My life is a lie.
Savannah Slade stood before a mirror, staring at her own
image as if she'd never seen it before. She knew the
statistics: twenty-two years old, barely five feet four
inches tall, shoulder-length white-blond hair and big blue
eyes. She had a baby-doll look, but there was nothing
babyish about her.
Her recently deceased father, Andrew Slade, had raised his
daughters to be tough and self-sufficient, and she'd always
considered herself that and more. But today she'd learned a
devastating secret at the reading of his will. Andrew wasn't
her father, and her sisters weren't really her sisters. The
journal she was holding held even more secretsโsecrets that,
if revealed, were going to shatter more people's lives than
just her own.
She opened the journal that Coleman Rice, the family lawyer,
had given her. Her hands were still shaking. Even though
she'd already read the entire book twice over, she returned
to the first line. No matter how startling the information,
there was no mistaking the truth.
You are not my child, and my darling Hannah was not your
mother. Your real mother's name was Chloe Stewart, and when
I first met her in Miami, Florida, she was dying of cancer.
She backed up to her bed, then sat down with a thump,
swallowed past the lump in her throat and continued to read.
She said she was not married to your father but his name was
Gerald Stoss, oldest of twin boys born to Rupert Stoss, and
the heir to a massive fortune. She claimed Gerald did not
know of your existence until she learned she had inoperable
cancer. After that, she contacted him for help. He was
devastated to learn your mother was dying, but he assured
her he would take care of you. In fact, bring you both into
his home and care for her during her last days, and claim
you as his rightful heir.
Savannah shivered. So she was a bastard child. Not unusual.
If that had been the only revelation, this would have been a
bit easier to accept. But such was not the case.
She laid the journal aside and walked to the windows
overlooking the south side of the ranch, then leaned her
forehead against the panes. If only she could close her eyes
and wish this horror story away.
A hard wind suddenly whipped around the corner of the ranch
house, reminding her that spring had yet to make a
full-fledged appearance in Montana. The weather had been
chilly ever since the funeral, and now, three days later,
was still the same. The house was warm, the two-story
rock-and-cedar structure a strong bulwark against the
unforgiving winds that continued to blow. But Savannah
garnered no comfort from the familiarity. The family home no
longer represented safety to her, and she wondered if she
would never know peace again.
Everything she and her sisters had known from as far back as
she could remember was a lieโa convoluted fabrication of
bits of their pasts that Andrew had woven into their lives
with him.
She felt sick. According to the lawyer, each of them, at
different phases of their lives, had been taken in by
Andrew, but only after their respective mothers claimed that
the girls' lives were in danger. At this point, Savannah was
so shocked and angry at the entire revelation that it was
difficult to grieve for Andrew's passing. She looked back at
the bed and the journal she'd just abandoned. The sight of
it taunted her. Unable to leave it alone, she sat down on
the mattress, searched for the phrase that had left her
speechless and read it again.
They said they would kill you, just like they'd killed your
father.
Savannah's gut knotted as she scanned through the next two
pages of information. What kind of a family had she been
born into? If this story was true, she'd just gone from
being the baby of the Slade family to the heir to a massive
fortune first amassed in the early 1900s by Austrian
immigrant Anton Stoss.
It was a long, convoluted story, but the bottom line was
that, although she was illegitimate, inheritance in this
case was not based on legal marriage. Instead, the heir of
each generation would always be the eldest and firstborn.
And even though her father had been a twin, he was the
oldest by two minutes, which made him the heir, and since
she was
his only heir, the vast inheritance was
supposedly hers.
According to the journal, when the family learned that
Gerald had fathered a child with a woman who was dying of
cancer, and that he intended to bring the woman and toddler
into the family and claim the child as his heir, his twin,
Joseph, had been furious. According to what Gerald had told
Chloe, Joseph resented not being named a dual heirโthat he'd
lost the right by virtue of being born a mere two minutes later.
Savannah turned the page. Andrew's familiar handwriting
jumped out at her.
