Iron Will

  Are a dead woman’s secrets

  enough to kill for...?

  Hank Savage has always believed his old girlfriend was murdered. Now he’s come home to Cardwell Ranch and, with the help of PI Frankie Brewster, is determined to find the killer. Trying to keep their feelings at bay, Hank and Frankie quickly learn that every lead reveals a life steeped in secrets—and danger. And that someone from Hank’s past will do anything to keep the truth from being revealed.

  “You can take care of yourself, right? Never need any help.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Frankie opened her door and got out.

  Hank swore and, throwing the pickup into Park, got out and went after her. “Frankie, wait.”

  She stopped and turned back to him.

  “I don’t know what your story is, but I do know this,” he said. “You have closed yourself off for some reason. I recognize the signs because I’ve done it for the past three years. In your case, I suspect some man’s to blame, the one who keeps calling. One question. Is he dangerous?”

  She started to step away, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back around to face him again.

  “I’m fine. There is nothing to worry about.”

  He shook his head but let go of her arm. “You are one stubborn woman.”

  He couldn’t help but smile because there was a strength and independence in her that he admired.

  He’d never known a woman quite like her…

  IRON WILL

  New York Times Bestselling Author

  B.J. Daniels

  B.J. Daniels is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. She wrote her first book after a career as an award-winning newspaper journalist and author of thirty-seven published short stories. She lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, and three springer spaniels. When not writing, she quilts, boats and plays tennis. Contact her at bjdaniels.com, on Facebook or on Twitter, @bjdanielsauthor.

  Books by B.J. Daniels

  Harlequin Intrigue

  Cardwell Ranch: Montana Legacy

  Steel Resolve

  Iron Will

  Whitehorse, Montana: The Clementine Sisters

  Hard Rustler

  Rogue Gunslinger

  Rugged Defender

  The Montana Cahills

  Cowboy’s Redemption

  Whitehorse, Montana: The McGraw Kidnapping

  Dark Horse

  Dead Ringer

  Rough Rider

  HQN Books

  Sterling’s Montana

  Stroke of Luck

  Luck of the Draw

  The Montana Cahills

  Renegade’s Pride

  Outlaw’s Honor

  Hero’s Return

  Rancher’s Dream

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

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  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Hank Savage—The cowboy doubts he’ll ever get over the death of his first love. But now he’s back at Cardwell Ranch, determined to prove she was murdered. And he didn’t come alone.

  Francesca “Frankie” Brewster—The PI was hesitant to take the case. But she had her own reasons for wanting to leave town right now.

  Naomi Hill—She wanted the fantasy—marriage, a home, a husband with a good job and the kids—and she’d do almost anything to get it. Even die.

  Randall “Butch” Clark—He was more than Naomi’s former boyfriend. He was her confidant, so he knew her secrets.

  Tamara Baker—The bartender might have messed up a few too many times and now it was going to cost her.

  Darrel Sanders—All he was doing was trying to make a living and keep from getting killed.

  Carrie White—Her best friend seemed to have everything that Naomi had ever wanted.

  Marshal Hud Savage—He’d dreamed of reconciling with his son. Now Hank was back, so why was he suspicious?

  Dana Cardwell Savage—The ranchwoman wanted only two things. For her son to come home and for him to put Naomi and the past behind him. Was she going to get more than she’d hoped for?

  This one is for Paula Morrison, who believes like I do that if

  one schlep bag is a great idea, then let’s make a dozen.

  Thanks for making Quilting by the Border quilt club so fun.

  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

  Excerpt from Just His Luck by B.J. Daniels

  Excerpt from The Stranger Next Door by Debra Webb

  Chapter One

  Hank Savage squinted into the sun glaring off the dirty windshield of his pickup as his family ranch came into view. He slowed the truck to a stop, resting one sun-browned arm over the top of the steering wheel as he took in the Cardwell Ranch.

  The ranch with all its log-and-stone structures didn’t appear to have changed in the least. Nor had the two-story house where he’d grown up. Memories flooded him of hours spent on the back of a horse, of building forts in the woods around the creek, of the family sitting around the large table in the kitchen in the mornings, the sun pouring in, the sound of laughter. He saw and felt everything he’d given up, everything he’d run from, everything he’d lost.

  “Been a while?” asked the sultry, dark-haired woman in the passenger seat.

  He nodded despite the lump in his throat, shoved back his Stetson and wondered what the hell he was doing back here. This was a bad idea, probably his worst ever.

