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Someone had beaten her with a tire iron. Or a golf club. Or a baseball bat.
Amanda tried to swallow but found her tongue thick and her throat aching nearly as much as her head and shoulder did. She tried to open her eyes but immediately closed them again when the light caused her temples to throb.
“Hey, take it easy. It’s okay,” someone said.
A man.
A man—there’d been a man—her dad. He’d had a gun—
Hands restrained her when Amanda scrambled to get up off the ground. Her dad was going to shoot her—he was going to kill her.
“Shh. Amanda, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
She finally got her eyes open enough to take in a clinical, white space. Medical equipment. Carter bending over her, trying to keep her in her bed.
“You’re in the hospital,” he confirmed. “You’ve been shot.”
Shot?
Amanda’s mind reeled, but she let him ease her back onto her pillows, grateful to see him. If Carter was here, she was safe.
“What happened?” she tried to say, but it came out an indeterminate sound.
“Bullet creased your scalp. You got lucky. A half inch lower, and you’d be done for. I’m sorry, honey. None of us could get a clear shot at your dad until the very end.”
She’d been running, Amanda remembered. There’d been a bear—
No. That couldn’t be right. But she couldn’t martial her thoughts into any kind of order. She had glimpses of the forest. Thick trees. Brambles tearing at her clothes. Her dad forcing her ever onward toward Carter’s truck.
“Dad?” she breathed. Was he still alive? Would he come after her again? All her terror came flooding back, and suddenly she couldn’t find her voice.
“The sheriff has him.”
Tears welled from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She’d thought she was going to die. She’d thought she’d never see Carter again.
“Shh, it’s all right,” Carter said softly, smoothing her hair from her forehead. “I’m here with you.” He took her hand, and Amanda clung to it.
“Don’t leave,” she managed to say. “Please don’t leave. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Carter repeated. “Why should you be sorry?”
Because she’d brought danger to his door. Because her father could have killed him and his brothers. Why had she ever thought it was okay to stay at Elliott Ridge? She’d been so selfish.
“Selfish?” Carter asked, and she realized she must have said the word out loud. “Honey, you weren’t the one running around the Ridge taking people hostage. I wish you’d come to me if you were in trouble, though. I would have helped you, no matter what you were mixed up in. You know that, right?”
Amanda felt the warmth of his tone and heard the care in his voice, but her brain stuck on that one phrase. No matter what you were mixed up in.
What did he think had happened back there at the Ridge?
And how had he known to find her there? How had he known she needed help?
“I didn’t steal it.” She tried to get up again, but Carter restrained her. “I swear. I didn’t take it. My dad…” She snapped her mouth shut. Even now she found it hard to expose her father. They must have given her pain medication or maybe it was her throbbing head making it hard to keep her thoughts straight.
“Maybe that’s my cue to enter this conversation,” a man’s voice said.
Amanda opened her eyes again. Who was that?
“I’m Cab Johnson, sheriff of Chance Creek County.” A tall, barrel-chested man moved into view through the doorway. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“She just woke up. She’s too weak,” Carter protested.
But Amanda knew there was no getting out of this now. “It’s okay,” she said faintly. She’d tried to do things her way. Had tried to undo a crime after it was committed, as if you could erase the past. Now it was time to pay the piper. To do things right. If she didn’t, she’d keep putting Carter in danger.
As the sheriff positioned himself at the side of her bed, she pulled herself together, accepting a sip of water when Carter offered her a cup and allowing him to plump the pillows behind her.
“Do you know the man who assaulted you?”
“My father? Yes. Of course.” She nodded and winced. It was becoming easier to form words, but it still hurt to move.
“Do you know why he was after you?”
“I had something he wanted.” She wished she had more strength. Just forming the sentence took more energy than she seemed to possess, and her voice was so thin it was barely above a whisper.
“We found a painting in a bag at the scene. Was that what he was after?”
“Afternoon in Sunshine and Shadow. Yes.” Was this really happening? Was she being questioned by a sheriff because her father had tried to kill her? Shame welled from deep inside her, a feeling that was all too familiar, but it was worse than it had ever been before. This time her father’s crime felt personal. He’d lied to her. Used her. Come after her. Pointed a gun at her head.
