Iron Will. B.J. Daniels
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put her hands on her hips. She knew her sister so well. “What?”
Stacy looked up in surprise. “Nothing to get in a tizzy over, just something strange.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t want to be talking out of turn, but I noticed that they slept in separate bedrooms last night.” Her sister snapped her lips shut as if the words had just sneaked out.
Dana frowned as she put another pan of cookie dough into the oven and, closing the door, set the timer. Hadn’t she felt something between Hank and Frankie? Something not quite right? “They must have had a disagreement. I’m sure it is difficult for both of them being here after what happened with Naomi. That’s bound to cause some tension between them.”
“Probably. So, you like her?”
“I do. She’s nothing like Naomi.”
“What does that mean?” Stacy asked.
“There’s nothing timid about her. She’s more self-assured, seems more...independent. I was only around her for a little while. It’s just an impression I got. You remember how Naomi was.”
Her sister’s right brow shot up. “You mean scared of everything?”
Dana had been so surprised the first time Hank had brought Naomi home and the young woman had no interest in learning to ride a horse.
I would be terrified to get on one, she’d said.
Naomi isn’t...outdoorsy, was the way Hank had described her. That had been putting it mildly. Dana couldn’t imagine the woman living here. As it turned out, living at Cardwell Ranch was the last thing Naomi had in mind.
“Frankie looks as if she can handle herself. I saw Hank gazing at her during dinner. He seems intrigued by her.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Stacy said now.
“Why don’t you come to dinner? Mary’s going to be here, and Chase. Jordan and Liza are coming as well. I thought that was enough for one night.” Her daughter and fiancé would keep things light. Her brother and his wife would be a good start as far as introducing Frankie to the family.
“Great. I’ll come down early and help with the preparations,” her sister said. “I’m sorry I mentioned anything about their sleeping arrangements. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
* * *
FRANKIE LOOKED OUT at the mountain ranges as she finished the lunch Hank had bought them up at the mountain resort. This was more like a vacation, something she hadn’t had in years. She would have felt guilty except for the fact that technically she was working. She looked at the cowboy across the table from her, remembering the day he’d walked into her office in Lost Creek outside of Moscow, Idaho.
“Why now?” Frankie had asked him after he’d wanted to hire her to find out what had really happened to his girlfriend. “It’s been three years, right? That makes it a cold case. I can’t imagine there is anything to find.” She’d seen that her words had upset him and had quickly lifted both hands in surrender. “I’m not saying it’s impossible to solve a case that old...” She tried not to say the words next to impossible.
She’d talked him into sitting down, calming down and telling her about the crime. Turned out that the marshal—Hank’s father—had sided with the coroner that the woman’s death had been a suicide. She’d doubted this could get worse because it was clear to her that Hank Savage had been madly in love with the victim. Talk about wearing blinders. Of course he didn’t want to believe the woman he loved had taken a nosedive off a cliff.
“I thought I could accept it, get over it,” Hank had said. “I can’t. I won’t. I have to know the truth. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I can feel Naomi pleading with me to find her murderer.”
It didn’t sound crazy as much as it sounded like wishful thinking. If this woman had killed herself, then he blamed himself.
Her phone had rung. She’d checked to see who was calling and declined the call. But Hank could tell that the call had upset her.
“Look, if you need to take that...” he’d said.
“No.” The last thing she wanted to do was take the call. What had her upset was that if she didn’t answer one of the calls from the man soon, he would be breaking down her door. “So, what is it you want me to do?”
Hank had spelled it out for her.
She’d stared at him in disbelief. “You want me to go to Big Sky with you.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask and this might not be a good time for you.”
He had no idea how good a time it was for her to leave town. “I can tell this is important for you. I can’t make you any promises, but I’ll come out and look into the incident.” She’d pulled out her standard contract and slid it across the table with a pen.
Hank hadn’t even bothered to read it. He’d withdrawn his wallet. “Here’s five hundred dollars. I’ll pay all your expenses and a five-thousand-dollar bonus if you solve this case—along with your regular fee,” he’d said, pushing the signed contract back across the table to her. As the same caller had rung her again, Hank had asked, “When can you leave?”
“Now’s good,” she’d said.
Frankie had tried to relax during dinner later that night at the main ranch house, but it was difficult. She now understood at least the problem between Hank and his father. From what she could gather, the marshal was also angry with his son. Hank had refused to accept his father’s conclusion about Naomi’s death. The same conclusion the coroner had come up with as well.
Hank thought his father had taken the easy way out. But Frankie had been around Hud Savage only a matter of hours and she knew at gut level that he wasn’t a man who took the easy way out. He believed clear to his soul that Naomi Hill had killed herself.
During dinner, Hank had said little. Dana’s sister, Stacy, had joined them, along with Dana’s daughter, Mary, and her fiancé, Chase, and Dana’s brother, Jordan, and wife, Liza. Hank had been polite enough to his family, but she could tell he was struggling after going to the spot where Naomi had died.
She’d put a hand on his thigh to try to get him to relax and he’d flinched. The reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed by his mother and aunt Stacy. Frankie had smiled and snuggled against him. If he hoped to keep their secret longer, he needed to be more attentive. After all, it was his idea that they pretend to be involved in a relationship. That way Frankie could look into Naomi’s death without Hank going head-to-head with his father.
When she’d snuggled against him, he’d felt the nudge and responded, putting an arm around her and pulling her close. She’d whispered in his ear, “Easy, sweetie.”
Nodding, he’d laughed, and she’d leaned toward him to kiss him on the lips. It had been a quick kiss meant to alleviate any doubt as to what was going on. The kiss had taken him by surprise. He’d stared into her eyes for a long moment, then smiled.
When Frankie had looked up, she’d seen there was relief on his mother’s face. His mother had bought it. The aunt, not so much. But that was all right. The longer they could keep their ruse going, the better. Otherwise it would be war between father and son. They both wanted to avoid that since it hadn’t done any good three years ago. Frankie doubted it would now.
“Cake?” Dana asked now, getting to her feet.
“I would love a piece,” Frankie said. “Let me help you.” She picked up her plate and Hank’s to take them into the kitchen against his mother’s protests. “You outdid yourself with dinner,” she said