Before Memories Fade Page 2

  “Any chance of getting a haircut?” he asked as he released the hat with one hand to rake his fingers through a head full of thick dark hair. He had beautiful sea green eyes with long thick lashes in a classically handsome face. “Vi down at the general store said I should check with you. But I didn’t see a sign in the window. Are you open yet?”

  Good old Vi. “I was planning to open later today, but now that you’re here, come on in. You can be my first client, Deputy. Please have a seat.” She took his hat and jacket and put them on hooks along the wall by the door and considered the man. He was a good six-four or -five, towering over her five-foot-five frame. His broad shoulders challenged the fabric of his short-sleeved brown shirt with the county marshal’s department patch—identical to the ones on his canvas jacket. His well-fitting jeans cupped a nice behind and slim hips all the way down those long legs to his Western boots.

  “I’m Luna Declan,” she said as she put a drape around him and caught a whiff of maleness mixed with a light aftershave. It had an intoxicating appeal that she couldn’t deny even as she reminded herself what was at stake.

  “Jaxson Gray,” he said, clearly uneasy as he shifted in the chair. “I usually get my hair cut by the barber over in Lewistown. But he fell and broke his leg. Been closed while he recuperates.”

  She couldn’t help but smile as she turned the chair around and dropped the back to the edge of the sink. He leaned back as she adjusted the water and took in the weapon strapped at his hip. A Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum six-inch barrel, blued finish. She’d been told that Buckhorn was pretty much lawless because the closest officer was a good hour away from either direction. So seeing him had come as a surprise.

  “Do you have family around here?” Jaxson asked as she began to wash his hair.

  Luna shook her head. “Denver. My father’s an insurance agent, my mother was a beautician. She had her own shop. Just your average American family. How about you?”

  “My father’s a college history professor, my mother’s an elementary school teacher. My sister is also an elementary school teacher, and my brother is a school administrator.” He grinned and seemed to relax. “I’m the black sheep of the family.”

  As she massaged his scalp, she asked, “I’m glad you stopped in, Deputy. Do you get to Buckhorn often?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  EARL RAY CAULFIELD had been known to avoid Vi when he saw her coming. But this time she’d ambushed him.

  “Earl Ray?”

  He’d stopped by the café to see his wife and have one of Bessie’s amazing blueberry muffins that she’d baked just that morning. Both older, he and Bessie had only recently gotten married after years of being best friends. He hadn’t even had a bite of his muffin when Vi appeared without warning next to him at the café counter.

  “I need to talk to you about Gertrude Durham,” she whispered as she slid onto the stool beside him. They were the only two at the counter. The only other customers were in a couple of booths some distance away.

  “Coffee, Vi?” Bessie asked from the other side of the counter. She was carrying a full pot and topped off Earl Ray’s. Her hair was long and gray, plaited in a braid that fell over one shoulder. Seeing her always made his heart bump in his chest. He’d loved this woman forever but had only recently made her his wife. He hated that it had taken him so long.

  Waving Bessie’s question away, Vi turned her attention on him again and whispered, “Something’s just not right about Gertrude Durham.”

  “Well, Vi,” Earl Ray said as he cut a bite of the muffin with his fork and watched his wife return to the kitchen. “People say that about you and I always say—”

  “I’m in no mood for your so-called sense of down-home humor,” she interrupted. “This is serious.”

  He sighed and put down his fork. His hair was more salt than pepper, but he tried to stay in good shape and was for his age. Turning toward her, he settled his dark blue eyes on her and asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

  “We need to find out who this woman really is,” Vi said adamantly.

  “You have reason to believe she isn’t Gertrude Durham?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  He picked up his fork, took a bite and chewed, telling himself that Vi was annoying but had a good heart. At least he wanted to believe that. Through the pass-through he could see Bessie watching with amusement. “Why don’t I do some checking on her. Would that make you rest more comfortably at night?”

  All the steam seemed to leak out of Vi. “Yes, it would.” She looked like a woman who’d completed her mission as she rose from the stool and left.

  “Are you really going to look into Gertrude Durham?” Bessie asked quietly after Vi was gone.

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” He was known as the town’s military hero. In truth, no one knew exactly what he’d done in the service. But fortunately, he had contacts who often helped him when he needed it. He felt it was his job to look after Buckhorn and its residents.

  As he took another bite of muffin, he realized that he hadn’t done a check on Gertrude because she’d inherited the garage and house as Fred Durham’s aunt. He hadn’t questioned it.

  But maybe he should have. He hoped he wasn’t losing his edge. Finishing the muffin, he washed it down with coffee and rose. While he was at it, he’d check on that other new resident in town, Luna Declan, the new salon owner.

  * * *

  “SO WHAT DO you think?” Luna asked as she offered the deputy marshal a hand mirror so he could check out the back of his hair.

  She watched him swivel in his seat. Those eyes of his really were killer. Men should not be allowed to have thick, dark eyelashes like that—let alone eyes that made a girl yearn for the sea. It was so unfair.

  He stopped turning this way and that, his expression priceless. “It looks so good. When Bob cuts it...” He stopped as if he didn’t want to say anything bad about barber Bob.

