Reunion at Cardwell Ranch (12 page)

“I know, but it can’t be helped. I can’t have that painting floating around out there.”

“Can’t you just offer to buy it?”

Sid laughed. “He’s already suspicious—if not downright convinced I’m a thief.”

“But right now he has no proof. If he catches you trying to get the painting back...”

“It’s a chance I have to take. He mentioned that he has a family thing tomorrow night.”

“And you don’t think that sounds like a trap?” Maisie cried.

Sid had to laugh again. “It absolutely does. That’s why I have to hit his house tonight.” She sighed. “But there’s another problem—Zander.”

Her friend groaned. “Let me guess—she’s broke, she needs help, she wants money.” Maisie had known her and Zander since they were kids growing up.

“She says she’s only in town to celebrate the holidays with me. She’s coming over Christmas Eve. That is why I have to take care of this before then.”

Maisie groaned. “You don’t trust her, right?”

“She’s my sister.”

“Exactly.”

“I have a plan.”

“Of course you do.” Her friend laughed, but quickly sobered. “Be careful. I don’t like this. But since I am the new kid on the block, I’m working tonight. Just let me know what time. And watch Zander.”

“I always do. This is almost over.”

“And it’s no coincidence that Zander shows up now. It’s almost as if she...knows.”

Sid had thought the same thing. She disconnected and looked across the room at the costume she’d rented along with the mask for the upcoming ball. She’d told Laramie she wouldn’t be caught dead at the ball. She hoped she was right.

Chapter Thirteen

Taylor was getting sick of waiting again outside Rock Jackson’s home. More than that, he’d run out of bourbon and found himself sobering up for the third day in a row. All of which wasn’t good news. Today, he’d been determined to wait for Rock and Jade until the cows came home, if that’s what it took.

But he decided a quick run into the packaged goods store to get another bottle wouldn’t take that long. It took a little longer than he’d expected because he’d run into a couple of men he knew and they’d bought him drinks, trying to get a free painting out of him.

Sometimes it felt as if everyone wanted a piece of him. He thought of Jade and the first time he’d laid eyes on her. He’d had to have her, no matter the cost. He was no fool. He’d known why she’d agreed to marry him in Mexico. He’d talked up his ranch, his paintings, his fame and fortune. He hadn’t had to look at her to see her disappointment when they’d gotten back to Montana. He’d felt it come rolling off her in waves.

Jade had expected a place like out of one of those fancy home magazines. His ranch house was newer but it wasn’t as posh as she would have liked. Nor was his fame and fortune up to her standards. Not to mention how quickly she’d gotten bored living in the canyon. She’d spent most of her days burning the rubber off his tires running back and forth to Bozeman.

Marrying Jade had been a mistake. He admitted that as he drove back toward Rock’s place. Every bit of his common sense told him to let her go. Good riddance. He could afford to hire a housekeeper to cook and clean for him since Jade hadn’t been good at doing either. He would be better off without her.

Except he didn’t want Rock to have her.

* * *

L
ARAMIE
HAD
DONE
his best to get Sid off his mind. He couldn’t even explain it to himself, but there was something about her.

“What is your attraction to this woman other than the obvious?” Austin had said when he’d stopped by earlier.

“You mean that she’s beautiful, intelligent, talented?”

“No, surely it hasn’t skipped your attention that we Cardwell men have a weakness for women in trouble.”

“She doesn’t seem to be in trouble,” Laramie had said.

Austin had chuckled. “You don’t believe that for a minute and neither do I. Whatever she’s up to, I’m betting it’s dangerous. You’ve already been run off the road. Next time, it might be more than a warning.”

After his brother had left, Laramie pulled out his phone. “Do you have plans for tonight?” Laramie asked when Sid answered. “I know it’s kind of late, but the Cardwell family gets together to decorate cookies and drink hot chocolate, with marshmallows of course, and sing carols.”

“Seriously? I can’t even imagine such a family.”

“It probably sounds awful to you, but I thought if you didn’t have any plans...”

“I do have plans,” Sid had said. She’d sounded surprised by the invitation. “Otherwise, I would love to.”

“Really? I’m glad to hear that. Maybe next year.”

“Next year?” She’d laughed. “You can plan ahead that far?”

“Can’t you?”

She hadn’t answered that.

“Dana also wanted me to tell you that we’re having steaks.”

“It sounds wonderful, but I can’t,” she’d said before she could weaken. “Thank you for the offer, though. Please give my regrets to Dana.”

