Keeping Christmas Page 8

  She turned to look at him, almost as angry with him as she was disappointed in him. “I wondered why you stayed here. I guess you weren’t just hiding out from my father and Rebecca.”

  “I’m not the one who has the whole state of Texas after her.”

  She ignored that and saw him check his rearview mirror. “Did my father tell you about his heart attack?”

  “Is this just chitchat or are you leading up to something?” he asked, cutting his eyes to her. “Like maybe the truth about what’s really going on.”

  The truth? She had to smile. Even if he hadn’t been hired by her father, there was another reason she was reluctant to tell him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to believe her.

  “I just thought you’d want to know the score. The doctor said the heart attack was minor but that he had to slow down,” she continued. “Unfortunately he’s too controlling to turn over the reins, not even to Mason. Forget Uncle Carl, he wants nothing to do with running an empire, and Ace would steal every dime. I think Daddy isn’t so naive he doesn’t know that. Nor would he ever give Oliver control. Oliver is Rebecca’s husband.” She glanced over at him. “Daddy can’t stand him. Uncle Carl says if Daddy keeps giving Oliver enough rope, he’ll hang himself and Rebecca will be the best-dressed widow at the funeral.”

  “I see you’re still getting along well with your family,” he said.

  “You have no idea.”

  Chance could feel her gaze on him but he kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut. She was just trying to get a rise out of him. And damned if it wasn’t working.

  “I guess Daddy didn’t tell you that he’s also getting into politics?” she said.

  He noticed the contemptuous way she said “Daddy.” He wondered if she was making fun of her father and her relationship with him. Or if this was about Rebecca since, as he recalled now, she’d always called Beau “Daddy.”

  Either way, it made him all the more convinced that this drama was just some power struggle between Dixie and her daddy. And it made him mad as hell that he’d gotten involved. Especially for money.

  “Beauregard and I didn’t do a lot of talking,” Chance said after a few moments, curious, though, where she was headed with all this. She’d seemed vulnerable a few moments ago and he’d made the mistake of being nice to her. She didn’t react well to sympathy.

  “I’m not surprised he’s going into politics, though,” Chance admitted. Money and politics seemed to go together and Beauregard Bonner had his fingers in anything that would benefit him. Given his money and his need for power, it had been just a matter of time before he got into politics. “But if your father is so powerful in Texas, then why didn’t you let him help you out of whatever mess you’re in?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Dixie said, looking away. “After all, you still don’t believe that someone is trying to kill me.”

  “Now why wouldn’t I believe you? Let’s see. One, you haven’t given me one reason why anyone would want you dead. Two, you don’t seem to have been kidnapped, but someone is trying to get a million and a half out of your rich old man—and they just happened to have your locket. Three, your father doesn’t want to go to the feds or the police any more than you do. Four, he’s hired not one, but a bunch of guys just to haul you back to Texas as if he has some reason to believe it might be difficult and a necessity. Five, you seem pretty damn relaxed for someone who supposedly has killers after her.”

  “You have no idea how scared I am,” she snapped. “Would it make you feel better if I were hysterical, crying and wringing my hands and begging you to tell me what to do?”

  For a few moments there was only the crunch of the tires on the cold snow, the dog’s soft snores and the steady throb of the pickup’s engine.

  Chance kept his mouth shut, knowing that anything he said would be wrong.

  “Look,” Dixie finally said. “I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a few years now. Because of who my father is, I’ve always had to be careful. Most of the men I meet just want my father’s money. Even some women try to befriend me for the same reason. From the time I could walk I was told I had to watch out for kidnappers.” She cocked her head at him. “Is it any wonder I kidnapped myself to get what I wanted a few times when I was younger?”

  He said nothing, unable to imagine her life. He’d come from middle-class parents, an adequate house but no pool. As a kid, he’d gotten a paper route to make extra money, then lawn-mowing jobs later. After high school, to help save for college, he’d gone to work in one of Beauregard Bonner’s oil fields for the summer. That was until he’d inadvertently caught the attention of Bonner himself, who’d hired him as security for his daughters even though Chance was only a few years older than Rebecca.

  Bonner had liked him, noticed how hard he worked in the field, and come up with the job. Maybe Bonner had hoped all along that Chance would marry his oldest daughter. Or maybe that was the last thing he’d ever wanted.

  “I told you why I was waiting for you at the museum.”

  “Right. You were just making my life easier along with making it easier for the guys in the black car.”

  “You really have become incredibly cynical and not very trusting.”

  He laughed. “You’re a Bonner. And I haven’t forgotten what you were like as a kid.”

  “Those were just childish pranks,” she said with a wave of her hand.

  “Like kidnapping yourself.”

  She looked away. “I’ll admit I’ve made a few mistakes in the past. But whether you believe it or not, I’ve changed.”

  He nodded, not believing it. “Your father doesn’t believe you’ve changed.”

  She glared over at him. “Since when have you started trusting my father? I thought you were smart enough that you would remember my father always has ulterior motives for everything he does.”

  “He says he’s trying to protect you.”

  She laughed. “And you believe that?”

  He thought about Jamison, the duct tape in the back of the van.