  “Having second thoughts?” He’d warned her about his big family, but she’d said she could handle it. He wasn’t all that sure even he could handle it. He prided himself on being fearless about most things. Give him a bull that hadn’t been ridden and he wouldn’t hesitate to climb right on. Same with his job as a lineman. He’d faced gale winds hanging from a pole to get the power back on, braved getting fried more times than he liked to remember.

  But coming back here, facing the past? He’d never been more afraid. He knew it was just a matter of time before he saw Naomi—just as he had in his dreams, in his nightmares. She was here, right where he’d left her, waiting for him as she had been for three long years. Waiting for him to come back and make things right.

  He looked over at Frankie. “You sure about this?”

  She sat up straighter to gaze at the ranch and him, took a breath and let it out. “I am if you are. After all, this was your idea.”

  Like she had to remind him. “Then I suggest you slide over here.” He patted the seat between them and she moved over, cuddling against him as he put his free arm around her. She felt small and fragile, certainly not ready for what he suspected they would be facing. For a moment, he almost changed his mind. It wasn’t too late. He didn’t have the right to involve her.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she said and nuzzled his neck where h
is dark hair curled at his collar. “Trust me.”

  He pulled her closer and let his foot up off the brake. The pickup began to roll toward the ranch. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Frankie. He just knew that it was only a matter of time before Naomi came to him pleading with him to do what he should have done three years ago. He felt a shiver even though the summer day was unseasonably warm.

  I’m here.

  Chapter Two

  “Looking out that window isn’t going to make him show up any sooner,” Marshal Hud Savage said to his wife.

  “I can’t help being excited. It’s been three years.” Dana Cardwell Savage knew she didn’t need to tell him how long it had been. Hud had missed his oldest son as much or more than she had. But finally Hank was coming home—and bringing someone with him. “Do you think it’s because he’s met someone that he’s coming back?”

  Hud put a large hand on her shoulder. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions, okay? We won’t know anything until he gets here. I just don’t want to see you get your hopes up.”

  Her hopes were already up, so there was no mitigating that. Family had always been the most important thing to her. Having her sons all fly the nest had been heartbreak, especially Hank, especially under the circumstances.

  She told herself not to think about that. Nothing was going to spoil this day. Her oldest son was coming home after all this time. That had to be good news. And he was bringing someone. She hoped that meant Hank was moving on from Naomi.

  “Is that his pickup?” she cried as a black truck came into view. She felt goose bumps pop up on her arms. “I think that’s him.”

  “Try not to cry and make a fuss,” her husband said even as tears blurred her eyes. “Let them at least get into the yard,” he said as she rushed to the front door and threw it open. “Why do I bother?” he mumbled behind her.

  * * *

  FRANKIE KNEW THE sixty-two-year-old woman who rushed out on the porch had to be Dana Cardwell Savage. Hank had told her about his family. She thought about the softness that came into his voice when he talked about his mother. She’d heard about Dana’s strength and determination, but she could also see it in the way she stood hugging herself in her excitement and her curiosity.

  Hank had warned her that him bringing home a woman would cause a stir. Frankie could see his mother peering inside the pickup, trying to imagine what woman had stolen her son’s heart. She felt a small stab of guilt but quickly pushed it away as a man appeared behind Dana.

  Marshal Hud Savage. She’d also heard a lot about him. When Hank had mentioned his dad, she’d seen the change not just in his tone, but his entire body. The trouble between the two ran deep. While Dana was excited, holding nothing back, Frankie could see that Hud was reserved. He had to worry that this wouldn’t be a happy homecoming considering the way he’d left things with his oldest son.

  Hank’s arm tensed around her as he parked and cut the engine. She had the feeling that he didn’t want to let her go. He finally eased his hold on her, then gave her a gentle squeeze. “We can do this, right? Ready?”

  “As I will ever be,” she said, and he opened his door. The moment he did, Dana rushed down the steps to throw her arms around her son. Tears streamed down her face unchecked. She hugged him, closing her eyes, breathing him in as if she’d thought she might never see him again.

  Frankie felt her love for Hank at heart level. She slowly slid under the steering wheel and stepped down. Hud, she noticed, had descended the stairs, but stopped at the bottom, waiting, unsure of the reception he was going to get. Feeling for him, she walked around mother and son to address him.

  “Hi, I’m Frankie. Francesca, but everyone calls me Frankie.” She held out her hand, and the marshal accepted it in his large one as his gaze took her measure. She took his as well. Hud Savage was scared that this visit wasn’t an olive branch. Scared that his son was still too angry with him. Probably more scared that he was going to let down his wife by spoiling this reunion.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” the marshal said, his voice rough with what she suspected was emotion. A lot was riding on what would happen during this visit, she thought, and Hud didn’t know the half of it.