Your mother, Chloe, belonged to the church in Miami,
Florida, where I'd been asked to hold a revival. She was in
the front row every night, her bald head wrapped in a scarf,
her skin pale and ashen. You were but a two-year-old
toddler, oblivious to the fact that your mother was dying.
Your sister, Maria, was already with me and sat nearby on
the same pew, so that I might keep a close eye on her. Every
night, when your mother would stand and ask for healing,
Maria would scoot over and play with you while we prayed for
her.
Then the last night came. She arrived carrying not only you
but a stuffed rabbit and a satchel. After the service, she
waited until everyone else was gone before telling her story
between harsh, choking sobs. My heart ached for her as her
story unfolded, and it was then I began to realize that,
once again, God had more in mind for me than just preaching
His word. According to her, your father, whom she appeared
to love deeply, had been killed that very day in a car
accident. But it was the phone call she got later that
changed her grief to fear. A man told her bluntly that if
she tried to make a claim on the Stoss fortune on your
behalf, you would meet the same fate your father had met.
They said they would kill you, just like they'd killed your
father.
After a long, involved conversation, she convinced me that
she had no other options. I looked at you, sleeping
peacefully in Maria's lap, and gave in to the inevitable.
She gave me a letter entrusting you to my care. A copy of it
is in the back of this journal, along with a copy of your
birth certificate listing Gerald Stoss as your father. The
originals of both documents are with my lawyer, Coleman
Rice. Suffice it to say, by the time I left Miami, I had
acquired another daughter.
Savannah closed the journal and set it aside. Before
Andrew's abrupt and unexpected death, she'd known her place
in the worldโright here on the Triple S, a huge, sprawling
ranch a few miles from Missoula, Montana.
Although she had not been out of college long, her affinity
with numbers had led her to take over the ranch bookkeeping,
as well as the breeding registrations for the horse and
cattle operations, leaving the role of "woman of the house"
to her oldest sister, Holly. Maria, her middle sister, had
opted for working with the livestock as well as training the
horses.
Andrew's best friend, thirty-nine-year-old Robert TateโBud
to the familyโheld the job of foreman. And now, after the
reading of the will, Bud also held equal ownership in the
Triple S.
This had been her world, but if she was to follow her
curiosity and instincts, it was the world she was about to
abandon.
Savannah put on her coat and scarf, and began searching for
her car keys. There was one person she had to face with this
news before she left for Miami, and he wasn't going to like
what she had to say. Telling her childhood sweetheart and
almost-fiance, Judd Holyfield, that she was leaving Montana
wasn't going to be easy. When she left her room, her purse
was on her shoulder and her car keys in her hand.
"Hey, honey, where are you going?"
Savannah paused in midstride. Ever since Andrew's death, Bud
had taken his duty as foreman beyond the bunkhouse to the
big house. She should have known she would never make it out
of the house without Bud finding out.
"I'm going to Judd's."
Bud eyed the frown lines between Savannah's eyebrows and
knew she was dealing with more than grief.
"Does he know what's happened?"
"Not yet."
"What are you going to tell him?"
Her chin jutted. "That the woman he thinks he loves is a
fraud, then see how it goes."
Bud frowned. "You know him better than that, or at least you
should. That's not going to make a damn bit of difference to
him."
"I know, but it still has to be said, and he's not going to
like the fact that I'm leaving Montana."
"So take him with you."
She shifted angrily. "I may be the smallest Slade on the
place, but I don't need a babysitter. Size is a state of
mind. I can be as tough and as tall as I need to be."
Bud loved these women more than he had a right to, hated
that the family was coming apart and didn't know how to pull
them back into the fold.
"I know, honey. I didn't mean to imply you were helpless. I
worry, okay? But damn it, Savannah, Andrew took you in
because you were in danger. Even though you've grown up,
there's a strong possibility that the danger still
existsโmaybe more than ever."
"I know that, but right now, the only danger I'm about to be
in is with Judd. Say a prayer for me. I'll see you later."
