The Texas Lawman's Woman

Home > Romance > The Texas Lawman's Woman > Page 20
The Texas Lawman's Woman Page 20

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  “I love you, too, Shelley,” he told her huskily, his happiness mirroring her own. “So very much.” He paused to kiss her again, and then looked deeply into her eyes. “Which is why I want us to take a step back and take our time getting to know each other again. Because this time, Shelley, I don’t want to make any mistakes.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her until she kissed him back with all her heart.

  “This time,” he promised her tenderly, “I want us to build something that will last the rest of our lives.”

  Epilogue

  One year later...

  “Are you sure you know what to do?” Patricia Wilson asked Colt as he and his groomsmen stood in the anteroom of the Laramie Community Chapel.

  Colt winked at the wedding planner, aware he’d never been more sure of anything in his life. He drawled, “After two rehearsals, I think Shelley and I’ve both got it down pat.”

  Patricia frowned at his boutonniere. “You only had one rehearsal as bride and groom. In the other you were standing in for Kendall and Gerry.” Her eyes narrowed in disapproval. “And your bow tie is crooked.”

  “I’ve got it,” a soft, feminine voice insisted.

  Everyone turned to see Shelley gliding in the door.

  Patricia gasped in dismay. “Shelley! For heaven’s sake!” She threw up her hands so suddenly she nearly dropped her clipboard. “What are you doing here?”

  Shelley sashayed toward Colt, a vision in white satin and lace, a tiara perched on her upswept auburn hair. “I want a word with my groom.”

  Patricia appeared ready to faint. “But Colt’s not supposed to see you until you walk down the aisle!”

  Shelley beamed up at Colt, an alluring glint of mischief sparkling in her pretty eyes. “I think we’ll both survive the faux pas.” Determined as ever, Shelley turned him in the direction she wanted him to go. “We’ll be right back.” Slipping her hand in his, she tugged him into the choir room across the hall.

  “Where are Austin and Buddy?” Colt asked.

  Shelley shut the door firmly, a dazzling smile on her face. “With Liz and the other bridesmaids.” She glided toward him again, in a drift of silk and incredibly feminine perfume, not stopping until she was just short of him. “And your bow tie really is crooked, Colt.” Her hands came up to adjust it. “I think your boutonniere could use a little straightening, too.”

  Loving the way she took care of him, he waited until she had finished, then caught her hand and pressed it against his heart. “Damned if you aren’t the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” he murmured reverently. To the point, he couldn’t stop gazing at her. Couldn’t stop wanting her. Would never ever stop cherishing her with all his heart and soul. He linked his arms about her waist, drew her as close as her poufy skirt would allow. “You take my breath away. You know that?”

  Happiness sparkled in her smile. “I have an inkling.” She rose on tiptoe, wreathed her arms about his neck, and pressed her lips to his. “Because you do the exact same thing to me, Colt McCabe.”

  Their lips met in the tenderest of kisses. “So what’s this about?” he asked when they finally drew apart.

  Her eyes turned misty with emotion. “I just wanted to make sure you knew how very much I love you.”

  Colt never tired of hearing her confess what was in her heart. “I do. And for the record, I love you like crazy, too.”

  They gazed into each other’s eyes.

  “This day has been a long time coming,” Shelley whispered.

  Colt caressed her cheek with his thumb. “With good reason. This time I wanted to do everything right.”

  “And we have.”

  They’d had a proper courtship, with tons of romance. And lots of time to plan for their big day.

  Her dance classes were filled to capacity. Austin had grown into a fiercely affectionate and independent three-and-a-half-year-old. At thirteen, Buddy was defying the statistics and still going strong.

  Even Colt’s house had sold the first week on the market. There was literally nothing standing in their way of setting up housekeeping together, at long last.

  Except one thing.

  Colt kissed the top of her head. As reluctant as he was to let her go, he knew he had no choice. “You better head back to your place, otherwise we’ll never get married today.”

  Shelley sighed, looking as contented as he felt. “You promise you’ll be waiting for me when I come up the aisle?”

  “I’ll do you one better. I promise I’ll be there the rest of our lives.” He bent his head and kissed her again, passionately this time.

  Shelley slipped out of the room and circled around to the entrance of the church.

  Colt and the groomsmen walked out to stand beside the minister. The music started.

  Buddy and Austin marched up the aisle, side by side, looking adorable as all get-out.

  The bridesmaids followed, one at a time.

  Finally, it was Shelley’s turn.

  Just like a princess out of a fairy tale, she floated up the aisle, bouquet in hand, looking more radiant than he had ever seen her. As she came toward him, Colt took her hand. They stood in front of the minister, joyously said their vows. And stepped into the future as their life as husband and wife began.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Cowboy for Keeps by Cathy McDavid!

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin American Romance story.

