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Chapter Three

Honey awoke with a groan. Her companion chuckled. She realized his stirring had disturbed her.

“The truck makes for an uncomfortable bed,” he mentioned cheerfully. “Even with carpet and a sleeping bag.”

“I noticed.” She peered at the faint light in the sky behind the hills. “What time is it?”

“Late. A little after five,” he added when she frowned at him. “I want to get home before noon.”

“Why?”

“Work,” he explained patiently. “I have to take you to the ranch, then head back to town.”

“You wouldn’t be going to the ranch if it weren’t for me, would you?”

“That’s right.”

“You don’t live there with your uncle?”

“Not all the time. I have a room in town.”

Combing her fingers through her hair, she watched him get out and walk to the rear of the SUV.

“Sorry about the cold,” he said, opening the rear door. He removed, then set up a little camping stove, poured water from a plastic jug and put it on to boil.

“Tea or coffee?” he called.

“Coffee.”

“Sugar? Powdered milk?”

“One sugar, please.” She cautiously pushed the covers down, creeping tentatively from the warmth of the sleeping bag. The temperature felt frigid to her.

“I’ll bring it to you.”

When he handed her the cup, she was almost too surprised to thank him. “It’s nice to be waited on.”

“Enjoy it while you can. It isn’t my usual style.”

She sipped the hot brew while he checked the road and declared it safe. The water was no more than six inches deep now. She retrieved her travel kit, freshened up, then paid a visit to the other side of the trees.

“You seem to think of everything—sleeping bag, stove, coffee, tea,” she said as they finished the last of the coffee, both of them in the front seat again.

“A person would be foolish to live in the mountains and not be prepared to wait out a storm.”

“Do you get lots of snow in Idaho?”

He grinned in that special way he had—rather humorous, more than a little sexy and definitely intriguing. It was his smile that had first suggested she could trust him. He’d rewarded her faith by being a perfect gentleman last night.

“Not as much as some places, but enough. Put that parka on. It’s about thirty-six degrees this morning,” he told her. “I don’t want you catching a chill before I get you to the ranch. My gear doesn’t extend to nursing facilities.”

She sighed raggedly, grateful her trust hadn’t been misplaced. There were so few people she dared put her confidence in these days. This man was very…nurturing.

She considered the descriptive word and, while she sensed there was more, much more, to the handsome deputy, it was a reasonable assessment of him.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded and noticed his glance at her hair. Since she didn’t have to hide it under a cap, she’d left it down around her shoulders.

“You look very different from your casino appearance.”

Lifting her chin, she returned his cool appraisal. “That was for work.”

“Or to hide your identity from someone?”

Her heart lurched at his correct assessment. She started to reply, then thought better of it. When unsure of what to say, it was better to be silent. He studied her briefly, then started the truck and drove onto the pavement. Almost three hours later, they arrived at a small lake formed by a dam. A community nestled close by. She opened the map of the state and asked where they were.

“Lost Valley. The town serves the ranchers and the tourists taking the scenic route on their way to Yellowstone or the Tetons or, heading west, those going to Hells Canyon in the summer.”

In the winter, she imagined, the place must be like a deep freeze. She mused on what it would be like, being snowed in for days on end. Her gaze was drawn to Zack, and her heart gave another of those odd lurches.

“Dalton,” she said suddenly. “Wasn’t there a gang by that name in the Wild West days?”

“Yeah. There’s a connection, but we’re descended from the branch that had the good guys.”

His grin was infectious. Smiling, she studied the map again and then the peaks around them when they topped a hill west of the valley.

From this vantage point, she could see all the way down to Lost Valley and the tiny town of the same name tucked in close to the reservoir. The valley was 5000 feet high, according to the map. He-Devil Mountain to the north was 9393 feet high. They were someplace between the two and still climbing.

“We’re nearly home,” he told her.

She gazed all around the panoramic scene of peaceful valley and majestic peaks, the lake and evergreen trees. “It’s beautiful here,” she said. “The most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

He gave her a skeptical glance.

“Well, I’ve only been in Southern California and then Nevada, actually only in Las Vegas, until yesterday,” she admitted. “But I’ve always been fascinated by mountains and how they formed, the vast upheavals of the earth and the forces of nature and all that.”

