Keeping Christmas Part 9

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 b.u.t.t 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 of rocky cliffs and snowcapped trees. It was as picturesque as anything she'd ever seen, even with the Santa Claus and sleigh with the silhouettes of reindeers out front.

"Is that where we're going?" After Chance moved to Montana, she'd read everything she could get her hands on about the state. This is exactly how she'd pictured a Montana mountain lodge.

She tensed as she heard a buzzing sound off to her right and looked in her side mirror to see a snowmobile racing along beside the pickup just a few yards off the road. Behind it was a half dozen more snowmobiles.

Chance parked in front of what appeared to be a full-fledged Montana resort complete with log hotel, storefront cafe, gift shop and hot springs.

"You approve?" he asked, sounding amused.

"I love it. They have food and a pool. pool."

He chuckled. "I forgot how much you liked to eat- and swim-as a kid. I guess some things don't change."

She met his gaze. He was smiling at her, the look in his eyes so familiar. Who knew what Chance had promised her father when Beauregard had hired him? But at that moment, Dixie weakened. She would have bet everything that she hadn't been wrong about Chance Walker, that he was still her hero, that ultimately he would save her.

She told herself it had nothing to do with the fact that he looked so darned good. Or that she'd missed him. She'd once thought that Chance would always be around. She'd been more devastated than Rebecca when Chance hadn't come back to Texas.

But was she willing to stake her life on him?

The driver of the lead snowmobile stopped in front of the lodge.

"I'll be right back," Chance said, apparently recognizing the man. "I'll get us a couple of rooms, some food and then we're going to have a talk."

Her stomach somersaulted. "Great. But what's the point if you aren't going to believe me?"

"You're going to convince convince me," he said with a grin, and opened his pickup door. me," he said with a grin, and opened his pickup door.

She watched him go over to the large man still straddling the snowmobile, the motor rumbling, the exhaust puffing out gray clouds into the cold late afternoon.

The other riders took off in a beehive of noise and activity. Dixie couldn't hear what was being said, but she saw Chance tell the man on the snowmobile something that made him glance in her direction. Then the man started up the snowmobile again and followed after the others.

Chance opened her side door. "We're all set."

She wondered what that meant. Dixie realized that neither of them had any luggage. She'd left what little she'd purchased in her car. She hadn't even thought to retrieve it, but then, she hadn't been thinking clearly for days now. And it wasn't as though Chance had given her much of an opportunity.

Her stomach growled.

Chance grinned, clearly hearing it.

She climbed out of the truck, the dog jumping out after her. Beauregard trotted along beside them as they entered the lodge, and Chance went behind the front desk to get a key.

Only one key?

Every daydream she'd ever had about Chance suddenly blossomed. She felt her face heat as her heart did a little Texas two-step. Around them Christmas music played softly. A white Christmas in Montana. It was more than she could have dreamed possible.

"There a problem?" he asked, cutting his eyes to her and grinning.

She really had to quit being so transparent.

"It's the family lodge unit," he explained. "Two bedrooms. One key. After all, someone is trying to kill you. I can't let that happen." bedrooms. One key. After all, someone is trying to kill you. I can't let that happen."

She made a face at him and looked around the lodge as she and the dog followed him up the stairs. The walls were log with a rich patina that had built up over the years. There was a huge stone fireplace, comfortable chairs and couches spread around it and a ma.s.sive stuffed moose head on the wall. The moose was wearing a red and white Santa hat.

She couldn't believe she was in Montana, in a place like this and with Chance Walker. Too bad that's where the fantasy part ended.

"This way," Chance said.

She nodded and followed him down a rustic hallway, still looking around, taking it all in. Hadn't she imagined Chance Walker in just such a place? Only she'd always thought of him as the cowboy in the white hat who lived by the Code of the West. Which meant he would be on her her side. Not her father's. side. Not her father's.

She'd truly believed he was the one person Beauregard Bonner couldn't manipulate. She realized now how naive that had been. Her father was the master manipulator. And what he couldn't manipulate he could afford to buy.

But then, she was pretty good at getting what she wanted, she reminded herself. After all, she'd learned from the best.

What would it take, though, to get Chance to believe her? she wondered as he unlocked their room and pushed open the door. The dog trotted in and Dixie followed.

The family lodge unit was s.p.a.cious, much like a two-bedroom apartment. The walls were knotty pine and everything was decorated with prints of cute bears and even cuter moose.

She walked through the place, noting the only other exit was the second-floor deck. Something told her he'd picked this room because there would be little way for her to escape without him knowing it.

"I think I'll take a hot shower," she said, and smiled at him.

He glanced into the bathroom and smiled at her. There was no window. No way out. "I'll order us something to eat."

