Hero's Return

But as the elevator door opened, she saw him and her heart took a roller-coaster-ride dip. In his dress Western attire, he was even more handsome. But it was the look on his face when he saw her that squeezed her heart like a fist. Had any man ever looked at her like that?

She looked away, not surprised to see that several women in the lobby were admiring the cowboy. As she stepped out of the elevator and started toward him, the women gave her an appreciative look—though a little green-eyed.

For a woman who didn’t consider this a date, she’d put her hair up, leaving several dark tendrils to fall free around her face. Never one to wear much makeup, she’d kept it at a minimum, but at the last minute she had added just a touch of coral stain to her lips and two drops of her favorite perfume between her breasts.

The dress she wore was teal and fell over her curves like warm tropical waves. The hem hit just above her knees, calling attention to her long legs and the strappy new heels she’d purchased uptown.

From the widening of Tucker’s gray eyes, it had been effective.

“You look amazing,” he whispered as he leaned toward her. His lips brushed her ear, sending shivers rippling through her. She caught the scent of his cologne, something woodsy, masculine and surprisingly seductive.

She breathed him in, wanting more and feeling bereft when he stepped back, taking his scent with him.

“There’s a restaurant within walking distance of the hotel, if that’s all right,” he said, those gray eyes locking with hers. A woman without her grit could get lost in those eyes.

“Perfect.” She figured she needed the fresh air to clear her head. This was starting to feel dangerously like a real date.

Tucker placed a large, warm hand at the center of her back. The heat burned through the sheer fabric of her dress as he steered her toward the front door. His touch sent a wave of knee-buckling need through her. She took his arm, feeling a little unsteady on her legs as she realized this wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought.

* * *

TUCKER HAD HIS breath taken away at the sight of Kate Rothschild as she came off the elevator. It hit him hard, as it had been a long time since a woman had done that to him.

He reminded himself of what he’d seen her do at the creek. Kate had some connection to Madeline. Add to that the fact this woman was an investigative reporter. He had no idea why she’d done it, but he didn’t think for a moment that she’d suggested dinner because of his charm—or lack thereof.

“Why don’t we cut straight to the chase?” he said once they were seated in the restaurant and had ordered wine. “What does a city slicker investigative reporter and daughter of a Montana congressman have in common with the skeletal remains of a woman found in a creek in Gilt Edge, Montana?”

Kate seemed taken aback by the question. He’d caught her off guard, something he doubted happened often. She smiled and leaned back as the waiter appeared with the bottle of wine and poured them each a glass.

After the waiter left, she said, “You do get right to the point.”

“I’ve found it saves time. So why don’t you tell me what I witnessed down at the creek?”

“I’m not sure what you think you saw,” she began.

“You knew Madeline. And what I saw tells me that you had mixed feelings about her.”

She laughed. “You sure that’s what you saw?”

He met her gaze and held it. “We goin’ to keep playin’ word games? What’s your connection to Madeline Dunn?”

“Dunn? You’re sure that’s her name?”

He saw that she hadn’t known Madeline’s last name any more than he had until earlier. “My brother thinks that might have been her last name. The DNA report hasn’t come back for a positive ID yet.”

She raised a brow and leaned toward him. That she looked beautiful tonight in the candlelight was definitely a distraction. But once you’ve been taken advantage of by one woman, you can’t help but be gun-shy of all of them—especially one who smelled like sunshine after a rain.

“Since you know I work for a newspaper in New York City, maybe I’m doing a freelance story on the case.”

He raised a brow.

“I admit I might have gotten a little emotional down at the creek earlier. It’s a horrible thing for a young woman that age to drown and not be found for so many years.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What other possible reason could I have?” she asked with an innocent twinkle in those big green eyes.

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out tonight.”

“Strange,” she said, her smile tempting him to do more than raise his wineglass to clink against hers. “I was hoping to find out more about you tonight, as well.”

He fought the urge to dive into all that deep sea green and just swim around for a while. As leery as he was of this woman—and with good reason—he was also enjoying himself.

In the years he’d been gone, he hadn’t dated. All his encounters had been in passing. But none of the women he’d met were like this one. That alone put him on guard.

Kate carefully touched her wineglass to his like a quick kiss. “To discovering all kinds of things about each other tonight.”

There was daring in her gaze. He’d never been able to back down from a challenge. He suspected she had the same problem. “To unlocking all your secrets,” he said, making her eyes widen a little before she laughed.

“Okay, cowboy. Why don’t we start with Madeline and why you were on that bridge earlier? Remembering one special night, were you?”

His hand holding the glass jerked, almost spilling his wine. Kate’s smile widened. “Am I moving too fast for you?”

Tucker felt his head swim. “You sent the package.”

CHAPTER SEVEN (#u5116cf9d-d5b1-50f9-bf71-3d2d10e4b2be)

WITH TUCKER ON a date tonight, there was no reason Flint couldn’t just enjoy an evening at home with Maggie. He still couldn’t believe that Tucker was back. Back safe and sound. So why was he still worried about him?

Tuck was out with a reporter. That was worry enough. But it was more than that. He remembered what his brother had said about being in love with Madeline Ross aka Madeline Dunn. If that was her name.

The tentative ID the coroner had gotten was based on a dentist’s memory of a woman’s teeth from twenty-three years ago. The woman had paid with a check from Madeline Dunn’s account, but that didn’t mean she was Madeline Dunn.

He’d been in law enforcement long enough to know better than jumping to conclusions until he had the facts. Once they had the DNA, then he could track down the Dunns and see if it was a match. Tucker had said that Madeline had a brother. If they could find him or their father...

But what he didn’t know was worrying him. Not that he believed for a minute that Tuck might have had something to do with the woman’s death. He knew his brother. Well, he’d known the Tucker he’d grown up with, but there were nineteen years that hadn’t been accounted for yet.

Flint shook his head, hating where his thoughts had gone. The woman had jumped, just as Tuck had said. The woman had been trying to con money out of his brother by pretending she was pregnant. Worse, she wanted him to believe that she was willing to kill herself and their baby if he didn’t pay up.

Flint realized that he’d balled up his hands into fists at the thought of Madeline. How would his brother have reacted if he’d found out that night on the bridge that it had all been a huge lie?

“You’re just tired,” he told himself. His day had been filled with phone calls, problems with traffic and two DUIs that Harp had picked up. Most days, there were barking dog complaints, checks on elderly relatives, shoplifting kids and endless paperwork. Sometimes Flint wondered why he’d gotten into law enforcement.

Earlier, before he’d spoken with the coroner, he’d gone through missing-persons reports looking for a woman of about the age of the skeletal remains found in the creek, surprised there was none. He’d called around to the other towns. No missing-persons report on the woman during that time. That seemed strange unless she had no family in the state.

Now he hesitated. Why hadn’t he considered earlier that his brother would be considered a suspect if anyone else was sheriff? It hadn’t crossed his mind because he knew Tucker. Or at least thought he did.

He swore as he glanced over at the package with that damned doll in it. Someone knew Tucker would come back to Gilt Edge. The same person who’d been waiting for Madeline downstream? Or someone with an even darker ulterior motive?