The Sheriff's Second Chance

by Tanya Agler

  “Oh.” Her last word slipped out as her gaze landed on him, surprise and shock in the depths of her eyes.

  “Welcome to your senior prom, Georgie.” He stepped forward, corsage in hand, absorbing all of Georgie. If she chose to leave Hollydale for good, accepting her choice would be the hardest thing he’d ever done, even harder than saying goodbye to Grandpa Ted, harder than signing the divorce papers, harder than changing Rachel’s dressings. “The theme was A Night to Remember. Better late than never, right?”

  Because some things in life were worth the wait.

  “I’m underdressed.”

  She’d never looked more beautiful standing there. Her jeans and old sweatshirt, while not a typical outfit for a dance, suited her and them. He wouldn’t have cared if she’d shown up in rags or a designer dress. She was here. Mike closed the gap. “You’re you. You’re beautiful, inside and out. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He grinned and shrugged. “Once I was old enough to know my own mind.”

  She squinted at him, that old Georgie gleam back. “And when, pray tell, did this happen?”

  “When I saw a dog pulling my old best friend along on a blue leash. But it wasn’t until this past weekend Rachel made me realize it’s never too late to make a wrong right.” Emotion choked his words, and he held out the corsage. “For you.”

  “I warn you. I sometimes lead.” Her words came out sweeter than honey on his mother’s biscuits.

  He bit back a smile. Somehow, in spite of everything, he sensed she was on the way to forgiving him, all of him. The boy who stood her up all those years ago, the man who let go of the Thunderbird she lovingly restored and the man who arrested her.

  “We’ll take turns leading.” He winked and removed the corsage from the box. “Equals, Georgie. We’ll talk, we’ll fight, we’ll make up.”

  Rachel ran over, inserting herself between them. “Miss Georgie, I finished the book about Princess Alixandra. The end was the best. She and the dragon lived happily ever after.”

  Wait a minute. Was he the dragon here?

  Rachel turned to Mike, and she nudged his ribs. “Tell her how pretty she is. And remember what we talked about. Offer her money. Then maybe she’ll stay in Hollydale.”

  A confused look came over Georgie’s beautiful face. “Did Rachel have your phone this afternoon? Is she the one who offered me eighteen dollars for a house call to the gym?”

  He raised his eyebrows but chuckled anyway. “Let’s just say Rachel gave me some interesting pointers on what I should say to convince you to move back to Hollydale. I decided to go a different route.” Mike touched Rachel’s shoulder.

  Natalie scooted over and reached for her niece’s hand. “Hey, Rachel. Let’s give them a couple of minutes.” Natalie pulled on Rachel’s hand.

  His daughter was having none of it. “Miss Georgie, are you staying in Hollydale?”

  His heart fluttered.

  “Yes.” That might be the sweetest word he’d ever heard.

  Beaming, Rachel made a fist and brought it toward her in a victory motion. “Will you come to my house? I spent a couple of dollars, so I only have eighteen dollars left, but this time I need you to fix my daddy. He’s been awful cranky since Saturday.”

  “Rachel!” He and Natalie shouted at the same time.

  “Come on, my little matchmaking niece. We shall return.” Natalie pushed Rachel toward the girls’ locker room. “Later. Much later.”

  “What’s matchmaking? I want to stay.” Rachel’s protests could be heard until a door slammed in the background.

  The gym faded away, and there was only Georgie and him. He drank in the sight of her, her cheeks pink and her eyes twinkling.

  “You’re staying,” said Mike.

  She gave a single nod, and he lowered his lips to hers and tasted lemons and Georgie and love. She was in his arms, and he wouldn’t let go again.

  She deepened the kiss before breaking away and resting her head on his shoulder. Music began playing in the background, and they fell into a slow dance. “This week I went and packed up my old apartment and settled the lease. I also contacted Brett Cullinan, thanked him and made the other finalist for that job very happy. Max and I have agreed to terms. When I have a project I believe in, I’ll take it. Otherwise I’ll work with Max and Travis.”