  “Frankie,” Hank said behind her. His voice broke. “I want you to meet my mom, Dana.”

  She turned and came face-to-face with the ranch woman. Dana had been a beauty in her day; anyone could see that. But even in her sixties, she was still very attractive with her salt-and-pepper dark hair and soft, gentle features. She was also a force to be reckoned with. Dana eyed her like a mama bear, one who was sizing her up for the position of daughter-in-law.

  Whatever Dana saw and thought of her, the next thing Frankie knew, she was being crushed in the woman’s arms. “It is so wonderful to meet you,” Dana was saying tearfully.

  Behind her, Frankie heard Hud say hello to his son.

  “Dad,” Hank said with little enthusiasm, and then Dana was ushering them all into the house, telling her son that she’d baked his favorite cookies and made his favorite meal.

  Frankie felt herself swept up in all of it as she told herself this would work out—even against her better judgment.

  * * *

  “HANK SEEMS GOOD, doesn’t he,” Dana said later that night when the two of them were in bed. She’d told herself that things had gone well and that once Hank was home for a while, they would get even better. She hadn’t been able to ignore the tension between her son and husband. It made her heart ache because she had no idea how to fix the problem.

  “He seems fine.” Hud didn’t look up from the crime novel he was reading.

  “Frankie is pretty, isn’t she.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “She’s not what I expected. Not really Hank’s type, don’t you think?”

  Hud glanced over at her. “It’s been three years since we’ve seen him. We have no idea what his type is. He probably doesn’t know either. He’s still young. I thought Naomi wasn’t his type.” He went back to his book.

  “He’s thirty-three, not all that young if he wants to have a family,” she said. “It’s just that Frankie isn’t anything like Naomi.”

  “Maybe that’s the attraction.”

  She heard what he didn’t say in his tone. Maybe that’s a blessing. Hud had never thought Naomi was right for Hank. “I suppose it might be why he’s attracted to her. I just never thought he’d get over Naomi.”

  Hud reached over and, putting down his book, turned out his bedside light. “Good night,” he said pointedly.

  She took the hint and switched off her own lamp as her husband rolled over, turning his back to her. Within minutes he would be sound asleep, snoring lightly, while she lay awake worrying. The worst part was that she couldn’t put her finger on what made her anxious about Hank coming home now and bringing a young woman.

  “He wants to move on, put Naomi and all that ugliness behind him, don’t you think?” She glanced over at Hud’s broad back, but knew he wasn’t going to answer because he didn’t have the answer any more than she did.

  She was just glad that Hank was home for however long he planned to stay and that he wasn’t alone anymore. “As long as he’s happy...” Hud began to snore softly. She sighed and closed her eyes, silently mouthing her usual nightly prayers that her family all be safe and happy, and thanking God for bringing Hank home.

  * * *

  “IT’S BEAUTIFUL HERE,” Frankie said as she stood on the guest cabin deck overlooking the rest of the ranch in the starlight. The cabin was stuck back high against the mountain looking down on the ranch and the Gallatin River as it wound past. “I feel like I can see forever. Are those lights the town?” she asked as Hank joined her.

  “Big Sky, Montana,” he said with little enthusiasm.

  She turned to him. “How do you think it went?”

  He shook his head. “I’m just thankful tha
t my mother listened to me and didn’t have the whole family over tonight. But maybe it would have been less uncomfortable if they’d all been there. Tomorrow you’ll meet my sister, Mary, and her fiancé, Chase.”

  “There’s your uncle Jordan and aunt Stacy.”

  “And a bunch of my mother’s cousins and their families,” he said with a sigh.

  She couldn’t imagine having all that family. Her father had left when she was three. Her mother had married several times, but the marriages didn’t last. Her mother had died in a car accident right after she’d graduated from high school, but they’d never been close. The only real family she’d ever felt she had was an uncle who’d become her mentor after college, but he was gone now too.

  “You could just tell them the truth,” she said quietly after a moment. She envied Hank his family, and felt lying to them was a mistake.

  He shook his head. “This is difficult enough.” He turned to go back inside. “You can have the first bedroom. I’ll take the other one.” With that, he went inside and closed the door.

  Frankie stood on the deck, the summer night a fragrant blend of pine and water. There was just enough starlight that she caught glimpses of it shining off the surface of the river snaking through the canyon. Steep, rocky cliffs reflected the lights of the town, while the mountains rose up into the midnight-blue star-filled canopy.

  She felt in awe of this ranch and his family. How could Hank have ever left it behind? But the answer seemed to be on the breeze as if everything about this place was inhabited by one woman. Naomi. She was what had brought Hank home. She was also why Frankie was here.

  Chapter Three

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

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