She heard Carter expel a breath and knew he had to be putting it all together. She’d told him her father had forged a painting once before.
“Does it belong to you?”
She shook her head, more gingerly this time. “It’s part of a traveling exhibit. A Deloitte. It’s worth a lot of money.”
“Did you take it?”
She shook her head.
“Your father did?”
Amanda closed her eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek. She’d never again be able to pretend her father was a good man, the way she’d always done until now. She’d told herself it was Buck’s fault her father had been involved with forgery. She’d thought he’d stayed away to try to keep his wife and daughters safe. That wasn’t the case, though. He’d welcomed an excuse to get away from them—all of them.
He’d never even wanted her in the first place.
“How did you end up with the painting?”
“I found it among my father’s things one night in LA, when I came home from a party much earlier than he expected me to. I called him to find out why it was there, and he told me…” She trailed off. How could she explain the twisted history that made her believe his threats about Buck? “He’s done this before.” She had to make them understand.
Amanda told the sheriff about the first time her father forged a painting. About his partnership with Buck and how it had all gone wrong when Buck shot the security guard.
“After Buck’s attack on my father, and the fire at our house, I was terrified of him. I’ve always been afraid he’d get out of jail and come after us again. Dad guessed that. So when I called and told him I’d found the painting, he made up a story to get me out of my apartment long enough so he could come and get it. He said Buck was coming for it—for me. He told me to get out of there and then he hung up. He wanted me to run and leave the painting behind. I believed him, so when I heard someone at the front door, I did run. But I grabbed the painting first.” She hung her head at her foolishness. “I didn’t want Buck to get his hands on that masterpiece. I wanted to return it to the gallery before my dad got in trouble.”
Cab made a note. “What made you come to Chance Creek?”
“I left my car at the airport in Las Vegas, then flew to several different places. I was afraid Buck could get access to my credit card statements somehow. I didn’t think my flight destinations would show up there, but every time I rented a motel, I knew the location would show up on my bill. I thought if I could fly to some small town no one had ever heard of, I could find a rental situation where I could pay cash. I was in Wyoming by then. One of the flights I could book from there came to Chance Creek. I’d never heard of it. I figured no one would think to look for me here.”
“But then your father showed up.”
“Turns out Buck is still in jail,” Amanda said dully. “Dad lied—about everything. The night I came home early from the party, he’d meant to leave without telling me. He must have run out to grab something from the store, thinking he had plenty of time, but I got home before he did. When I found the painting and called him, he did the only thing he could do—tried to scare me out of there so he could come back, take the painting and make his getaway.”
“You said someone was at the door,” Carter pointed out.
Amanda thought about it. What had she heard? The doorknob jiggling? Could it have been her father trying to scare her away?
“Maybe it was him,” she said. “He told me if I’d come home ten minutes later, he’d already have been gone.”
“I should tell you we looked into this Buck Bronson person when we found out your dad was tied to a previous art theft attempt. Turns out Buck was due to get out of jail this year, but he was killed by another inmate a few weeks ago.”
“Did my dad have anything to do with that?”
Cab was already shaking his head. “Purely a prison dispute. Seems like Buck made some enemies over the years.”
Amanda tried to take that in. She’d never have to worry about Buck coming after her—or anyone else in her family—again. Somehow she didn’t feel relieved. She just felt… sad. She couldn’t understand why he’d made the choices he had.
Carter leaned forward. “Yesterday, when Melissa called, I told her where you were. Did she tell your father? Is that how he found you? He must have hopped on a plane right away.”
Cab shook his head. “Amanda’s father checked in to the Evergreen Motel two nights ago. He made a bit of a nuisance of himself asking around about you yesterday.”
“How did he know you were in the area?” Carter asked.
“I called Melissa at breakfast two days ago—after she emailed. She got it out of me that I was in Chance Creek County. She just didn’t know where I was staying,” Amanda admitted. “She must have told Dad right away, and he got straight on a plane. When he couldn’t track me down, he must have had her call back with that ruse about the present.”