  “I can’t go back to Texas or they’ll kill me.”

  “You already said that. But what I’d like to know is why you didn’t just come straight to my office instead of zigzagging your way across Montana.”

  She gave him a how-ignorant-are-you look. “That would have been pretty stupid, don’t you think? Obviously someone knew where I was headed. My father, for instance. And how do you suppose someone knew to break into your office and steal the answering machine tape with my messages?”

  He wished he knew.

  “What is wrong with you?” she demanded angrily. “Don’t you see? My father had to get to you first. He had to make you distrust me. I’m sure he offered you some outrageous amount of money. He knew I’d come to you. He had to make sure you wouldn’t believe me when I told you why they want me dead. And he had to make sure you didn’t get my messages.”

  “Are you trying to tell me your father is in on this? He’s the one who gave me the record of your credit card charges. Why would he do that if he didn’t want me to find you?”

  “He wanted to make sure you didn’t believe anything I told you,” she said with a quirk of her brow. “Worked, didn’t it?”

  Chance wanted to argue the point but knew she was right at least about his preconceived notions about her— and where he’d gotten most of them.

  He watched her rub one of Beauregard’s big ears. The dog moaned softly and snuggled against her.

  Don’t get used to that, Beauregard. Dixie Bonner is on her way back to Texas just as soon as I can get her butt on a plane.

  Chapter Seven

  Dixie looked up as Chance slowed the pickup. A building appeared from out of the snowy pines draped in red and green lights. Hot Springs Lodge. The log structure was set against a backdrop of rocky cliffs and snowcapped trees. It was as picturesque as anything she’d ever seen, even with the Santa Claus and sleigh with the silhouettes of reinde
ers out front.

  “Is that where we’re going?” After Chance moved to Montana, she’d read everything she could get her hands on about the state. This is exactly how she’d pictured a Montana mountain lodge.

  She tensed as she heard a buzzing sound off to her right and looked in her side mirror to see a snowmobile racing along beside the pickup just a few yards off the road. Behind it was a half dozen more snowmobiles.

  Chance parked in front of what appeared to be a full-fledged Montana resort complete with log hotel, storefront café, gift shop and hot springs.

  “You approve?” he asked, sounding amused.

  “I love it. They have food and a pool.”

  He chuckled. “I forgot how much you liked to eat— and swim—as a kid. I guess some things don’t change.”

  She met his gaze. He was smiling at her, the look in his eyes so familiar. Who knew what Chance had promised her father when Beauregard had hired him? But at that moment, Dixie weakened. She would have bet everything that she hadn’t been wrong about Chance Walker, that he was still her hero, that ultimately he would save her.

  She told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that he looked so darned good. Or that she’d missed him. She’d once thought that Chance would always be around. She’d been more devastated than Rebecca when Chance hadn’t come back to Texas.

  But was she willing to stake her life on him?

  The driver of the lead snowmobile stopped in front of the lodge.

  “I’ll be right back,” Chance said, apparently recognizing the man. “I’ll get us a couple of rooms, some food and then we’re going to have a talk.”

  Her stomach somersaulted. “Great. But what’s the point if you aren’t going to believe me?”

  “You’re going to convince me,” he said with a grin, and opened his pickup door.

  She watched him go over to the large man still straddling the snowmobile, the motor rumbling, the exhaust puffing out gray clouds into the cold late afternoon.

  The other riders took off in a beehive of noise and activity. Dixie couldn’t hear what was being said, but she saw Chance tell the man on the snowmobile something that made him glance in her direction. Then the man started up the snowmobile again and followed after the others.

  Chance opened her side door. “We’re all set.”

  She wondered what that meant. Dixie realized that neither of them had any luggage. She’d left what little she’d purchased in her car. She hadn’t even thought to retrieve it, but then, she hadn’t been thinking clearly for days now. And it wasn’t as though Chance had given her much of an opportunity.

  Her stomach growled.

  Chance grinned, clearly hearing it.

  She climbed out of the truck, the dog jumping out after her. Beauregard trotted along beside them as they entered the lodge, and Chance went behind the front desk to get a key.

  Only one key?

  Every daydream she’d ever had about Chance suddenly blossomed. She felt her face heat as her heart did a little Texas two-step. Around them Christmas music played softly. A white Christmas in Montana. It was more than she could have dreamed possible.

  “There a problem?” he asked, cutting his eyes to her and grinning.

  She really had to quit being so transparent.

  “It’s the family lodge unit,” he explained. “Two bedrooms. One key. After all, someone is trying to kill you. I can’t let that happen.”

  She made a face at him and looked around the lodge as she and the dog followed him up the stairs. The walls were log with a rich patina that had built up over the years. There was a huge stone fireplace, comfortable chairs and couches spread around it and a massive stuffed moose head on the wall. The moose was wearing a red and white Santa hat.

  She couldn’t believe she was in Montana, in a place like this and with Chance Walker. Too bad that’s where the fantasy part ended.

  “This way,” Chance said.

