Matchmaking with a Mission

Eve looked up, a forkful of pancakes on the way to her mouth. “No, I’m just hungry.”

“Right,” McKenna said. “Like the way you’ve suddenly started holding your fork with your left hand?”

Eve looked down at the fork, then at the engagement ring on her left hand and smiled. “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

McKenna nodded, smiling at her older sister across the table, the same table they’d shared since they were kids.

“I am doing the right thing, aren’t I, marrying Carter?” Eve asked with a groan as she pushed her plate away.

“You love Carter and he loves you,” McKenna said. “Be happy. And eat.”

“You’d tell me if you thought I was making a mistake?”

McKenna nodded, smiling. Carter Jackson had broken her sister’s heart back in high school when he’d married someone else. That marriage had been a disaster, ending in divorce. McKenna had no doubt that Carter loved her sister as much as Eve loved him. For months the poor man had been trying to win Eve back; finally at Christmas he’d asked her to marry him. The Fourth of July wedding was just weeks away now.

Eve pulled her plate back in front of her and picked up her fork. “I really am hungry.”

McKenna laughed and went back to studying the real-estate section of the Milk River Examiner. But none of the houses interested her. There was only one place she wanted, and even though she’d heard the owner had died recently, she didn’t see it listed. Maybe it was too soon.

“I’m serious,” Eve said between bites. “Just live in this house. With Mom and Loren living in Florida, it’s just going to be sitting empty.”

McKenna looked around the familiar kitchen. So many memories. “Dad doesn’t want the house?”

Eve shook her head. “He’s moved in with Susie, and they’re running her Hi-Line Café. He seems…happy.”

“Do you know if anyone has bought the old Harper place?” McKenna asked.

“You can’t be serious.” Eve was staring at her, her mouth open. “Harper House?”

“Did you leave me any pancakes?” their younger sister, Faith, asked as she padded into the room in a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt and plopped down at her chair. “What about Harper House?”

Eve shoved the platter of pancakes toward Faith without a word and gave McKenna a warning look.

“Is anyone going to answer me?” Faith asked as she picked up a pancake in her fingers, rolled it up and took a bite. She looked from Eve to McKenna and back. “Are you guys fighting?”

“No,” Eve said quickly. “I was just telling McKenna that she could have this house,” she said with a warning shake of her head at McKenna. There was a rule: no fighting, especially when Faith was around.

The youngest of the three girls, Faith had taken their parents’ divorce hard and their mother’s marriage to Loren Jackson even harder. Because of that, both Eve and McKenna had tried to shelter their younger sister. Which meant not upsetting her this morning with any problems between the two of them.

“It would be nice if someone lived here and took care of the place,” Eve said.

“Not me,” Faith said and helped herself to another pancake.

“It’s our family ranch,” Eve said.

“That’s why I want a place of my own close to here,” McKenna said.

Faith shot her a surprised look. “Are you really staying around here?” Since high school graduation she and Faith had come home only for holidays and summer vacation from college.

“I think I’m ready to settle down, and this area is home,” McKenna said.

Faith groaned. “Well, I’m not coming back here to live,” she said, getting up to pad over to the kitchen counter to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“I don’t want to see this house fall into neglect, either,” McKenna told Eve. “But I want my own place. This house is…”

“Mom’s and Dad’s,” Faith said as she came back to the table with her coffee, tears in her eyes. “And now, with Mom and Dad divorced and her married to Loren and living in Florida, it just feels too weird being here.”

McKenna knew that Eve had come over this morning from her house down the road to cook breakfast in an attempt to make things more normal for her and Faith. Especially Faith.

“Where are you and Carter going to live after you’re married?” McKenna asked Eve.

“My house.” Eve had moved into what used to be their grandmother’s house when Grandma Nina Mae Cross had gone into the rest home. “We’re going to run cattle on the ranch, as always. It’s what put us all through college. It’s our heritage.”

Faith shot McKenna a look that she knew only too well. Here goes Eve, off on one of her legacy speeches.

