and his brothers had been angry with their dad for not fighting for them. As they’d gotten older, they’d realized their mother had done them a favor. Harlan knew nothing about raising kids. He was an easygoing cowboy who only came alive when you handed him a guitar—or a beer.
Still, as Tag watched his father launch into another song, he realized how much he’d missed him—and Montana. Had Harlan missed him, as well? Doubtful, Tag thought, remembering the reception he’d gotten when he’d knocked at his father’s cabin door this morning.
“Tag?”
“Surprise.”
“What are you doing here?” his father had asked, moving a little to block his view of the interior of the cabin.
“It’s Christmas. I wanted to spend it with you.”
Harlan couldn’t have looked any more shocked by that—or upset.
Tag realized that surprising his father had been a mistake. “If this is a bad time...”
His father quickly shook his head, still blocking the door, though. “No, it’s just that...well, you know, the cabin is a mess. If you give me a little while...”
Tag peered past him and lowered his voice. “If you have someone staying here—”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that.”
But behind his father, Tag had spotted a leather jacket, female size, on the arm of the couch. “No problem. I thought I’d go see my cousin Dana. I’ll come back later. Actually, if you want, I could get a motel—”
“No. Stay here. Bring your stuff back later. I’ll have the spare room made up for you. Your uncle and I are playing tonight at the Canyon.”
“Great. I’ll stop by. I haven’t heard you play in a long time. It’ll be nice.”
Tag had left, but he was still curious about his father’s female visitor. He knew nothing about his father’s life. Harlan could have a girlfriend. It wasn’t that unusual for a good-looking man in his fifties.
Tag tried not to let Harlan’s reaction to him showing up unexpectedly bother him. Determined to enjoy the holiday here, he had made plans tomorrow to go Christmas tree hunting with his Montana cousin Dana Cardwell. He’d missed his cousins and had fond memories of winter in Montana, sledding, skiing, ice-skating, starting snowball fights and cutting their own Christmas trees. He looked forward to seeing his cousins Jordan and Stacy, as well. Clay was still in California helping make movies last he’d heard, but Dana had said he was flying in Christmas Eve.
Tag planned to do all the things he had done as a boy this Christmas. Not that he could ever bring back those family holidays he remembered. For starters, his four brothers were all still in Texas. The five of them had started a barbecue joint, which had grown into a chain called Texas Boys Barbecue.
He would miss his brothers and mother this Christmas, but he was glad to have this time with his cousins and his dad. As the band wound up one song and quickly broke into another, he finished his beer. He’d see his father back at the cabin. Earlier, he’d returned to find the woman’s leather jacket he’d seen on the couch long gone.
Harlan had been getting ready for his gig tonight, so they hadn’t had much time to visit. But the spare room had been made up, so Tag had settled in. He hoped to spend some time with his father, though. Maybe tomorrow after he came back from Christmas tree hunting.
As he started to turn to leave, a blonde smelling of alcohol stumbled into him. Tag caught her as she clung to his ski jacket for support. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Not one of the skiers or snowmobilers who were duded out in the latest high-tech, cold-weather gear.
“Sorry,” she said, slurring her speech.
“Are you all right?” he asked as she clung to his jacket for a moment before gathering her feet under her.
“Fine.” She didn’t look fine at all. Clearly, she’d had way too much to drink. “You look like him.”
Tag laughed. Clearly, the woman also didn’t know what she was saying.
She lurched away from him and out the back door.
He couldn’t believe with it snowing so hard that she’d gone outside without a coat. Hesitating only a moment, he went out after her. He was afraid she might be planning to drive herself home. Or that she had been hurrying outside because she was going to be sick. He didn’t want her passing out in a snowdrift and dying of hypothermia.
Montana was nothing like where he lived in Texas. Winter in Montana could be dangerous. With this winter storm, the temperatures had dropped. There were already a couple of feet of snow out the back door of the bar before this latest snowfall. He could see that a good six inches of new snow had fallen since he’d arrived in town.
He spotted the woman’s tracks in the snow just outside the door. As he stepped out to look for her, he saw her through the falling snow. A man wearing a cowboy hat was helping her into his pickup. She appeared to be arguing with him as he poured her into the passenger seat and slammed the door. The man glanced in Tag’s direction for a moment before he climbed behind the wheel and the two drove off.
“Where did she go?”
He turned to find a slim brunette behind him. “Where did who go?”
“Mia.” At his blank expression, she added, “The blonde woman wearing a T-shirt like the one I have on.”
He glanced at her T-shirt and doubted any woman could wear it quite the way this one did. The letters THE CANYON were printed across her full breasts with the word bar in smaller print beneath it. He realized belatedly that the woman who’d bumped into him had been wearing the same T-shirt—like the other servers here in the bar.
“I did see her,” he said. “She stumbled into me, then went rushing out this door.”
“Unbelievable,” the brunette said with a shake of her head. Her hair was chin length, thick and dark. It framed a face that could only be described as adorable. “She didn’t finish her shift again tonight.”
“She wasn’t in any shape to continue her shift,” he said. “She could barely stand up she was so drunk.”
For the first time, the brunette met his gaze. “Mia might have had one drink because a customer insisted, but there is no way she was drunk. I saw her ten minutes ago and she was fine.”
He shrugged. “I saw her two minutes ago and she was falling-down drunk. She didn’t even bother with her coat.”
“And you let her leave like that?”
“Apparently her boyfriend or husband was waiting for her. The cowboy poured her into the passenger seat of his pickup and they left.”
“She doesn’t have a boyfriend or a husband.”
“Well, she left with some man wearing a Western hat. That’s all I can tell you.” He remembered that the blonde had been arguing with the man and felt a sliver of unease embed itself under his skin. Still, he told himself, he’d had the distinct feeling that she’d known
