Honor Bound Read online

  Protecting her life will mean betraying her trust

  Ainsley Hamilton has always been the responsible one of the family. As the oldest daughter of presidential candidate Buckmaster Hamilton, she’s also a potential target. For months she’s sensed someone following her. When an expedition to scout locations for a commercial takes a terrifying turn, she’s rescued by a natural-born cowboy who tempts the good girl to finally let loose.

  Sawyer Nash knows just how reckless it is to fall for someone he’s gone undercover to protect. Yet masquerading as an extra on set, he starts to see beneath Ainsley’s controlled facade. And with the election—and a killer—drawing closer, Sawyer stands to lose not just his job and his life but the woman for whom he’d gladly risk both.

  Praise for New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels

  “Crossing multiple genres, Daniels successfully combines Western romance, suspense and political intrigue with ease.”

  —RT Book Reviews on Hard Rain

  “The heartwarming romance gets wrapped up here, but the book ends with a cliff-hanger that is sure to have fans anxious for the next title in the series.”

  —Library Journal on Lucky Shot

  “Forget slow-simmering romance: the multiple story lines weaving in and out of Big Timber, Montana, mean the second Montana Hamiltons contemporary...is always at a rolling boil.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Lone Rider

  “[The Montana Hamiltons] should definitely be on the must read list... A great introduction for new readers to this amazing author.”

  —Fresh Fiction on Wild Horses

  “Truly amazing crime story for every amateur sleuth.”

  —Fresh Fiction on Mercy

  “Daniels is truly an expert at Western romantic suspense.”

  —RT Book Reviews on Atonement

  “Will keep readers on the edge of their chairs from beginning to end.”

  —Booklist on Forsaken

  “Action-packed and chock-full of suspense.”

  —Under the Covers on Redemption

  “Fans of Western romantic suspense will relish Daniels’ tale of clandestine love played out in a small town on the Great Plains.”

  —Booklist on Unforgiven

  Also available from B.J. Daniels and HQN Books

  The Montana Hamiltons

  Honor Bound

  Into Dust

  Hard Rain

  Lucky Shot

  Lone Rider

  Wild Horses

  Beartooth, Montana

  Mercy

  Atonement

  Forsaken

  Redemption

  Unforgiven

  New York Times Bestselling Author

  B.J. Daniels

  Honor Bound

  With utmost appreciation I dedicate this last book in the series to my agent, Lisa Erbach Vance. Thank you so much for taking this journey with me.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  EXCERPT FROM WILD HORSES BY B.J. DANIELS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Election night

  IT WAS THE old priest’s limp that caught Ainsley Hamilton’s attention as the presidential election results were announced over the loudspeaker. A deafening roar rose from the bundled-up crowd gathered at the fairgrounds outside Beartooth, Montana, that cold November night.

  Her father, Buckmaster Hamilton, had just been announced the new president. Music began to play loudly as the throng cheered. She watched the priest, hunched over his cane, edging ever closer to the platform where her father would be giving his acceptance speech. Ice crystals danced in the night air against the backdrop of the Crazy Mountains. Millions of stars twinkled in the velvet blue of Montana’s big sky overhead. There was an excitement in the air as well, an electricity that had her feeling warm inside.

  Ainsley’s heart surged. She was so proud of her father, so happy for him. This was his night. He’d worked hard to get here. She told herself that nothing could spoil it for him, especially her sister Kat’s concerns about security. The fairgrounds were crawling with Secret Service agents, sheriff’s department deputies and National Guard; even the sheriff himself was here.

  Her gaze went again to the priest as he limped forward. The crowd parted for him, seeing his physical disabilities as well as his determination to get closer. When he finally reached the elevated platform where she was standing with her family, he leaned heavily on the cane as if trying to catch his breath. Like her, he must have wanted to be part of this history-making night.

  Another roar erupted from those gathered as her father strode out onto the stage. He smiled and nodded, then turned to motion to his wife and six daughters. They had been waiting in the wings out of the cold for this moment. Ainsley looked at her sisters.

  Bo smiled at her, so pregnant with her twins that she appeared to be wearing a small tent. The grown twins, Harper and Cassidy, were holding hands, both crying. Olivia was dabbing at her eyes, as well. It was clear that they had all been moved to tears, all except sister Kat, who looked nervous as their mother led the way across the stretch of red carpet to her waiting husband.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ainsley noticed that the old priest was straining to see. His limp looked painful, she thought as she saw him clutch his cane with both hands. She knew her interest in him was because of his limp. It reminded her of another man, a man she’d trusted her heart to recently only to have it broken.

  As if she needed a limp to remind her of Sawyer Nash and what a fool she’d been. Thoughts of him were never more than a heartbeat away. Unconsciously, she ran a fingertip over the burn scar on her wrist, another reminder of Sawyer.