“Which I fell for,” Carter said. “She asked for a street address, but I said no one delivered here. I gave her our PO box number instead.” He thought a moment. “But I told her we were at Elliott Ridge. That’s easy enough to look up.”
Before Amanda could assure him none of this was his fault, Cab cleared his throat. “I should tell you that we have Melissa in custody, too.”
“Melissa—in custody? Where? In Paris?” Amanda asked.
“At the Chance Creek County Sheriff’s office.”
“I don’t understand. Melissa is in France.”
“She told me she was calling from Paris,” Carter echoed, then stopped. Shook his head. “Actually, what she said was that she’d spent the last few years there. She didn’t say she was there at the time.”
“She arrived in Los Angeles about a month ago to take on a new job,” Cab said. “Assistant event coordinator for the Warden Gallery.”
Amanda gaped at him. “She… what?”
“Your dad needed someone on the inside to make the switch.”
“But…” Words failed her. Melissa had participated in their father’s crime?
She was shocked, but then she wondered if she should be. After all, Melissa had always taken her father’s side when the past came up. Maybe she wasn’t satisfied with the life she’d created any more than he was. Dancing careers tended to be short-lived.
“Sounds like your dad planned to follow her back to Europe as soon as they pulled off the heist.” A wry smile tugged at Cab’s mouth. “Your dad isn’t talking much, but once your sister got going, she couldn’t seem to stop. She told us she made the switch after hours, when she was supposed to be preparing for an upcoming event. She hid the original in a supply closet very few people used other than her. The next day during normal work hours, she ordered pizza and shared it around. When she took home the leftovers…”
“She smuggled the painting out in a pizza box? She could have damaged it!” Amanda was shocked all over again. Of course, she was one to talk; she’d carried Afternoon in Sunshine and Shadow halfway across the country in her carry-on bag.
“Your sister brought the painting straight to your father, who was all packed up and ready to go. They went around the corner to pick up a few last things from the store, thinking they had plenty of time.”
“And I came home from my party two hours early.”
And ruined everything.
Again, as her father had made so clear.
Her heart gave a pang when she remembered what he’d said. He’d married her mother only because she was pregnant. He’d never wanted her.
“I should have known my sister was involved,” she said dispiritedly, thinking about their first conversation after she arrived on Elliott Ridge. “She pretended to guess that I’d taken the painting. She said she knew me—I wouldn’t leave a masterpiece behind for Buck to get. She had me completely fooled. I thought I was the one telling her that Dad was up to his old tricks again. She knew all along.” And all that pretending about the present. It made Amanda’s stomach twist to think of her sister trying to get her address.
Carter squeezed her hand as if he could read her thoughts.
Amanda turned her attention back to Cab. “Melissa found out about Elliott Ridge yesterday. Why didn’t Dad show up then?”
“He did. He slept in our old treehouse last night,” Carter said. “Dennis found his things this morning and came to find me. Then Gage came across my truck parked on the road. That’s how we knew where to look for you.”
“Thank God you did.” She shuddered to think of the gun in her father’s hands. “He must have been waiting to catch me alone. If you hadn’t stayed with me last night, he might have come for me then.”
“You left without me in the morning,” Carter said. “He saw his chance and took it.”
“That’s something I don’t understand,” Cab said. “Amanda, you took Carter’s truck, drove off down the highway, parked just a little way down the road and went up the Ridge on foot. Why?”
“To get the painting.” She figured he actually did know that but wanted her to say it in her own words. “I hid it in one of the outbuildings near the mine. I didn’t want Carter or anyone else to see me going to get it.”
“Even if Amanda’s father saw her drive off, how’d he know to go to the mine to intercept her?” Carter asked.
“We found his rental car a mile or so down the road from where Amanda parked. It was tucked behind some trees on the side of the highway. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t looking,” Cab told them. “Let’s assume he parked it there and walked the rest of the way to the Ridge yesterday so you wouldn’t spot him. Reconnoitered the place and then holed up overnight in your treehouse. Got up early to keep casing the joint. When he saw Amanda drive off this morning, he would have assumed she was going to town. Maybe he took off running after her thinking he could get to his car, follow the highway and catch up with her before she even reached it. For all he knew, she had the painting with her.”