  You love small towns and cowboys! Harlequin American Romance stories are heartwarming contemporary tales of everyday women finding love, becoming part of a family or community—or maybe starting a family of her own.

  Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin American Romance every month!

  Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.

  We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com

  Subscribe to our newsletter for special offers, new releases, and more!

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Chapter One

  The tie choked worse than a pair of hands around his neck.

  Conner Durham yanked at the knot, loosening the tie, and then ripped it off altogether. He flung the offensive garment onto the passenger seat beside him, where his rumpled suit jacket already lay. The interview, his third with this particular company, had been a complete and utter waste of time.

  He wasn’t getting the job; the hiring manager had said as much before dismissing him with the dreaded “Thanks, we’ll be in touch.”

  Turning his truck onto the long drive leading to Powell Ranch, Conner slowed his speed to the posted ten miles an hour. He’d have to find a different way to vent his frustration other than pressing his pedal to the metal.

  Maybe he’d take Dos Rojo out, work the young gelding in the arena. He and the mustang, named for his distinctive red coloring, were still ironing out the kinks in their relationship, deciding who was in charge. So far, they were even, with Dos Rojo coming out ahead some days, Conner on others.

  Driving past the main horse barn, he headed for his quarters, a four-hundred-square-foot efficiency apartment. Hard to believe a mere six months ago he’d owned a five-bedroom house and spent money as if it did indeed grow on trees.

  No more, and not again in the foreseeable future, unless his luck drastically changed.

  Luck, the lack of it, had to
be the reason he couldn’t find a decent job. It certainly wasn’t his qualifications. According to the one-in-twenty prospective employers who’d bothered to contact him after receiving his résumé, he had qualifications coming out his ears. Usually more than the job required.

  Little did they know Conner was already downplaying his education and experience in order to make himself more hirable.

  Inside the apartment, he swapped the rest of his dress clothes for a well-worn work shirt and jeans. Threading his belt through the loops, he fastened the gold buckle. It was one of his most cherished possessions and proclaimed him Arizona State Champion in steer wrestling. He’d won the buckle in college, before abandoning his cowboy ways in order to earn double MBAs and make his mark in corporate America.

  Which he did, for six years, only to fall victim to a massive layoff and departmental downsizing. In the five minutes it took Human Resources to inform Conner that his good pal and fellow manager would take over his position and absorb the few remaining members left on Conner’s team, his entire life had changed.

  A knock sounding on the door provided a welcome distraction. Another minute and Conner might have started feeling sorry for himself.

  Yeah, right. Who was he kidding?

  “Door’s open,” he called, pulling on his boots and standing.

  “You decent?” Gavin Powell, Conner’s lifelong friend and current boss, barged inside. His glance went straight to the sleeping area, where Conner stood in front of the haphazardly made bed. “Good, you’re ready.”

  “You need something done?”

  Instead of answering, Gavin sniffed around the kitchen counter.

  “Hungry?”

  “I missed lunch. How’d the interview g—”

  “Don’t ask.” Conner strolled into the kitchen, adjusting his Stetson till it fit snugly on his head. “You live in a house full of people. Didn’t one of them fix you some food?”

  “Sage and the baby are taking a nap, since someone kept us up last night, crying. Dad’s down with the flu. Between laundry and helping the girls with their homework, the afternoon got away from me. Do you have any idea how many papers parents are expected to read and sign? Three, just for Isa to go on a field trip.”

  Last spring, Gavin and Sage had married, joining them and their two daughters, each from a previous relationship, into one big happy family. Now they had a two-month-old son, making their family even bigger and happier.

  “Never mind,” he complained. “I’ll grab some crackers in the office. Which, by the way, is where I need you to be in an hour.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I finally hired a photographer. She’s meeting with us at four-thirty.”

  “Us?” Conner quirked a brow.

  “You heard right. I need someone to act as a guide. Who knows the story of Prince and is familiar enough with these mountains to lead a day ride. You’re the only one I can spare fitting that description.”

  Conner didn’t argue. He owed Gavin for the roof over his head and the food on his table. Literally. If Gavin hadn’t rescued him a few months ago, when his severance pay ran out, he might now be living in his truck.

  “What about Dos Rojo?” Conner asked. “I want to work him in the arena before the equestrian drill team arrives for their practice.”

  “Then I guess you’d better get started.”

  They parted ways on the porch. As Conner crossed the open area and headed toward the horse barn, the many changes occurring at the ranch during the last two years struck him anew. His own apartment was once a bunkhouse, back in the days when the Powells had owned and operated a thriving cattle business. The smaller of the two horse barns had been expanded to include stud quarters for Prince, the Powells’ pride and joy. And the cattle barn, now a mare motel, housed the many horses brought to the ranch to breed with Prince.

