Keeping Christmas Part 8

Or to drag her back to Houston?

Something had Dixie Bonner on the run.

What were the chances it was because of something she'd done?

"HAVE A MINUTE?" It wasn't really a question as Beau closed the office door and motioned for Oliver to sit back down. Beau went straight to the bar. He made sure that even Oliver's office was stocked with his own favorite Scotch.

But to Oliver's surprise, his father-in-law poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe left by the secretary.

Fortunately, Beau seldom came to the office and didn't seem to have any interest in the way Oliver spent his days as long as there were no problems with what little Beau let him handle. Or on the home front.

He motioned that he didn't want any coffee or a drink but Beau apparently had poured him a drink anyway. h.e.l.l, was he going to need one? Had Rebecca found out about the children's college funds? Or the other things Oliver had to mortgage?

"What's up?" Oliver asked, still standing.

"Dixie's taken off," Beau said as if this were news. He handed Oliver his usual vodka tonic and, with the coffee in hand, dropped into the deep leather chair across from Oliver's desk. Another addition Beau had made to the office for his rare visits.

"What do you mean 'taken off'?" Oliver asked as he lowered himself back into his chair, pretending this was news. And hoping it had nothing to do with him.

Beau looked him in the eye and for a moment Oliver felt as if the man was two steps ahead of him-maybe even more. "Rebecca didn't tell you?"

"I haven't spoken with her today," Oliver said. True, but an obvious mistake to tell the father-in-law just how little contact he had with the man's daughter. "We've been playing telephone tag all day."

Beau sent him a look that was equal parts disgust and disbelief. He didn't have to tell Oliver that he'd better keep Rebecca happy. But, of course, Beau did.

"I just saw my daughter having lunch with a friend. She didn't seem happy. There's no problem with you and my daughter, is there?" he asked, his tone making it clear that if there was, then it was Oliver's fault.

"No. Why would you think it had something to do with me?" Oliver had the bad feeling that his father-in-law knew more about Rebecca's state of mind than her own husband did. Had Rebecca said something to her father? Had she told him about the conversation she'd overhead last night on the phone?

He felt himself begin to sweat as Beau didn't answer the question-instead just studied him thoughtfully before taking a sip of his coffee.

"You said Dixie has taken off?" Anything to get the conversation off him and Rebecca. Even talking about his least least favorite subject, Dixie. favorite subject, Dixie.

Beau sighed and took a sip of his coffee. Oliver tried to remember the last time he'd seen his father-in-law drink coffee instead of Scotch this time of the day and couldn't.

"Did Dixie say anything to you?" Beau asked, settling his gaze on Oliver.

"No," he said, unable to hide his surprise. He spoke with Dixie even less than he did with his own wife. "Why would she tell me me anything?" anything?"

"You are are her brother-in-law, or don't you see her, either?" her brother-in-law, or don't you see her, either?"

Oliver didn't like the edge to Beau's voice. He plunged in, figuring it might be easier if they just got it out of the way right now. "Is there something I've done to upset you, Beau?"

The older man seemed to give that some thought. "I'm just worried about my daughters." His expression didn't change though. Oliver told himself he'd better watch his step. Something more had set Beau off and since he and Beau had never been close and now Chance Walker was in the picture...

He tried to a.s.sure himself this was just about Dixie. Beau's youngest had kept him upset more often than not over the years. What had she done this time? Oliver wondered.

"I've hired someone to find Dixie," Beau was saying. "Once she's back in Texas..." Beau rose awkwardly from the chair and Oliver realized with satisfaction that the oilman was getting old. Beau looked embarra.s.sed to be seen at all feeble in front of him. "If you hear from Dixie..." He seemed to realize how unlikely that would be.

Like Oliver, he must have been wondering why he'd come in here to begin with. Or maybe he'd just been testing him, waiting for his son-in-law to hang himself. But then, Oliver had been feeling more than a little paranoid lately.

"I'll let you know if I hear anything," Oliver lied.

Right now, his only thought was Rebecca. Had she gone to her father about him? Her timing couldn't be any worse with him under so much strain. This deal had to go through and in a hurry. His life depended on it.

IN HIS REARVIEW mirror, Chance watched the tractor get smaller and smaller until they went around a bend and it disappeared. No sign of the SUV.

He looked over at Dixie, not surprised to see one arm around Beauregard's neck, the other hanging on to the door handle. Her face was still pale and for the first time, she looked scared.

"Is it my driving?" he joked.

She glanced over at him as if her mind had been a thousand miles away. "It's fine."

"Fine?" He snorted. "That was an amazing example of my driving ability and you say it was fine? fine?"

He finally had her attention.

She smiled. She had a gorgeous smile. "I'd forgotten how full of yourself you are."

He smiled back at her, worried as h.e.l.l. Based on the number of people after her, Dixie Bonner was in a world of trouble.

The problem was that while she'd said she'd come all the way to Montana because he was the only person she could trust, she no longer trusted him. So getting her to tell him what was going on could pose a problem.

Well, all that was about to change, Chance told himself as he saw a sign for a mountain lodge just ahead. He didn't slow down until he reached the turnoff and pulled off onto the snow-packed gravel road.