“If he was running after me, he might have seen me pull off the road, even from a distance,” Amanda said. “At the very least, he would have come across the truck within a few minutes of me parking it.”
“And then he followed you up the Ridge,” Carter said.
“I never even heard him tracking me.” Amanda stared up at the ceiling, utterly exhausted. “I did everything wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Carter leaned closer. “Your father and sister are the ones who screwed up.”
Shame overcame her as she realized soon everyone would know about the stolen painting. The news would spread just like it did the first time her father committed a crime. Chance Creek was a small town. Every time she went to the store or post office, people would stare and retell the story. They’d point and laugh. Or shift away when she came near.
Worse, she couldn’t pretend anymore that Buck was the one who’d destroyed her happy childhood. Her father had chosen a life of crime—twice over.
He’d used her for cover—for a free place to stay. Put her in danger. Come after her to get his prize back.
And her sister—
Amanda found it even harder to believe what Melissa did. She’d conspired with their father to steal a masterpiece. She’d helped him track her down to take it back.
Had either of them ever cared about her at all?
Amanda turned away from Carter and curled up on her side, burying her face in her hands. The IV line tugged against her bandages, but she ignored it. She wanted to sink into the hospital bed and disappear.
“Amanda.” Carter’s fingers stroked her hair as her tears flowed silently. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be all right.”
She didn’t know how he could say that. Her own family thought she was worthless. Disposable. All she’d wanted was a place to belong. Somewhere safe and calm. People to love.
What chance did she have for that now?
“That’s enough for today,” she heard Cab say quietly. “You’ll stay with her?”
“I’ll stay right by her side.”
She heard the door close.
“I should have never told your sister where you were.” Carter kept stroking her hair until her tears ran their course.
“It’s not your fault,” she finally managed to say.
He gently turned her toward him. “It’s not yours, either. You tried to set things right, didn’t you? Where were you taking the painting? Somewhere in Billings?”
“The library,” she croaked, her voice rough from all her crying. She explained how she planned to address it to the head librarian with instructions to turn it over to the FBI. “No one would ever know where it came from,” she said. “The painting would be returned, and no one would get hurt.”
“I thought I lost you back there.” He ran a finger over her cheek to her chin. “I couldn’t have stood that.”
She nodded miserably. “I thought I lost you, too.”
“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again. Amanda, I love you,” he said. “And I always will.”
She heard his words, but she could barely take in their meaning. He loved her?
But how? She was such a mess.
“I love the way you feel in my arms,” he told her, kissing her forehead. “I love the way you understood what I was trying to do with the Ridge and decided to pitch in to help.” He kissed one cheek and then the other. “I love the way you saw the possibilities for number twenty-three. I love the way you didn’t back down when Gage tried to scare you off. You’re the kind of woman I always hoped I’d someday find, and I can’t stand the thought of not getting to keep you close.” He dropped a kiss on the end of her nose.
“My dad’s a thief,” she said. “A forger. He’s a criminal. So is my sister.”
“So we’ll leave them off the guest list for the wedding.” Carter shrugged. “I’m not in love with your dad—or your sister, Amanda.”
Wedding? Amanda held her breath. What was he saying?
“I love you,” he said again.
Amanda’s heart overflowed with emotion. “I love you, too,” she confessed.
“You do?” He cupped her chin and searched her gaze as she nodded, then groaned as he bent to kiss her on her mouth, softly at first and then more deeply. Amanda wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to hold him there forever, but he pulled back an inch. “Then I’m going to go ahead and ask you. I know it’s crazy. I know it’s too soon, but will you marry—”
“Yes!” Amanda surged forward and kissed him again. “Yes, I will.” She wasn’t going to let this chance at happiness slip away. She’d learned in the past twenty-four hours that you never knew what life was going to throw at you. Some surprises were good. Most weren’t.
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her hair. “I didn’t even ask the whole question.”
“Then ask!” She kissed his neck and the underside of his jaw, loving the taste of him, the feel of him in her arms. She’d thought she’d lost him twice today, once at the Ridge when her father pointed his pistol at her and again when she’d had to confess the sordid story of her family in front of him. Carter didn’t care what her family had done, however. He could look past the mess of her life and still love her.
