The Deputy's Redemption

by Delores Fossen

  A Texas lawman risks his future to protect a woman from his past in USA TODAY bestselling author Delores Fossen’s latest Sweetwater Ranch book.

  The woman fleeing a cold-blooded killer is no stranger to Deputy Colt McKinnon. Fourteen years ago, Elise Nichols was the love of his life. Now she’s back in Sweetwater Springs—to be the star witness in an upcoming murder trial that could tear the Texas lawman’s family apart.

  With her explosive revelations certain to rock the town, Elise didn’t expect to be welcomed home with open arms. Certainly not by the cowboy with the badge who once meant everything to her. But after being run off the road and shot at, she has no choice but to trust him. Even more dangerous is the desire that’s reigniting, making Elise yearn for something she may not live to see.

  She’d been attracted to Colt since she was old enough to feel attraction, and apparently that hadn’t changed one bit. If anything, that kiss had made it a heck of a lot worse.

  Mercy, he’d gotten even better at this since they were teenagers. Not that she’d expected anything less. With those hot cowboy looks, he’d no doubt had a lot of practice. That thought was something to cool the heat down just a bit.

  She definitely didn’t want to be another notch on Colt’s bedpost.

  Yes, they’d made out before, but they’d never gone further. Elise figured it was a good idea if that remained true. And the best way for that to happen was for the kiss to stop.

  He pulled back, his gaze snapping to hers, then lowering right back to her mouth. “That was a mistake.”

  Then, he dropped another of those scalding kisses on her mouth. He cursed some more, backed away from her. “And it’s also proof of why I need to put you in someone else’s protective custody.”

  THE DEPUTY’S

  REDEMPTION

  USA TODAY Bestselling Author

  Delores Fossen

  Delores Fossen, a USA TODAY bestselling author, has sold over fifty novels with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award and the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, and was a finalist for a prestigious RITA® Award. You can contact the author through her webpage at dfossen.net.

  Books by Delores Fossen

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  Sweetwater Ranch Series

  Maverick Sheriff

  Cowboy Behind the Badge

  Rustling Up Trouble

  Kidnapping in Kendall County

  The Deputy’s Redemption

  The Lawmen of Silver Creek Ranch Series

  Grayson

  Dade

  Nate

  Kade

  Gage

  Mason

  Josh

  Sawyer

  Visit the Author Profile page at

  Harlequin.com for more titles

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Deputy Colt McKinnon—He must protect witness Elise Nichols from a hired gun even though Elise’s testimony could tear his family apart and send his father to jail for murder.

  Elise Nichols—Ten years ago, she left Colt behind for a city life that she thought she wanted. Now, she’s back in Sweetwater Springs, and Colt is the only thing standing between her and a killer.

  Jewell McKinnon—Colt’s mother who’s in jail awaiting trial for murder.

  Robert Joplin—Jewell’s lawyer. He would do anything to clear her name.

  Buddy Jorgensen—Elise’s former tenant. He’s upset with her return to Sweetwater Springs and might be trying to send her running.

  Meredith Darrow—A businesswoman who could be facing jail time because of a background investigation that Elise did on her.

  Leo Darrow—Meredith’s brother. He has a criminal record and might be helping his sister get back at Elise.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Deputy Colt McKinnon caught the blur of motion from the corner of his eye.

  He hit the brakes, not hard, because there was likely some ice on the road, and he pulled his truck to a stop on the gravel shoulder.

  There.

  He saw it again.

  Someone wearing light-colored clothes was darting in and out of the trees. Since it was below freezing and nearly ten at night, it wasn’t a good time for someone to be jogging.

  Colt took a flashlight from the glove compartment and got out, sliding his hand over the gun in his belt holster, and he tried to pick through the darkness to see what was going on. Thankfully, there was a full moon, and he got another glimpse of the person.

  A woman.

  She was running and not just an ordinary run, either. She was in a full sprint as if her life depended on it.

  Colt hurried down the embankment toward her to see if anything or anybody was chasing her. There were coyotes in the woods, but he’d never heard of a pack going after a human. However, before he could see much of anything else, the woman ducked behind a tree.

  “I have a gun!” she shouted.

  Ah, hell.

  He instantly recognized the voice. Elise Nichols. A voice he darn sure didn’t want to hear at all, much less her yelling about having a gun.

  Her house was a good five miles from here, definitely not close by enough for her to be on foot. So what in the Sam Hill was she doing running in the woods in the middle of the night?

  “It’s me—Colt,” he said, just in case she thought he was a stranger.

  “I know exactly who you are.” Her voice was loud but very shaky. “And I have a gun.”

  “So do I,” he snarled, and Colt drew it to prove his point.

  Colt hadn’t exactly expected a warm, friendly greeting from Elise, but he hadn’t thought she was to the point of threatening to do him bodily harm.

  “What the heck are you running from?” he asked.