Still no sign of the SUV.

But he had a bad feeling it wasn't the last they'd see of the people after Dixie Bonner.

And soon he would know why.

Dixie glanced back, more relieved than Chance could know that he'd lost the SUV. She watched him s.h.i.+ft the pickup into four-wheel drive as he headed up the snowy road, wondering where he was taking her.

It hadn't slipped her mind that Chance was working for her father. Who knew what kind of deal they'd made?

Just the thought made her sick to her stomach. She'd thought Chance was the one person who couldn't be bought by her father. If she'd been wrong about Chance, then what hope was there?

"Where are we going?" she asked, worried. Ahead, all she could see was a mountain, the road disappearing into the snowcapped pines and what appeared to be a wide expanse of roofline.

"Somewhere safe," was all he said as he drove up the winding road, but she could feel his gaze on her every few minutes, as if he had a lot of questions.

She was sure he did.

She had a lot herself. She'd been so sure that once she had found him, all she had to do was to pour her heart out to him and he would be there for her.

Now she wasn't sure what to do next. Trusting Chance could be her worse-and last-mistake. So far he hadn't believed anything she'd told him.

She hated to even think what he would say when she told him the rest.

"I'm going to help you," he said quietly, as if sensing her wrestling with the problem.

She could only nod. Whatever he had planned for her, she would figure out a way to keep one step ahead of him. Hadn't she gotten this far all by herself? She didn't kid herself that a lot of it had been luck. Her would-be killers hadn't expected her to go to Montana.

No, she decided. Trusting Chance now would be a mistake. Better to keep her options open and try to get away from him the first opportunity that presented itself.

"Montana is so beautiful," she said, trying to hide the affect her decision had on her. She turned to look out the side window, secretly brus.h.i.+ng away her tears. She'd been such a fool. All these years of comparing every man she met with Chance. He had been her hero. The man of her dreams.

"Well, you've apparently seen a lot of the state, I'll give you that," Chance said.

She turned to look at him, almost as angry with him as she was disappointed in him. "I wondered why you stayed here. I guess you weren't just hiding out from my father and Rebecca."

"I'm not the one who has the whole state of Texas after her."

She ignored that and saw him check his rearview mirror. "Did my father tell you about his heart attack?"

"Is this just chitchat or are you leading up to something?" he asked, cutting his eyes to her. "Like maybe the truth about what's really going on."

The truth? She had to smile. Even if he hadn't been hired by her father, there was another reason she was reluctant to tell him. There wasn't a chance in h.e.l.l that he was going to believe her.

"I just thought you'd want to know the score. The doctor said the heart attack was minor but that he had to slow down," she continued. "Unfortunately he's too controlling to turn over the reins, not even to Mason. Forget Uncle Carl, he wants nothing to do with running an empire, and Ace would steal every dime. I think Daddy isn't so naive he doesn't know that. Nor would he ever give Oliver control. Oliver is Rebecca's husband." She glanced over at him. "Daddy can't stand him. Uncle Carl says if Daddy keeps giving Oliver enough rope, he'll hang himself and Rebecca will be the best-dressed widow at the funeral."

"I see you're still getting along well with your family," he said.

"You have no idea."

Chance could feel her gaze on him but he kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut. She was just trying to get a rise out of him. And d.a.m.ned if it wasn't working.

"I guess Daddy Daddy didn't tell you that he's also getting into politics?" she said. didn't tell you that he's also getting into politics?" she said.

He noticed the contemptuous way she said "Daddy." He wondered if she was making fun of her father and her relations.h.i.+p with him. Or if this was about Rebecca since, as he recalled now, she'd always called Beau "Daddy."

Either way, it made him all the more convinced that this drama was just some power struggle between Dixie and her daddy. daddy. And it made him mad as h.e.l.l that he'd gotten involved. Especially for And it made him mad as h.e.l.l that he'd gotten involved. Especially for money. money.

"Beauregard and I didn't do a lot of talking," Chance said after a few moments, curious, though, where she was headed with all this. She'd seemed vulnerable a few moments ago and he'd made the mistake of being nice to her. She didn't react well to sympathy.

"I'm not surprised he's going into politics, though," Chance admitted. Money and politics seemed to go together and Beauregard Bonner had his fingers in anything that would benefit him. Given his money and his need for power, it had been just a matter of time before he got into politics. "But if your father is so powerful in Texas, then why didn't you let him help you out of whatever mess you're in?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Dixie said, looking away. "After all, you still don't believe that someone is trying to kill me."

"Now why wouldn't I believe you? Let's see. One, you haven't given me one reason why anyone would want you dead. Two, you don't seem to have been kidnapped, but someone is trying to get a million and a half out of your rich old man-and they just happened to have your locket. Three, your father doesn't want to go to the feds or the police any more than you do. Four, he's hired not one, but a bunch of guys just to haul you back to Texas as if he has some reason to believe it might be difficult and a necessity. Five, you seem pretty d.a.m.n relaxed for someone who supposedly has killers after her."

"You have no idea how scared I 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 c.o.c.ked 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-cla.s.s 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. Bonner. And I haven't forgotten what you were like as a kid." 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 always has ulterior motives for everything he does." 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 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." 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?"