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  Everyone wanted to know the real story.

  Everyone but Max Monroe. Right now he couldn’t care less about why Sarah was back, where she’d been or if she’d end up getting her man back. He was too pleased with himself. If he was right and this woman was indeed Sarah Hamilton, what he had in his camera was money in the bank.

  CHAPTER TWO

  KAT HAMILTON DUCKED into a small café on the main street of Bozeman, Montana. She waited by the door as she watched for the tall, dark man she’d seen following her. Her heart was pounding even though she tried to assure herself it was probably just a reporter. The press had been dogging her and her sisters ever since her mother had turned up and her father had announced he was running for president.

  “Would you like a seat or are you waiting for someone?”

  Kat jumped at the sound of the waitress’s voice behind her. She turned to see an older woman with a menu and an impatient expression. She shook her head and looked back to the street. The man who’d been following her hadn’t walked by. Had she just imagined that he’d been tailing her?

  “No, thank you, I’ve changed my mind,” Kat said and pulled open the door. Stepping outside, she scanned the street. Maybe she was just being paranoid. But all her instincts told her that wasn’t the case.

  When she’d spoken with her older sister, Ainsley had also complained that there’d been a man following her. Ainsley had taken a job scouting movie set locations in Montana for film companies. Apparently, Ainsley’s shadow had been tracking her from town to town.

  The thought gave Kat the creeps. She did everything possible to blend into her surroundings. The last thing she’d ever wanted was this. Her father’s political career had never been this much of a problem—until it became clear he was looking at the presidency. The fact that he had six daughters he’d raised alone for years before marrying Angelina Broadwater had made the press interested in them.

  Kat searched the street. She had decided that if she caught him following her again today, she was going to confront him. The thought terrified her. The last time she’d confronted a man... She pushed the thought away as she had in the years since, telling herself she was stronger now.

  Just when she was starting to doubt her own sanity, she spotted him.

  There, across Main. He’d been standing in front of the bank, looking in this direction, but when she’d seen him, he’d quickly stepped behind a group of women coming out of the quilt store and had now disappeared around the corner.

  She hadn’t imagined it. The man was following her. So why didn’t he try to corner her like all the other reporters who’d gotten in to her face demanding answers? As if she had any answers. She didn’t know any more about her mother than the general public since she’d been eight when her mother had allegedly died. She’d been a difficult child—at least that’s what she’d been told. So her memories of Sarah, as she now thought of her, were clouded.

  Kat considered confronting him. There was too much traffic this time of day to get across Main since it was the main highway through town. She waited until there was a break in the traffic and ran across the street, telling herself she would be safe in public, but he was gone. Had she really been ready to confront him? She could feel herself trembling at the thought. For years, she’d told herself she’d put the past behind her, but at moments like this, she knew it was a lie.

  More than likely, the man had been following her, hoping she’d get together with her mother. She and three of her sisters had met with their mother when she’d first returned. Since then, she’d talked with Sarah a couple of times on the phone, but that was it.

  No one wanted to lead the press to Buckmaster Hamilton’s first wife. Russell Murdock hadn’t just saved their mother that day he’d found her months ago. He’d given her a place to stay, since Sarah Hamilton couldn’t return to the ranch and the husband who’d remarried fifteen years ago.

  It was a mess, not that Kat hadn’t seen her friends go through their parents’ divorces and affairs and financial problems. But none of them had believed their mother dead for twenty-two years to have her suddenly return.

  “Why are you so angry with Mother?” Livie had wanted to know the few times she and her sister had discussed Sarah. “It isn’t her fault that she can’t remember what happened.”

  For Kat, it was complicated. She wanted to trust the woman who’d come back to them, but for some reason, she couldn’t. Maybe her mother had a good reason for leaving them. Or maybe she didn’t. That was the problem. No one knew—including her mother.

  “We don’t know what would make her do what she did,” her sister Bo had said in their mother’s defense. “Maybe it was a bad case of postpartum depression. We really shouldn’t judge her until we know all the facts.”

  “And when exactly are we going to get all these...facts? Mother says she doesn’t remember anything. Not one day of the past twenty-two years. Not to mention driving into the river, surviving that and calling someone to pick her up.” Kat had shaken her head. “It isn’t that I’m not compassionate and even understanding. But I’m sorry, I don’t...trust her. Maybe in time...”

  Kat had often wondered if the reason she was thought to be difficult by her mother as a child was because she resembled her father with her dark hair and gray eyes. Or maybe her anger at her mother just wouldn’t let her believe Sarah Hamilton had loved her.

  Ainsley, who was blond with blue eyes like her mother, had been ten, so she had the most memories of their mother. Their sister Bo had been five. Blonde with green eyes, Bo was always the cute one. Kat was sure her mother had adored the child. Same with Olivia, the blue-eyed brunette in the family. Livie had been three when their mother had left them.

  The twins, Harper and Cassidy, had been only months old, so they had no memory of their mother. They both resembled Sarah. As far as Kat knew, neither of them had laid eyes on their mother yet, though. With the press dogging them all, they’d stayed away at their father’s request.