The ranch had always been intended for the three of them. Since Eve had returned she’d been running the place and sending both McKenna and Faith a share of the profits.

“So what happens to this house?” Faith asked, clearly trying to cut Eve off before she got started.

“I guess if the two of you don’t want it, the house will just sit empty,” Eve said, giving McKenna one of her meaningful big-sister looks.

“That’s awful,” Faith said. “Someone should live here.”

McKenna watched her little sister run a hand along the worn tabletop and smiled. She didn’t know what it was about this part of Montana, but it always seemed to bring them back. She’d watched friends leave for college, swearing they were glad to be leaving, only to return here to raise their children.

It was a simpler way of life. A community with strong values and people who knew and looked after their neighbors.

She, too, had left, convinced there was nothing here for her, but here she was. And, like Eve, McKenna figured the day would come when Faith would return and want the house, since she seemed to be the most attached to it.

“If you want your own house, you could build on the ranch,” Eve suggested. “There’s a nice spot to the east….” Her voice trailed off as if she realized she was wasting her breath. McKenna had already made up her mind.

“Did I hear you mention Harper House?” Faith asked as if finally coming full awake. “My friend who works for the county said it’s going to be auctioned off.”

“When?” McKenna asked.

“This Saturday, I think.”

McKenna couldn’t help her rush of excitement. This was obviously meant to be.

Faith laughed. “You always liked that place. I remember when you used to sneak over there even though Dad told us not to.” She grinned. “I used to follow you.”

“You used to ride over there?” Eve asked with a shake of her head. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

“We never believed that story about old wells on the place,” Faith said. “I think Dad didn’t want us around the people who lived there. They weren’t friendly at all. But they sure had a lot of kids.”

Eve shot a look at her youngest sister that McKenna recognized. It was Eve’s can-you-really-be-that-naive? look.

“Harper House was a place for troubled boys,” Eve said. “That’s why Dad didn’t want you riding over there. I can’t believe you did it anyway,” she said to McKenna. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

“Why didn’t Dad just tell us that?” Faith asked, frowning.

“Because he knew the two of you,” Eve said as she rose to take her plate to the sink. “You’d have gone over there just to see if the boys were really dangerous.”

“Well,” McKenna said with a sigh, “it’s just an old, empty house now that Ellis Harper has died. But there’s forty acres with a creek, trees, a barn and some outbuildings. It’s exactly what I’m looking for and it’s adjacent to our ranch land to the east.”

Eve shook her head, worry in her gaze. “I think you’re making a mistake, but I know how you are once you’ve made up your mind.”

“I’m just like you,” McKenna said with a grin.

Eve nodded. “That’s what worries me.”

Chapter Three

McKenna called her Realtor friend right after breakfast to find out what she knew about Harper House.

“You heard about the auction? Minimum bid is what is owed in back taxes, but I don’t expect it to go much higher than that given the condition of the house. It’s really a white elephant. Why don’t you let me show you some houses that don’t need so much work?”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it,” McKenna said with a laugh. It amazed her that April sold anything the way she always tried to discourage buyers. “If the price doesn’t go too high, I intend to buy it.”

She had worked all through college, saving the money her parents and Eve had sent her. She also had money from a savings account her grandma, Nina Mae Cross, had started for her when she was adopted into the family.

“With auctions, you just never know,” April said. “But I can’t imagine there would be that many people interested in the place. The property isn’t bad, though. The fences are in pretty good shape, and it does border your family ranch, so that is definitely a plus. The barn needs a new roof. But you might want to just tear down the house and build something smaller on the land.”

McKenna couldn’t imagine doing that. Something about that house had always interested her. She had just hung up when her cell phone rang.

“Have I got good news for you,” a female voice said.

She was about to hang up, thinking it was someone trying to sell her something, when she recognized the voice. “Arlene?”

“Who else?” Arlene Evans let out one of her braying laughs. She was a gangly, raw-boned ranch woman who’d had her share of problems over the last year or so, including her husband leaving her alone with two grown children still living at home and her oldest daughter in the state mental hospital.