Bud flinched at the sound of the closing door, mumbled a
quiet prayer for the family, then grabbed his jacket and
Stetson and headed for the stables. At least the horses
still needed him, which was more than he could say for
Andrew's daughters.
"Hey, boss! Look out!"
Judd Holyfield reacted to the warning and yanked the reins
of his cutting horse just in time to keep from being gored
by the horns of an angry mama cow. The rangy brindle was
pissed that they'd separated her from her baby and was
pitching a royal fit. "Hurry up and get a band on that
calf!" Judd yelled, keeping his rope taut and the cow at bay.
The little bull bawled as the cowboys upended it. While one
cowboy held the calf down, another grabbed the bander and
deftly slipped a short thick rubber band over the creature's
small downy sac before letting him go free. The thick rubber
band would slowly stop circulation, which would eventually
cause the anatomy in question to shrivel up and drop off. It
was bloodless and a far less painful method of castration
than the old method of cutting had been, but it had to be
done when the calf was small or it wouldn't work. As soon as
the calf was set free, Judd loosened the tension on his rope
and slipped it off the horns of the mama cow in question.
She bellowed loudly, which brought her baby running, and off
they trotted.
"That's the last one," Judd said as he reined in his horse.
"Hey, boss, looks like you've got company."
Judd turned in the saddle. When he recognized Savannah's
car, he frowned. She was driving fast, which meant something
was wrong.
"Three of you clean up here, then take a load of hay over to
the back forty and feed the yearlings. Pete, take my horse
to the barn. Brush her down good, and then make sure she has
food and water. I'll be back later."
He dismounted, handed over the reins and started toward the
house. He was there by the time she pulled up and parked,
and he could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't
happy. As she got out of the car, her body language worried
him even more.
What the hell happened?
"Hi, sugar." He opened his arms. She walked into his embrace
without a word, burying her face against his chest. "What's
wrong?"
"We need to talk."
Everything had been turned upside down since Andrew's sudden
death, and he assumed this was more of the same.
"Let's go inside. I have a fire going in the den and some
chili I could heat up. Are you hungry?"
Savannah shrugged. It was after three, and she realized
they'd all skipped lunch, which wasn't so surprising,
considering what had been happening.
"I guess. Are you?"
He grinned as they walked up the steps and into the house.
"Remember who you're talking to."
Savannah smiled, trying to keep up with his humor. "Right.
Sure, I'll eat with you."
The busywork of heating chili, filling bowls and making
coffee dispelled some of Savannah's nervousness. By the time
they sat down, the butterflies in her stomach were barely
fluttering. After all, this was Judd. She'd loved him
forever. She knew her unexpected news wouldn't affect him
nearly as much as the fact that she intended to leave
Montana, and still without committing to an engagement.
By the time they sat down, Judd was the one who was anxious.
He'd never seen Savannah like this. He waited until she'd
taken a bite before he followed suit. They ate in silence.
Finally she shoved her bowl aside and leaned her elbows on
the table.
"We got a big shock during the reading of the will."
Judd frowned. He'd known that was happening this morning,
but no one had been expecting any surprises. "What kind of
shock?"
Savannah clutched her hands together to keep them from shaking.
"Andrew wasn't my real father."
It was the last thing he had expected her to say. "You're
kidding!"
"I wish. But that's not all. None of the three of us are
real sisters."
A tear rolled out of her eye and down her cheek. The sight
of it cut Judd to the bone.
"Savannahโฆsweetheart, I'm so sorry." He got out of his chair
and quickly circled the table, pulling her up and into his
arms. "So you guys were adopted. That's not such a big deal,
is it?"
"If only that were the case," Savannah said. "Butโฆ we were
never adopted. Not legally. It's all a big complicated mess,
but he left each of us a journal explaining how we came to
live with him and what happened to our real parents.
Remember he used to be an evangelical preacher? And that he
traveled all over the States holding revivals?"
"Yes, I knew he'd done that when he was younger. Why?"
© 2003-2026