“Yeah, it’s fascinating,” he agreed.

She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or sincere. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she picked out more odd names on the map. There was a She-Devil Mountain, the mate to He-Devil, she decided, smiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked.

“The names. Seven Devils Mountains. He-Devil. She-Devil. Are there others?”

“There’s one called the Devil’s Tooth. Another is Mount Ogre. Mmm, the Tower of Babel, Mount Baal, the Goblin. Those are the official seven. On the ranch, we have an escarpment with a flat boulder on it that we named the Devil’s Dining Room.”

“Does your Uncle Nick live there alone?”

“No. My twin brothers live on the ranch. My cousins live in Boise but visit often.”

“How many cousins did you say you have?”

“Three.”

A frisson swept along Honey’s scalp. Zack, his two brothers, the three cousins and Uncle Nick. That made seven. She inhaled sharply as her imagination leaped from the seven Daltons to the Seven Devils Mountains.

As if reading her thoughts, he said, “No, the mountains weren’t named in honor of my family.”

Looking at his devilish grin, she wondered about that.

Honey realized she would never find her way back to town as they wound around hills and through canyons. At last they crossed a wooden bridge over a dry creek, and the land opened into a flat valley ringed by tree-covered ridges.

Nestled on a rise, protected in a curving sweep of pine trees, was a stone and split-log ranch house. “Rambling” described it perfectly. Wings spread out to each side of the central structure, which had a porch across its face.

“Home,” Zack said. “There’s Uncle Nick.”

An older man came out onto the porch. His hair was white and lay in an attractive wave sweeping back from his forehead just like his nephew’s. His face was tanned and lined. A tall man, as tall as Zack, his rangy frame retained the lanky appearance of youth. She estimated his age to be late sixties, early seventies.

“What happened to your parents?” she asked.

“They died when we were young.”

“How?”

“My father and mother, plus my dad’s twin brother and his girlfriend, came home one year to visit, bringing us kids with them. They went out on the town one night. There was an avalanche and they never made it back. Since Uncle Nick was the only kin, he and Aunt Milly were saddled with six additional kids to raise.”

“Aunt Milly was the one who died in the accident? It was her little girl who was kidnapped?”

“Yes.”

Honey considered the events that had occurred in his family. Like her, Zack was an orphan who had been taken in by a relative. She felt a bond with him, one of tragedy.

“I’m sorry about your parents and the others,” she said a bit stiffly, but sincerely.

“It was a long time ago.”

“How old were you?”

“Seven. I don’t remember much about it.”

The bleakness of his tone belied that. She started to ask him where he’d lived prior to coming to the ranch, but was forestalled when he parked and leaped out of the truck.

“Wait here,” he said, and slammed the door.

Her heart set up a cacophony as she watched him greet his uncle, then gesture toward the truck as he talked. The uncle stared at her. They talked some more. Finally Zack waved for her to join them.

Reluctantly she did so, then waited for the older man to denounce her as a liar and opportunist. He studied her, his eyes as blue as Zack’s, but shrewd with age. When he reached out and lifted her chin, she met his eyes.

He smiled. “So you think you might be Tink?”

She shook her head. “Your nephew thinks so. I’m Hannah Carrington. Everyone calls me Honey.”

“Zack told me about your circumstances,” the uncle said thoughtfully.

Her heart did a flip until she realized Zack couldn’t possibly know her real circumstances.

“Your parents are gone and you’ve lived with an aunt since you were three or thereabouts?” the old man added.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“There was a question about your birth certificate?”

“I’m sure that’s just one of those odd coincidences that occurs at times.” She tried to sound honest and yet unsure enough to maintain a question about her birth.

He patted her cheek, something she wouldn’t have normally appreciated, but that seemed comforting coming from this kindly old gentleman. Like the nephew, he was a caring person.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said in simple welcome. “Show her to the rose room, Zack. I’ll put lunch on the table.”

“Are you supposed to be up and cooking?” Zack asked.

“Don’t fuss,” the old man said amiably. “The doc said I have to walk an hour every day. I figure if I can walk, I can cook and clean up the house a little.”