  She nodded and followed him down a rustic hallway, still looking around, taking it all in. Hadn’t she imagined Chance Walker in just such a place? Only she’d always thought of him as the cowboy in the white hat who lived by the Code of the West. Which meant he would be on her side. Not her father’s.

  She’d truly believed he was the one person Beauregard Bonner couldn’t manipulate. She realized now how naive that had been. Her father was the master manipulator. And what he couldn’t manipulate he could afford to buy.

  But then, she was pretty good at getting what she wanted, she reminded herself. After all, she’d learned from the best.

  What would it take, though, to get Chance to believe her? she wondered as he unlocked their room and pushed open the door. The dog trotted in and Dixie followed.

  The family lodge unit was spacious, much like a two-bedroom apartment. The walls were knotty pine and everything was decorated with prints of cute bears and even cuter moose.

  She walked through the place, noting the only other exit was the second-floor deck. Something told her he’d picked this room because there would be little way for her to escape without him knowing it.

  “I think I’ll take a hot shower,” she said, and smiled at him.

  He glanced into the bathroom and smiled at her. There was no window. No way out. “I’ll order us something to eat.”

  Once in the bathroom, she turned on the shower and let it run as she thought about her options. Try to get Chance to believe her? Or plan how she’d get away when he didn’t?

  THE MOMENT Beau left his office, Oliver called Rebecca’s cell phone number. He had to know what she’d told her father without letting her know he’d seen her last night and that he knew she’d been eavesdropping on his phone conversations.

  Her cell rang four times and just when he was starting to worry, she picked up.

  “Dixie?” she asked, sounding out of breath. She hadn’t had time to check the caller ID apparently.

  “No, it’s me.” Why was she out of breath?

  “Oh. Oliver.” She sounded so disappointed he was instantly angry.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked, masking his anger. “You sound out of breath.”

  “Fine.”

  “You were hoping it was Dixie,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  He gritted his teeth. Last night, after she’d overheard him on the phone, he’d gone up to their bedroom. He’d heard her breathing, had said her name. She hadn’t answered and he couldn’t see her in the dark. She kept their bedroom so damned dark he’d become adept at getting around it without stumbling over anything. And she often used earplugs even though the room was soundproofed. She didn’t even want to hear him breathing at night.

  He’d known she wasn’t asleep—just pretending as usual. And that had been fine with him.

  “I spoke with your dad,” he said now and waited.

  No response.

  “I know Dixie’s in Montana and that you’re worried about her,” he said.

  “Is that what he told you?”

  Had it always been this hard to talk to her?

  “He told me he hired Chance Walker to find her.”

  Silence. She wasn’t taking the bait.

  “What are you doing for dinner?” He hated that he was forced to resort to a romantic dinner and probably making love to her.

  “I have plans.”

  It had been months since they’d dined together. The nanny always fed the children early unless Beau was coming over. He had the feeling that they both avoided sitting across a table from each other and that’s why they often had separate plans.

  “It was just a thought,” he said, relieved. At least he’d made the effort. He’d make sure Beau knew that he’d tried and it had been Rebecca who had plans.

  “I might work late then,” he said. “I have a ton of work to do.”

  Still nothing on her end. More than likely she knew it was a lie. Another reason he resented her.

  Just like now. She was forcing him to fill the silence. “Have a ni
ce evening then.” He hung up, cutting off anything she might have said. Not wanting to know that all she’d done was hang up, as well.

  He went to the bar and washed down antacids with alcohol, liking the way the alcohol burned all the way down. Damn the bitch. She was killing him.

  WHILE DIXIE WAS IN the shower, Chance made the call to Bonner. “Dixie is with me,” he said when the older man answered.

  He heard relief and when Bonner spoke, he sounded choked up, making Chance feel guilty for questioning the oilman’s motives. Maybe he really had just been worried about his daughter and believed he could keep her safe back in Texas.

  That would explain why he was so insistent about getting her back there. Not to mention it was Christmas. Of course, he’d want her near him for the holidays. It wasn’t as though Bonner had a reason he didn’t want her in Montana.

  “With the holiday, there won’t be any flights out of here,” Chance told him.

  “I’ll send my jet. Let me see when I can arrange it.” Bonner put him on hold to check with his pilot.

  The sooner the better, Chance thought, glancing toward the other room. He could hear the shower running, the bathroom door closed, and felt a strange stub of guilt. He’d purposely waited to call Bonner until Dixie was out of earshot.

  Not that he hadn’t been up-front about his plans. She knew he was working for her father. He was just doing what he’d been paid to do.

  So why did he feel like hell?

  “The soonest, apparently, is the day after tomorrow about this time,” Bonner said, coming back on the line. “You found her a lot quicker than I expected.”

  Chance swore under his breath. He’d hoped to be done with this assignment tomorrow. Forty-eight hours? Still, he should be finished with it and at his cabin by Christmas Eve.

  “Okay, I’ll bring her to the airport, but if she doesn’t want to go with you, I won’t help you force her,” Chance said.

  “Is Dixie there?”

  “Yes. If you want to talk to her…”

  Chance started to tell Bonner that she was in the shower in the adjacent room, but before he could, the old man said, “No. I’m just glad she’s all right.”