Читать книгу Atonement - B.J. Daniels, B.J. Daniels - Страница 8

CHAPTER ONE

FROM THE MIDDLE of the corral, Dillon Lawson tugged gently on the halter rope, urging the filly in a circle. She was a beauty and he couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride in her. The filly was smart, too. He’d known that the moment he’d looked into her eyes after she was born.

He’d named her Bright Beauty, struck dumb by the miracle of birth and the courage he’d seen in the foal as she’d stumbled to her feet for the first time.

Now as she trotted the tight circle around him, he could feel her gaze on him. The breeze lifted her red mane and she seemed to prance as if wanting to please him.

His heart swelled. His father wouldn’t have approved of the way he’d gentled her. Burt Lawson “broke” his horses, the same way he’d tried to break his sons. The thought brought with it fresh pain. For whatever reason, their father had always been meaner to Ethan. It was why Dillon had spent years trying to protect his brother—only to fail him in the end.

Not even this beautiful Montana spring day or the filly he’d nurtured since birth could keep his mind off his brother—and the upcoming one-year anniversary of Ethan’s death. Dillon wasn’t sure what was worse, the guilt that he’d let his brother down or the grief of having lost the last member of his family.

“Ethan!”

With his mind on his brother, Dillon thought he’d only imagined the voice. He looked over, surprised to see a woman he didn’t recognize at the corral fence. He lived so far out of town he seldom had strangers come in off the highway. Nor had he heard anyone drive up. He did a quick glance to the yard. No vehicle. Where had she come from?

His gaze returned to the woman. She’d climbed up the corral fence and now clung to the top rail. A mass of curly dark hair floated around a face dominated by huge blue eyes. That was all he was able to take in before she spoke again.

“Ethan.” She said the name like a curse. He’d thought he must have heard her wrong the first time she’d said his brother’s name. This time he heard anger in that one painful word. Anger and disappointment.

A chill ran the length of his spine.

She thought he was his brother.

That realization came like a kick to his gut. He slowed the filly to a stop and pushed back his Western straw hat. A warm sun slipped toward the west, making the breeze that blew down from the Crazy Mountains suddenly feel cold. The snow-fed breeze was a reminder that this was Montana in the spring and, like life, it could change at a moment’s notice.

Dropping the halter rope, he took off his hat and, stepping toward her, tried to clear his throat. A lump had lodged there. If this woman had mistaken him for Ethan, then she must not know about his death.

As he drew closer, the woman’s eyes narrowed. Her anger confused him. But then again, who knew what his brother had been up to before he died? Ethan had always attracted trouble like a magnet to metal, and Dillon had known little about his brother’s life the past few years. That was the way Ethan had wanted it.

He was within a few feet of her when he saw her eyes fill with tears, then all the color suddenly bled from her face. She teetered on the corral railing for a moment before starting to slump backward in a faint.

Dillon took two long strides, bounded over the corral fence and managed to catch her before she hit the ground. Holding her in his arms, he looked down at her and felt his eyes widen.

The woman was pregnant. Very pregnant.

Her thick lashes fluttered. Those big blue eyes opened and zeroed in on him.

The roundhouse slap she gave him was hard and did more than surprise him.

“You bastard.”

“You’ve made a mistake,” Dillon said.

“The mistake was ever falling for you.”

He shook his head sadly. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“You’re telling me? Put me down.”

Dillon did as she’d ordered and watched her struggle to get her feet under herself. Seeing him had been a shock for her, that much was clear. And yet she’d come here looking for him, as if...

He frowned as he tried to make sense of this. Ethan had been dead a year tomorrow. Why would she think he was Ethan? Not to mention... He stared at her swollen belly. The woman looked as if she might deliver that baby at any moment.

“You knew my brother?” he asked suspiciously.

She had dropped her large shoulder bag. She now bent to pick it up from the dirt before turning to glare at him. “I just want my money,” she said as she slung the bag over her right shoulder.

“Your money? Are you talking about the insurance money?” The check had come only a few days ago. Apparently his brother had taken out a half-million-dollar policy on himself and made Dillon the beneficiary. Ethan had always been full of surprises. This woman was apparently another one.

“Insurance? Is that what you call it? Just give me what’s mine and I’m out of your hair for good,” she said, and glanced toward the mountains as if she couldn’t bear looking at him any longer.

Sweetgrass County was rimmed with snowcapped mountain peaks, making some people think it was paradise. Dillon was one of those people. The moment he’d seen the Crazy Mountains, he’d known this was where he wanted to settle—rather than the logging town in western Montana where they’d grown up. His brother, Ethan, had hightailed it the moment he turned eighteen and apparently had never looked back.

When her gaze returned to his, Dillon saw that she hadn’t been admiring the breathtaking Montana scenery. She’d apparently been trying to tamp down her anger—and failing.

“Why don’t we go into the house?” he suggested. “I think we can settle this easy enough. Just let me get the halter rope off my horse—”

“If you think you can sweet-talk me, you’re dead wrong. And you sure as the devil aren’t seducing me. Not again.” Her hand went to her stomach and he felt his heart drop.

She wasn’t really going to try to convince him that she was carrying Ethan’s baby, was she? He’d never been the brightest kid in school, but this one was a math no-brainer. Even if the woman did look as if she could give birth any moment, his brother had been gone twelve months tomorrow.

“Look, I’m not sure what your story is, but that baby you’re carrying? It isn’t—”

“If you dare say it isn’t yours...” Her right hand dipped into her shoulder bag. An instant later he was staring down the barrel of a .45.