  “You did all of this in one week?”

  “I could say the same.” She pointed at the gym, her wrist graced by the corsage.

  “Keeping a secret in Hollydale is rather difficult.” He pulled her back into his arms, their dance a reassurance she was really here and not going anywhere. “When I wasn’t planning this or at work, I’ve been swamped with election details. That was how I stayed relatively together this week. No more police or election talk.”

  “No, we have to get this out in the open. We have to learn to communicate. I was rather—” she paused and shrugged “—upset at your arresting me.”

  His heart constricted, and his hand stilled on her back. “Georgie, that’s part of me. Duty and protection and love. Everything my parents and you taught me over the years that I needed three kicks in the pants to understand.”

  She raised her finger to his lips and made a soft shushing sound. “I know, and that’s why I love the man you’ve become, Mike Harrison.”

  She still loved him. The world came back into focus. With Georgie at his side, sharing his life, loving him, everything would be all right. “I love you. That’s why I didn’t give you any notice about this. I wanted you to show up in the clothes you’re most comfortable in. To be yourself.”

  “A little notice would have been nice, though. I would have at least brushed my hair. And Lucie—I wonder where she went to—helped me pick out a beautiful dress for the Hollydale Hoedown.”

  He couldn’t help the goofy grin coming over him. “Tell you what. You can wear that dress to a special dinner one evening, and I’ll propose. How’s that sound?”

  A stunned look crossed her face, and the corners of her mouth lifted up. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  There’d be ups and downs, storms and sunshine, lemons and lemon meringue pie. But they’d weathered the storm, and his heart was whole again. She was home, and he’d hold her tight as they faced the road ahead together.

  * * *

  “YOU WEREN’T KIDDING. You like to lead, don’t you?” Mike brought Georgie back to their moment.

  She glanced at her feet, her sneakers having seen better days. “Old habits die hard. We’re equals. Sometimes you’ll lead, and sometimes I will. Sound good to you?”

  “Always.” He grinned, and how his smile lightened his face sent shivers down her spine.

  She’d made the right choice. This was the dream of her heart.

  A loud bark came from the entrance. The doors flew open, and Mattie, Lucie’s daughter, was holding on for dear life to Beau’s leash, her twin brother at her heels, arguing it was his turn. Lucie hurried behind as the flash of brown fur hurdled toward Georgie and Mike.

  “Beau!” Her dog jumped up, and she waggled her finger. “No jumping.”

  Beau swiped his tongue out and licked her finger before turning his attention toward Mike. She saw obedience lessons in this dog’s future, whether the dog liked it or not.

  “Beau? What are you doing here?” A note of puzzled amusement laced Mike’s words.

  “Mr. Reedy had to go into assisted living, so he asked me to take care of Beau.” Georgie knelt on the gym floor and petted the dog.

  Mike knelt beside her, his fingers bumping into hers when they both stroked Beau’s head. “That must have been hard on him. I know how much Mr. Reedy values his independence.”

  Their gazes met, the electricity heightened between them.

  Independence was great, he even liked that about her. But she’d realized she didn’t have to change her nature to let someone sh
are her life. Especially when it was the right someone.

  “I visited Mr. Reedy today. He’s already looking 100 percent better. Having someone else help with his load has been good for him.”

  Mike didn’t waver, his penetrating gaze shrewd and discerning. “What about you, Georgie? Will you let me share your load?”

  She smiled and nodded. “Beau’s a big commitment. I do love him—though not as much as I love a single father and his daughter.” Before anything else, he had to know the truth. “I have your cashier’s check for the Thunderbird.”

  “Can we call Quinn right now? Maybe if you offer to restore the first Thunderbird he can find...” His shoulders stiffened. “No, don’t. We’ll make our own memories and work on restoring a new car together.”

