Lone Rider. B.J. Daniels
suicide away and not give it another thought. He wondered if it was an act. The same way she pretended nothing had changed in their marriage since Sarah had come back.
Angelina hadn’t mentioned her brother’s name since his arrest and suicide. Nor had she seemed to mourn his death, shedding only a few photo-op tears at his funeral. Lane Broadwater had been Buckmaster’s campaign manager when he’d run for the Senate. When Lane was arrested for killing the man who’d been blackmailing Angelina for years, all Angelina had said was—“There’s more to the story than you know.”
There always was with Angelina. Buckmaster had married her after spending seven years mourning his first wife’s death. Sarah’s car had gone into the Yellowstone River one winter night twenty-two years ago, her body never found.
He’d married Angelina for her name and her society upbringing to help him with his political career. She and her brother had been a godsend in so many ways. Not only had they helped him win the Senate race, but also they’d put him in a position where the presidency was his if he wanted it.
And he wanted it.
Or at least, he had until his first wife had come back from the dead.
Sarah swore that she didn’t remember anything about the past twenty-two years or her attempted suicide before she’d disappeared. Her last memory, according to her, was giving birth to the twins. Harper and Cassidy were now both recent college graduates.
Sarah’s untimely return—right after he had thrown his hat in the presidential ring—had changed everything, especially between him and Angelina. For months they’d argued about him staying in the running for president. It had been his daughters who had talked him into continuing.
He’d thought for sure that Sarah’s return and the story of her suicide attempt would have ruined any chances he had to get elected. But in a surprising turn of events, just the opposite had happened. The voting public were sympathetic to his dilemma. Even the press had cut him some slack.
Angelina took a sip of her coffee, studying him over the rim of her cup. “I suppose you’re going to see Sarah now that we’re back.”
“I’m not going anywhere right now,” he said. “And I don’t want to argue.”
“It would just be nice if you would tell me when you were going to see her,” Angelina said.
Nice? Who was she kidding? She didn’t understand that even if Sarah was no longer legally his wife, he still felt responsible for her. She was the mother of his six daughters.
He stepped to the window. Several news vans and one older-model black pickup were parked out by the gate. Every time he left the house, they followed him. The cowboy in the older-model black truck had tailed him several times when he’d gone to meet Sarah, but he’d managed to lose the guy.
“I assume Sarah is still hiding out from the press?” Angelina asked.
“They are determined to find out why she came back now, where she’s been and what happens next.”
Angelina raised a brow as if those were questions she wanted answered, as well. “Why don’t you leak it to the press where she is and get it over with?”
“Because I don’t know where she is,” he snapped, and saw her satisfied look.
It galled him that Sarah was staying with the rancher who’d found her the day she’d reappeared in nearby Beartooth. Russell Murdock had been driving along one of the narrow dirt roads just past the cemetery in the middle of nowhere when Sarah had apparently stepped out of the trees. She’d been scraped up and disoriented with no idea how she’d gotten there or where she’d been.
At least, that was her story. Angelina didn’t buy it for a minute. She argued that Sarah was faking it and had only returned to ruin his chances of becoming president. He didn’t know what he believed. Sarah had been the love of his life. He’d had six beautiful daughters with her. It had almost killed him when he thought she’d taken her life that night in the river. Then she’d come back from the dead, proving that she could break his heart all over again.
“I’m sure that once they find out where Sarah is staying, they will talk to her,” Angelina said. “Maybe she’ll start saying something that makes sense.” She didn’t sound the least bit sympathetic. She didn’t seem to understand that Sarah’s return had made him question everything about his life, maybe especially his marriage to Angelina and his run for president.
For him, a whole lot of things had changed. What was strange was that he’d sensed it coming. Worse, the darkness he’d felt on the horizon hadn’t dissipated with Sarah’s return from the grave. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something even darker loomed over them all.
“Now more than ever, we need a show of solidarity,” he said, not for the first time. Angelina’s jealousy had brought out a nasty side of her personality that he’d never known existed.
“Where does Sarah fit in all that harmony?” she asked snidely.
He wished he knew.
As he started to close the drapes so he didn’t have to see the reporters hanging around out by the gate, he noticed a pickup pulling a horse trailer up the road toward the house. He had hired armed guards at the gate to keep the reporters out, but someone was now roaring toward the house in a truck he didn’t recognize.
“Now what?” he asked under his breath.
* * *
JACE HAD JUST knocked at the door when another truck drove up from the direction of the corrals. As Senator Buckmaster Hamilton himself opened the door, he was looking past Jace’s shoulder. Jace glanced back to see Cooper Barnett climb out of his truck and walk toward them.
Jace turned back around. “I’m Jace Calder,” he said, holding out his hand as the senator’s gaze shifted to him.
The senator frowned but shook his hand. “I know who you are. I’m just wondering what’s got you on my doorstep so early in the morning.”
“I’m here about your daughter Bo.”
Buckmaster looked to Cooper. “Tell me you aren’t here about my daughter Olivia.”
Cooper laughed. “My pregnant bride is just fine, thanks.”
The senator let out an exaggerated breath and turned his attention back to Jace. “What’s this about—” But before he could finish, a tall, elegant blonde woman appeared at his side. Jace recognized Angelina Broadwater Hamilton, the senator’s second wife. The rumors about her being kicked out of the house to make way for Buckmaster’s first wife weren’t true, it seemed.
She put a hand on Buckmaster’s arm. “It’s the auditor calling from the foundation office. He’s looking for Bo. She didn’t show up for work today, and there seems to be a problem.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Jace said.
“Me, too,” Cooper said, sounding surprised.
“Come in, then,” Buckmaster said, waving both men inside. Once he’d closed the big door behind them, he asked, “Now what’s this about Bo?”
“I was just talking to one of the wranglers,” Cooper said, jumping in ahead of Jace. “Bo apparently left Saturday afternoon on horseback, saying she’d be back this morning, but she hasn’t returned.”
“That’s what I heard, as well,” Jace said, taking the opening. “I need to know where she might have gone.”
Both Buckmaster and Cooper looked to him. “You sound as if you’re planning to go after her,” the senator said.
“I am.”
“Why would you do that? I didn’t think you two were seeing each other?” Cooper asked like the protective brother-in-law he was.
“We’re not,” Jace said.
“Wait