“I will. She’ll be disappointed. Not as much as me, though,” he’d added. “Well, enjoy your holidays if I don’t see you before then. Maybe I’ll see you after?”

“Maybe.”

* * *

S
ID
FELT
A
TIGHTENING
in her throat and felt her eyes blur as she thought about his earlier call. She could envision the family in that large living room she’d only gotten a glimpse of through a window.

Steaks at Cardwell Ranch sounded wonderful. But to spend a holiday in that house with that family? There would be music and laughter. Knowing what little she did about Dana, there would be food and drinks. She could almost smell the evergreen tree, almost taste the gingerbread men fresh from the oven, almost hear the sound of Christmas carols being sung by the family.

Laughing at her foolishness, she pushed the vision away. She’d only seen family gatherings like that in movies and television soap operas. Did they really exist?

She thought of her own childhood and the goofy little tree she and Zander had dragged in one year. They’d made ornaments for it and bought presents to put under it. They hadn’t been much. Those had been the lean years before things got really bad.

Swallowing the lump that had formed, she realized she was hugging herself. What would Laramie think if he knew the truth?

She shoved that thought away. For all she knew, the invitation was just him still trying to track down his elusive cat burglar. The invitation was just to let her know he wouldn’t be home tonight. The trap was set.

Sid hated being this suspicious. Especially of a man she was developing feelings for.
Did
have feelings for, in spite of the circumstances. The thought made her laugh. She really needed to finish this and move on.

* * *

A
S
R
OCK
DROVE
into his ranch, he was glad to see that Taylor’s SUV wasn’t parked out front. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been. Taylor could be a hothead. He drove straight to the back of the studio where his car would be out of sight just in case the fool came searching for his wife. He wasn’t looking forward to a face-to-face with the artist, drunk or sober. There was too much history between them, not to mention the one big secret that had them locked in a death grip for life.

At the back of his studio, he was surprised to see where someone had beaten on his padlock trying to break in. Had it been Taylor when he’d found his wife’s car in the barn? Or his not-ex-enough wife, Carla? He hadn’t given her a key. He wasn’t stupid.

Opening the lock with his key, he was glad to see that everything was as he’d left it. But the evidence couldn’t stay here, not when he planned to bring Jade home with him. He popped open the back of the SUV. He had a storage shed rented in town that no one knew about, not even Carla, since he’d put it in his other ex-wife’s name. He was damned glad of it right now.

With any luck, he would never need any of this again, he thought, as he loaded everything into the back of the vehicle. If things worked out with Jade, he wouldn’t need to make extra money and could get rid of all the evidence soon. He still couldn’t believe his luck.

He tried to relax, to be happy. Hell, he should be celebrating right now. He had it all. Or at least he would soon. But he’d never been one to count his chickens before that last egg hatched. His life had been too tough not to know that things could turn sour at a moment’s notice. Especially when dealing with a woman like Jade...

It didn’t take that long to load everything and drive down to the storage shed. On the way back, feeling confident he was in the clear now, he had a feeling he’d forgotten something. He swore as he remembered what it was, then he drove back toward the ranch. Glancing at his watch, he told himself to hurry. Jade would be getting antsy. He called her and, sure enough, she was finished and waiting for him.

“Go next door to the bar. I’ll be there before you know it.”

* * *

L
ARAMIE
WAS
DISAPPOINTED
that Sid couldn’t be here with him as he entered the Cardwell Ranch main house. He wondered what her plans were as he made his way to the kitchen where Dana was at work.

“Sid’s busy?” Dana asked as she slid warm cookies from a pan onto a cooling rack. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” Would she take advantage of him being gone and take the painting tonight?

On the drive to the ranch he’d told himself he should cut this visit short after Christmas and return to the warmth of Houston—and the job he was getting paid to do. But watching over the Texas Boys Barbecue empire didn’t take much watching. If he was being truthful, the company now had accountants and secretaries that did most of the work. He was more of an overseer. Maybe that was why he’d been getting a little bored with it.

Bored enough that he’d been looking forward to catching an art thief. The only thing worse would be falling for the thief.

His father, Angus, came into the kitchen and slapped Laramie on the shoulder, wishing him a merry Christmas. He hadn’t seen his father yet on this trip to Montana. Dana was so excited that the whole family could be together, even Austin, who had been terrible about missing family get-togethers.