McKenna had signed up for Arlene’s rural online dating service at a weak moment—following a wedding and some champagne. She now regretted it greatly.

It wasn’t a man she needed but the courage to do what she’d always wanted: start a horse ranch. She’d loved paint horses from the first time she’d seen one. Descended from horses introduced by the Spanish conquistadors, paints were part of the herds of wild horses that once roamed these very plains.

With paints becoming popular with cowboys for cattle work, McKenna believed she could make a good living raising them. If she could get the Harper property for the right price at the auction Saturday. It was all she could think about.

“I’ve found you just the man,” Arlene gushed. “He’s perfect for you. I hear wedding bells already.”

“Slow down,” McKenna said, wishing she’d read the small print to see how she could get out of this.

“He’s handsome, a hard worker, loves horses and long walks and…did I mention he’s handsome?” Arlene laughed again, making McKenna wince. “He’s going to be out of the cell phone service area until Saturday night, so he’ll meet you at Northern Lights restaurant at seven. You’re going to thank me for this.”

McKenna groaned inwardly. There was no backing out at this late date, especially since calling him sounded like it was out of the question. But suddenly she was more than a little afraid to find out who Arlene Evans thought was her perfect man.

She only half listened to Arlene rattle on about the man as she thought of the auction and her plans for the future: a man was the last thing on her mind.

It wasn’t until after she’d hung up that she realized she hadn’t caught her date’s name. Great. She thought about calling Arlene back but didn’t want to put herself through another twenty minutes of hearing about how perfect this guy was for her.

In a town the size of Whitehorse, spotting the man should be easy enough at the restaurant Saturday evening.

McKenna quickly forgot about her date. The house would be open for viewing before the auction, but she couldn’t wait. She had to take another look at the place, and this might be her only chance to spend a little time there alone.

ARLENE EVANS GLANCED away from her computer screen to see her daughter Charlotte sprawled on the couch.

Just moments before that Arlene had been feeling pretty good. Her Internet rural dating service had taken off. Several of the matches she’d made had led to the altar. She’d always known she had a knack for this, even if she’d failed miserably with her own children.

For years she’d tried to find someone for her oldest daughter, Violet—with no luck at all. A lot of that was Violet’s doing, she had to admit now. Violet was crazy—and dangerous—so no wonder no man had wanted to take that on.

Now Violet was locked up in a mental institution—hopefully never to be released, if Arlene had anything to do with it.

Bo, Arlene’s only son, had been engaged to Maddie Cavanaugh. The two had been all wrong for each other from the beginning. Unfortunately, since the breakup, though, Bo hadn’t shown any interest in finding himself a good woman to spend the rest of his life with. In fact, when Arlene had offered to line him up with one of her clients, he’d told her it would be over his dead body. It broke her heart, since Bo had always been her favorite.

And then there was Charlotte, the daughter that Arlene had thought would never have any trouble finding a husband.

Arlene scowled as she studied her youngest child—and Charlotte’s huge protruding belly. For months Arlene had been trying to find out who had fathered the baby now growing inside her daughter. The baby was due next month, and Arlene was no closer to discovering the name of the father than she’d been when she’d found out about the pregnancy.

Charlotte took perverse pleasure in keeping it a secret. If her daughter even knew, Arlene thought with a silent curse. Other mothers considered their children blessings. Arlene had come to see hers as a curse.

Not for the first time, Arlene saw a silver SUV drive past. She couldn’t see the driver, not with the glint of the June sun on the darkened side window, but she had the impression it was a woman behind the wheel.

Arlene frowned, trying to remember how many other times she’d seen the vehicle. Strange, since not much traffic ever came down this road. She put it out of her mind. She had a lot more important things to worry about.

When she turned back to her computer, she was surprised to see that she had a potential new client. She completely forgot about the silver SUV as she clicked on the man’s e-mail and felt a small thrill that had nothing to do with success or money.

