Cavanaugh Cowboy
Page 1
A killer in a sleepy Texas town?
A Cavanaugh Justice romance
Worn-out homicide detective Sullivan Cavanaugh’s looking for some peace and quiet in Forever, Texas. But once Sully meets feisty ranch foreman Rachel “Rae” Mulcahy, it’s clear that quiet isn’t in the cards. Especially when one of Rae’s wranglers turns up dead. Can Rae and Sully outrace the killer to crack the case—and could Sully’s stint in Forever be one for keeps?
“I have a right to know,” she said.
“Are you sure about that?”
“I said it, didn’t I?” Rae uttered the words like a challenge and tossed her head, sending her hair flying over her shoulder.
Sully inclined his head, a hint of a smile slowly making its way across his lips.
“That you did,” he agreed.
It felt as if time had suddenly stopped, the moment freezing around the only two people who were in the room. For now, the only two people in the world. Then, when time finally began to thaw out, everything that happened from then on did so in crystal clear slow motion.
Even her heart had stopped. And then, when it began to beat again, it wasn’t hammering wildly; it beat to some lyrical rhythm that she wasn’t aware of ever having heard before. She was aware of it now. Very aware of it. Very aware of him.
And very aware of his lips when they finally came down on hers.
* * *
Be sure to check out the next books in this exciting miniseries:
Cavanaugh Justice—Where Aurora’s finest are always in action
* * *
If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you think of Harlequin Romantic Suspense! #harlequinromsuspense
Dear Reader,
My beloved editor and I decided to try something new this time around (actually, it was her idea and I said, “Sure”). What you have before you is a melding of the Cavanaugh Justice series and the Forever, Texas series. You get a taste of both series and hopefully that will pique your interest about the people of Forever.
Sully Cavanaugh has just finally closed a serial killer case after spending more than eighteen months tracking the killer down. The case costs him, putting his faith in humanity seriously to the test. And he needs a change of scenery and a change in his way of life. His great-uncle Seamus makes arrangements for Sully to stay—and work—at the small horse ranch in Forever, Texas.
It’s just the change Sully is looking for, especially when the ranch foreman turns out to be Rae Mulcahy, an all-around wrangler who is very easy on the eyes. But trouble seems to follow Sully wherever he goes and it isn’t too long before another ranch hand goes missing. It’s up to Sully to find out what happened. Things get complicated when Rae insists on taking part in the investigation—and they discover that the ranch hand wasn’t who he said he was.
As ever, I thank you for taking the time to pick up one of my stories, and from the bottom of my heart, I wish you someone to love who loves you back.
All the best,
Marie
Cavanaugh Cowboy
Marie Ferrarella
USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Award–winning author Marie Ferrarella has written more than two hundred and fifty books for Harlequin, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, marieferrarella.com.
Books by Marie Ferrarella
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Cavanaugh Justice
Mission: Cavanaugh Baby
Cavanaugh on Duty
A Widow’s Guilty Secret
Cavanaugh’s Surrender
Cavanaugh Rules
Cavanaugh’s Bodyguard
Cavanaugh Fortune
How to Seduce a Cavanaugh
Cavanaugh or Death
Cavanaugh Cold Case
Cavanaugh in the Rough
Cavanaugh on Call
Cavanaugh Encounter
Cavanaugh Vanguard
Cavanaugh Cowboy
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To
Jessica,
Who Still Hasn’t Read
A Single One Of These.
All My Love,
Mom
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Excerpt from Special Forces: The Recruit by Cindy Dees
Prologue
“Something wrong, boy?” Seamus Cavanaugh asked. He was the long-retired police chief and currently the head of a small but thriving security firm, as well as the official patriarch of an extremely large clan that was firmly entrenched in the law enforcement community. He lowered himself into a love seat beside Sullivan Cavanaugh, one of his nephew Angus’s sons.
Angus was one of his late younger brother Murdoch’s sons. Despite the fact that there were enough Cavanaughs within Aurora, California, to populate their own small town, and Seamus was far from spending his days sipping a scotch and watching shadows elongate themselves across his front porch, he felt it his duty to watch over each and every one of them. From the oldest—his son Andrew, a retired police chief like himself—to the youngest, Dugan and Toni’s daughter, who was about to reach her first birthday, Seamus took an interest in all of them.
At first, Sullivan Cavanaugh didn’t realize that his great-uncle was speaking to him. There were a lot of people at this gathering and consequently a lot of noise. It was another one of his uncle Andrew’s typical impromptu gatherings—nobody cooked like Uncle Andrew—and every inch of the house and grounds was stuffed with members of the Cavanaugh family as well as other friends, all of whom, in one way or another, dedicated their lives to keeping the good citizens of Aurora safe.