  “He probably doesn’t style it.”

  Jaxson met her gaze in the mirror. “I guess that’s the difference.”

  “But you like it?” she asked, smiling. She could see that he did.

  “I really do.” He looked at his haircut a little longer, then handed back the mirror.

  “Let me know what your girlfriend thinks,” she said, still smiling. She’d already seen that he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Not that the lack of a ring necessarily proved anything. She hadn’t been crushing on him or anything as juvenile as that. She just wanted to make a thorough assessment of this lawman so she knew what she might be dealing with.

  She’d already sized up Jaxson. He’d be the type to follow the letter of the law, which meant he could be trouble.

  “No girlfriend.” He dropped his gaze to his boots.

  “Well, let’s see what your coworkers have to say.”

  He chuckled. “There aren’t many of us. You asked how often I get to Buckhorn. We’re stretched pretty thin and now there’s some big celebration planned here in town at the end of summer.”

  She nodded. “Buckhorn’s 125th birthday. It sounds like a wild time.” Actually, it sounded anything but. Not that she would be here. She and her shop would be long gone by then if everything went as planned. Strange, but it gave her a little pang of regret. It had been fun playing house here, especially since she had an apartment upstairs that she’d enjoyed decorating even knowing it was temporary.

  “Wild time exactly. That’s what we’re worried about,” Deputy Gray said. “We’re trying to decide the best way to patrol the area, so you might be seeing more of me over this way.” He met her gaze and this time held it longer.

  “You stop by anytime, Deputy, and I’ll work you into my schedule.”

  He nodded, smiled and reached for his wallet.

  “No, this one’s on the house—for luck. My first haircut in Buckhorn.”

&nb
sp; Jaxson started to argue, but realized she wasn’t taking his money. “Well, then you’ll have to let me buy you dinner next time I’m passing through.”

  She pretended to be surprised by the offer. “I’d love that.”

  He smiled again. He had a great smile, boyish in that very manly handsome face.

  “Then it’s a date,” she said. “I look forward to it.”

  With that she showed him out and called her father back. “I just met the local law. We’re having dinner the next time he comes through town.”

  “You’re playing with fire.”

  Luna smiled to herself as she disconnected and thought about Deputy Marshal Jaxson Gray. Best to keep him close. Just not too close. She didn’t want to get burned.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EARL RAY FOUND exactly what he’d expected to find when he dug into Gertrude Durham’s background. She’d grown up in Stevensville, Montana—not far from the Idaho border, the daughter of a stay-at-home mother and logger father. She’d graduated from the University of Montana in Missoula in mechanical engineering before returning home to work for her father’s logging company. She’d never married and as far as Earl Ray could tell, she owned the logging company that provided her with a decent income. Apparently she’d never had another job until she took over the gas station and garage.

  As for what had brought her to Buckhorn, she’d inherited a business and was possibly looking for a change. Seemed pretty open and shut to him.

  Though as he closed his laptop, he wondered what it was about Gertrude that had Vi worried. Picking up his cell phone, he called Vi.

  “Can’t find anything in Gertrude’s past to be concerned about,” he told her.

  “Why is she so secretive then?” Vi demanded, clearly disappointed.

  “Maybe she doesn’t like being interrogated.”

  Vi harrumphed. “Mark my words, there’s something wrong about her. You’ll see.”

  He hoped Vi was mistaken as he disconnected and typed the words Luna Declan into his computer. Mother, former owner of a beauty shop, deceased. Father, an insurance investigator. Luna attended beauty college, graduated. Also she had a university degree in forensics and criminology.

  That raised an eyebrow, but Earl Ray figured that when it came down to choosing a career, she’d followed in her mother’s footsteps and opened her own salon here. He closed the file and his laptop. As he did, he brushed off Vi’s concerns about Gertrude. At least for the moment.

  * * *

  IKE SHEPHERD COULDN’T believe it. After all these years? He’d flagged the woman’s file so that if there were ever any inquiries about her through DNA or fingerprints or any of the aliases she’d used during her life, he’d be alerted. Someone had made just such an inquiry about a woman named Gertrude Durham.

  That wasn’t the name she’d used when he knew her. Could that be her real name? He felt a shiver move through him as he sat back in his chair. She’d surfaced after all this time? And in Buckhorn, Montana? Was it possible?

  Why else would the inquiry have come from there? Why from someone who had top clearance with the military? He typed in the name only to hit a dead end. Earl Ray Caulfield’s file was sealed. What the devil?

  What kind of trouble had the woman gotten herself into now? Ike ran a hand over his face. In three days, the statute of limitations would run out on the jewelry heist. Gertrude was still wanted for questioning by the FBI. He wasn’t the only one who would get flagged with this new information.

  Which meant that if he was going to do something, he’d have to do it quickly. He’d actually thought she must be dead since in all this time he hadn’t heard anything. So where had she been? Maybe more to the point, what was she now doing? How much had she changed with the years? Or how much hadn’t she changed? he wondered with a knowing smile.