Honey saw Zack’s chest rise and fall in an exasperated breath, but he said nothing as his uncle went inside.

“It’s hard to keep help out here,” Zack said to her, heading for the SUV. “It’s too far from town. We’ve had about a dozen housekeepers over the years. They stay six months, maybe a year, then the isolation gets to them.”

He handed her the duffel, tucked his nylon bag under one arm, then lifted out her two heavy suitcases.

Clenching a hand into a fist in a sudden spasm of panic, she followed him inside. Her feet seemed to be coated in lead as they entered the rustic dwelling.

They passed through a comfortably furnished living room and turned right into a hallway. He guided her past two open bedroom doors and went into a third one, the last in this wing of the house.

“This is lovely,” she said, feeling very much the deceptive interloper.

The room was twice as big as the other bedrooms they’d passed. It ran the depth of the wing and had a large sitting area that faced the front yard. A door opened onto a path from that side.

The windows flanking the bed looked out on a small backyard edged by towering trees that grew up a steep ridge, where a forest of firs and pines spread outward and upward over the land.

Zack paused. He looked at the bed, then back to her. His eyes seemed to darken. She felt some secret inner part of her expand painfully, pushing on her lungs so she couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. She couldn’t look away as tension arced between them.

Turning abruptly, he placed her bags on the floor in front of a double set of matching doors. He opened those to disclose a spacious closet. “The bathroom is next door. The dining room is on the other side of the kitchen. Can you be ready to eat in five minutes?”

She nodded.

After he left, her nerves calmed slightly. She slowly pivoted, taking in the wallpaper with the big pink roses and soft green leaves, the sparkling white beadboard that formed the wainscoting and the sturdy oak furniture. A lacy white bedspread interspersed with pink roses covered pale-green sheets on the queen-size bed.

The soft-rose decor wasn’t the sort a household of bachelors would choose. She wondered what woman had picked it out and felt a strange emotion stir in her breast. It took a moment, but she finally recognized it as envy.

Some girl had been lucky to have this room, she thought, fighting the harsh sting of longing as she went to the bathroom and freshened up before facing Zack and his uncle again. That girl had been cherished.

Inhaling carefully, she dried her face, combed her hair and returned to the middle of the house. Four men were busy putting food on the table.

She stopped, her mouth dry, feeling like a rabbit who’d stumbled into a den of wolves. Her feet stuck to the floor.

One of the men spotted her. “Hi. Come on in. We only look dangerous, but no one bites. Uncle Nick lost his teeth years ago, and we’re not allowed to devour pretty women.”

“I have all my own teeth,” Uncle Nick corrected his nephew balefully, then smiled at her, showing off what appeared to be a perfectly good set of natural teeth.

She managed a return smile of sorts.

Zack placed a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table. “Sit,” he said unceremoniously and held a chair for her. “This is Honey Carrington,” he said as if it was perfectly normal to show up with a strange woman in tow.

She sat and let out another careful breath. Zack took the chair beside her while the older man sat at the end of the table to her immediate right. The twins were opposite.

“I’m Trevor, the handsome twin,” the first man who’d spoken informed her, his manner friendly and easy. “That’s Travis. He’s the quiet, ugly one.”

“You look identical,” she said, smiling at his joke.

Travis chuckled while his twin clutched his chest as if wounded. “I’d hoped you could tell the difference,” Trevor said in complaint, then spoiled it with a grin.

“We’ll have a blessing,” Uncle Nick said.

Honey bowed her head when the men did. Uncle Nick thanked the Lord for bringing Honey to them and recounted other blessings. She felt such an impostor. A brief silence ensued, then the uncle said, “Amen.”

“Potatoes?” Zack asked, handing her the bowl.

She took a small serving of each dish as it was passed. There were several to go along with the meat loaf, so her plate ended up filled to the edges. She gazed at it in dismay, not sure she could swallow. She choked down a bite of everything.

“You don’t have to eat it all,” Uncle Nick said kindly.

“Thank you. It’s more than I realized. But everything is delicious,” she quickly added in case she hurt the uncle’s feelings with her lack of appetite.

“So, Zack says you may be our long-lost cousin,” Trevor began after a brief silence. “Where did he find you?”

