LITMIR.BIZ

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And again, sorry about Fiona.”

      As he left the bar, he thought about Mary and the letter he’d hidden in his sock drawer with her phone number. He’d thought about calling her to let her know he was headed home. He was also curious about the package she’d said a friend of his mother had left for him.

      Since getting the letter, he’d thought about calling dozens of times. But what he had to say, he couldn’t in a phone call. He had to see Mary. Now that he was leaving, he couldn’t wait to hit the road.

      * * *

      MARY CARDWELL SAVAGE reined in her horse to look out at the canyon below her. The Gallatin River wound through rugged cliffs and stands of pines, the water running clear over the colored rocks as pale green aspen leaves winked from the shore. Beyond the river and the trees, she could make out the resort town that had sprouted up across the canyon. She breathed in the cool air rich with the scent of pine and the crisp cool air rising off the water.

      Big Sky, Montana, had changed so much in her lifetime and even more in her mother’s. Dana Cardwell Savage had seen the real changes after the ski resort had been built at the foot of Lone Peak. Big Sky had gone from a ranching community to a resort area, and finally to a town with a whole lot of housing developments and businesses rising to the community’s growing needs.

      The growth had meant more work for her father, Marshal Hud Savage. He’d been threatening to retire since he said he no longer recognized the canyon community anymore. More deputies had to be hired each year because the area was experiencing more crime.

      Just the thought of the newest deputy who’d been hired made her smile a little. Dillon Ramsey was the kind of man a woman noticed—even one who had given her heart away when she was fifteen and had never gotten it back.

      Dillon, with his dark wavy hair and midnight black eyes, had asked her out, and she’d said she’d think about it. If her best friend Kara had been around, she would have thought Mary had lost her mind. Anyone who saw Dillon knew two things about him. He was a hunk, and he was dangerous to the local female population.

      Since telling him she’d think about it, she had been mentally kicking herself. Had she really been sitting around waiting to hear from Chase? What was wrong with her? It had been weeks. When she’d broken it off and sent him packing, she hadn’t been sitting around moping over him. Not really. She’d been busy starting a career, making a life for herself. So what had made her write that stupid letter?

      Wasn’t it obvious that if he’d gotten her letter, he should have called by now? Since the letter hadn’t come back, she had to assume that it had arrived just fine. The fact that he hadn’t called or written her back meant that he wasn’t interested. He also must not be interested in the package his mother’s friend had left for him either. It was high time to forget about that cowboy, and why not do it with Dillon Ramsey?

      Because she couldn’t quit thinking about Chase and hadn’t been able to since she’d first laid eyes on him when they were both fifteen. They’d been inseparable all through high school and college. Four years ago he’d told her he was going to have to leave. They’d both been twenty-four, too young to settle down, according to her father and Chase had agreed. He needed to go find himself since not knowing who his father was still haunted him.

      It had broken her heart when he’d left her—and Montana. She’d dated little after he left town. Mostly because she’d found herself comparing the men she had dated to Chase. At least with Dillon, she sensed a wild, dangerousness in him that appealed to her right now.

      Her father hadn’t liked hearing that Dillon had asked her out. “I wish you’d reconsider,” he’d said when she’d stopped by Cardwell Ranch where she’d grown up. She’d bought her own place in Meadow Village closer to the center of town, and made the first floor into her office. On the third floor was her apartment where she lived. The second floor had been made into one-bedroom apartments that she rented.

      But she still spent a lot of time on the ranch because that’s where her heart was—her family, her horses and her love for the land. She hadn’t even gone far away to college—just forty miles to Montana State University in Bozeman. She couldn’t be far from Cardwell Ranch and couldn’t imagine that she ever would. She was her mother’s daughter, she thought. Cardwell Ranch was her legacy.

      Dana Cardwell had fought for this ranch years ago when her brothers and sister had wanted to sell it and split the money after their mother died. Dana couldn’t bear to part with the family ranch. Fortunately, her grandmother, Mary Cardwell, had left Dana the ranch in her last will, knowing Dana would keep the place in the family always.

      Ranching had been in her grandmother’s blood, the woman Mary had been named after. Just as it was in Dana’s and now Mary’s. Chase hadn’t understood why she couldn’t walk away from this legacy that the women in her family had fought so hard for.

      But while her mother was a hands-on ranch woman, Mary liked working behind the scenes. She’d taken over the accounting part of running the ranch so her mother could enjoy what she loved—being on the back of a horse.

      “What is wrong with Dillon Ramsey?” Dana Cardwell Savage had asked her husband after Mary had told them that the deputy had asked her out.

      “He’s new and, if you must know, there’s something troublesome about him that I haven’t been able to put my finger on yet,” Hud had said.

      Mary had laughed. She knew exactly what bothered her father about Dillon—the same thing that attracted her to the young cocky deputy. If she couldn’t have Chase, then why not take a walk on the wild side for once?

      She had just finished unsaddling her horse and was headed for the main house when her cell phone rang, startling her. Her pulse jumped. She dug the phone out and looked at the screen, her heart in her throat. It was a long-distance number and not one she recognized. Chase?

      Sure took him long enough to finally call, she thought, and instantly found herself making excuses for him. Maybe he was working away from cell phone coverage. It happened all the time in Montana. Why not in Arizona? Or maybe her letter had to chase him down, and he’d just now gotten it and called the moment he read it.

      It rang a second time. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. Silly goose, she thought. It’s probably not Chase at all but some telemarketer calling to try to sell her something.

      She answered on the third ring. “Hello?” Her voice cracked.

      Silence, then a female voice. “Mary Cardwell Savage?” The voice was hard and crisp like a fall apple, the words bitten off.

      “Yes?” she asked, disappointed. She’d gotten her hopes up that it was Chase, with whatever excuse he had for not calling sooner. It wouldn’t matter as long as he’d called to say that he felt the same way she did and always had. But she’d been right. It was just some telemarketer. “I’m sorry, but whatever you’re selling, I’m not inter—”

      “I read your letter you sent Chase.”

      Her breath caught as her heart missed a beat. She told herself that she’d heard wrong. “I beg your pardon?”

      “Leave my fiancé alone. Don’t write him. Don’t call him. Just leave him the hell alone.”

      She tried to swallow around the bitter taste in her mouth. “Who is this?” Her voice sounded breathy with fear.

      “The woman who’s going to marry Chase Steele. If you ever contact him again—”

      Mary disconnected, her fingers trembling as she dropped the phone into her jacket pocket as if it had scorched her skin. The woman’s harsh low voice was still in her ears, furious and threatening. Whoever she was, she’d read the letter. No wonder Chase hadn’t written or called. But why hadn’t he? Had he shown the letter to his fiancée? Torn it up? Kept it so she found it? Did it matter? His fiancée had read the letter and was furious, and Mary couldn’t blame her.

      She buried her face in her hands. Chase

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