  “You aren’t seriously thinking of going to Montana,” he said to himself as he looked around his condo. He hated to admit how bored he’d been since he’d retired from the FBI. “What are you going to do when you find her?” Bring her in? Make a citizen’s arrest? In three days, if she’d been involved in the heist, legally she would be free.

  He quit kidding himself that this had anything to do with catching her for the crime he knew damned well that she’d been involved in. If she was in Buckhorn, he had to go. He wanted to see her. Which was why he shouldn’t go. Too much time had passed—not to mention the fact that the woman was dangerous for him in so many ways.

  Yet, even as he thought it, he wondered what she would do when she saw him again. He told himself she wouldn’t be the woman he’d known. He wasn’t the man she’d known either, even though he didn’t feel his age—especially when he thought about her.

  Even as he tried to talk himself out of it, he knew he was going to Buckhorn, Montana. He was going to see her again no matter how dangerous it could be for both of them. He’d be armed, and knowing her, she would be as well.

  He smiled to himself as he remembered one night curled up in bed when she’d finally told him her real first name. “Gertrude?” He’d laughed, shaking his head, not sure he believed her for good reason.

  “Don’t make me wish I hadn’t told you,” she’d warned, those dark eyes of hers catching fire in the candlelight.

  He’d pulled her to him and kissed her, breathing his new pet name for her against that luscious mouth of hers. “Gert.”

  “Gert,” he whispered to himself now. Even whispering her name made his heart ache for what had been. For what could have been.

  He had no idea what woman he would find when he reached Buckhorn, Montana. Gert had a way of turning into whatever she wanted a person to see. At one point, he’d thought he’d known the real her. But he could have been wrong about that too.

  “She’s going to break your heart,” he told himself as he rose to go pack. It wouldn’t be the first time. But it could be the last, he thought as he packed his weapon.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IKE FLEW INTO BILLINGS, Montana, the largest city in the state. It was the only commercial airport close to Buckhorn—although it was one of the smallest he’d ever seen. He rented a car right there at the airport and after driving a two-lane highway with few to no towns in between for what seemed like hours, he saw what appeared to be buildings on the horizon.

  Mountains soared up on each side of the narrow valley thick with green pines. Now that he was almost here, according to the car’s guidance system, he felt his first doubts begin to surface. It had been too long. They were both so much older. Wouldn’t it be better just to remember the good times and not chance getting his heart broken again—or worse?

  A town began to materialize. He’d suspected Buckhorn was small, but still he was surprised at just how insubstantial it was. He slowed as he passed the Sleepy Pine Motel and the Buckhorn Bakery. He passed a series of businesses. A general store, a café, a beauty shop.

  With a start, he realized that he was suddenly past town—and that he’d missed Durham’s Garage and Gas on the far edge of Buckhorn.

  Braking, he pulled off onto a short dirt road that led to what appeared to be a rather major development coming up. He saw a sign announcing the new Buckhorn Hotel.

  As he turned around and headed back into Buckhorn, he couldn’t imagine Gert living here. Not after the life she’d had. He felt his heart fall at the thought that this whole trip had been a wild-goose chase. Wasn’t there more than a good chance that her real name wasn’t Gertrude Durham? That it was just another alias? What if this wasn’t the woman who’d stolen more than his heart all those years ago?

  Still worried that it was a mistake, he pulled in next to the gas pump closest to the building. In the shadows of the dimly lit garage, he could see someone under the hood of a pickup at the first bay inside.

  Getting out, he braced himself for disappointment. He wouldn’t find Gert here. He’d never find her. N
ever see her again—just as he’d thought he’d accepted a long time ago.

  “Give me a minute!” called a gruff voice from inside the garage.

  He climbed out and, using his credit card, began to fill his tank. He knew he was stalling. The possibility of seeing her again made him anxious, nervous, unsettled. He thought about the first time he’d seen her—the woman he was going to fall completely, hopelessly, heartbreakingly in love with.

  He’d been working undercover on a money-laundering case, which was why he’d found himself at a penthouse party in the middle of Las Vegas. He’d just taken a glass of champagne from a waiter when he saw her.

  She stood outside on the roof garden silhouetted against the lights of the strip in a red dress that molded to her amazing body, her long blond hair sweeping halfway down her back. He hadn’t realized how tall she was until he walked out onto the roof and stood next to her. He had only a few inches on her.

  When she turned to look at him, he felt the full impact of the woman. Her hair framed a perfectly sculpted face he would never forget, from the eyes and high cheekbones to that full mouth. She’d stolen his breath away, but she would end up stealing a whole lot more than that before it ended.

  He’d handed her the glass of champagne he hadn’t touched yet. She’d captured his gaze and held it as she took a sip.

  “I see you’ve met my lady,” Ralph Conrad, the penthouse owner and host, had said as he put an arm around the woman.

  “Not officially,” Ike had replied, his gaze still on her.

  “Irene, meet Ike.” Conrad had frowned. “I don’t believe I know your last name.”

  “Jones,” he’d said. “Irene...”

  “Southerland,” she’d said smiling as if she knew they were both lying.