  Kat pulled out her cell phone and called Ainsley. Her big sister had practically raised them all, so was it any wonder that they all went to her when they needed help?

  “Have you had any more reporters following you?” she asked without preamble.

  “Kat?”

  “Has Sarah done something that I haven’t heard about?” She groaned, realizing she’d been out of touch for a while, camping in the woods while she shot more photos for her upcoming exhibit. “The press coverage was starting to die down. What has she done now?”

  “I don’t believe Mother has done anything,” Ainsley said patiently. “At least not that I’ve heard. You sound strange. Are you all right?”

  “I’ve had a man tailing me the past few days, so I just assumed something new had happened. I’ve been off the grid.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, the man tailing me has been doing it for weeks now off and on.”

  “He hasn’t tried to talk to you?”

  “No. He just seems to show up in whatever town I’m in,” Ainsley said. She had dropped out of law school, breaking their father’s heart, to scout movie and commercial locations in the state.

  “Where are you now?” Kat asked.

  “East Glacier. They’re shooting a commercial here and hoping it snows, so we’re waiting. How about you?”

  “Bozeman.”

  “That’s right—you have your photograph exhibit coming up soon, don’t you?”

  “Not until closer to Christmas. I wasn’t happy with the photos I had so I had the date extended. Dad is determined to fly back for it. I tried to talk him out of it.”

  It would be her first exhibit. She wanted it to be good. What she didn’t want was a media circus. Maybe it was foolish, but she didn’t want that kind of exposure. She wanted her photographs to speak for themselves.

  “I’
ll be there, too. Just text me the date and time.”

  Kat wanted to tell her sister it wasn’t necessary, but she hadn’t seen Ainsley in months and she missed her. “Thanks.”

  “You could go to the police,” her sister suggested, steering their discussion back to the more concerning topic.

  “And end up in the police reports? No, thanks.” Kat looked back up the street but didn’t see the man. “He’ll eventually corner me and want the whole story on Sarah, and I’ll kick him in the—”

  “I would advise against that. I had enough law school to know that he could have you arrested for assault.” She laughed. “When I told Dad about the man following me, he suggested that he might be a nice man who just didn’t know how to ask me out.”

  “Is yours handsome? I don’t think mine is. I only got a glimpse, but it would be just like you to get the handsome reporter.”

  “Actually, he is. I don’t think he’s a reporter, though. I almost suspect he might have been hired to keep an eye on me.”

  “Dad’s doing?” Kat asked suspiciously. “You think that’s what this is?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him. He wouldn’t tell us because he knows we would demand he call them off.”

  “That does sound like Dad, now that you mention it. I wonder if I’ve had one tailing me for months as well and I just didn’t notice.” Kat thought about contacting her father to verify it.

  “Don’t bother Dad with this,” her sister said as if reading her mind. “He’s got a lot on his plate right now with the primary only months away. Also, if he didn’t hire the men, then he’s going to be upset that reporters are tailing us. If Dad had his way, he’d lock us up until all this blows over.”

  “As if that’s going to happen.” Their father was headed for the White House. They would never be free of the press. But Kat knew her sister was right. “Okay. Have you talked to Harper or Cassidy?”

  “They’re both fine. They have been running around Europe, pretending to continue their educations, but Harper called to say they were flying back to spend a few days in New York City. Neither has mentioned anyone following them. Oh, it’s finally starting to snow up here in the cold north. Gotta go.”

  Kat looked down the street again as she disconnected and wondered if her father had hired someone to tail her and...what? Keep her out of trouble? Or keep the press away from her?

  I feel as if I live in an aquarium full of bottom feeders, Kat thought as she headed down the street toward the art gallery. She hated it, wishing she was invisible. But she was one of the “Hamilton Girls,” as they had been known as far back as she could remember. With her father in politics, she’d done her best to stay out of the limelight. Now with him running for president, a mother whom the press had dubbed unstable and with Angelina Broadwater Hamilton, their stepmother, caught in what the press liked to call a hopeless love triangle, Kat feared all of this was never going to end.

  * * *

  MAX COULDN’T WAIT to get to a computer and upload the shots he’d taken. He’d looked at what he had on his camera, heart pounding with excitement. He might have the only recent photo of the senator’s first wife.

  But the really good shots were the ones of Sarah and the senator together. He’d managed to capture the chemistry between them. Lovers’ triangle indeed.

  While most of the media were making her out to be mentally unstable, Max thought she looked normal. True, he told himself as he drove back to town, looks could be deceiving. The senator hadn’t spent a whole lot of time with her at the creek. Max would have given anything to have heard what they said to each other.

  But he had the photos. He’d captured something explosive in their expressions. There was...heat between them. These two let off fireworks when they were together—and it showed up even in the distant shots he’d taken.

  He couldn’t contain his excitement. The question was who would want the photos badly enough to start the bidding.

  Big Timber Java had great coffee—and free Wi-Fi. He opened his laptop, took a sip of his coffee and uploaded his photos.