“In Vegas,” Zack answered before she could. He smiled. “She brought me luck. She found a quarter I dropped. When I put it in the slot machine, I hit the jackpot for six hundred quarters.” He turned to her. “I meant to give you a big tip.”

Heat rose to her cheeks. “That’s okay.”

“A hundred and fifty dollars,” Travis, the quiet twin, commented. “You were lucky.”

“How much did you blow before you won?” the uncle asked shrewdly.

Zack grinned. “Twenty dollars.”

“Huh,” Uncle Nick said.

Honey wasn’t sure if the older man disapproved of the gambling. When he turned his startling blue eyes on her, she felt like a kid called on the carpet.

“Honey and I are going to talk after we eat,” he said. “Privately.”

Her chest actually hurt as she thought of the deception she was perpetrating. Although she wasn’t lying about her past, she’d cast enough doubt to leave the question of her origins open. She hadn’t mentioned her brother at all.

A sigh worked its way out of her. She had to protect Adam. He was her first concern.

Unexpectedly Uncle Nick patted her hand. His wise gaze seemed to peer right into her soul. Instead of feeling cornered, she felt comforted, as if he knew her troubles.

“You’re welcome in this house,” he said.

“Thank you.” Her voice trembled, a fact she couldn’t conceal. Honestly. In another minute she would dissolve into tears and confess all. Would they throw her out? Or would they take her under their wing like some stray kitten?

“Were you in Vegas on vacation?” Travis wanted to know.

She glanced at Zack, then said truthfully, “I was working as a cocktail waitress.”

“Ah,” the other twin said as if that explained a lot. Not a smidgen of condemnation entered his gaze.

She couldn’t stand it another second. Pushing her chair back, she stood abruptly. Four pairs of pure blue eyes stared up at her. “I…excuse me. I need to…to rest for a while.”

Coward and liar that she was, she fled to the pretty bedroom, closed and locked the door behind her, then flung herself on the lace coverlet, tears she wouldn’t let fall burning her eyes like hot coals. She’d never felt so miserable.

Zack shrugged when his brothers stared at him across the table. “Women,” he said in answer to their unvoiced questions. He turned to his uncle. “What do you think?”

Uncle Nick buttered a roll before glancing his way. “I think she needs to rest just as she said. What time did you make her get on the road this morning?”

“Early,” he admitted. Since he’d never been able to hide the truth from Uncle Nick, he told about the storm and having to spend the night in the truck.

“Ahh,” drawled Trevor softly.

Zack glared at his brother. “She might be our cousin,” he said by way of explaining their sleep had been of the most innocent variety.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Trevor said thoughtfully.

Zack kept his mouth shut and finished his meal. The abundant and simple food was delicious compared to the fast food he’d consumed on the road.

After he and Honey had made it into a small town that morning, he’d bought doughnuts, milk and coffee for them at the gas-station mart while they filled up. He hadn’t thought to stop later for a more substantial breakfast.

“You want to talk to Honey now?” he asked Uncle Nick when the older man finished eating.

His uncle considered, then shook his head. “She might be asleep. I thought she looked tired.”

“Yeah. We left early yesterday and she didn’t get off work until two that morning. She didn’t sleep much last night, either. Nightmares,” he explained at his brothers’ identical glances.

“What made you think she was our cousin?” Travis, the quiet twin, asked.

Zack told them about his winnings and the accident that had caused him to drop the bucket of quarters. He vaguely described Honey’s outfit and how he’d just happened to notice the scar on her thigh. He didn’t say they’d both been on their knees picking up quarters at the time, his nose no more than six inches from her…well, it wasn’t necessary to go into fine detail.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen what those gals in Vegas wear,” Trevor agreed.

“You’ve never even been there,” Zack scoffed.

“I’ve seen movies,” the twin asserted, looking wise.

Zack refrained from punching him out, then wondered why he was getting so hot under the collar. There was no reason for him to defend Honey.

“Let the girl alone,” Uncle Nick said, putting an end to the conversation. “She’s probably taking a nap. I’ll talk to her later. Isn’t it time you boys got to work?”

The twins took their plates to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher, then departed for the stable. Zack yawned and thought about a snooze himself.

