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“I’m innocent, you bastard,” she’d screamed the last time he’d taken her call. “You did this. You framed me for this. Once I tell the sheriff—”
He’d laughed. “Like anyone will believe you.”
“I’ll take you down with me!”
He’d hung up and the next time his phone had rung it had been Vance Elliot.
Waters slowed to turn into the lane that led up to the main house. He shot the man next to him a glance. Vance looked more like a teenager than a twenty-five-year-old.
The man who might be Oakley stared at the house, a little openmouthed. Waters remembered the first time he’d driven out here and seen it. The house was impressive. So were the miles of white wooden fence, the expensive quarter horses in the pasture and the section after section of land that ran to the Little Rockies.
He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to learn that he was part of this even at his age—let alone twenty-five. If Vance Elliot really was the long-ago kidnapped McGraw twin, then he was one lucky son of a gun.
“You all right?” he asked Vance as they drove toward the house.
The man nodded. Waters tried to read him. He had to be scared to face Travers McGraw, not to mention his three older sons. But he didn’t look it. He looked determined.
Waters felt his stomach roil. This had better be real. If this wasn’t Oakley McGraw he was bringing to Travers...
He didn’t want to think about how badly this could go for him.
Chapter Three (#u97bb23ed-0d66-5bcc-ae54-a1d606b40d60)
Sheriff McCall Crawford happened to be standing at the window as Huck and Wade Pierce had come into work. Wade looked wrung out. She’d heard that his wife was in the hospital with a concussion after falling off a ladder.
McCall watched the two men. She’d inherited Huck when she’d become sheriff. Before that, she’d worked with him as a deputy. He’d made it clear that he thought a woman’s place was in the home and not carrying a badge and gun. Huck hadn’t been any more impressed when he’d been passed over and she’d become sheriff.
He was a good old boy, the kind who smiled in your face and stabbed you in the back the first chance he got. She didn’t trust him, but she couldn’t fire him without cause. So far, he’d done nothing to warrant it, but she kept her eye on him—and his son, Wade. The minute she caught him stepping over the line, he was gone. As for his son... She’d had hopes for him when he’d hired on, seeing something in him that could go a different way than his father. Lately, though...
Both looked up as if sensing her watching them from the window. She raised her coffee mug in a salute to them. Their expressions turned solemn as they entered the building.
Neither man was stupid. Both were hanging on by a thread, and if the rumors about Wade mistreating his wife could ever be proved, he would be gone soon. But in a small community like this, it was hard to prove there was a problem unless the wife came forward. So far, Abby hadn’t. But now she was in the hospital after allegedly falling off a ladder. Maybe this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back.
McCall’s cell phone rang. She stepped to her desk and picked up, seeing that it was her grandmother. It felt strange having a relationship with her after all those years of never even laying eyes on the woman.
“Good evening,” she said into the phone.
“What are you still doing at work this late?” Pepper demanded.
“I was just about to leave,” McCall said. The day had gotten away from her after she dropped her daughter off at day care and came in to deal with all the paperwork that tended to stack up on her desk. Most of the time, she and Luke could work out a schedule where one—if not both of them—was home with Tracey.
But several days a week, her daughter had to go to a day care near the sheriff’s office in downtown Whitehorse. McCall had checked it out carefully and found no problems with the two women who ran it. Tracey seemed to love going because she was around other children. For a working mother, it was the best McCall could do.
“So is there any truth to it?” her grandmother demanded in her no-nonsense normal tone of voice. “Has one of the McGraw twins been found?”
The question took McCall by surprise. For twenty-five years there had been no news on the fraternal twins who’d been kidnapped. Then a few months ago a true-crime writer had shown up at the McGraw ranch and all hell had broken loose. While some pieces of the puzzle had been found, the twins hadn’t been yet.
Now was it possible one of them had been located?
“I heard it’s the boy, Oakley,” her grandmother was saying. “Apparently your theory about who might have adopted out the children was correct. It was the Whitehorse Sewing Circle. That bunch of old hens. You should arrest them all.” Most of the women involved in the illegal kidnappings were dead now. “On top of that, that crazy daughter of Arlene Evans almost escaped from the loony bin last night.”
McCall hadn’t heard about that, either. It amazed her that Pepper often knew what was going on in town before the sheriff did—even though the Winchester Ranch was miles south of Whitehorse.
“Thank you for all the information. Is that it? Or was the bank robbed?”
Pepper laughed. “You should hire me since I know more of what is going on than you do.” It was an old refrain, one McCall almost enjoyed. Almost.
“Well, let me know when you find out something worth hearing about,” Pepper said. “I’m having lunch with the rest of your family tomorrow. Maybe sometime you can come out.” With that, her grandmother was gone, leaving McCall to smile before she dialed Travers McGraw’s number.
* * *
VANCE ELLIOT WATCHED the landscape blur past and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.
