Hunting Down the Horseman. B.J. Daniels

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      BJ DANIELS wrote her first book after a career as an award-winning newspaper journalist and author of thirty-seven published short stories.

      Daniels lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, and two springer spaniels, Spot and Jem. When she isn’t writing, she snowboards, camps, boats and plays tennis. Daniels is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Thriller Writers, Kiss of Death and Romance Writers of America.

      To contact her, write to BJ Daniels, PO Box 1173, Malta, MT 59538, USA, or e-mail her at bjdaniels@mtintouch. net. Check out her website, www.bjdaniels.com.

       Available in September 2010 from Mills & Boon® Intrigue

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      Hunting Down the Horseman by BJ Daniels

      I always wanted a sister, but my mother didn’t cooperate. So I’m not sure how it was that I came to write a book about sisters. But I did. Fortunately, I have two women in my life who have been like sisters – sister-in-laws who also became good friends. That’s why this book is dedicated to Frances Demarais and Annie Rissman for being the sisters I never had.

      Chapter One

      According to the legend, the town of Lost Creek is cursed. Only a few buildings remain along the shore of the Missouri River in an isolated part of Montana.

      The story told over the years is that a band of outlaws rode into the fledgling town and killed a mother and child, while the rest of the residents watched from a safe distance.

      When the husband returned, he found his wife lying dead in the dirt street, his child and her doll lying next to her, and the townspeople still hiding from the outlaws.

      He picked up his daughter’s doll from the dirt and swore revenge on the townspeople.

      One by one, residents began to find a small cloth doll on their doorsteps—and then they’d die. According to one story, the rest of the townspeople fled for their lives.

      But another story tells of a pile of bones found at the bottom of a cave years later. Men, women and children’s bones—the residents of Lost Creek and evidence of a story of true retribution.

      THE SUN SINKING into the Little Rockies, Jud Corbett spurred his horse as he raced through the narrow canyon. Behind him he could hear the thunder of horses growing louder. The marshal star he wore on his leather vest caught the light as the canyon heat rose in waves, making the towering rock walls shimmer. Sweat trickled down his back. His mouth went dry.

      Just a little farther.

      His horse stumbled as he rounded the last bend and almost went down. He’d lost precious seconds. The riders were close behind him. If his horse had fallen…

      His gray Stetson pulled down low over his dark hair, he burst from the canyon. On the horizon, the ghost town of Lost Creek wavered like a mirage under the cloudless blue of Montana’s big sky.

      Jud felt his heart leap as he spurred his horse to even more speed, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

      Almost there.

      The loud report of a rifle shot punctuated the air. Jud grabbed his side, doubling over and grimacing with pain. The second shot caught him in the back.

      Tumbling headlong from his horse, he hit the ground in a cloud of dust.

      “Cut! That’s a wrap.”

      FROM THE SIDELINES, assistant director Nancy Davis watched Jud Corbett get up grinning to retrieve his Stetson from the dirt.

      “He’s such a showoff,” stuntwoman Brooke Keith said beside her, her tone a mixture of envy and awe.

      “The man just loves his work,” Nancy said, cutting her gaze to the stuntwoman and body double.

      That got a chuckle from Brooke. “Kind of like the way the leading lady just likes to be friendly.”

      Nancy watched as Chantal Lee sauntered over to Jud and, standing on tiptoes, whispered something in his ear. Jud let loose that famous grin of his as Chantal brushed her lips against the stuntman’s suntanned cheek before she sauntered away, her hips swaying provocatively.

      “Easy,” Nancy warned.

      “Easy is exactly what she is,” Brooke said with obvious disgust as she walked off toward Jud.

      Jud Corbett was shaking his head in obvious amusement at Chantal. Whatever she’d offered him, he wasn’t taking the bait.

      As Brooke joined Jud, Nancy couldn’t help the sliver of worry that wedged itself just under her skin. All she needed was Chantal and Brooke at each other’s throats. There was enough animosity between them as it was. She’d have to talk to Chantal and tell her to tone it down.

      As for Brooke…Nancy watched the stuntwoman sidle up to Jud and knew the signs only too well. A catfight was brewing, and Jud was about to be caught right in the middle. Nancy wondered if he realized yet what a dangerous position he was in.

      “NICE STUNT,” Brooke said with an edge to her voice as she handed Jud a bottle of water.

      “Thanks,” he said and took a long drink. “But you could have done that stunt blindfolded.”

      She smiled at that, but the smile never reached her eyes. “I was referring to Chantal’s stunt.”

      “I hadn’t noticed.” He’d noticed, though he certainly hadn’t taken it seriously. Chantal liked to stir things up.

      Brooke chuckled. “You noticed.”

      “Good thing I never date women I work with while on a film.”

      Brooke eyed him. “That’s your rule?”

      “The Corbett Code,” Jud said, lifting his right hand as if swearing in.

      She laughed. He liked Brooke. He’d worked on a couple of films with her. She was a grown-up tomboy.

      Chantal Lee, on the other hand, was a blue-eyed blond beauty, all legs, bulging bosom and flowing golden