From the Shadows (Buckhorn, Montana #2) - B.J. Daniels Page 0,114
back in her rearview mirror. Buckhorn, Montana, dissolved into the horizon. Finn turned on the radio, cranking up the music, and she pointed the car toward the ocean, leaving the shadows behind.
EPILOGUE
CASEY ALMOST DIDN’T hear the text ping on her phone over the roar of the ocean waves. She pulled out her cell to see that Bessie Walker had sent her a photograph of the new city park at the edge of Buckhorn.
Smiling, Casey showed Finn. It was as if the Crenshaw had never existed. All that could be seen were grass, mountains and pine trees, sparkling green against Montana’s big, open sky. She texted a thank-you and pocketed her phone, thinking her grandmother would be pleased.
The Pacific Ocean lapped at her bare feet as she turned to look out at the sinking sun balanced on the water. Finn came up behind, drawing her back against him as his big hands covered her protruding belly and the baby they’d made growing inside her.
“I wish Anna had lived to see this,” Casey said as she placed her hands over Finn’s. “Sometimes, I swear I can feel her smiling down on us. She always did love a happy ending—especially if she had something to do with it.”
“Funny, but I’ve been thinking about her lately as well,” he said and turned her in his arms to look into her eyes before he kissed her. “I love you, Mrs. James.”
She smiled, thankful that they were no longer looking over their shoulders into the past. Their eyes were wide-open with wonder and looking ahead with excitement.
Finn kissed her again and put his arm around her shoulders. They wandered down the beach toward the beach house he’d given her for a wedding present. Today they would finish the baby’s room in a pale yellow, since they’d opted to wait and be surprised. But Casey had dreamed that she was having a little girl whom they would name after her grandmother. Probably more of Anna’s doing, Casey thought with a smile.
Snuggling against Finn, she couldn’t see the future, but she could feel it spreading out before them. As she glanced toward the blue sky overhead, she thought of Montana and her grandmother.
As she did, she wondered if she would ever see Buckhorn again. She could almost hear her grandmother’s words. “Have faith. Everything will turn out just as it is supposed to.”
* * *
Look for the next title in New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels’s Buckhorn, Montana series. Read on for a sneak peek where new characters are At the Crossroads.
At the Crossroads
by B.J. Daniels
BOBBY BRADEN WIPED the blood off his fingers, noticing that he’d smeared some on the steering wheel. He pulled his shirtsleeve down and cleaned the streak of red away, the van swerving as he did.
“Hey, watch it!” In the passenger seat, Gene Drummond checked his side mirror. “All we need is for a cop to pull us over,” he said in his deep, gravelly voice. It had reminded Bobby of the sound a chain saw made. “If one of them sees you driving crazy—”
“I got it,” Bobby snapped. “Go back to sleep,” he said under his breath as he checked the rearview mirror. The black line of highway behind them was as empty as the highway in front of them. There was no one out here in the middle of Montana on a Sunday this early in the morning—especially this time of year with Christmas only weeks away. He really doubted there would be a cop or highway patrol. But he wasn’t about to argue. He knew where that would get him.
He stared ahead at the narrow strip of blacktop, wondering why Gene had been so insistent on them coming this way. Shouldn’t they try to cross into Canada? If Gene had a plan, he hadn’t shared it. Same with the bank job. No one had expected it to go sideways the way it had—especially Gene, from what Bobby could tell.
Concentrating on staying between the lines, he took a breath and let it out slowly. He could smell the blood and the sweat and the sweet scent of a dryer sheet that rose from his shirt, which he’d stolen off a clothesline somewhere in Wyoming. The shirt was too big, but he’d liked the color. Blue like his eyes. It bothered him that he’d gotten blood on the sleeve. The smear kept catching his eye, distracting him.
At a sound behind him, he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Vic’s anxious face. “How’s Gus?” Bobby asked, keeping his voice down. He could hear Gene snoring, but not his usual foghorn sound. Which meant he wasn’t completely out yet. Or he could be faking it.
“Not good.” Vic moved closer, putting one big hand on Bobby’s seat as he leaned forward and dropped his voice. “He’s not going to make it.”
Bobby met his gaze in the rearview mirror for a moment, a silent agreement passing between them. They both knew what would happen if Gene’s younger brother died.
“We aren’t leaving Gus behind,” Gene said without opening his eyes. “He’ll pull through. He’s strong.” He opened his eyes and looked around. “Where the hell are we?”
“According to the last sign I saw, just outside Buckhorn, Montana,” Bobby said.
“Good. There’s a café in town. Go there,” Gene said, making Bobby realize that had been the man’s plan all along. “We’ll get food and medical supplies for Gus and dump this van for a different ride.” He pulled the pistol from beneath his belt and checked to see how many shots he had left before tucking it in again under the jean jacket he’d gotten off the clothesline.
Bobby met Vic’s gaze again in the mirror. This could get a lot worse.
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