“The steaks are about ready,” Angus said to Dana. “Hud wanted me to let you know.” He took the huge platter Dana handed him and headed back outside.

“Everything else is ready,” she called to Angus’s retreating back, then turned to Laramie. “I’m sorry. But Sid probably has plans for the holidays, don’t you think?”

He had no idea. In the time he’d spent with her, he had learned little about her. His gut told him, though, that she was in trouble, and that alone made him want to save her. It was a Cardwell trait that ran in his family, one he’d never felt so strongly before. Cardwell men were into helping women out of tight spots, he thought, as his brothers, father and uncle came in from the outside grill, followed by a flock of small laughing children.

Laramie had just never experienced what he was feeling for Sid. But now he understood its power. He realized he would do whatever it took to save Sid—even if it meant saving her from herself.

The smell of beef steaks filled the dining room as everyone began to take their seats, the kids all at a smaller table nearby. Laramie tried to enjoy himself, but he couldn’t get his mind off Sid. What was she doing right now? He hated to think.

Earlier that day he’d found an article on a famous art forger who was so good that a lot of art experts would no longer authenticate paintings for fear of being wrong. Was there a cowboy artist that good here? Taylor had said the only person good enough was the deceased H. F. Powell.

Laramie barely heard the chatter around the table, the clink of glasses or the rattle of silverware. As the meal wound down, he looked out the window. It was already dark in the canyon even though it was still relatively early. Cardwell Ranch sat at the foot of the mountains alongside the Gallatin River. Earlier he’d driven over a wooden bridge to get here, the entire landscape shrouded in ice-cold white.

“Why do you keep looking at your watch?” Austin demanded from next to him at the huge dinner table in cousin Dana’s dining room. A burst of giggles came from the children’s table. Dana got up to see what was going on.

Laramie shook his head. He just had a feeling he couldn’t shake. It wouldn’t be enough to catch Sid on camera. He needed to catch her red-handed. He needed to see it for himself.

“You need to let it go,” Austin said as they all rose to take their dishes into the kitchen. “You need to let
her
go.”

Laramie looked at his brother. “What if I can’t?”

His brother groaned and shook his head. Austin actually looked sorry for him.

“Tell Dana I had to go,” Laramie said, realizing he had only one choice as he handed his brother his dirty plate. “She’ll understand.”

* * *

W
HEN
HE
GOT
BACK
to Rock Jackson’s ranch, Taylor was disappointed to see that they still hadn’t returned even though it was getting dark. He settled in again with a new bottle. He’d gotten a quart since he was determined to stay until Rock returned and he’d realized that could take all night.

He kept the gun handy as he parked under some pines at the edge of the property where he could see any vehicle that pulled in, but where Rock wouldn’t notice him.

Too much bourbon mixed with lack of sleep and food, and he found he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Laying the seat back, he decided to take a nap, telling himself he’d hear Rock when he drove in.

The dream started out nice enough. A sunny, bright day in summer. He had been for a ride that morning after doing his chores. His father had gone to Fargo, North Dakota, to pick up a bull he’d bought. He’d wanted Taylor’s older brother to go along, but Buzz didn’t want to go.

“Then you’re coming with me,” his father had said.

Taylor couldn’t think of anything worse than being trapped in a truck with the old man for two days. Not to mention, he’d been the old man’s second choice. He knew his father would browbeat him the whole way. He’d always been a disappointment to his father.

On impulse, he had pretended to be sick to his stomach. His father had changed his mind about taking him and left alone. It was perfect. Buzz had some girl he planned to spend all his time with in town. Nothing could keep Taylor from doing what he loved.

He’d retrieved his paints and canvas from under the bed where he’d kept them hidden and went downstairs to the well-lit kitchen. A wave of nostalgia hit him now at the thought of the many hours he used to sit here with his mother when she was alive. She said she loved to watch him paint. She always protected him when his father caught him painting.

“You’re making a sissy out of that boy,” he would bellow. “I need a ranch hand, not some worthless, namby-pamby kid who likes to paint pretty pictures.”

That day, with the sun coming in the kitchen window along with a warm breeze, he’d gotten lost in his art. He was so absorbed in what he was doing, he didn’t hear his father return. He didn’t hear his footfalls until the man was behind him and then it was too late.

All he felt was the first blow—the one that broke his arm. He never painted after that. Not until he’d escaped the ranch and his old man.

Taylor stirred, the dream making him moan with pain in his sleep. He blinked. Had he heard a vehicle?