  The crowd was roaring again as Sarah joined her husband, followed by one daughter after another. Ainsley fell back, letting her sisters go ahead of her. Too many emotions had her feeling vulnerable. She wasn’t ready to face all of these people right now.

  As Kat started down the carpet to join their father, Ainsley had no choice but to join them. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that this night was for her father, the first Montanan to be elected president. The excitement of the crowd filled her heart to bursting.

  Standing on the platform next to her family, she smiled at her father through her tears. Her pride in him closed her throat as she tried not to cry with this many people watching.

  Fortunately, the cameras—just like the Secret Service agents—were trained on the future president as he hugged each of them and then stepped to the microphone to make his acceptance speech. She and her five sisters and mother moved back to
ward the warm room again as he took his place to the applause of the massive crowd.

  Buckmaster Hamilton had won by a landslide, and no one within four hundred miles wanted to miss this, even on such a cold night.

  Ainsley had been making her way back, willing herself not to cry, when the priest looked up and their eyes met. Recognition made her stumble. She would have fallen if her mother hadn’t caught her arm.

  But Ainsley hardly noticed. She was staring down into the priest’s face. He wasn’t as old as he had seemed when she’d first spotted him moving through the crowd, leaning so heavily on his cane. Even more shocking was that she knew him. A childhood memory surfaced in a wave of guilt because of the promise she’d been forced to keep all those years ago.

  The man had been younger back then, but so had her mother. From her bedroom window, she’d watched the two of them out by the stables.

  Ainsley, barely twelve, had seen at once that there was something wrong as the man had approached her mother. Her mother had taken a step back. Suddenly the man had grabbed her mother’s arm. Her mother had been struggling to get free of him. Ainsley hadn’t been able to hear them, but she could tell that they were arguing.

  She’d rushed down the stairs and ran out to the cool shadows of the stables where they were standing. The man had seen her and quickly let go of her mother’s arm. She’d been close enough that she heard what he said to her mother.

  “This isn’t over, Sarah.” Then he’d disappeared around the back of the building, but not before his gaze had bored into Ainsley. She’d known she would never forget those eyes. An electric blue that felt as if they had branded her.

  “Who was that?” she’d demanded of her mother, recalling how he’d said her mother’s first name.

  “No one.” Her mother had quickly wiped her eyes. “A stable hand. I had to fire him.”

  “He hurt you!” Ainsley had cried, seeing where the man’s fingers had bit into her mother’s arm.

  “I’m fine,” she’d said, pulling down her sleeve to hide it before she’d taken Ainsley’s shoulders in her trembling hands. “You can’t tell anyone about this, your sisters, especially your father. It will only upset him. I’ve taken care of it. The man won’t be back. Do you hear me? Promise you won’t ever tell.”

  “But he said—”

  “Please.”

  It was the word please coming out almost as a sob that had made Ainsley make a promise she’d guiltily kept all these years. Weeks later her mother would drive her SUV into the Yellowstone River and be presumed dead when her body wasn’t recovered from the iced-over river. For twenty-two years her mother would be dead—until recently when she’d returned from the grave with no memory of where she’d been.

  Now those electric-blue eyes from her childhood burned into hers for one startling instant before they shifted to where her mother was standing next to her after steadying Ainsley when she’d stumbled.

  It happened in a split second. But felt like slow motion. The man’s hands twisted the top off the cane. Even when he raised what looked like a toy plastic pistol, she knew it was as real as her memory. Even as her mind argued that he would have had to go through security to get in here tonight, she knew he’d somehow avoided detection. Just as she knew he’d come here not to kill the new president—but the woman he’d argued with all those years ago.

  As he raised the weapon, pointing it at her mother, Ainsley cried out. But her voice was lost in the roar of the crowd. All eyes, including those of the Secret Service agents, were on the president, not the old priest.

  Ainsley didn’t remember pushing her mother aside to launch herself at the man holding the gun. She didn’t hear the weapon discharge. She hadn’t even been sure he’d fired until she felt the burning heat an instant before she crashed into him, taking them both down. She hit hard, heard screams around her and a struggle.

  The cold November night and the canopy of stars seemed to move in and out. Her chest burned while the rest of her felt as if she were freezing. Sounds were indistinguishable. Above her she caught glimpses of faces. They seemed to sway in the breeze.

  Arms came around her, and a male voice was saying, “She’s hit. Get an ambulance! Hurry! Ainsley, can you hear me? Stay with me, sweetheart.”

  “Sawyer?” She blinked, thinking she must be hallucinating or dying, because then she heard Kitzie’s voice. “Sawyer! You’d better see this!”

