Atonement. B.J. Daniels

this was some kind of trick. She picked up the second clipping and unfolded it. The first thing that caught her eye was the photograph that ran with the article. It was a shot of what was left of a car that had crashed and burned in some ravine in what looked like the desert.

      “Take a look at the date on the newspaper clipping,” he said.

      Her heart plummeted as she saw the date—a year ago tomorrow. How was that possible? She was eight months pregnant! For a moment, she didn’t know what to make of it.

      Then she looked at the cowboy sitting across from her. “Is this some kind of joke?”

      “My brother’s death isn’t a joke. At least not to me.”

      Tessa shook her head as she glanced again at the photos of the twin boys, then at the young men. She couldn’t tell the brothers apart. Nor could she be sure which of them was Ethan.

      She raised her gaze and narrowed her eyes at him. “If your brother is really dead, then unless you’re a triplet...” Her hand went to her belly.

      “Are we back to that?” he asked, sounding sad.

      Tessa stood abruptly. “If it wasn’t Ethan who I met last year, then it was you masquerading as him. That means you’re the one responsible for this,” she said, her hands covering her stomach, “and for stealing my money.”

      He shook his head. “My name is Dillon. Dillon Lawson. And you and I have never met before I looked up a while ago and saw you climbing my corral fence.” His eyes lowered to where the baby was growing inside her, and she saw his gaze soften. “But if I thought for a moment that you really were carrying my brother’s child...”

      Tessa felt such a wave of sadness. She really had believed that when he saw her, saw how pregnant she was, he would do the right thing. “It’s my own fault. I knew the kind of man you were the moment I met you. A charming saddle bum who was as dependable as the weather. You said you were trying to change. I should have known better. As it turns out, you’re more despicable than even I could have imagined.”

      Her eyes burned, but she angrily fought back the tears as she looked into his face. If his brother was dead, then this was the man she’d fallen desperately in love with, the man who had promised her the moon and stars, the man who’d lied to her from the word go. Ethan wasn’t even his real name. He’d used his dead brother’s first name, probably thinking that she’d never track him down, since he’d lied about his last name.

      She hugged her stomach protectively. “Fine,” she said, hating the emotion she heard in her voice. “You want to pretend this isn’t your baby and that you don’t know me? Just sign this and we’re done.” She pulled the form from her shoulder bag and shoved it across the table at him.

      He picked it up and took a moment to look at the form that would give him no rights to their child. When he’d finished, he looked up at her again. “I can’t sign this. I thought I made myself clear. I’m not the father of your baby. Believe me, I would remember if we’d ever...” His gaze locked with hers for a moment. He actually flushed. “If we had ever...met. And with Ethan dead a year ago tomorrow...” He raised a hand to keep her from interrupting him. “I should also warn you that I am undersheriff of Sweetgrass County, so if this whole charade is about extorting money from me or from my brother’s insurance policy...” He pushed the form back across the table toward her. “I also would suggest you reconsider whatever it is you’re planning to do with that .45 you’re reaching for in your bag.”

      “Undersheriff?”

      He nodded. “If you like, I would be happy to show you my star.”

      She shook her head, hating what a fool she’d been, was still. She hadn’t expected much when she’d come all this way. Knowing Ethan, she’d realized there was little chance of getting back the money he’d stolen from her. But she’d expected him to be at least man enough to sign the form.

      When he’d left without a word, he’d made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with his child. That hurt more than his leaving her. He knew how she felt about family, since she’d never had one.

      Obviously, none of that mattered. He’d never planned to make this right, knowing he would never have to. It was her word against the county lawman’s.

      Snatching up the paper, she shoved it back into her shoulder bag and fought not to cry. “I thought I saw something...good in you.” She met his gaze, losing herself for a minute in all that pale blue. Tears burned her eyes. She shook her head. Nope, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt her. “I don’t ever want to see you again. If you ever come near my baby—” Her hand dropped into her shoulder bag.

      “I would advise you not to threaten an officer of the law again by pulling that gun.”

      “Just so we understand each other. You can take my money and hurt me, but never my baby. Never. Undersheriff or not.” She gave him one last look, turned and walked out. He didn’t try to stop her.

      CHAPTER THREE

      DILLON WATCHED THE young woman walk down the road to where she’d left her newer-model compact car. Apparently she’d wanted to surprise him. Well, she’d done that, all right.

      He couldn’t make out the plate number from where he stood, but it looked like a California license plate. His brother had been killed in Arizona. Not that far away, possibly.

      What Ethan had been doing down in Arizona, Dillon had no idea. Had this woman even ever met Ethan?

      On the form she’d tried to get him to sign, he’d seen that her name was Tessa Winters. But that might have also been a lie, just like swearing that Ethan was the father of her baby. Hell, he realized with a start, the woman might not even be pregnant.

      He half wished he’d arrested her for trying to scam him.

      As the dust settled behind her car, Dillon felt as if he’d imagined the entire encounter, like a bad dream. And yet it nagged at him. He kept recalling her expression when she’d seen the photographs. There was no way she could have been acting. She’d been shocked, but not half as shocked as she’d been when she’d looked at the newspaper clippings.

      She hadn’t known Ethan was dead.

      Dillon shook his head. It didn’t make any sense. Maybe that was why it had left him so upset. When she’d gotten a good look at him earlier, she’d fainted. Or at least she’d pretended to.

      He tried to brush off the whole incident. The woman had tried to run some kind of con on him. It hadn’t worked. Case closed.

      Going back to the table, he gathered up the photos and clippings. The newspaper clippings were worn from looking at them so many times. It had been a horrendous accident. According to the coroner Dillon had spoken with in Arizona, speed and alcohol had been involved.

      He was hit again with guilt for not saving his brother. The fact that he’d tried when they were younger didn’t count. He should have tried harder, he thought as he put the photos and newspaper clippings back in the drawer where he kept them. Ethan was gone. He had to accept that. Or at least try to live with it.

      But the woman had left him stirred up. He couldn’t work with the filly now. The horse would sense his tension. He’d thought he was handling the one-year anniversary of his brother’s death fairly well—until the woman had shown up.

      Gathering himself up, he decided the best thing he could do was some good, hard, physical labor. He headed for the horse stalls. Nothing like mucking stalls to wear himself out.

      It had been a mild winter. Today the sun felt warm on his back as he walked to the barn, but the breeze had a nip to it, and he’d heard on the radio earlier that there was talk of snow in the mountains in the next day or so.

      Spring in Montana could be a terrible tease. One day would be beautiful and the next as much like winter as a day in January. Dillon had seen thirty-six springs come and