  Like Conner, Thunder Ranch and the Powells had suffered a grave financial setback, a combination of the economic downturn, loss of their range and encroaching housing developments.

  Unlike Conner, the Powells had bounced back, thanks in large part to Prince, a stallion Gavin had discovered roaming free in the nearby McDowell Mountain Preserve. More significant perhaps, the Powells had adapted, turning what remained of their cattle ranch into Scottsdale’s most successful public riding stable.

  “Hey, boy.”

  Dos Rojo eyed Conner warily as he approached the stall. The mustang needed an attitude adjustment if he expected to continue living the cushy life of a working ranch horse. Otherwise, he might end up back where he’d come from at the Bureau of Land Management’s facility in Show Low, his fate uncertain and, though Conner didn’t like thinking about it, possibly doomed.

  Not entirely unlike his own fate.

  He was determined that the horse remain at Powell Ranch, just as he was determined to find another job.

  “Let’s go, boy.”

  They spent forty minutes in the arena, Conner putting Dos Rojo through his paces on a lunge line. When they’d finished, he walked out the horse and gave his coat a good brushing before returning him to his stall. To his delight, Dos Rojo sniffed Conner’s hat and nudged his arm as he latched the stall door.

  “I agree.” He patted the horse’s neck. “Good workout. Maybe next time we’ll try getting a saddle blanket on you.”

  There were many things Conner had liked about his former job. The challenges he regularly faced and overcame, the sense of accomplishment, the respect and admiration of his peers and superiors, greeting every new day with purpose.

  To be honest, he also found some of those same rewards working for Gavin.

  It wasn’t enough, however.

  The ranch office was located in the barn, beside the tack and storage rooms. As he neared, he could hear voices, Gavin’s and a woman’s.

  Conner’s steps faltered, and then stopped altogether. It couldn’t be her! He must be mistaken.

  The laughter, light and musical, struck a too familiar chord.

  His hands involuntarily clenched. Gavin wouldn’t blindside him like this. He’d assured Conner weeks ago that Dallas Sorrenson had declined their request to work on the book about Prince due to a schedule conflict. Her wedding, Conner had assumed.

  And yet there was no mistaking that laughter, which drifted again through the closed office door.

  He contemplated turning around, then thought better of it. Whatever Gavin required of him, he’d do. He owed his friend that much.

  Still, a warning would have been nice.

  With an arm that suddenly weighed a hundred pounds, he grasped the knob, pushed the door open and entered the office.

  Dallas turned immediately and greeted him with a huge smile. The kind of bright, sexy smile that had most men—Conner included—angling for the chance to get near her.

  Except she was married, or soon to be married. He couldn’t remember the date.

  And her husband, or husband-to-be, was Conner’s former coworker and pal. The same man who’d taken over Conner’s department. Supervised his employees. Expanded his office into Conner’s old space.

  The man whose life remained perfect while Conner’s had taken a nosedive.

  “It’s so good to see you again!” Dallas came toward him.

  He reached out his hand to shake hers. “Hey, Dallas.”

  She ignored his hand and wound her arms loosely around his neck for a friendly hug. Against his better judgment, Conner folded her in his embrace and drew h
er close. She smelled like spring flowers and felt like every man’s fantasy. Then again, she always had.

  Richard was one lucky guy to snare a woman like her.

  And, like a fool, Conner had made it easy for him.

  She drew slowly back and assessed him in that interested way old friends do after not seeing each other for a while. “How have you been?”

  Rather than state the obvious, that he was still looking for a job and just managing to survive, he answered, “Fine. How ’bout yourself?”

  “Great.”

  She looked as happy as she sounded. Flushed—no, glowing, her brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. She’d swept her brunette hair, shorter than when he’d seen her last month, off her face with a colorful band.

  Conner could be mistaken, but he thought she might have put on a little weight. It looked good, giving her curves in all the right places.

  Married life obviously agreed with her.

  “I thought you turned down the photography job.” He tried not to stare, dimly aware that he’d interrupted Gavin.

  His friend shot him an impatient look. “Like I was saying, Dallas’s calendar unexpectedly cleared. She called me last night and volunteered to take the pictures, if we still needed someone, which we do.”

  She broke out in that incredible smile again.

  Conner’s heart disregarded his brain’s directive and beat triple time.

  This had to stop. She was taken, and Conner didn’t trespass on another man’s territory, even when he disliked the guy.

  He needed to get a grip on himself, and fast. How could he expect to work with her otherwise?

  The coffee-table-style book, in the planning stages for months, would chronicle the life of Prince, beginning with his capture, to his success as a stud horse, as well as tell the story of the mustang sanctuary, from its inception to today. All profits from the sale of the book would go toward funding the sanctuary and raising awareness of the plight of wild mustangs.

 

‹ Prev