  “Um, Mike.” That quiver in her voice was too real, and his eyebrows knit into a V. “I cashed in the bonds my father left me, figuring I was accepting the pit crew job and wouldn’t need the money for the repair shop.”

  “Well, then. Max is probably happy with the money now.”

  She gave a slow shake of her head. No more running away. She’d learned her lesson. Talking to Mike, no matter how hard, always came first.

  “I bought the Thunderbird.”

  He blinked as if processing the information.

  She rushed onward. “I wanted it to stay with someone who knew your grandfather, someone who loved the car and his family as much as he did.”

  Mike rubbed his index finger along her cheek. “You did that for me?” He moved forward, and Beau scooted out of the way. Mike’s lips met hers in the sweetest kiss. It was as if Mike poured his thanks, his soul, himself into it. He broke away. “Your choice. Do you want me to tear up the check or do you want to be the proud owner of the best Thunderbird ever?”

  The truth hit her smack in the face. “I want to keep the car in the family.”

  He chuckled, rose and reached out his hands to help her off the ground. “Did you just propose to me, Georgie Bennett, to get out of wearing a dress to dinner?”

  She blinked before lifting her chin. “I might have.”

  “Georgie Harrison. I like the sound of that.”

  She groaned and hit her forehead with the bottom of her hand. “I’ll have the same name as one of the Beatles, for crying out loud.”

  “But you’ll have Rachel and Beau. I might be able to persuade Ginger to share me with you. Most likely.” He tapped three of his fingers against his chin. “By the way, my answer is yes.” He grinned and winked. “Don’t make me wait too long.”

  He fluttered his eyelashes, and her laughter filled the air. The road to Hollydale had been long, but there was nowhere else she’d rather be. He wound his arms around her, pulling her close so she could smell sandalwood, shampoo and Mike. Now there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

  EPILOGUE

  GEORGIE AND MIKE bounced down the gazebo steps, where they’d just said their “I dos.” She glanced over at the Thunderbird. Several strings with attached cans paraded behind its bumper. Shouts from the crowd surrounded them. One lone woof announced Beau’s presence. Seeing her dog in a bow tie broadened her already wide smile.

  Mr. Reedy, his oxygen canister in place, gave them two thumbs up. Natalie, a pregnant Becks, and the Harrisons beamed from Mike’s side. Everywhere were faces she’d come to love since she’d moved back to Hollydale. Max flanked by his sister and Heidi and Travis; Lucie and her twins; her new stepdaughter, Rachel. Her heart filled with happiness at sharing this day with so many friends and family.

  Her mother stepped forward, tears glittering in the winter sunlight gracing the afternoon. “Your father would be so proud of you.” She wiped the corner of her eye with a lacy handkerchief. “Thank you for insisting on counseling and for including me. I’m proud of you.”

  The counselor had urged baby steps for their relationship. Mom’s restraint today was a huge leap forward. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Throw the bouquet!”

  “Throw the garter first!”

  Laughter poured out of her. She turned to Mike and waggled her eyebrows. “Hey, Sheriff, you up for throwing the garter first?”

  “Bring it on.”

  From behind, Rachel snorted. “Everyone’s crazy. The cake’s the best part.”

  Mike leaned toward Georgie, a sly chuckle brushing the sensitive part of her skin near her ear. “Not the best part. That comes later.”

  Heat flushed her cheeks. Georgie yelled, “Garter, then bouquet.”

  She stepped over to a stone bench and pulled up her dress enough for the garter to show. White sneakers covered with hearts drawn in red marker graced her feet. Several people gasped, but Mike’s smile grew even wider.

  “The bride wore sneakers.” He laughed, a rich, robust sound that sent her heart overflowing with more love. “Just when I didn’t think I could love you any more, you surprise me by being totally Georgie. Don’t ever stop being yourself. I’m the luckiest man in Hollydale.”

