you not to trust him!”
“I’m sorry,” Josie cried. “When he invited me to join them at the table, I couldn’t say no!”
Bree clawed back her long blond hair. “What happened?”
“I won,” Josie said defiantly. Then she swallowed. “At least I did for a while. Then I started losing. First I lost the chips I’d won, then I lost our grocery money, and then …”
Cold understanding went through Bree. She finished dully, “Then Mr. Hudson kindly offered to loan you whatever you needed.”
Josie’s mouth fell open. “How did you know?”
Because Bree knew bullies like Greg Hudson and how they tried to gain the upper hand. She’d met his type before, long ago, in the life she’d given up ten years ago—before she’d fallen in love, and her life had fallen apart. Before the man she loved had betrayed her, leaving her to the sheriff and the wolves—orphaned and penniless at eighteen, with a heartbroken twelve-year-old sister.
But oh, yes. Bree knew Greg Hudson’s type. She closed her eyes, feeling sick as she thought of the hotel manager’s hard eyes above his jovial smile, of his cheerful Hawaiian shirt that barely covered his fat belly. The resort manager had slept with many of his female employees, particularly amongst the lower-paid housekeeping staff. In the two months since the Dalton sisters had arrived in Hawaii, Bree had wondered more than once why he’d gone to such trouble to hire them from Seattle. He claimed the girls had been recommended by their employment agency, but that didn’t ring true. Surely there were many people looking for jobs here in Honolulu.
Josie had laughed at her, teasing her for being “gloomy and doomy,” but as Bree had scrubbed the bathrooms and floors of the lavish resort, she’d tried to solve the puzzle in her mind, and her bad feeling only grew. Especially when their boss made it clear over the past few weeks that he was interested in Josie. And made it equally clear the one he really wanted was Bree.
But of course Josie, with her innocent, trusting spirit, never noticed evil around her. She didn’t fully understand why Bree had given up gambling, and insisted they work only low-wage jobs for the ten years since their father died, keeping them under the radar of unscrupulous, dangerous men. Josie didn’t know how wicked the world could be.
Bree did.
“Gambling doesn’t pay.” She kept her voice calm. “You should know that by now.”
“You’re wrong. It does!” Josie said angrily. “We had plenty of money ten years ago.” She turned and looked wistfully at the window, toward the moonlit Hawaiian night. “And I thought if I could just be more like you and Dad …”
“You were using us as role models? Have you lost your mind?” Bree exploded. “I’ve spent the last decade trying to give you a different life!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Josie cried. “What you’ve sacrificed for me?”
Bree took a deep breath. “It wasn’t just for you.” Her throat ached as she rose to her feet. “How much money did you lose tonight?”
For a moment, her sister didn’t answer. Outside, Bree heard the distant plaintive call of seabirds as Josie stared mutinously at the floor, arms folded. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.
“A hundred.”
Bree felt relief so fierce she almost cried. She’d been so afraid it would be worse. Reaching out, she gave her sister’s shoulder a squeeze. “It’ll be all right.” She exhaled in relief. “Our budget will be tight, but we’ll just eat a little more rice and beans this month.” Wiping her eyes, she tried to smile. “Let this be a good lesson …”
But Josie hadn’t moved from the end of the bed. She looked up, her face pale.
“A hundred thousand, Bree,” she whispered. “I owe Mr. Hudson a hundred thousand dollars.”
For a second, Bree couldn’t understand the words. Lingering tears of relief burned her eyes like acid as she stared at her sister.
A hundred thousand dollars.
Turning away, Bree started to pace, compulsively twisting a long tendril of blond hair into a tight ringlet around her finger as she struggled to make sense of all her worst fears coming true. She tried to control her shaking hands. Tried desperately to think of a way out.
“But I told you, you don’t have to worry!” Josie blurted out. “I have a plan.”
Bree stopped abruptly. “What is it?”
“I’m going to sell the land.”
Her eyes went wide as she stared at her sister.
“There’s no choice now. Even you must see that,” Josie argued, blinking fast as she clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “We’ll sell it, pay off the debt, and then pay off those men who are after us. You’ll finally be free—”
“That land is in trust.” Bree’s voice was hard. “You don’t get possession until you’re twenty-five or married. So put it out of your mind.”
Josie shook her head desperately. “But I know how I could—”
“You can’t,” she said coldly. “And even if you could, I wouldn’t let you. Dad put that land into an unbreakable trust for a reason.”
“Because he thought I was helpless to take care of myself.”
“Because from the day you were born, you’ve had a knack for trusting people and believing the best of them.”
“You mean I’m stupid and naive.”
Controlling herself, Bree clenched her hands at her sides.
“It’s a good quality, Josie,” she said quietly. “I wish I had more of it.”
And it was true. Josie had always put concern for others over her own safety and well-being. As a chubby girl of five, she’d once wandered out of their Alaskan cabin into the snow, hoping to find their neighbor’s cat, which had disappeared the day before. Eleven-year-old Bree had searched their rural street with their panicked father and half a dozen neighbors for hours, until they’d finally found her, lost in the forest, dazed and half-frozen.
Josie had nearly died that day, for the sake of a cat that was found later, snug and warm in a nearby barn.
Bree took a deep breath. Her little sister’s heart was as big as the world. It was why she needed someone not nearly so kind or innocent to protect her. “Are they still playing?”
“Yes,” Josie said in a small voice.
“Who’s at the table?”
“Mr. Hudson and a few owners. Texas Big-Hat, Silicon Valley, Belgian Bob,” she said, using the housekeeping staff’s nicknames for the villa owners. Her eyes narrowed. “And one more man I didn’t recognize. Handsome. Arrogant. He kicked me out of the game.” She scowled. “The others would’ve let me stay longer—”
“You