“Amanda Stakewell, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said again.
Carter pulled back an inch. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Amanda didn’t think she could take any more bad news—Carter was looking too serious for it to be good. “What?”
“The subdivision was denied. I can’t sell you number twenty-three for a dollar.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in. “Where… will we live?” She hadn’t expected that.
His smile was a little lopsided. “In number twenty-three,” he said. “At least we will for as long as we own the Ridge. Don’t think of it as losing a house so much as gaining a hundred and twenty more of them, since you’ll be an Elliott soon and we’ll have to retain ownership of them all. If we can’t sell them, we’ll just rent them out. It’s how we always used to do things.”
She nodded slowly.
“We won’t let Warrington win,” he promised her.
“Of course not.”
“But if he does, I might want to move to South Carolina to be close to my folks.”
“I can do that.”
“You sure?”
“All I want is you. And that eight-foot kitchen island you promised me,” she added.
He smiled. “You can have both, wherever we end up.” He moved to take her in his arms. By the time a nurse rapped on the door and opened it, he was halfway in the hospital bed with her. Amanda laughed when she saw the look on the woman’s face.
“Guess you’re feeling better, Amanda.” The nurse came to check her pulse as Carter slid back into his bedside chair and composed himself.
“I am.” Although it still hurt to think of her father and sister and what they’d tried to do. It hurt to remember what her father had told her. He’d never wanted her—
But Carter wanted her. Amanda resolved to put her father and Melissa out of her mind. From now on, she’d concentrate on the people who did love her. She still had her mother. And Carter’s big family. That would have to be enough.
“That’s what we like to hear.” The nurse moved around the room efficiently and noted something on Amanda’s chart. “You’re supposed to be resting, you know.”
“I’ll keep her quiet,” Carter said.
And winked at Amanda.
Love surged through her, chased by desire. Amanda couldn’t wait to be alone with him again.
There was another knock on the door, and it swung open again. Gage appeared.
“No more visitors. She needs to rest,” the nurse admonished him.
“I won’t stay long.” He held the door until she’d gone. After closing it, he faced them. “Amanda, you doing all right?”
“I’ve been better,” she said, “but I’ll be fine.”
“Glad to hear that.”
“Amanda just agreed to be my wife,” Carter said.
“Glad to hear that, too.” If Gage was surprised, he hid it well. “I won’t keep you long. I imagine you’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Carter smiled at her. Amanda had a feeling there wouldn’t be a lot of talking going on once they had the room to themselves.
“Just thought you’d want to know the subdivision has been approved after all.”
Carter straightened. “How the hell did you manage that?”
“Who says I had anything to do with it?”
Carter waited him out.
“I might have had a word with Rod Stevenson this afternoon and reminded him of some unfortunate photos that landed online about a decade ago.”
“What photos?”
Gage shrugged. “Amazing what you can find when you go digging. Seems Rod had a bit of a drinking problem when he was away at school. Took his clothes off in public a few times. His friends obliged him by documenting it. I’m sure those pictures wouldn’t disturb anyone from the big city, but more than a few people in Chance Creek would be surprised.”
“Gage Elliott, you are devious,” Amanda said.
“I live to serve. Most people have something in their past they’d like to hide. I figured Rod would, too. That’s why I was on my way to town this morning. I needed a better internet connection to do some research on him. That all went to hell when I spotted Carter’s truck by the side of the road. As soon as you were safely at the hospital, though, I got back to it and hit up a few friends whose skills are even better than mine. Didn’t take us long to find what I needed. I imagine Rod jumped through some hoops at some point to scrub those images off the web.”
“Didn’t scrub hard enough, though?” Carter asked.
“Not by a long shot.”
“I didn’t think you cared if the subdivision went through or not.”
Gage stilled. “Don’t ever assume I don’t care,” he said quietly. “Night, Amanda. Feel better.”
“Thanks. For everything,” she called after him as he left.
Carter shook his head when Gage was gone. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t hear it for myself.” He turned to take her hands. “Guess I can sell you that house after all.”