He helped his uncle clear the table and clean up the kitchen, then Uncle Nick went to his room and Zack sprawled on the leather sofa in the living room, which had once been the entire cabin, built more than 150 years ago.

The homestead had been added to over the years. Uncle Nick had remodeled the east wing and added a master bedroom when he married. The west wing, where Honey was, had been constructed after the six cousins had arrived in order to accommodate the influx of growing children. Uncle Nick and his wife had never considered sending the five nephews and one niece to an orphanage.

His last thought was of the ranch and how nice it was to be home again. The rest of the world was okay for a visit, but this was home. He wondered if Honey would like it here.

Honey awoke with a little cry of fear. It was dark and she didn’t know where she was. Instead of sitting up, she lay still and listened intently, then opened her eyes.

Only after she was sure no one was lurking nearby did she push herself to a sitting position. The room was in deep shadow, but she knew where she was now.

The Dalton ranch. Uncle Nick and the twins. Zack.

As information came flooding back to her consciousness, she wondered if her brother had found a safe haven and hoped he would send an e-mail or call soon. She’d sent him the phone number and address of the ranch.

Rising, she changed from the baggy boy’s clothing to black cotton-knit slacks and a black top. She freshened up and went to the living room, where Uncle Nick was watching TV.

“Did you sleep?” he asked, giving her a kind smile.

“Yes.” She glanced at a wall clock. It was almost seven. “I didn’t realize how long until now.”

“You needed the rest. Come sit a spell and we’ll talk.”

She recoiled from the idea of telling more lies, either outright or by hesitation and implication. However, there was no other choice. She sat in the corner of the sofa.

At the other end, a pillow still showed an imprint as if someone had been lying there. She instinctively knew it had been Zack. An unexpected warmth flowed over her and with it, a confidence in her decision to come north with him.

“Tell me about yourself,” the old man invited.

“What would you like to know?”

“Anything you care to share.”

“Well, my birth certificate shows I was born at home, near Bakersfield, California. My aunt said I was.”

There, in the semidarkness, she told him of her early life, about her parents’ deaths, her aunt and cousin, and what it had been like growing up an orphan. She didn’t mention Adam, but still felt she might have told more than she meant to due to her host’s gentle probing. He asked questions in a way that didn’t seem like prying. His manner was kind and interested, as if she meant something as a person to him. At last she fell silent.

“Do you recall anything of your mother?”

She sorted through her memories. “Some. She used to sing to me. Sometimes, in dreams, I hear a woman’s voice singing old songs. I think that was real.”

“We had a housekeeper one time,” he murmured. “She used to sing while she cooked, old spirituals we all loved. She stayed longer than any other help we ever had. Tink was three when she retired and moved to Texas.”

Guilt stabbed Honey right in the chest. “Mr. Dalton, I don’t really think I could be your daughter. I mean, I don’t remember this place, not the mountains or house or…or anything. I don’t feel that I belong here. I’m sorry.”

“Everyone calls me Uncle Nick,” he said. “You may as well, too. Don’t worry about whether you belong or not. Sometimes a place can grow on you.”

His eyes held a warm glow when he turned on a floor lamp beside his chair. She couldn’t help but smile at him, although her composure was a bit shaky. Deception was a lot harder than she’d realized.

“The boys ate supper earlier,” Uncle Nick continued. “There was a county meeting in town they had to attend.”

She battled a brief depression. “I see.”

“Zack went to town, but he’s back now.”

Her spirits lifted. “He’s here? I thought he said something about having a room in town.”

“I think he’s afraid to leave you alone with me and the twins. We might be a dangerous bunch.”

She smiled at his teasing. “I find all of you charming,” she assured him.

“How did you get to Nevada?” he asked. “You said you hadn’t been out of California until three months ago.”

For a minute she couldn’t decide how much of her life to disclose. Adam said to always tell as much of the truth as possible to avoid getting tripped up later.

“I was part of a dance company, one that folded,” she quickly improvised. “I had to find another job right away, since my savings didn’t stretch to idle living.”

That much was true, but the history belonged to the first professional troupe she’d danced with.

“So working in the casino was a temporary thing while you looked for other work?” he questioned.