  Fading in and out, Ainsley heard the commotion around her as she was lifted into strong arms. She fought to bring the man’s face into focus, but the darkness closed in, and she dropped into it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Days before

  “HEY, COWBOY, I heard about that stunt you pulled. Chasing a killer on the top of a moving train? Who do you think you are? A modern-day John Wayne?”

  Sawyer Nash chuckled into the phone, unconsciously rubbing his injured leg. “The chasing part wasn’t bad. It was the getting shot and falling off the train that bruised my ego.”

  “Sounds like it bruised a lot more than that.” Sheriff Frank Curry grew solemn on the other end of the telephone line. “Seriously, how are you?”

  “Bored. The doc says I can’t go back to work for a few months. They tried to saddle me with an office job, but you know me.”

  “I do. You like to be where the action is.”

  “Same could be said about you, Frank. How are you doing?”

  A long silence filled the line, making Sawyer sit up straighter.

  “I’m thinking about retiring after the election,” the sheriff said.

  “Really? Have anything to do with who gets elected?”

  “Not exactly. But that’s why I wanted to talk to you. As you know, our local rancher and senator, Buckmaster Hamilton, is the Republican candidate for president.”

  “If this is about canvassing for his vote, he’s got it.”

  Frank laughed. “No, it’s about his daughters. Well, one daughter in particular.”

  “Oh?”

  “I hear she’s in your part of the state. Her name is Ainsley Hamilton. She’s the oldest of the senator’s daughters. The other five are living around here now. Bottom line—I’m worried about her. Apparently there’s been some man following her off and on for months now.”

  “A reporter?”

  “I don’t think so. She was home for a visit recently and happened to mention it. She thought maybe her father had hired him to keep an eye on her. Buckmaster swears he didn’t, and I believe him. It just seems...odd.”

  “You think it has something to do with her father’s run for president?”

  “Seems likely.”

  “She get a good look at this guy?”

  “Apparently not. He wears a cowboy hat, keeps his distance, but according to her, he’s followed her from town to town.”

  “What does this Hamilton daughter do that takes her from town to town?” Sawyer asked.

  “She’s working as a scout for movie and television commercial locations in the state. I realize you’re not a hundred percent—”

  “More like seventy-five to eighty.”

  “So you wouldn’t be up to seeing if you could find out what’s going on?” Frank asked.

  “As bored as I am? Are you kidding? Anyway, it sounds pretty cut-and-dried. I can check it out. If he’s tailing her, he shouldn’t be hard to spot. I could have a little talk with him.”

  “I’ll email you everything you need to know to get started. Just send me the bill,” the sheriff said.

  “Not a chance. I owe you. You’re the one who got me into law enforcement to begin with.”

  “And look how that turned out.”

  * * *

  AINSLEY HAMILTON REINED in her horse to look back toward the mouth of the narrow canyon. Shielding her eyes from the gla
ring sun, she glanced past the walls of rock to the dark pine trees at the entrance.

  The Montana sky was a cloudless blue overhead, the sun hot on her back, but there was a bite in the air reminding her it was almost November. Winter wouldn’t be far behind. But fortunately, this was her last contract finding locations for productions. She hadn’t even wanted to take this one, but Devon “Gun” Gunderson had made her an offer she’d felt she couldn’t refuse. It had been fun for a while, but dealing with directors was getting her down.

  Gunderson turned out to be worse than most because he was a perfectionist. He kept changing locations so it was no surprise that the commercial had run over schedule. She’d never imagined it would take this long to shoot. She’d already been here for two days, and as far as she could tell, she would be here another two or three days, maybe longer.

  The canyon ahead of her would make a beautiful spot to shoot one of the last scenes before the commercial for a pharmaceutical drug company wrapped. But she wasn’t sure she could convince Gunderson of it. While the others on his crew called him Gun, she couldn’t bring herself to because he seemed to like his nickname too much.

  At a noise nearby, Ainsley turned. A few moments ago she’d heard what sounded like someone behind her. Listening, she heard only the wind high above the canyon walls. Turning back, she studied the opening in the walls of rock. Nothing moved.

  Had she been followed from the old mountain resort? Gunderson had gotten accommodations for them, even though the place had already closed for the season.

  But that didn’t mean that whoever had been following her for months wasn’t behind one of the trees or rocks in this very Western-looking part of the state watching her. She’d sensed someone watching her for so long, that this time she could be only imagining it.

  But her instincts told her it wasn’t her imagination. Over the months, she’d often sensed the man’s presence. As she did now. It gave her an eerie vulnerable feeling she didn’t like. If only the man would show himself. She’d gladly confront him. But he was careful never to let her get a good look at him. All she’d gotten were glimpses of a shadowy figure wearing a dark-colored Western hat.