  She didn’t jump to answer. The only sounds were the February wind rattling through the bare tree branches and his heartbeat pumping like pistons in his ears.

  “I’m running from you,” she finally answered.

  Colt jerked back his shoulders. That sure wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Nor did it make a lick of sense.

  “I’m a deputy sheriff of Sweetwater Springs,” he reminded Elise just in case she was drunk or had gone off the deep end and couldn’t remember what was common knowledge around these parts.

  And he reminded her also because her comment riled him.

  “People generally don’t feel the need to run from me,” he added with a syrupy sweetness that she would know wasn’t the least bit genuine.

  “They’d run if you were trying to kill them.”

  He tried not to let his mouth drop open, but it was close. “And you think that’s what I’m trying to do to you?”

  “I know you are. You ran me off the road about fifteen minutes ago.”

  He glanced around, didn’t see another vehicle. But there was a road not too far away, and it would have been the one Elise would likely take to get to and from her place located just outside town. It was possible someone had sideswiped her and maybe she’d hit her head during the collision. That was the only explanation he could think of for a fish story like that one.

&
nbsp; “Come out so I can see you,” Colt told her, “and I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

  She didn’t answer.

  Didn’t move, either.

  Fed up with Elise herself, her story, the butt-freezing night and this entire crazy situation, Colt huffed. “Get out here!” he ordered.

  “Right. So you can kill me,” she accused. “Then I can’t testify at your mother’s trial.”

  Good grief. Colt figured that subject would come up sooner or later. But he hadn’t expected it to come up like this, with Elise accusing him of trying to kill her. His mother, Jewell, was the one about to stand trial for murdering her lover twenty-three years ago.

  And Elise would be the key witness for the defense.

  That alone was plenty bad enough because Colt figured his mom had indeed killed the guy. Anything that Elise would say in Jewell’s defense could be a lie at best, and at worst it could tear his family to pieces.

  Because Elise was expected to testify that not Jewell but rather Colt’s father, Roy, had committed the murder.

  No way would Colt or his brothers let that happen.

  His father wasn’t going to pay for Jewell’s sins.

  But there was also no way Colt would murder a witness to stop that testimony from happening. The badge he wore wasn’t for decoration. He believed in the law. Believed that his mother, and Elise, would get what was coming to them.

  Without his help.

  “Come on out here,” he repeated. “You probably got sideswiped by a drunk or something.”

  “A drunk driving a truck identical to yours,” she countered.

  That sent a bristle up his spine, and that bristly feeling went up a significant notch when Elise finally stepped out. He didn’t see a gun, but from her stance, she looked as if she were challenging him to a gunfight in an Old West showdown.

  “Call the county sheriff or the Texas Rangers,” she insisted. “I know they won’t try to kill me.”

  Colt huffed again and turned the flashlight on her. He prayed she didn’t do something stupid and pull the trigger of the weapon that she claimed she was holding. It was a risk, but he figured Elise was only a liar and not a killer like his mother.

  He moved the light over her face and then her body. She was wearing a pale blue coat and a stocking cap, but wisps of her light brown hair were flying in the wind and snapping against her face like little bullwhips.

  And yeah, she had a gun.

  Pointed right at him.

  That didn’t help his racing heartbeat. Nor did the white-knuckle grip she had on the weapon. There were a lot of nerves showing in that grip.

  “Put down the gun,” Colt insisted.

  “Call the county sheriff,” she insisted right back.

  Neither moved. Colt certainly didn’t turn to make that call, but somehow he had to convince Elise to surrender her weapon. And he didn’t want to have to wait the forty-five minutes or so that it would take the county sheriff to get out here.

  “It’s not like when we were kids, huh?” Elise said. The corner of her mouth lifted, but it wasn’t a smile. “We used to play cops and robbers with toy guns. You were always the cop. I was the bad guy. Remember?”

  In too perfect detail. Once, way too many years ago, Elise had been his best friend. The first girl that he’d kissed. Okay, she’d been his first love.

  But he darn sure didn’t feel that way about her now.

  Hadn’t felt that way in a long time, either. He wanted to ring her neck for trying to drag his dad into the middle of this murder trial mess.

  Colt drew in a long, weary breath. “Look, can we just have a truce? Besides, you really do need to see a doctor. If you were run off the road, you could have bumped your head.”

  She touched her fingertips to her temple, just beneath the edge of the stocking cap, and Colt was stunned to see the dark liquid.

  Blood.

  That did it. He cursed and walked toward her. Colt lowered his gun to his side, just so she’d feel less threatened, but it was clear she was injured and needed help. Even if she didn’t want that help from him.

  Elise didn’t lower her gun, however, and she backed up with each step he took. Colt kept watch to make sure her finger didn’t move on the trigger. It didn’t. And when he got close enough to her, he dropped the flashlight and snatched the gun from her hand.

  He expected her to try to get it back. Or curse him for taking it, but she turned and ran.

  Hell.