She could answer that without qualms. “Well, I hoped so. The competition for shows is tough in Vegas. After New York and Los Angeles, it’s a prime location for dancers, singers and comedians.”

“You must have been good to earn a position with a group from Los Angeles,” he concluded. “How many were in your dance company?”

“Twelve to fifteen, according to who was injured or off on other things, such as getting married or having babies. Like opera singers and celebrities, we’re scheduled for months, even years, in advance, so you have to work in your personal life where you can.”

“Sounds busy.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Do you miss it?” he asked.

A feeling like homesickness came over her. She missed the dancing. Not the excitement of an opening or the applause of the crowd or even the other dancers, but the music, the movement itself. Those had given her the sense of freedom her soul had craved during those years growing up in her aunt’s house. She stared at her clasped hands until the emotion dissolved.

“Some,” she admitted.

A shadow crossed the window. She recognized Zack’s rangy frame. He entered the front door, hung his hat and coat on a rack and greeted them.

“Another storm is brewing. It’s getting cold out there,” he said, pulling off his boots. He placed them neatly under the coatrack and padded over to the leather chair to the left of the sofa. “Did you sleep?”

“Yes, I did,” she murmured.

He gestured toward the doorway. “I’m going to raid the kitchen. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“Join me,” he invited.

He led the way and handed her a plate, took one for himself, then removed leftovers from the refrigerator. He heated her stuff in the microwave first, then his. They sat at a smaller table in the kitchen.

“Did Uncle Nick grill you?” he asked.

She quickly swallowed the bite she’d taken. “Sort of. He’s skillful at drawing a person out,” she added tactfully.

Zack chuckled, an attractive sound in the quiet kitchen. In the living room, the television added soft background noise to the ambiance of the house. She imagined Zack and his family gathered around the hearth, sharing their day and enjoying the safety from the cold outside.

“What?” he said suddenly.

She gazed at him. The question made no sense.

“You sighed,” he said. “Are you bored here?”

“Oh, no,” she assured him. “The mountains are lovely. And so is the house. And my bedroom.”

He nodded. “It’s my favorite place.”

Curiosity overcame her manners. “You and your brothers, how come there aren’t wives and children on the ranch? It seems the perfect spot to raise a family.”

“It is.” He studied her for a few seconds with those fathomless blue eyes. “So why are there only bachelors here? I guess we haven’t met the right mates. Except for Travis. He’s engaged. Actually, he was married once before, but his wife died in childbirth.”

“How terrible. When did it happen?”

“A couple of years ago. It was pretty awful, but this spring he met someone, so it worked out for him. Alison’s father is a politician and she’s helping the new campaign manager settle in, so they don’t have a lot of time together now. And she’s getting things together for the wedding—which Travis is happy to leave up to her—and then moving here afterward.”

“I see. Are any of your cousins married?”

“Not yet. Uncle Nick is getting worried. Seth is the oldest at thirty-three. I turned thirty last month. When is your birthday?”

“This month, the twenty-fifth,” she said without thinking.

“According to your aunt’s sworn statement.”

“That’s right.” She lifted her chin and dared him to call it a lie.

“Tink will be twenty-six in September.”

“If she’s still alive. I read that most kidnap victims, if not found within twenty-four hours, are usually…”

“Dead,” he finished coolly when she couldn’t say the word. “That’s true. It’s something we’ve had to consider. However, a body was never found, so that’s given us hope.”

“Yes, there is that.”

Zack watched Honey carefully, but he couldn’t tell what was on her mind. One minute she seemed infinitely sad, the next, almost defiant, as if she dared him to question her.

She was one of those mysteries wrapped in an enigma and tied up in a question mark. A big question mark.

He studied her blond hair with the dark roots, the light blue of her eyes, the paleness of her skin. She wasn’t the outdoors type, he surmised. Which meant she wasn’t his type, either.

Not that he’d done so great with his first choice, who had been a local girl.

But his wife had to be at home in the mountains. They might have a house in town, but they’d spend a lot of time out on the ranch. They would ride and roam the hills….

He reversed the direction his thoughts had taken. He wasn’t looking for a wife. No way.

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191 s. 3 illüstrasyon
ISBN:
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HarperCollins
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