Since my wife died, I find myself deeply needing the company of an interesting woman. I want someone who would like to travel the world with me. Someone who wants to share my final years.

Travel the world. What woman wouldn’t want to do that with an attractive older man? A man only a little older than Arlene herself.

She e-mailed Hank Monroe back, promising to find him the perfect woman and set up a time to meet.

BEHIND HARPER HOUSE, Nate Dempsey leaned on his shovel to rest for a moment and listened to the sound of the wind in the trees. A hot, dry wind that made his skin ache. The years must have distorted his memory. He’d been so sure he was digging in the right place.

But the land looked different than he remembered, and it had been a long time ago.

He began to dig again, turning over one shovelful of dirt after another, trying to gauge how deep the body would have been buried.

As he dug, he tried not to think about that hot summer night. Not the sounds he’d heard. Nor the fear he’d felt knowing he could be next. What he hadn’t known was who they were burying out back. He didn’t know that until the next morning. Until it was too late.

The heat bore down on him. He stopped digging for a moment to look up at the blue wind-scoured sky overhead and catch his breath. Standing there, it was impossible not to think of the past. Had a day gone by that he hadn’t remembered this place?

He’d spent years looking over his shoulder, knowing whose face he would see that instant before he felt the blade. But now he was no longer that skinny, scared boy. Nor was he a man willing to run from his past any longer. It would end here.

He began to dig again. Had it really been twenty-one years since he’d left this godforsaken place? Coming back here, it felt as if it had only been yesterday.

His shovel hit something that made the blade ring. He shuddered at the sound as he looked down, expecting to see bones. Just a rock. No body buried here.

He stopped again, this time the skin on the back of his neck prickling. As he had earlier, he felt someone was watching him. Carrying the shovel with him, he strode back to the house and stripped off his shirt to use it to wipe the sweat from his eyes.

For a moment he stood at the back door, surveying the land behind the house, the tall, old cottonwoods that followed the creek bed, the weather-beaten barn and outbuildings, the rolling grassy hillsides.

He couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean Roy Vaughn wasn’t there. He was the man Nate had to fear now, just as he had as a boy.

Stepping inside, he turned on the faucet at the old kitchen sink, letting the water run until it came up icy-cold, all the time watching out the window. He could almost convince himself he’d only imagined that someone was watching him.

Discarding his shirt, he scooped up handfuls of water, drinking them down greedily. Johnny’s remains were out there somewhere. With all his heart he wished it wasn’t true. That Johnny had run away, just as he’d been told. But he knew better. Johnny would have come back for him if he’d gotten away. Johnny wouldn’t have left him at Harper House. Not when Johnny had known how dangerous the place was for Nate.

As he turned off the faucet and wiped his wet hands on his jeans, he gazed out the back window again.

Ellis Harper hadn’t let anyone near the house in years. That meant no one else would have had a chance to dig up the body and hide it, right? He’d come as soon as he’d learned of Harper’s death. But had he come too late?

Bare-chested, he went back out and began to dig again in a different spot, the heat growing more intense. He dug down deep enough, turning over a final shovelful of dirt, and looked down into the hole seeing nothing but more earth.

This was the area where he’d thought they’d buried the body. He’d stake his life on it. Hell, he was staking his life on it.

There was just one problem.

The body was gone. If it had ever been here.

CRICKETS CHIRPED IN the tall grass as McKenna dismounted, loosely tied her horse and slipped between the logs of the jack fence.

The grass brushed her jeans, making a swishing sound as she moved through it toward the house. She listened for the sound of a rattlesnake, telling herself not only was she trespassing but her father could have been right about the dangers—including snakes.

A stiff breeze at the edge of the house banged a loose shutter and whipped her hair into her face. She stopped to look around for a moment, feeling as if she was being watched. But there was no vehicle parked in the drive. No sign that anyone had been here in a very long time.

She tried the screen door on the front porch first. The door groaned open. The wind caught it, jerked the handle from her fingers and slammed the door against the wall.