Sully had hoped that coming here would be enough to erase this burned-out feeling he’d been carrying around, a feeling that had unexpectedly descended over him even as he had wound up almost eighteen months’ worth of following cold leads and circular trails before finally finding the murderer he’d been so relentlessly pursuing.
Usually, once a case was put to bed, he would feel buoyed up, invigorated and ready to start again on a new case.
But not this time.
This time, the burned-out feeling remained, growing only more oppressive, preventing him from going on.
Still, he hadn’t thought it was that obvious.
Sully blinked, shifting his body toward his great-uncle.
“Nothing’s wrong, sir,” he answered, doing his best not to sound the way he felt.
Steel-gray eyebrows drew together over exceedingly penetrating dark eyes.
“Don’t give me that, boy. I’ve seen that look before. You just solved the Gilmore case, didn’t you?” It was a rhetorical question.
“My team and I did, yes,” Sully replied.
Everyone in the room was aware of that, he thought. Aware, too, that it had been a team effort even though for some reason, Sully felt unaccountably alone at this point. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling this way.
“That was rather an important case,” Seamus commented. “Even the mayor took an interest in it. And yet here you are, looking like your favorite dog just died.”
Sully shrugged. “I guess it’s all those long hours finally catching up to me. Maybe I just need to go home and get some rest.”
But Seamus didn’t appear convinced.
“It’s more than that,” the onetime police chief said. Seamus scrutinized the man seated beside him in silence for a moment before asking, “Burnout?”
There was no sense in lying, Sully thought. Even though he was in his early seventies, the old man was too sharp to try to fool.
“I guess maybe,” Sully acknowledged with a careless shrug. “But I’ll get over it.” He said it more to convince his great-uncle than himself.
“I’m sure you will,” Seamus told him with the confidence of a man who had seen and lived through a great deal in his lifetime. “But in the meantime, maybe you need a little extra help.”
“Extra help?” Sully repeated, not sure what his great-uncle was telling him.
His guess was that the man was going to suggest possibly a temporary closer acquaintance with Johnnie Walker.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Seamus nodded and said, “A change of scenery.”
Sully didn’t see how that could help and dismissed the suggestion. “I’m not sure if a vacation—”
Seamus continued as if Sully hadn’t said anything. “What do you think about Texas?”
“Texas?” Sully echoed. He’d never been to that state, nor did he have any desire to change that. “I don’t really think anything about Texas,” he began but just like before, he got no further.
“I have this old friend who runs a diner in Forever, Texas. She’s also got this small horse ranch,” Seamus told him. “I’m sure if I contact her, Miss Joan’ll let you stay there.”
Sully looked at his great-uncle, bemused. Everyone knew that the man could be a bit eccentric.
“You call your old friend Miss Joan?” Sully questioned.
Seamus saw nothing unusual about that. “Everyone does,” he said. “All I have to do is pick up a phone and call her—”
“That’s okay, really,” Sully replied, cutting his great-uncle off. He began to rise. “I don’t need a change of scenery.”
Seamus caught his wrist. For a man in his seventies, he had an exceptionally strong grip. Sully sank back down.
“Yes,” Seamus insisted with emphasis, “you do. And as I seem to recall, wide-open spaces don’t intimidate you. You ride, don’t you?”
The old man’s memory was as sharp as Uncle Andrew’s. And, like all his uncles, he also had all the answers before he asked the questions, so there was no point in pretending that he didn’t know his way around a horse, Sully thought. He did. Riding tended to relax him. That went all the way back to his childhood and summers spent with his father, enjoying wide-open spaces.
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Good,” Seamus pronounced. “Nothing left to do but pack your bag.”
Sully eyed the older man uncertainly. Seamus was assuming a lot here.
“But you haven’t even called your friend yet,” he pointed out.
Seamus leaned in closer to him.
“The good thing about old friends, Sully,” Seamus said in a low, confidential voice, “is that you know their answer even before you ask the question. Another good thing is that you can always count on them for a favor.” As he sat back, the older man’s smile widened. “Now, stop arguing with me, boy, and pack your bag.”
Chapter 1
Miss Joan knew the minute that Sully Cavanaugh walked into her establishment.
She wasn’t looking toward the diner’s entrance at the time, but she saw the suddenly dazed expressions of utter admiration on her waitresses’ faces. The two young women, Mandy and Beth, appeared to have been suddenly struck speechless.
Mandy recovered first. Sighing deeply, the dark-haired young woman murmured, “That is one tall, cool drink of water.” Sheer appreciation rang in her voice.
“There’ll be no sipping from that glass,” Miss Joan informed both the young women sternly. “He’s the great-nephew of a friend of mine.”
“I’ll say he’s great,” Beth pronounced with enthusiasm.
