Keeping Christmas Part 24

Dixie knew that sarcastic tone too well. "How long have you known?"

Rebecca smiled. "I overheard Mother and Mason arguing. What was I?" she asked Mason. "Five? I heard you threaten to kill her if she told my daddy. I heard everything you said, including how you would take me far away so she would never see me again."

Mason was looking at her, a strange expression on his face.

"You said you would kill me, you didn't care about the little snotty-nosed brat, isn't that what you said?" Rebecca continued, the gun held steady in her hand, her voice calm, no emotion in her face.

"Rebecca, put the gun away and we can talk about this," Chance said quietly. "You don't want to do anything you'll regret."

She laughed. "Believe me, I'm not going to regret it. When I heard you were in Montana, I knew what you were doing," she said to Dixie. "All those years of keeping the secret just to have you planning to tell the whole world about me and my mother and my..." Her gaze s.h.i.+fted to Mason. "My father. father. You would love to destroy me, wouldn't you?" You would love to destroy me, wouldn't you?"

"Rebecca, that's not true. I wouldn't-"

"Shut up!" She swung the gun so it was pointed at Dixie's face. "Daddy's little girl. You think I didn't know he loved you best? He knew I was some b.a.s.t.a.r.d's daughter. But you-" Her voice broke. "It doesn't matter. I always knew who I really was. What I really was. My own father hated me."

Mason made a sound of denial, but it was cut off by the boom of a shot from the pistol in Rebecca's hands. Wood splintered just over Mason's head.

Dixie felt Chance step up behind her, his hands on her waist. She knew what he planned to do, felt it in his touch.

"Rebecca," Chance said. "Give me the gun. You're not a killer."

She laughed. "Wrong, Chance. Who do you think hired the men to stop my sister? I'm my daddy's daughter." Her gaze moved to Mason. "My real real daddy's daughter." daddy's daughter."

As Chance shoved Dixie aside and launched himself at Rebecca, she swung the barrel of the gun. Dixie heard the thunder of the shot as she fell, heard the sound Mason made as the bullet found its mark.

Rebecca got off only one more shot before Chance reached her.

Dixie heard his cry of pain and scrambled to her feet in time to see her half sister hit the floor, the gun still in her hand.

Chance swung around, a look of horror on his face as he dragged Dixie into his arms, s.h.i.+elding her from the sight of her sister dead on the floor from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.

Epilogue That spring was the longest of Chance's life. It had snowed every day for months after Dixie had taken the jet back to Texas to be with her father.

Chance had wanted to go, but Dixie said she needed some time alone and that her father needed her. For a while, Chance called her every day, then once a week, then once a month. He knew Dixie and Beau needed to heal and that they both blamed themselves.

Beau had managed to keep the real story out of the press. As far as the public knew, the holidays had been a tragic time for the Bonner family. A burglar had broken into the Lancaster home and killed Oliver Lancaster, husband of Rebecca Bonner Lancaster, while she was away on Christmas vacation with her sister Dixie in Montana.

While there, she was tragically killed along with Beauregard Bonner's closest friend and a.s.sociate, Mason Roberts.

Only Chance knew that Beau had found an envelope with his name on it on his desk weeks later when he returned to his office. It was from Mason. A confession letter filled with painful apology and regret. In the letter, Mason told Beau he was taking the jet to Montana to try to protect Dixie from Rebecca. Mason feared that Rebecca was behind Dixie's abduction, faked kidnapping, and ultimately planned to have her killed.

Carl paid off Oliver's gambling debts, keeping that part quiet from the press, and spent more time with Beau at the house. They talked a lot about Sarah.

Dixie had quit her job and taken Rebecca's and Oliver's three children and moved into her father's huge empty house. Beau had retired, selling Bonner Unlimited, and setting up trust funds for the kids. He'd realized, according to Dixie, that he had no need to make more money.

Instead he wanted to spend more time with his family. Dixie sent pictures of the kids with grandpa.

More times than he could count, Chance started a letter to Dixie, asking her to bring the children and come be his wife. But he always ended up tossing the half-written letters in the fire.