  Not this.

  He really didn’t want to be chasing an injured woman through the woods at night, but Elise was the job now. She’d become that when she’d accused him of attempted murder and pointed the gun at him.

  Colt shoved her gun in the back waist of his jeans, grabbed the flashlight and took off after her. For a woman with a bloody head and dazed mind, she ran pretty fast, and it took him several moments to catch up with her. He snagged her by the shoulder, spun her around and pinned her against a tree.

  It didn’t put them in the best position. They were now body to body and breathing hard. But at least she wouldn’t be running anywhere.

  Colt reholstered his gun so he could use the flashlight to get a look at her head. Yep, there was an angry-looking gash at least two inches long. Not a lot of blood, but she would have taken a hard lick to get that kind of injury.

  “Did you hit your head when you went off the road?” he demanded.

  She opened her mouth. Closed it. “I’m not sure.” Her eyes were wide. Startled. But Colt couldn’t tell if it was because she was still afraid of him or because of her injuries.

  “The air bag deployed,” she said a moment later. “The windshield broke.”

  So, something could have come through the glass and smacked her. “What happened then?”

  Her mouth started to tremble, but she clamped her teeth over it. She also met him eye to eye, nudged him several inches away from her and hiked up her chin. No doubt trying to look a lot stronger than she felt.

  Yeah, that was Elise.

  “After I crashed, I heard someone get out of the truck,” Elise finally answered. “The man was armed. Dressed like you.”

  Her gaze drifted from his Stetson to his buckskin coat. And lower. To his jeans and boots.

  His uniform for this time of year.

  “Exactly like you,” she added.

  “Plenty of people around here dress like me.” Well, except for the badge. “Plenty of people drive trucks, too. In the dark most trucks look the same.”

  There was no indication whatsoever that she believed anything he was saying. Elise just kept staring at him as if trying to piece things together. But Colt figured that was better worked out at the hospital after a doctor had examined her.

  Of course, he’d have to file a report. Of course. And he’d have to say that a witness in an upcoming murder trial had accused him of doing her bodily harm. He wasn’t looking forward to having to explain himself, especially when he’d done nothing wrong. Still, that was part of the job, too.

  “Come on.” This time Colt hooked his arm around Elise’s waist and got her moving. He was thankful when she didn’t resist. Or collapse. Though she suddenly looked ready to do just that.

  “I’ll drop you off at the hospital,” he explained, “and then come back and have a look at your car. Where exactly did you go off the road?”

  “Just a few yards from Miller’s Creek. I crashed into the guardrail.”

  He knew the exact spot and winced. That creek was deep and icy this time of year. If her car had gone over, then she might have gotten a lot more than just a bloody gash on her head. She could have drowned or died from exposure, especially since there likely wouldn’t have been anyone to come along and rescue her.

  He leaned in to smell her breath. No scent of booze. But she did scowl and shoved her elbow against him to get him out of her face.

  “I’m not drunk,” she grumbled. “Or crazy. I know what happened, and I know what I saw.”

  Ye
s, and sometimes what a person saw wasn’t the truth. But Colt kept that to himself. No sense getting in an argument about this particular incident.

  Or the trial.

  Though he was positive Elise hadn’t seen what she thought she’d seen all those years ago, either.

  “So, you crashed into the guardrail,” he repeated while he continued to lead her to his truck. “What happened then?”

  She took a deep breath. Paused. “I managed to bat down the air bag, and I got out on the passenger’s side. I just started running.”

  Colt was about to remind her that she could have run for no reason. But he didn’t get a chance to say anything.

  The slash of lights stopped him.

  Since the road was only twenty yards or so away, it wasn’t unusual for a vehicle to come this way. But Elise obviously didn’t feel the same.

  “Oh, God.” She turned and pulled him behind one of the trees. Elise also reached down and turned off his flashlight.

  Colt kept his attention on the truck. It was indeed the same model and color as his. And it wasn’t going at a normal speed. It was inching closer as if the driver was looking for something.

  Probably Elise.

  And not for the killer-reasons that she believed but maybe the driver was trying to find her to make sure she was okay.

  Still, Colt stayed put. Watching. Waiting. Wondering if he, too, had lost his bloomin’ mind to hide behind a tree instead of just trying to have a chat with whoever was behind that steering wheel.

  Next to him, Elise’s breath was gusting now, and she had her hand clamped on his left arm like a vise. Every part of her was shaking.

  The truck pulled just ahead of Colt’s. Stopped. And the automatic window eased down. It was too dark for him to see inside, but he could just make out the silhouette of a driver. A man, from the looks of it.

  The driver turned off his headlights.

  That didn’t help the prickly feeling down Colt’s spine.

  Nor did the other thing he saw.

  He stepped from his truck, taking slow cautious steps while he looked at the ground.

  And the man was carrying a gun.

  Chapter Two

  Oh, God. The man was back, and he would no doubt try to kill her again.