Once in the bathroom, she turned on the shower and let it run as she thought about her options. Try to get Chance to believe her? Or plan how she'd get away when he didn't?

THE MOMENT Beau left his office, Oliver called Rebecca's cell phone number. He had to know what she'd told her father without letting her know he'd seen her last night and that he knew she'd been eavesdropping on his phone conversations.

Her cell rang four times and just when he was starting to worry, she picked up.

"Dixie?" she asked, sounding out of breath. She hadn't had time to check the caller ID apparently.

"No, it's me." Why was she out of breath?

"Oh. Oliver." She sounded so disappointed he was instantly angry.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, masking his anger. "You sound out of breath."

"Fine."

"You were hoping it was Dixie," he said.

"Yes."

He gritted his teeth. Last night, after she'd overheard him on the phone, he'd gone up to their bedroom. He'd heard her breathing, had said her name. She hadn't answered and he couldn't see her in the dark. She kept their bedroom so d.a.m.ned dark he'd become adept at getting around it without stumbling over anything. And she often used earplugs even though the room was soundproofed. She didn't even want to hear him breathing at night.

He'd known she wasn't asleep-just pretending as usual. And that had been fine with him.

"I spoke with your dad," he said now and waited.

No response.

"I know Dixie's in Montana and that you're worried about her," he said.

"Is that what he told you?"

Had it always been this hard to talk to her?

"He told me he hired Chance Walker to find her."

Silence. She wasn't taking the bait.

"What are you doing for dinner?" He hated that he was forced to resort to a romantic dinner and probably making love to her.

"I have plans."

It had been months since they'd dined together. The nanny always fed the children early unless Beau was coming over. He had the feeling that they both avoided sitting across a table from each other and that's why they often had separate plans.

"It was just a thought," he said, relieved. At least he'd made the effort. He'd make sure Beau knew that he'd tried and it had been Rebecca who had plans. plans.

"I might work late then," he said. "I have a ton of work to do."

Still nothing on her end. More than likely she knew it was a lie. Another reason he resented her.

Just like now. She was forcing him to fill the silence. "Have a nice evening then." He hung up, cutting off anything she might have said. Not wanting to know that all she'd done was hang up, as well.

He went to the bar and washed down antacids with alcohol, liking the way the alcohol burned all the way down. d.a.m.n the b.i.t.c.h. She was killing him.

WHILE DIXIE WAS IN the shower, Chance made the call to Bonner. "Dixie is with me," he said when the older man answered.

He heard relief and when Bonner spoke, he sounded choked up, making Chance feel guilty for questioning the oilman's motives. Maybe he really had just been worried about his daughter and believed he could keep her safe back in Texas.

That would explain why he was so insistent about getting her back there. Not to mention it was Christmas. Of course, he'd want her near him for the holidays. It wasn't as though Bonner had a reason he didn't want her in Montana.

"With the holiday, there won't be any flights out of here," Chance told him.

"I'll send my jet. Let me see when I can arrange it." Bonner put him on hold to check with his pilot.

The sooner the better, Chance thought, glancing toward the other room. He could hear the shower running, the bathroom door closed, and felt a strange stub of guilt. He'd purposely waited to call Bonner until Dixie was out of earshot.

Not that he hadn't been up-front about his plans. She knew he was working for her father. He was just doing what he'd been paid to do.

So why did he feel like h.e.l.l?

"The soonest, apparently, is the day after tomorrow about this time," Bonner said, coming back on the line. "You found her a lot quicker than I expected."

Chance swore under his breath. He'd hoped to be done with this a.s.signment tomorrow. Forty-eight hours? Still, he should be finished with it and at his cabin by Christmas Eve.

"Okay, I'll bring her to the airport, but if she doesn't want to go with you, I won't help you force her," Chance said.

"Is Dixie there? there?"

"Yes. If you want to talk to her..."

Chance started to tell Bonner that she was in the shower in the adjacent room, but before he could, the old man said, "No. I'm just glad she's all right."

"Have you gotten any more calls from the kidnapper?" Chance asked, a little surprised Bonner wasn't asking the kinds of questions a father might ask when there was even a possibility that his daughter had been kidnapped.

"No. No more calls. Obviously, it was just a prank."

Chance frowned. "You think Dixie sent her locket to you?"

"Has she said anything?"

Anything? "Like what?"

"I don't know," Bonner said. "Dixie's always had a very active imagination. Who knows what story she'll make up to sway your opinion of her?"

"Well, she didn't imagine all the men you hired to bring her back to Texas."

Bonner either didn't hear what Chance said or ignored it. "Dixie can be very persuasive. Believe me, she'll try to con you in some way before this is over."

"Yeah? And what exactly is this? this?"

"Just a little family disagreement," Bonner said.