“You all right?” the attorney asked from behind the wheel of the SUV. The fiftysomething man wore a dark suit, reminding Vance of an undertaker. No one wore a suit like that, not around these parts, anyway. So Jim Waters must be some highfalutin lawyer who made a lot of money. But then, he worked for Travers McGraw, Vance thought as he saw the huge ranch ahead. Travers McGraw probably paid him well.
“I’m a little nervous,” he admitted in answer to the lawyer’s question. He was about to come face-to-face with Travers McGraw and his three sons. He’d heard enough about them to be anxious. Plus, the attorney had already warned him.
“They aren’t going to believe you, but don’t let that rattle you,” Waters said. “They’ve had a lot of people pretend to be the missing twins, so naturally they’re going to be suspicious. But having the stuffed horse will help. Then there is the DNA test. You’re ready for that, right?”
Right. That alone scared the daylights out of him, but he simply nodded to the attorney’s question.
He watched the ranch house come into view. He couldn’t imagine growing up on a place like this. Couldn’t imagine having that much land or that much money. Nor could he deny the appeal of being a McGraw with all the privileges that came with it.
He knew he was getting ahead of himself. There were a lot of hoops he had to jump through before they would accept that he was Oakley, the missing twin. But at least he could admire the house until then. It was huge with several wings that trailed off from the two-story center.
He’d heard stories about lavish parties where senators and even the governor had attended. That was before the twins were kidnapped, though, before the first Mrs. McGraw went to the loony bin and the second one went to jail.
But the house and grounds were still beautiful, and the horses... A half dozen raced through a nearby pasture as beautiful as any horseflesh he’d ever seen. Horses were in his blood, he thought with a silent laugh. And as Waters turned into the long lane leading to the house, he thought maybe horses were in his future.
“There is nothing to be afraid of,” the attorney said. “Just tell them what you told me.”
“I will.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. Just stick to the story. The attorney had believed him. So Travers McGraw should, too, right? The stuffed horse had opened the door. The DNA test would cinch it.
As Waters brought the SUV to a stop in front of the house, Vance picked up the paper bag next to him and held it like a suit of armor to his chest.
“Try to relax,” the attorney said. “You look like you’re going to jump out of your skin.”
He took a deep breath and thought of his run-ins with the law as a horse thief. He’d talked his way out of those. He could handle this.
Think about the payoff, he reminded himself. This place could be his one day.
* * *
“DAD, I DON’T want you getting upset,” Boone McGraw said as they waited in Travers’s office. “You know what the doctor said.”
“I had a heart attack,” his father said impatiently. “Given the state of my health and why it was so bad, I’m fine now. Even the doctor is amazed how quickly I’ve bounced back.”
Ledger stood by the office fireplace, as anxious as the rest of his family. They all knew that their father had bounced back because even before this phone call, Travers McGraw was determined the twins were alive and that he would see them again.
And now, after releasing more information to the press, maybe one of the twins had come forward. Ledger couldn’t help being skeptical. They’d been here before. Except this time, this one had Oakley’s stuffed horse, which had been in his crib the night he was kidnapped. Would his father finally be able to find some peace?
Or, after twenty-five years, had too much time passed? Oakley would be a grown man, no longer that cute six-month-old baby who’d been stolen. He would have lived a good portion of his life as someone else, with other parents. He would have his own life and the McGraws would all be strangers to him.
Ledger feared this wasn’t going to be the homecoming his father was hoping for as he heard a vehicle pull up out front. He looked from his father to his brother and then went to answer the door. Better him than Boone, who already looked as if he could chew nails. It was going to take a lot to convince Boone that whoever was headed for the door was the lost twin.
Unable to wait for a knock, Ledger opened the door. Attorney Jim Waters and the young man, who might or might not be his brother, were at the bottom of the porch steps. His gaze went right to the young man, who looked dressed in all new clothing from the button-down shirt to the jeans and Western boots. He was tall, broad-shouldered and slim hipped like all the McGraw men.
At the sound of the front door opening, Vance Elliot looked up, his thick dark hair falling over his forehead. Ledger saw the blue eyes and felt a shiver.
This might really be his brother.
“Vance Elliot, this is Ledger McGraw,” Waters said by introduction.
“Please, come in,” he said, unable to take his eyes off the young man. “My father and brother are in his office.”
* * *
LEDGER LED THE two men into his father’s office and closed the door. The new cook, a woman by the name of Louise, he’d made a point of learning, was in the kitchen making dinner. Cull and Nikki should be back soon. Unless they decided to stay in Whitehorse and go out to dinner. He still couldn’t believe how hard his brother had fallen for the true-crime writer.
“Please sit down,” Travers said, getting to his feet to shake hands with Vance. He waited until everyone was sitting before he asked, “So you think you might be my son Oakley. Why don’t you start by telling us something about you?”
Vance shifted in his chair. He held a large paper bag on his lap, the top turned under. Ledger assumed the stuffed toy horse was inside. He would have thought his father would want to see it right away.
“I don’t know exactly where to begin. I was raised in Bear Creek, south of Billings, on a small farm. My parents told me when I was about five that I was adopted.”
“Did you have other siblings?” Travers asked.
