Atonement. B.J. Daniels
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She studied him for a moment. “No.”
“I didn’t think so. You strike me as an independent woman with a lot of pride. Ethan obviously knew you. He knew you’d track down the ranch from the photograph.” He glanced over at her. “He knew you were smart and resourceful. He knew you’d find me.”
Tessa let that sink in as she watched the countryside blur past.
She had never seen such beautiful, remote country. They had traveled along Interstate 90 through pine-studded mountains past Paradise Valley and over the Bozeman Pass. From there they drove along clear rivers, winding through more mountains to reach Butte, home of the huge open-pit mine, before leaving behind civilization again.
She hated reliving those last few weeks with Ethan. Worse, she hated to admit even to herself how badly he’d hurt her. How badly she’d let him.
Could Dillon be right? Had Ethan cared about her and the baby? He had an odd way of showing it. But if he was in trouble... She reminded herself that Ethan had apparently faked his own death and changed his name—pretty drastic behavior even for him. Which, according to his brother, indicated that he’d been in serious trouble.
And then he’d met her.
So why hadn’t he kept running? Surely a wife and baby hadn’t been in his plans.
As much as Tessa hated doing it, she stewed over the days before Ethan left. He’d been angry about her questioning his time on the computer. He hadn’t wanted her to know that he was looking for a rifle. That made no sense.
“Had Ethan gotten angry with you before?” Dillon asked, as if he’d noticed her chewing at her lower lip and glowering out the window.
“He was just looking for an excuse to cut and run,” she said.
“My brother has always been...complicated.”
She chuckled at that as she glanced over at Dillon. She couldn’t help remembering what he’d said about her being strong and smart, what he’d figured out about her after meeting her twice. She suspected he was a good undersheriff, good at dealing with most people. But not his brother, apparently. He’d said he hadn’t seen Ethan in two years, hadn’t even known where he was.
She couldn’t help being curious. The brothers were identical twins and yet one had become a lawman and the other an outlaw. “I take it you and Ethan weren’t close?”
He shook his head. “It’s a long story.” And clearly one he didn’t want to get into.
Ahead, a town appeared on the horizon. Tessa was relieved for a change in scenery as well as subject. At the edge of town, the sign read Welcome to Wisdom And the Big Hole Valley, Land of Ten Thousand Haystacks.
“Those are the Bitterroots,” Dillon said, pointing to the snowcapped mountains.
The whole scene was breathtaking. The Big Hole River wound through the valley, with the Bitterroot Mountains as a backdrop. There was a lushness to the country, a new-spring green that was almost blinding.
They followed the Big Hole River out of town, rolling along a gravel road, a jackleg fence on each side. In a field next to them a half dozen horses took off running through the tall grass, the wind blowing back their manes. Overhead, cumulus clouds floated on a sea of blue.
Not far down the road, she noticed the Posted signs. They were orange and stamped with the Double T-Bar-Diamond Ranch name.
“Is this ranch as large as it seems?” she asked, after they’d gone for miles with the Posted signs on both sides of the road.
“Montana has some huge ones,” Dillon said, and slowed as a massive log arch appeared on the right-hand side of the road ahead. The arch was made of log and metal. An ornate design of a huge elk had been cut into the metal.
Suddenly Tessa sat up straighter. “I think Ethan told me about this place.”
Dillon glanced over at her. “The Double T-Bar-Diamond Ranch?”
“Not by name. But if I’m right, there’s a large rock fireplace in the living room of the lodge with a huge elk mount over it. Ethan said the owner of the ranch was so proud of the elk because it was the first one he’d ever killed. Apparently he liked to brag about it and his other possessions. I could tell Ethan didn’t like the man. But when I showed an interest by asking about the ranch and when he worked there, Ethan said he didn’t want to talk about it. He said it wasn’t a place he wanted to remember and then he changed the subject.”
* * *
DILLON COULD HAVE told her that Ethan probably hadn’t wanted to talk about most ranches he’d worked, because more than likely he’d left under unpleasant—if not downright criminal—circumstances. Dillon thought of the one over on the Powder River and the two hundred bucks it had cost him. He wondered what it would cost him at this ranch.
He checked his mirror. Dust boiled up behind the pickup, obscuring anyone who might be following them. “What makes you think this is the ranch?”
“Its size,” she said. “I got the impression the man was very wealthy. But also that arch we just drove under? Did you see the elk artwork in the metal part?”
He already suspected Ethan had worked here. Now he was afraid of what they would find out about his brother as they came over a rise and a sprawling house came into view. Dillon hoped it hadn’t been a mistake bringing Tessa with him.
The house was a single story made of stone and log with a green metal roof. The roof and the house seemed to run forever along the river’s edge.
Dillon parked in front, bracing himself for more bad news as they got out and approached the gigantic carved wooden door.
A woman answered a few minutes after he’d pushed the doorbell. A military march song echoed through the house as she asked, “Yes?” She was dressed in a maid’s uniform.
“We’re here to see Mr. Truman.”
She nodded and led them into a massive living room. Dillon spotted the fireplace, a towering stone masterpiece, and the elk mount dwarfing the room. It looked like something out of Boone and Crockett. He and Tessa shared a look. It appeared he’d been right about his brother following Luke Blackwell here.
At the sound of boot heels on the stone floor, they both turned. One look at the man and Dillon knew this had to be Halbrook Truman, the ranch owner. He carried himself like a man in a hurry to get whatever he wanted with no doubt in his mind that he would succeed.
The fiftysomething rancher appeared distracted, so it took a moment before he looked up and actually saw them. His gaze went from Tessa to Dillon before he stumbled to a stop. “Ethan?” He started to laugh, shaking his head as if nothing surprised him anymore. “You’re the last person I expected to see—especially wearing a damned sheriff’s department uniform. Did you make Luke one of your deputies?” The man guffawed at his own joke.
For the second time in two days, someone had thought Dillon was Ethan. He’d lived so long separately from his brother that he’d forgotten what that was like.
“I’m Undersheriff Dillon Lawson. Ethan was my brother.” He couldn’t help using was. Part of him still wouldn’t let himself believe that Ethan really was alive. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his brother all over again if not.
Halbrook let out a grunt. “Yeah, right. Call yourself whatever you please, since we both know that the rumors of your demise were greatly exaggerated. But you’d better be here to return my property.” The rancher glanced at Tessa. “All of it, including the ring I gave my fiancée. I hope to hell you didn’t knock up Ashley, too.”
So Halbrook had heard about Ethan’s death, but unlike Dillon, he hadn’t been fooled by it. “What property might that be?”
The rancher narrowed his gaze. “What the hell is this?” He laughed again but there was no humor in it. “You foolin’