He'd thought about going to Texas and begging her to come back with him. But he couldn't ask her to leave Texas, her family and the only home the kids had known, as much as she wanted to.

One bright warm day in June, Chance took his fis.h.i.+ng pole down to the lake, Beauregard bounding along beside him as they climbed into the boat and motored out to a favorite spot. He'd caught a few nice trout when he heard a commotion on the beach and looked back toward his cabin.

Over the winter, he'd remodeled it, adding a second floor to give himself something to do, as well as to put the memory of what had happened there far from his mind.

Now he stared toward the beach, his heart in his throat. When he'd built onto the cabin, he'd done it with the dream that maybe he could get Dixie and the kids to come up next Christmas. They could have a real Christmas with a larger tree. He'd even buy some decorations.

He knew that's all it was, a dream. He never thought he'd see Dixie Bonner in Montana again, let alone standing on his doorstep.

But as he started the motor on the boat and turned the bow toward sh.o.r.e, he could have sworn that was her on the beach. There were three kids playing in the water along the edge of the lake.

Beauregard barked excitedly as Chance neared the sh.o.r.e. He cut the engine, staring at the woman standing near his boathouse. She had her eyes shaded against the sun, but even from a distance he could see that she was smiling. Her long legs were tanned, that not-so-scrawny behind was clad in white shorts, and he could make out a peach tank top beneath that wild mane of dark curly hair that fell past her shoulders.

She hesitated only a moment, then charged toward him, splas.h.i.+ng into the water. Beauregard plunged in, swimming to her, making a yelping sound, excited at the sight of her.

Chance laughed, took off his s.h.i.+rt and dove in, swimming toward her as the boat floated lazily toward sh.o.r.e.

He caught her in chest-high water, pulling her into his arms. She was laughing and crying, kissing him, then pulling back to look into his eyes as if he was the best thing she'd ever seen.

"I got your letter," she said.

"My letter?"

"The one asking me to marry you, silly." She was grinning at him, mischief in her eyes.

"But I never-"

She kissed him cutting off the rest of his words. As she pulled back, she said, "But you know I would never accept a proposal unless it was in person."

"I recall." He looked into those amazing blue eyes. "Have you always known me so well?"

She grinned. "Since I was twelve and I fell madly in love with you. It was just a matter of time before you asked me to marry you. That is why you added on to the cabin, isn't it?"

He laughed. "You know it." He glanced toward the edge of the lake where Rebecca's three children stood as if waiting. They looked anxious, almost afraid of what was going to happen next. "Do they know?"

Dixie nodded. "They're just waiting for you to make it official so they can go swimming in the lake at their new home. Oh, I should mention that my father and uncle Carl plan to buy a place across the lake. They want to be close to the kids. Including the ones you and I are going to have. Still glad you sent me that letter?"

He laughed. "Marry me, Dixie Bonner, and I promise to love you and those three kids and any others we might have until death do us part."

"Just like in the letter you meant to write me," she said with a grin.

"Just like in all the letters I did write you but just didn't mail," he said as he brushed her wet hair back from her face, wondering how he could be so blessed. "Well?"

She grinned. "All I can say is...it's about time, Chance Walker." She kissed him, then let out a whoop. On the beach the kids started clapping and cheering. Then they were all in the water, the sun beating down on them, the sky bluer than blue on one of those amazing Montana summer days.

He said a prayer for his daughter and gathered his family around him, already thinking of Christmas and the homemade tinfoil silver star he'd saved to put on top of the tree.

Books by B.J. Daniels

HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

803-COWBOY ACCOMPLICE*

845-AMBUSHED!*

851-HIGH-CALIBER COWBOY*

857-SHOTGUN SURRENDER*

876-WHEN TWILIGHT COMES

897-CRIME SCENE AT CARDWELL RANCH**

915-SECRET WEAPON SPOUSE

936-UNDENIABLE PROOF

953-KEEPING CHRISTMAS**

969-BIG SKY STANDOFF**