Vance shook his head. “Just me.” He shrugged. “I had a fine childhood. We didn’t have much but it was enough. I went to college in Billings for a while before getting a job on a ranch outside of Belfry. That’s about it.”
“And how did you become aware that you might be one of the missing McGraw twins?” his father asked.
“I heard about it on television. When they mentioned the small stuffed horse and showed a photo of what it might look like, I couldn’t believe it. I’d had one just like it as far back as I could remember.”
“Is that what’s in the bag?” Boone asked.
Vance nodded and stood to place the bag on the desk in front of Travers. He took a step back, bumped into the chair and sat again.
The room had gone deathly quiet. Ledger could hear nothing but his own heart pounding as his father pulled the bag closer, unfolded the top and looked inside.
A small gasp escaped his father’s lips as he pulled the toy stuffed horse from the bag. Ledger saw the worn blue ribbon around the horse’s neck and swung his gaze to Vance. If he was telling the truth, then this man was Oakley, all grown up.
* * *
WATERS COULDN’T HELP the self-satisfied feeling he had when he saw Travers McGraw’s expression. He’d felt the same way when he’d seen the toy stuffed horse. It was Oakley’s; there was no doubt about that.
Of course, this wouldn’t be a done deal until after the DNA tests were run, but he was on the home stretch.
“Would the two of you like to stay for dinner?” Travers asked, putting the toy back into the sack and rising to his feet. “I’d like to hear more about your childhood, Vance.” It was clear he was fighting calling the young man by that name.
He’d also seen Travers’s face when the two of them had walked into the office. The horse rancher had looked shocked by how much the young man resembled Travers’s own sons.
Waters looked to Vance before he said, “We’d love to stay for dinner. If you’re sure it isn’t an inconvenience.” He thought of the years he’d sat at the big dining room table and eaten under this roof. If this went the way he expected it to, he’d be a regular guest again.
“Wonderful,” Travers said as he came around his desk. Putting an arm around Vance, he steered him toward the dining room at the back of the house. “Where are you staying?”
Vance cleared his voice. “I spent last night at a motel in town.”
“You can stay here on the ranch if you’d like,” Travers said. “I don’t want to pressure you. Give it some thought. We can discuss it after dinner.”
Waters smiled to himself. This couldn’t have gone any better. Vance was in—at least until the DNA test. But if he passed that...
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked caller ID. Patricia, the soon-to-be former wife of Travers McGraw. He was sure his boss would ask him to handle the divorce. It would be his pleasure.
Chapter Four (#u97bb23ed-0d66-5bcc-ae54-a1d606b40d60)
Abby was dressed and sitting in the wheelchair waiting when her husband came into her hospital room the next afternoon. She felt fine, except for a headache and no memory of what had happened to her. But hospital policy required her to be “driven” down to the exit by wheelchair after her doctor came in.
Wade stopped in the doorway. She gave him a smile to reassure him that she was all right. He’d been so worried. She’d never seen him like that before.
He tried to smile back, but his expression crumbled. He burst into tears, dropping to his knees in front of her wheelchair.
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry.”
“Wade, this wasn’t your fault. You have to quit blaming yourself,” Abby said, wishing it was true, as he squeezed her hand with what felt like desperation.
“I just don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” he was saying. “When I thought you were dead... Abby, I love you so much. Sometimes I do stupid things. I lose my temper or—”
“Well, fortunately, you didn’t lose her,” his father said from behind him in the doorway. Neither of them had heard Huck, so she didn’t know how long he’d been standing there.
Her husband surreptitiously wiped at his tears but didn’t get up. Nor did he let go of the one hand he held of hers too tightly.
“In fact, son, she looks like she feels much better,” Huck said as he entered the hospital room. “But you should have gotten those jars from the garage when she asked you to. I’m sure you won’t make that mistake again.”
Wade squeezed her hand even tighter. “No, I won’t,” he said, his voice sounding strained. “I swear.”
“Then let’s get this woman home. Can’t let crime run rampant because of peach jam,” Huck said with a laugh.
Wade got up slowly as if he had a terrible weight on his shoulders. Abby watched him use the wheelchair arms to support himself as he lumbered to his feet.
She’d blamed his job at the sheriff’s office for the change in her husband, but as she felt the tension between Wade and his father, she wondered how much of the change in him was Huck’s doing. Her father-in-law often talked about making his son a man. It was no secret that he thought Wade wasn’t “tough” enough.
The doctor came in then to talk to her about her recovery. He still questioned whether she should be going home. She could tell that he was worried about her—and suspicious of her accident.
But Abby found herself paying more attention to what was going on out in the hallway. Huck had drawn Wade out into the hall. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but just from her husband’s hunched shoulders, she knew that Huck was berating him. Talk about the kettle calling the skillet black, she thought.
* * *
“STOP YOUR DAMNED BLUBBERING,” Huck said, taking Wade’s arm and halfway dragging him down the corridor. “You didn’t do anything wrong, remember? So quit apologizing.”