Miss Joan frowned and waved the two young women toward their work areas. “You two have tables to bus,” Miss Joan reminded the mesmerized duo. “I suggest that you get to them before the piles get too large.”
As a police detective, Sully was used to walking into unfamiliar places, his every footstep carefully observed, with only seconds for him to assess whether or not his life was in jeopardy. This situation wasn’t that serious, but he was still aware of the fact that he was being closely scrutinized.
Probably because he was a stranger, Sully guessed. From what he’d gathered from his great-uncle, Forever was, for the most part, a small, tightly knit community.
The thin older woman at the counter made him think of an eagle, dissecting his every step as he drew closer to her. She was trim, narrow shouldered and a redhead, most likely a natural one once, but given her age, he guessed that she sought out a little artificial help to maintain the deep red color.
She’d been beautiful once, he thought. And he could see that back in the day, she had definitely been the type who had caught his great-uncle’s eye.
“Excuse me,” Sully said, clearing his throat.
The redheaded woman looked at him, and then at his hat.
Belatedly, he remembered to take off the black Stetson that his great-uncle had gifted him with when he’d left Aurora, bound for Forever. He wasn’t accustomed to wearing a hat, but the sun outside made it almost a necessity.
Running the brim along his fingers, he said, “I’m looking for Miss Joan.”
Miss Joan stopped wiping down the small counter space directly in front of her. Leaning slightly forward on the hand that was against the counter, she informed him, “You found her.”
Sully put out his hand. “I’m Sully Cavanaugh. I think that my great-uncle called you to say that I was coming out.”
Miss Joan glanced down at the offered hand but waited a beat before finally shaking it.
“No, he said he was sending you out for your own good,” she corrected. “He said something about you needing a place to regroup.”
Sully was accustomed to being a private person and waiting before offering any information beyond the bare minimum. This woman already seemed to know more about him than he was happy about.
“I don’t know about that—”
“He did,” Miss Joan continued, cutting him off. Hazel-green eyes slowly slid over the length of his torso, making no secret of the fact that she was assessing what she saw. “You look a lot like Seamus,” she told him. “Back when he was young and good-looking,” she added. “I imagine he’s rather old, craggy and fat by now.” Her voice rose slightly at the end of her statement, a silent invitation to be contradicted.
“He’s still pretty trim,” Sully told her. “And I think he sees himself as wise, not craggy.”
“But he is old,” Miss Joan said, noticing that the young man before her hadn’t said anything to contradict that.
“Old?” Sully corrected that impression now. “Not so you’d notice.”
Miss Joan waved a hand at his words. “You’re his family. You have to say that.”
Rather than protest, Sully took out his cell phone. He pressed the app where he kept family photographs and found the one he’d taken of his great-uncle earlier in the year.
<
br /> He held it up for her to view. “Judge for yourself, Miss Joan.”
Rather than taking the phone from him, she took hold of Sully’s hand to steady it. Miss Joan peered intently at the photograph he had pulled up.
She pursed her lips and asked suspiciously, “When was this taken?”
Sully thought for a moment. “Around the first of the year.”
Her eyes narrowed, looking at him like a seasoned interrogator. “This year?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My, my,” she murmured under her breath, releasing his hand. “If I wasn’t already spoken for, I might think about looking Seamus up again, see if some of that old magic was still there.”
Sully slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Old magic?” he echoed.
Although Sully had always considered himself to be pretty open-minded, it was hard picturing someone his great-uncle’s age having anything that even remotely resembled a love life.
Miss Joan gave him a somewhat impatient look. “Use your imagination, boy. I’m not going to spell it out for you,” she informed him. “I’m a lady.”
Sully chose to avoid the subject altogether by changing it. “You and Uncle Seamus have the same way of addressing me.”
Miss Joan raised her eyes to the handsome, rugged young stranger’s face.
“I’ll let you in on a secret. Saying ‘boy’ is a lot easier than remembering everyone’s names. Although I do,” the woman added authoritatively as a coda, just in case he thought she didn’t.
Sully smiled at this woman who apparently had once known his great-uncle extremely well. “I never doubted it, ma’am.”
Miss Joan surprised him by frowning. “Don’t keep calling me ma’am,” she chided. “Makes me feel like I’m a thousand years old.”
“No way, ma’—Miss Joan.” Denying her assumption, Sully quickly corrected himself before he wound up slipping again.
She nodded. “Keep practicing, boy. Meanwhile, sit down and take a load off,” she instructed, nodding at the stool that was directly to his right. When he did as he was told, she pulled out a menu from beneath the counter and slid it directly in front of him. “What’ll you have? We’re serving lunch, but I can have Angel whip up breakfast for you if you’d rather have that.”
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