  “I helped. The red hearts were my idea.” Rachel nodded her head for emphasis. “I’m glad you’re my stepmother now, Miss Georgie.”

  “I couldn’t be happier.”

  Lace and tennis shoes. Ginger and Beau. Engines and a sheriff’s badge. She and Mike. Pairs that shouldn’t go together but did captured her essence to a T. If she hadn’t come back to Hollydale, she wouldn’t have discovered any of that. She wouldn’t have reconnected with herself.

  She was home, and she was happy. The road here had been bumpy, but with Mike, the road ahead would be navigated with purpose, laughter and love. He squeezed her hand. She’d made the right choice, the only choice, living her dreams with Mike and love at her side.

  * * *

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  Lassoed by the Would-Be Rancher

  by Melinda Curtis

  PROLOGUE

  WHEN FRANNY BOUCHARD was ten, there were three things she loved completely.

  Sunny, her horse, who was the best cutting horse her father had ever trained, plus the most beautiful creature on the planet.

  Kyle Clark, who was two years older than she was and had come over to her family’s ranch the previous spring to help move cattle from the winter grazing pastures to the ranch proper. She’d beat him at the county-fair roping competition, and he’d bought her and his sister, Emily, ice cream to celebrate. He hadn’t cared that he’d been beaten by a girl. Franny was going to marry that boy one day.

  And stories. Franny loved stories. Scary stories, stories about aliens, westerns, Nancy Drew mysteries. Whatever books she could get her hands on, she read. And when she’d been allowed to go on her first cattle drive, she’d been ecstatic to learn that at night the adults sat around the campfire and told tales.

  One particular night, Gertie Clark had promised to tell a story about Merciless Mike Moody, who was Second Chance, Idaho’s very own bandit.

  Franny shrugged deeper into her jacket, shivering more from excitement than the high mountain cold. Dinner had been eaten. Horses taken care of.
The cattle were mostly quiet. The Clarks and the Bouchards gathered around the large fire beneath a blanket of bright stars.

  “Granny Gertie.” Emily sat next to Franny on a log. “Do we have to hear about Merciless Mike again?” She turned to Franny, rolling her eyes. “She tells that one all the time at home.”

  “But I never get to hear it,” Franny said quickly. Well, except for the few times she’d spent the night at Emily’s house. But that wasn’t the same as hearing a story of the Old West while camping out on the high plains.

  “It’s got to be Merciless Mike.” Gertie sat in her husband’s lap. She may have been a grandmother, but she wasn’t shy about public displays of affection. “You can’t come out along the stage route and not talk about the brassiest bandit in the Idaho Territory.”

  “You can talk all you want,” Franny’s father said, giving Franny a stern look. “Just remember it’s a myth.”

  Gertie and Percy laughed. Those two laughed a lot.

  And then Gertie got down to business, turning to Kyle and the two girls. “Some say Mike Moody grew up back east, a dandy of sorts. Others, like me, believe he was raised on a farm outside of Boise, dirt-poor and envious of anyone better off than he was.” Gertie’s shoulder-length gray hair gleamed silvery red in the firelight. “When Mike was about Kyle’s age, his parents decided he’d had enough schooling and told him he’d be working the farmstead full-time.”

  Franny spared a glance to her father, who was drinking a beer and staring into the fire. As an only child, she’d been told the Silver Spur would be hers one day. Some days she felt as if her father expected her to take over the ranch sooner rather than later. Just this morning, he’d made her rope strays instead of letting her horse Sunny funnel them back to the herd. Last week she’d had to go along with her dad while he mended fences, which would have been fine if he was a talker or a storyteller, like Gertie Clark.

  “And then Mike got in over his head and pulled the trigger.” While Franny’s thoughts had wandered, Gertie’s tale had progressed from Mike leaving the farm to him becoming an outlaw. “And he ran to this valley. Made himself a hideout in the mountains, where he could see the law, a passing stage or pony-express rider.”