am,” she snapped. “Would it make you feel better if I were hysterical, crying and wringing my hands and begging you to tell me what to do?”
For a few moments there was only the crunch of the tires on the cold snow, the dog’s soft snores and the steady throb of the pickup’s engine.
Chance kept his mouth shut, knowing that anything he said would be wrong.
“Look,” Dixie finally said. “I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a few years now. Because of who my father is, I’ve always had to be careful. Most of the men I meet just want my father’s money. Even some women try to befriend me for the same reason. From the time I could walk I was told I had to watch out for kidnappers.” She cocked her head at him. “Is it any wonder I kidnapped myself to get what I wanted a few times when I was younger?”
He said nothing, unable to imagine her life. He’d come from middle-class parents, an adequate house but no pool. As a kid, he’d gotten a paper route to make extra money, then lawn-mowing jobs later. After high school, to help save for college, he’d gone to work in one of Beauregard Bonner’s oil fields for the summer. That was until he’d inadvertently caught the attention of Bonner himself, who’d hired him as security for his daughters even though Chance was only a few years older than Rebecca.
Bonner had liked him, noticed how hard he worked in the field, and come up with the job. Maybe Bonner had hoped all along that Chance would marry his oldest daughter. Or maybe that was the last thing he’d ever wanted.
“I told you why I was waiting for you at the museum.”
“Right. You were just making my life easier along with making it easier for the guys in the black car.”
“You really have become incredibly cynical and not very trusting.”
He laughed. “You’re a Bonner. And I haven’t forgotten what you were like as a kid.”
“Those were just childish pranks,” she said with a wave of her hand.
“Like kidnapping yourself.”
She looked away. “I’ll admit I’ve made a few mistakes in the past. But whether you believe it or not, I’ve changed.”
He nodded, not believing it. “Your father doesn’t believe you’ve changed.”
She glared over at him. “Since when have you started trusting my father? I thought you were smart enough that you would remember my father always has ulterior motives for everything he does.”
“He says he’s trying to protect you.”
She laughed. “And you believe that?”
He thought about Jamison, the duct tape in the back of the van.
“I can’t go back to Texas or they’ll kill me.”
“You already said that. But what I’d like to know is why you didn’t just come straight to my office instead of zigzagging your way across Montana.”
She gave him a how-ignorant-are-you look. “That would have been pretty stupid, don’t you think? Obviously someone knew where I was headed. My father, for instance. And how do you suppose someone knew to break into your office and steal the answering machine tape with my messages?”
He wished he knew.
“What is wrong with you?” she demanded angrily. “Don’t you see? My father had to get to you first. He had to make you distrust me. I’m sure he offered you some outrageous amount of money. He knew I’d come to you. He had to make sure you wouldn’t believe me when I told you why they want me dead. And he had to make sure you didn’t get my messages.”
“Are you trying to tell me your father is in on this? He’s the one who gave me the record of your credit card charges. Why would he do that if he didn’t want me to find you?”
“He wanted to make sure you didn’t believe anything I told you,” she said with a quirk of her brow. “Worked, didn’t it?”
Chance wanted to argue the point but knew she was right at least about his preconceived notions about her— and where he’d gotten most of them.
He watched her rub one of Beauregard’s big ears. The dog moaned softly and snuggled against her.
Don’t get used to that, Beauregard. Dixie Bonner is on her way back to Texas just as soon as I can get her butt on a plane.
Chapter Seven
Dixie looked up as Chance slowed the pickup. A building appeared from out of the snowy pines draped in red and green lights. Hot Springs Lodge. The log structure was set against a backdrop