Wild Horses. B.J. Daniels
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much stronger than her mother had been. She was the one everyone depended on, himself included.
His gaze moved to Kat, the daughter who’d taken after him the most. Strong willed, Kat had gotten his dark hair and his gray eyes. She looked rugged and unapproachable even as pretty as she was.
She’d been eight when Sarah had died. Kat, who’d become a photographer, was always in trouble growing up. He’d watched her pull away from the family first by becoming a vegetarian and demanding he quit raising cattle, and later by spending less time at the ranch and more time rebelling in every possible way. He worried about her and often wondered what it would take to make her happy.
He let his gaze take in the fraternal twins, Harper and Cassidy, and smiled. They were blonde, blue-eyed and adorable. He still thought of them as his babies since they’d only been a few months old when they’d lost their mother. They were both still in college and only home for their sister’s engagement party.
As he found Bo in the crowd below, he realized she was the daughter who worried him even more than Kat. Kat was defiant and obstinate. Bo was the secretive one. She had been five when Sarah died. Even back then, Bo was the quiet one who seemed to move through the house like a ghost. Green-eyed with sandy-blond hair and freckles, she was also the smart one.
To his surprise, it had been Bo who’d wanted to take over the charity he’d started in their mother’s name. The Sarah Hamilton Foundation had been a sentimental gesture he’d regretted the moment he’d found out the truth about Sarah’s accident the night she died.
With concern, he now watched Bo down a glass of champagne as if it were water. He could tell it was far from her first. Something was going on with her. This wasn’t the first time he’d noticed. He didn’t know what it was and he’d been afraid to ask. Maybe he’d ask Ainsley, but not tonight.
He looked through the crowd for Olivia, his blue-eyed brunette, but didn’t see her. Sarah had been a lot like Olivia—headstrong, spoiled rotten and too beautiful for her own good. Cooper, he feared, was too much like he’d been, stubborn and uncompromising. He and Sarah had been so young, and Olivia was only twenty-five...
At the thought of history repeating itself—
He washed away that terrifying thought with a gulp of Scotch. Behind him, he heard the balcony door open.
“I thought you might be here,” his wife of fifteen years said. Angelina Broadwater Hamilton glanced at the glass in his hand. “People are asking about you downstairs.”
Influential people in their political circle, people who had made him one of the youngest senators ever elected from Montana. People who could make him president, something he knew Angelina yearned for even more than he did.
Now, it appeared that there was a very good chance the presidency was his for the taking. He had an excellent voting record and, while a conservative, he was moderate enough to gain respect from both parties. He’d made a lot of friends on both sides of the fence. All the work that Angelina had done had paid off.
While he had always been ambitious, Buckmaster believed in his heart that he could help the country. He would be a good president. He would make Montana proud.
Below him, he saw his brother-in-law, Lane Broadwater, working the crowd at the party. In his midthirties, Lane was blond like his sister with the same blue eyes. Although he was eleven years younger, the two looked more like fraternal twins. Angelina had talked him into hiring her brother to handle the campaign when he’d run for senator. He’d been skeptical at first about Lane’s abilities, but he’d proven himself to be good at the job. Also he was enough like his sister that he went after whatever it was he wanted. Lane and Angelina wanted to put him in the White House. They’d proven to be very good at what they did.
He drained his glass and smiled as he turned to her. “Then we should get downstairs at once.”
Angelina eyed him, clearly unsure if he was being sarcastic. She’d never been able to tell, but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t married her for her astuteness. While she was a beautiful blonde, tall, willowy, with a face that could have been carved from porcelain, he’d married her for her name. The Broadwater connection had definitely helped put him in the Senate and made him even richer. It would put him in the White House.
He could laugh about it now, but fifteen years ago some people were under the misconception that he’d married her so she could help raise his six daughters. Angelina wasn’t mother material.
Fifteen years ago, he also hadn’t particularly needed a wife—not in the practical sense—when he’d met Angelina. Which was good because there was also nothing domestic about her. He’d hired a staff to run the house and take care of his children since he spent a great deal of his time in Washington.
Angelina, though, was queen of her realm when it came to throwing parties. She attracted the right people, the kind who had made Buckmaster Hamilton one of the most powerful men in Montana.
Now, Angelina took the empty glass from his hand, smiling as she laid it aside for the staff to take care of later. Then looping her arm through his, she said, “You look very handsome tonight, Mr. Hamilton. Ready for our grand entrance?”
“Why not?” He smiled, though most women would have seen through it. Angelina never looked past the surface. Because of that, she didn’t know about the dark shadows he sensed at the edge of their lives. She couldn’t imagine any problems that Buckmaster Hamilton couldn’t fix. But then again, she didn’t really know him.
* * *
COOPER BARNETT WALKED along the side of the house to the ballroom floor that had been built for the occasion. Everyone who was anyone was here, which meant he didn’t know most of the guests.
But he had to admit, it was some party from the tiny sparkling lights to the bubbly champagne and the imported caviar Buckmaster had flown in just that morning. No expense had been spared. It was the Hamilton way. Whatever it cost, money was never an issue.
He caught his reflection in a mirror as he passed through the house, and he straightened his tie. Wouldn’t his family be surprised to see him now? He looked nothing like the old Cooper Barnett; he still felt a lot like the old one—except in nicer clothes. It was that old one who worried him.
You don’t belong here. Worse, he feared that a lot of people at this party knew it. He shoved the thought away as he exited the house and walked among the crowd outside, anxious to find his fiancée. Stars twinkled overhead. A light breeze swayed the nearby pines and music filled the air. The Hamiltons couldn’t have ordered a more beautiful night. Even the weather did what Buckmaster wanted, he thought with a wry smile.
Then he saw his bride-to-be and forgot all about his future father-in-law and the old Cooper Barnett. His heart did a little stutter-kick in his chest. Damn but Livie Hamilton was breathtaking tonight. She wore a burgundy-red dress that accentuated her rich olive skin and contrasted perfectly with her long dark hair. He still couldn’t believe she’d fallen in love with him. How had he gotten so lucky?
Not that she wasn’t a spitfire who fought him at every turn. Also he’d done his best not to fall in love with her. He’d been warned about the Hamilton girls and he’d wanted nothing to do with her.
When he fell, though, he’d fallen hard. He wouldn’t admit it to her even at gunpoint, but her independent, mule-headed stubbornness and determination were part of her charm. But she was a Hamilton and that came with its problems.
He was headed for her when she saw him. Her face lit, making his heart take off at a dead run. The band broke into Livie’s favorite song, just as he had requested. It was sappy, but when he saw her smile of recognition, it was all worth it.
“You look...amazing,” he said, taking her in with his gaze, then his arms.
She smiled up at him, her blue eyes wide and luminous. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You clean up nice, cowboy.”
He pulled her out onto the dance floor, drawing her in closer. As he nuzzled her neck,