McKenna thought she heard an accompanying thud from inside the house, as if someone had bumped into something. She froze, imagining Ellis Harper coming out with a shotgun. But Ellis was dead. And she didn’t believe in ghosts, right? “Hello?”

No answer.

“Hello?” she called a little louder.

Another thud, this one deeper in the house. She stepped to the front door, knocked and, receiving no answer, cupped her hands to peer through the window next to the door.

The house was empty except for dust. That’s why the recent footprints caught her attention. The tracks were male-size boot soles. Someone from the county would have been out to check the house before the auction, she told herself.

The tracks led into the kitchen at the back. What she saw leaning by the back door made her reconsider going inside. A shovel, fresh dirt caked on it, stood against the wall. Next to it was a plaid shirt where someone had dropped it on the floor.

Her horse whinnied over at the fence. Another horse whinnied back, the sound coming from behind the house.

Someone was here.

Not someone from the county, who would have driven out and parked in front. Someone who’d come by horseback. Someone who didn’t want to be seen? Just like her?

Ellis Harper’s funeral had been earlier this week. Anyone who read the paper would know the house was empty.

But why would that person be digging?

She retreated as quietly as possible across the porch and down the steps. As she angled back toward where she’d left her horse, she glanced behind the house.

There appeared to be several areas on the hillside where the earth had been freshly turned. She hadn’t noticed it earlier; all her attention had been on the house. As she reached the fence and quickly slipped through, her horse whinnied again. The mare’s whinny was answered, drawing McKenna’s gaze to the hillside beyond the barn in time to see a rider on a gray Appaloosa horse.

From this distance she could see that the rider was a man. He was shirtless, no doubt because he’d left his plaid shirt in the house where he’d discarded it along with the shovel.

She caught only a glimpse of him, his head covered by a Western straw hat, as he topped the hill and disappeared as if in a hurry to get away.

She wondered who he was. Obviously someone who wasn’t supposed to be here—just like herself. She hadn’t gotten a good enough look at him and knew she wouldn’t be able to recognize him if she saw him again, but she would his horse. It was a spotted Appaloosa, the ugliest coloring she’d ever seen—and that was saying a lot.

As she swung up into her saddle, she couldn’t help but wonder what the man had been digging for—and if he’d found it.

ARLENE CALLED HANK Monroe to confirm their appointment to sign him up for her rural dating service before she headed into Whitehorse. The first thing that had struck her was his voice. It was deep and soft and sent a small thrill through her. Had any man’s voice ever done that before? Not that she could remember—but then, she was no spring chicken anymore.

She knew she was setting herself up for disappointment. The man couldn’t be as good as he sounded either in his e-mail or on the phone.

“I’m looking forward to meeting you,” he’d said. “I have to confess, I’ve never done anything like this before. You know, dating online. The way my generation did it was gazes across a crowded room. I’m a little nervous.”

She’d assured him there was nothing to it.

But Arlene was nervous herself when she reached the Hi-Line Café where they’d agreed to meet.

The moment she walked in and spotted Hank Monroe sitting at one of the booths her heart began to pound wildly. Never in her life had she experienced such a reaction.

She’d been pregnant with Violet when she married Floyd Evans. It had been the result of a one-night stand. She’d said she was on the Pill so he wouldn’t take her right home. Floyd had been good-looking and popular, and she’d thought she could fall in love with him—and him with her if he’d give her a chance.

She’d also erroneously thought that she wouldn’t get pregnant.

She’d been wrong on all counts.

But when she’d discovered she was pregnant, Floyd had seemed as good a bet as anyone. He had a farm down in Old Town Whitehorse and, while reluctant, he had agreed at the urging of his parents to stand up and accept his responsibilities.

She’d known she was no looker. It was one reason she’d learned to cook at an early age. She’d realized she needed more to offer than other girls. She’d thought her cooking and cleaning would make Floyd fall in love with her. She’d still dreamed of the happily-ever-after romance she hadn’t found with Floyd or any other boy.