  An older woman came in, a local who seemed to know everyone in town. After she settled in, he approached her table and showed her the photo he’d taken of the man in the pickup—the one who’d brought Sarah Hamilton out to the creek to meet the senator.

  “I was taking a photo of a doe down by the creek early this morning, and this truck and driver drove by just as I took the shot,” he said chuckling. “I thought you might know him.”

  She squinted at the photo on his laptop for a moment. “That’s Russell Murdock. He has a ranch outside of Beartooth. Used to work for W. T. Grant. Russell had to be a saint to work for that man.”

  “I figure he owes me a beer since he ruined my shot,” Max joked.

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean to,” the woman said cheerfully. “Russell is a sweetheart.” She took a good look at him then, eyes narrowing. “Are you one of those journalists in town?” Immediately she didn’t seem as friendly.

  “Amateur photographer.” That much was true enough.

  She seemed to relax. “Well, I think it is a fine shot of Russell. Did you get one of the deer?”

  He shook his head. “The truck scared the deer away.”

  “Too bad. We have several fine photographers in the area.” She rattled off three or four names. “Sometimes they offer classes.” Only one name caught his attention.

  “Kat Hamilton? Any relation to—”

  “Senator Buckmaster Hamilton?” She nodded. “One of his daughters. I’ve heard she’s quite talented.”

  “I’m sorry, your coffee is getting cold because of me. May I buy you another cup?”

  She declined, said she was meeting her granddaughter and had to go anyway. “It was nice visiting with you. Maybe I’ll see some more of your photographs one of these days in a gallery.”

  “Maybe,” he said, hoping more for the front page of a nationally syndicated newspaper.

  * * *

  RUSSELL MURDOCK HADN’T been looking forward to telling his daughter that he’d asked Sarah Hamilton to marry him. He was no fool. He knew Destry would be shocked—just as everyone else in the county would be once it was announced. He’d expected the arguments Destry would make. What he hadn’t anticipated was how upset she would be.

  “You can’t be serious!” Destry West spun away from him, turning her back as she stormed into the kitchen. He followed her, seeing her shake as she poured herself a mug of coffee and cupped it in her two hands. It didn’t stop her trembling as she turned to him again. “Sarah Hamilton? Have you lost your mind?”

  He tried to find the words to explain how he’d felt from the moment she’d stumbled out of the trees and in front of his pickup. Fortunately, he’d gotten the truck stopped in time. But when he’d leaped out and seen her face... Well, it was like seeing a ghost. He’d been to her memorial service twenty-two years ago.

  “You know I’ve been looking out for her since her return,” he said as calmly as he could. He needed his daughter to understand. “I fell in love with her.”

  Destry shook her head, looking at him as if in amazement. “Sarah Hamilton? Doesn’t it bother you in the least that her return is surrounded by mystery— let alone her past?”

  “She has amnesia. She’s not crazy.”

  His daughter cocked her head at him. “Really? How can you be sure? She doesn’t know where she’s been for the past twenty-two years? Dad!” The word came out a plea.

  Sarah had tried to warn him that his daughter would be upset. “Why wouldn’t she, Russell? Like everyone else in the world, she’s heard the stories about me.”

  “Once she gets to know you—”

  “Please, Russell. Let’s give it a couple more months before we announce.”

  “Is this Buckmaster Hamilton’s d
oing?” He’d demanded, even though he could tell by her expression that it was.

  “He will take a short break soon and come home,” she’d argued. “He wants to be here for our daughters when you and I announce our engagement. That isn’t too much to ask, is it?”

  All he’d been able to do was shake his head. “If I were a suspicious man I might question if you were sincere about wanting to marry me or if this was just a ploy to win your husband back.”

  Sarah had stepped to him and kissed him. “You know better than that. I’m nothing but a liability to Buck.”

  He hadn’t been convinced. “Because if he left his wife and came back to you, it would hurt his political career. But if Angelina wasn’t in the picture—”

  She shook her head. “Maybe you’re right, and he did something so horrible that I drove my car into the Yellowstone River that winter night so many years ago. Maybe I’ll never know the truth. But, for whatever reason, I see no future for me and Buck.”

  Russell had taken her in his arms and held her, praying it was true but knowing Sarah still loved the man. If Buckmaster were free—

  Fortunately, Buckmaster wasn’t free. Not only was he married to Angelina Broadwater Hamilton, but also he was wed to the idea of being the next president of the United States. Which meant Sarah was inconvenient. A liability, just as she’d said.

  Russell was determined to give Sarah the life she deserved. “I understand why you’re upset,” he said now to his daughter. “Destry, I’ve gotten to know this woman. For her to leave her children like that...well, she had a good reason, just as there is a very good reason why she can’t remember.”

  He didn’t dare tell her about his theory that Sarah’s brain had been wiped clean of the memories because Senator Buckmaster Hamilton didn’t want her to remember. “She’s the victim here, sweetheart.”

  Destry shook her head. “Are you sure you aren’t just making excuses for her?”