay on the ranch, let alone live there with Virginia and the baby.

Just as Virginia’s own mother would never have allowed her and Jordan on the Winchester ranch. Joanna McCormick and Pepper Winchester hated each other. Virginia knew only what she’d heard through the county grapevine, but apparently her mother had been in love with Joanna’s husband, Hunt McCormick.

Nothing had come of it, but still all that bad blood had spilled over onto their children.

Jordan had never been strong enough to stand up to his mother. Virginia wasn’t any better with her own mother. So what would have happened to her and her son?

Any way she looked at it, Virginia knew she would have ended up raising their son alone. She had barely been able to take care of herself when her mother had thrown all of them off the ranch three years later.

She had seen how her brothers had struggled without money or a place to live after growing up being taken care of on the Winchester ranch. They’d been forced to get jobs just as Virginia had. At least she hadn’t had a baby to support and care for, as well.

Her mother had asked her why she’d come back here. It wasn’t out of love for her mother. She hadn’t known why she’d come back.

Pepper was convinced it was for the Winchester money, but then her mother always thought the worst of her children. Except for her youngest son, Trace.

Virginia had never known what it was like to love a child so much that you could turn your back on everything and everyone else, including your other children.

Or love a child so much that when you lost him you would lock yourself away for twenty-seven years as her mother had done.

Virginia had never known that kind of love. Not for the child she thought she’d lost or for the man she’d thought she loved enough to have a child with him.

But like her mother, she’d let the past keep her isolated in other ways from the world.

And now to find out that her child hadn’t died. That her son was alive and well and in town ….

She had to see him, she thought as she dressed for the funerals of Marie and Audie Dennison. She knew no one in town would expect her to attend. She didn’t know Marie or her brother.

But she wanted to see her son.

THE WEATHER CHANGED THE night before the funeral. Jace woke to dull skies and a wind that whipped the bare branches on the cottonwoods outside the guest bedroom.

He’d grown up in this house, knew every creak and groan, but now it felt too quiet. Not that he believed in ghosts, but he now had the strange feeling that he wasn’t alone here.

That kind of thinking made him all too aware that he wasn’t himself. He’d actually thought Ava Carris had followed him to Whitehorse.

He showered and went downstairs to put on the coffee. From the refrigerator he took out the quart of orange juice he’d bought at the store, unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. As he put it back in the fridge, he saw a pickup coming up the road.

He didn’t recognize it, but then why should he? He’d been gone so long no one drove the same rigs they had. To his surprise, Kayley Mitchell climbed out and walked toward the house.

Glancing down, he realized that he was wearing only jeans, his chest and feet bare. He thought about making a run upstairs to get a shirt, but she was already at the door. What did she want? He swore. He was about to find out.

Moving toward the door in anticipation of her knock, he heard her put something down, then turn and go back down the steps. He started to open the door, but she was already sliding behind the wheel of her truck.

He stared after her as she drove off, wondering why she hadn’t bothered to knock. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to see him. Jace was thankful for that. It would have been awkward, to say the least.

Still, it seemed odd, and he waited until her pickup turned onto the highway at the end of the drive and disappeared before he opened the door to see what she’d left.

A note was taped to the foil covering the casserole dish lying just outside the door.

This used to be your favorite. I hope it still is. Kayley

One whiff of the casserole brought with it a wave of memories that threatened to drown him. Kayley used to make this all the time for him back when they were engaged. She’d gotten the recipe from his mother. Marie, he corrected with a scowl as he brought the dish inside and closed the front door.

It wasn’t long before more people began to arrive with food. Fortunately, he’d gotten dressed after Kayley left. He’d forgotten how the community came together when there was a death.

“A lot of people loved your mother,” a neighbor told him when she dropped off chicken and dumpings and a pan of brownies.

“Marie will be missed,” the woman said, her voice breaking.

Jace couldn’t help feeling touched by their love and generosity. But what was he supposed to do with all this food? They must think he was staying around for a while. The thought made him reach for the phone book.

He dialed a local Realtor, a girl named Clare whom he’d gone to school with, and had her list the two houses and the land. “I’ll also need to sell off the livestock, so maybe you know someone I could talk to about that?”

She did. But she wasn’t encouraging about selling the place quickly. “I’m afraid not much is selling right now,” Clare told him.

“Just get me what you can,” he said and hung up as another neighbor drove up. He went out to help her carry in fried chicken and potato salad.

At least he wouldn’t go hungry.

AT THE CEMETERY, WIND whipped what leaves hadn’t already blown away. They scattered across the neatly mowed yellowed grass, making a rustling sound as the bare cottonwood limbs groaned overhead.

The air smelled of fall as Jace climbed out of his pickup. It was a scent like no other he’d experienced since he’d left here and added to the nostalgic melancholy he’d been feeling since his return.

A crowd had already gathered around the grave sites. He was thankful that he’d opted for a graveside ceremony only. He knew he couldn’t have taken being closed in by all the people crammed in the mortuary building.

He couldn’t believe he was burying his mother and uncle. He didn’t give a damn what anyone said, but he would always think of Marie as his mother. He didn’t care if the sheriff had DNA proof. He sure as hell wasn’t a Winchester, nor would he ever be one.

As he started toward the two covered holes that had been dug in the ground after the earth had been heated enough to dig, Jace tried not to think about any of it. All he had to do was get through this day.

He thought of his mother. She’d finally gotten him home. He felt his eyes burn, his heart aching. If only he could have gotten home in time to see her just once more before she died.

He had no doubt what she would have wanted to tell him. The thought broke his heart. He knew he wouldn’t have handled her deathbed confession well and was thankful it hadn’t happened.

It had been enough of a shock to hear it from the sheriff. This way, he would never know just how much Marie had known about the baby switch or if she’d had a part in it. And she would never know how angry he was with her and his uncle for keeping this secret from him all these years.

As the caskets were removed from the hearses, he watched his uncle’s being lifted and thought of Audie. Everyone always said he would have done anything for his older sister. Well, he’d proved that, Jace thought.

The attendants were removing his mother’s casket when he felt himself stop walking before reaching the crowd.





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