B.J. Daniels - Honor Bound

“More wild than what?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“Skinny-dipping.”

She groaned and, sliding back down in the bed, covered her head with the sheet. “Please tell me I was alone,” she said in a tremulous voice from under the sheet. “The rest of the movie crew—”

“Weren’t there. It was just the two of us.” He pulled the sheet down until their eyes met and gave her a big smile. Had she noticed last night how handsome he was? Is that why she’d decided to go skinny-dipping with a complete stranger? Well, nearly a complete stranger.

“You were the only one naked,” he said, as if trying to reassure her. “Actually, you were the only one who went in the water, except for when I had to wade in to fish you out.”

She didn’t think she could feel worse. “I might have had too much to drink.”

“You think?”

“I don’t drink but a glass of wine occasionally. Normally.”

“So I gathered.”

Ainsley realized she didn’t remember any of this. Memory loss ran in her family, she mused, thinking of her mother’s return from the dead and complete lack of memory of those missing twenty-two years. The stray thought might have made her laugh if she hadn’t felt so awful.

“I don’t remember...anything,” she admitted.

“Don’t worry. Nothing happened, other than you sobering up from the icy water enough that I could get you back to your cabin and to bed. Alone. I slept on the couch.”

She glanced over and saw his black Stetson and his jean jacket on the couch.

“Now, drink this.” He handed her the glass he’d been holding. As she peered suspiciously at the ugly thick brown sludge, he said, “Trust me. That is going to make you feel much better.”

“It looks...awful.”

“It’s my own remedy for a hangover.”

“I’ve never had a hangover before.”

He laughed. “Apparently Kitzie was making your drinks? You might make your own in the future.”

She was still staring at the glass of thick brown stuff.

“Best to chug it.” He stood. “I don’t know about you, but I have to get to work. I have to go before everyone in camp sees me leaving your cabin.”

Ainsley felt her eyes widen in alarm.

“Don’t worry. It’s still early. Your reputation is safe.”

She groaned. “I don’t understand what happened last night, but it won’t happen again.”

“That’s too bad. You were trying out the new Ainsley Hamilton. She was up for anything. I kind of liked her.”

“I’ll just bet you did.” She tried to summon what dignity she could. “Well, I won’t be needing your...assistance again because of intoxication.”

“That’s too bad, too.” He gave her a wink before he stepped to the couch. She sat up to watch him pull on his boots, hat and jacket.

“We won’t be seeing that Ainsley Hamilton again,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Back to the old, boring Ainsley Hamilton.”

“Just between you and me, there is nothing wrong with the old Ainsley Hamilton either.” With that, he left.

She took a whiff of the drink and her stomach roiled. Holding her nose with her free hand, she chugged the thick liquid and gagged. What had the man given her? She thought for a moment that she was going to be sick. But then her stomach began to settle down. After a few minutes, she felt better.

By the time she came out of the shower and dressed, she had faith she could do what had to be done today without going back to bed—or worse, curling up and dying.

Her cell phone rang. Checking it, she saw that it was her mother calling. It still gave her an odd feeling when she saw the name Sarah Hamilton come up on the screen—after believing her mother dead for twenty-two years. Almost two years ago now, her mother had returned out of the blue with no memory of where she’d been. Her mother’s last memory was giving birth to the twins, Cassidy and Harper, both now almost twenty-five.

Ainsley was surprised that Sarah was calling and instantly worried. Her mother never called. Then again, Ainsley hadn’t really reached out to her mother. She felt a stab of guilt. She certainly hadn’t tried to make her mother’s transition back into their lives any easier.

If anyone should be reaching out to her mother, it was Ainsley since she was the oldest of Sarah’s six daughters and one of the few who actually remembered her. She’d been twelve when her mother had supposedly died after crashing her car into the Yellowstone River in the middle of winter. Her body was never recovered, something not that unusual in the wilds of Montana.

“Mother? Is something wrong?” she said into the phone.

“No, that is, I’m just checking to make sure you’ll be home before election night. Your father wants us all together.”

“I only have a few more days here, and then I was planning to come to the ranch.”

“Good,” her mother said.

The conversation stalled as it always did. Ainsley never knew what to say. She glanced at her watch. She really needed to go. “I heard you moved back into the house after you and Dad got married again.” They’d had an impromptu wedding by going to the justice of the peace.

While Bo, Olivia and the twins, Harper and Cassidy, had been upset that their parents hadn’t waited and had a “real” wedding with all six daughters in attendance, Ainsley was glad they’d been spared the event. She knew Kat felt the same way.

“Yes. I forgot how beautiful it is here on the ranch,” her mother was saying. “The view from the main house is wonderful.”

Her mother had returned from the dead to find her former husband had remarried, and a woman named Angelina Broadwater Hamilton wasn’t just living in her house, but sleeping in her bed.

For a while the media had played up the love triangle between the three. Ainsley had seen how conflicted her father had been during that time. He’d loved Sarah, had six daughters with her and had grieved years before remarrying.

Then Angelina had been killed in a car wreck, leaving the door open for Sarah and Buck to get back together. Because he was running for president, it had taken them some time, but they’d finally tied the knot again. Ainsley knew her father was hoping their remarriage would bring his family together once more.

“Well,” her mother said into the long silence. “I look forward to seeing you when you get home. Your sister Olivia thinks we should have a family celebration. Your father and I got married so quickly...”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” she said, rolling her eyes. It sounded...awkward. But maybe they would all accept their mother, and things would turn out just fine. “I would love to help with the...celebration,” she heard the old Ainsley say politely. “I’m sure my other sisters would, as well.” Probably not Kat, but she didn’t say that. Kat refused to call their mother anything but Sarah. Who knew what her problem was? Ainsley hadn’t been home enough to find out.

“It would make your father so happy.” But Ainsley could hear a note of happiness in her mother’s voice, too. Maybe it was possible to put this family back together again—before both of her parents headed off to Washington, DC. According to the polls, Republican hopeful Buckmaster Hamilton was going to win by a landslide.

Landslide. She shuddered at the memory of yesterday and how close she’d come to dying. Sawyer Nash had saved her then—and again last night. She thought about the cowboy and found herself smiling. So Sawyer Nash was partial to the new Ainsley Hamilton, was he?

A part of her still wanted to cut loose and have more fun. She was sick of being the good daughter, the good sister, the good girl. Wasn’t it time? But maybe she wouldn’t be quite as carefree as she’d apparently been last night.