B.J. Daniels - Christmas At Cardwell Ranch

“Doesn’t matter,” he added quickly as he pulled the gun from behind him and handed it to her through the window. “It’s ready to go. All you have to do is pull the trigger. Aim for the largest part of a person.” He saw her cringe. “You can do this.”

She nodded, a determined look settling on her features.

He gave her a smile, then pulled off his glove and reached through the broken window to touch her face with his fingertips. She closed her eyes, leaning into his warm palm. Tears beaded her lashes when he pulled his hand away.

Christmas at

Cardwell Ranch

B.J. Daniels

www.millsandboon.co.uk

USA TODAY bestselling author B.J. DANIELSwrote her first book after a career as an award-winning newspaper journalist and author of thirty-seven published short stories. That first book, Odd Man Out , received a four-and-a-half-star review from RT Book Reviews and went on to be nominated for Best Intrigue that year. Since then, she has won numerous awards, including a career achievement award for romantic suspense and many nominations and awards for best book.

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, International Thriller Writers, Kiss of Death and Romance Writers of America.

To contact her, write to B.J. Daniels, PO Box 1173, Malta, MT 59538, USA, or email her at bjdaniels@mtintouch.net. Check out her website, www.bjdaniels.com.

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In memory of Rita Ness, who will always be

remembered as the bright ray of sunshine she was.

She is dearly missed.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One

Huge snowflakes drifted down out of a midnight-blue winter sky. Tanner “Tag” Cardwell stopped to turn his face up to the falling snow. It had been so long since he’d been anywhere that it snowed like this.

Christmas lights twinkled in all the windows of the businesses of Big Sky’s Meadow Village, and he could hear “White Christmas” playing in one of the ski shops.

But it was a different kind of music that called to him tonight as he walked through the snow to the Canyon Bar.

Shoving open the door, he felt a wave of warmth hit him, along with the smell of beer and the familiar sound of country music.

He smiled as the band broke into an old country-and-western song, one he’d learned at his father’s knee. Tag let the door close behind him on the winter night and shook snow from his new ski jacket as he looked around. He’d had to buy the coat because for the past twenty-one years, he’d been living down South.

Friday night just days from Christmas in Big Sky, Montana, the bar was packed with a mix of locals, skiers, snowmobilers and cowboys. There’d be a fight for sure before the night was over. He planned to be long gone before then, though.

His gaze returned to the raised platform where the band, Canyon Cowboys, was playing. He played a little guitar himself, but he’d never been as good as his father, he thought as he watched Harlan Cardwell pick and strum to the music. His uncle, Angus Cardwell, was no slouch, either.

Tag had always loved listening to them play together when he was a kid. Music was in their blood. That and bars. As a kid, he’d fallen asleep many weekend nights in a bar in this canyon listening to his father play guitar. It was one of the reasons his mother had gathered up her five sons, divorced Harlan and taken her brood off to Texas to be raised in the Lone Star State.

Tag and his brothers had been angry with their dad for not fighting for them. As they’d gotten older, they’d realized their mother had done them a favor. Harlan knew nothing about raising kids. He was an easygoing cowboy who only came alive when you handed him a guitar—or a beer.

Still, as Tag watched his father launch into another song, he realized how much he’d missed him—and Montana. Had Harlan missed him, as well? Doubtful, Tag thought, remembering the reception he’d gotten when he’d knocked at his father’s cabin door this morning.

“Tag?”

“Surprise.”

“What are you doing here?” his father had asked, moving a little to block his view of the interior of the cabin.

“It’s Christmas. I wanted to spend it with you.”

Harlan couldn’t have looked any more shocked by that—or upset.

Tag realized that surprising his father had been a mistake. “If this is a bad time...”

His father quickly shook his head, still blocking the door, though. “No, it’s just that...well, you know, the cabin is a mess. If you give me a little while...”

Tag peered past him and lowered his voice. “If you have someone staying here—”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that.”

But behind his father, Tag had spotted a leather jacket, female size, on the arm of the couch. “No problem. I thought I’d go see my cousin Dana. I’ll come back later. Actually, if you want, I could get a motel—”

“No. Stay here. Bring your stuff back later. I’ll have the spare room made up for you. Your uncle and I are playing tonight at the Canyon.”

“Great. I’ll stop by. I haven’t heard you play in a long time. It’ll be nice.”

Tag had left, but he was still curious about his father’s female visitor. He knew nothing about his father’s life. Harlan could have a girlfriend. It wasn’t that unusual for a good-looking man in his fifties.

Tag tried not to let Harlan’s reaction to him showing up unexpectedly bother him. Determined to enjoy the holiday here, he had made plans tomorrow to go Christmas tree hunting with his Montana cousin Dana Cardwell. He’d missed his cousins and had fond memories of winter in Montana, sledding, skiing, ice-skating, starting snowball fights and cutting their own Christmas trees. He looked forward to seeing his cousins Jordan and Stacy, as well. Clay was still in California helping make movies last he’d heard, but Dana had said he was flying in Christmas Eve.

Tag planned to do all the things he had done as a boy this Christmas. Not that he could ever bring back those family holidays he remembered. For starters, his four brothers were all still in Texas. The five of them had started a barbecue joint, which had grown into a chain called Texas Boys Barbecue.

He would miss his brothers and mother this Christmas, but he was glad to have this time with his cousins and his dad. As the band wound up one song and quickly broke into another, he finished his beer. He’d see his father back at the cabin. Earlier, he’d returned to find the woman’s leather jacket he’d seen on the couch long gone.

Harlan had been getting ready for his gig tonight, so they hadn’t had much time to visit. But the spare room had been made up, so Tag had settled in. He hoped to spend some time with his father, though. Maybe tomorrow after he came back from Christmas tree hunting.