The Best Man In Laramie

She’s no damsel in distress, but Shelley Meyerson may just need a white knight like deputy sheriff Colt McCabe. Thanks to her scheming ex-husband, Shelley’s about to lose her home. The last person she wants to turn to for help is Colt, the guy who broke her heart the night of the high school prom. But now that she’s back in Laramie, there’s no avoiding him—especially when they’re both serving in the same wedding party.

True, the handsome, gallant lawman is a valuable ally. And he seems genuinely interested in Shelley and her little boy. She could definitely use a friend…and maybe something more. Rekindling their romance is easy—but learning to trust again is hard. Especially when Shelley learns that Colt’s been keeping a secret that could cost him his badge….

Colt shifted her over onto his lap, much the way he had, years ago, when they were dating.

He sifted his fingers through her hair. “I could still help you, you know.”

Shelley moved so she could look into his eyes. She stared at him a long, careful moment. “I appreciate the thought,” she said finally, biting her lip again.

“But…?” Colt tried his best to figure out what kind of assistance she needed.

Shelley let out a shaky breath and wreathed her arms around his shoulders. “This is the only kind of help I need….”

Shelley hadn’t expected the night to end with her kissing Colt. But it was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.

She traced the contours of his face with her fingertips, reveling in the abrasion of his evening beard. “Don’t turn me down tonight,” she whispered, inhaling the sandalwood and leather scent of his cologne.

His mouth was on her neck, tracing her racing pulse. “Not planning to.”

Dear Reader,

Home is where the heart is. It can be an investment in the future, serve as safe harbor or even be anywhere you hang your hat. Most of all, it’s the place we all long for. We want a roof over our head, a place to store our stuff, somewhere we belong, a cherished haven where we can hopefully find and nurture the kind of love that makes relationships and families strong.

In my new series, McCabe Homecoming, four of Josie and Wade McCabe’s sons are still looking for that special someone and that special space. Deputy Colt McCabe knows he wants to be in Laramie, and he already has a house, yet love has eluded him. Philanthropist Justin McCabe thinks starting a ranch for troubled boys will fill the void in his life. Venture capitalist and single dad Derek McCabe wants a high-end home in Dallas that, while impressive, is still baby-friendly. Environmental engineer Rand McCabe is constantly on the road; hence he’s learned to think home is a hotel room.

What every one of them is missing, is true intimacy in their lives. The kind that comes only when you let down your guard, and open up your heart….

For more information on these and other titles, please visit cathygillenthacker.com.

Best wishes,

Cathy Gillen Thacker

The Texas Lawman’s Woman

Cathy Gillen Thacker

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cathy Gillen Thacker is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heartwarming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular Harlequin Books author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website at www.cathygillenthacker.com for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things.

For Daphne and Lilah and all the joy

they’ve brought to our lives.

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

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter One

Shelley Meyerson’s heart leaped as she caught sight of the broad-shouldered lawman walking out of the dressing room. She blinked, so shocked she nearly fell off the pedestal. “He’s the best man?”

Colt McCabe locked eyes with Shelley, looking about as pleased as she felt. His chiseled jaw clenched. “Don’t tell me she’s the maid of honor!”

“Now, now, you two,” their mutual friend, wedding planner Patricia Wilson, scolded, checking out the fit of Shelley’s yellow, silk bridesmaid dress. “Surely you can get along for a few days. After all, you’re going to have to...since you’re both living in Laramie County again.”

Don’t remind me, Shelley thought with a dramatic sigh.

Looking as handsome as ever in a black tuxedo and pleated white shirt, Colt sized Shelley up. “She’s never going to forgive me.”

For good reason, Shelley mused, remembering the hurt and humiliation she had suffered as if it were yesterday. She whirled toward Colt so quickly the seamstress stabbed her with a pin. But the pain in her ribs was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She lifted up her skirt, revealing her favorite pair of cranberry-red cowgirl boots, and stomped down off the pedestal, not stopping until they were toe-to-toe. “You stood me up on prom night, you big galoot!”

Lips thinning, the big, strapping lawman rocked forward on the toes of his boots. “I got there.”

Yes, he certainly had, Shelley thought, staring at the enticing contours of his broad muscular chest. And even that had been the stuff of Laramie, Texas legend. The town had talked about it for weeks and weeks. “Two hours late. Unshowered. Unshaven.” Shelley threw up her hands in exasperation. “No flowers. No tuxedo...”

Because if he had looked then the way he looked now... Well, who knew what would have happened? Certainly they would have followed through on their secret, incredibly romantic plans. Instead, she’d spent the evening alone, crying her eyes out into her pillow, the gorgeous dress and silky lingerie she’d spent weeks picking out crumpled beneath her.

Colt stepped nearer, inundating her with the smell of soap and cologne and the intoxicatingly familiar essence that was him. “I told you where I’d been,” he reminded quietly.

That night, and many days after.

Shelley glared up at him, crushed all over again. “With Buddy.”

Colt stood, legs braced apart, hands on his waist. To her fury, he was no more apologetic now than he had been then. “He needed me, Shelley.”

I needed you.

“Right,” Shelley retorted with a cool indifference that belied the emotion churning inside her. “So you said, Colt. Many times.”

When was she going to get over this? Over him? Shelley had thought she was. Until the moment they came face-to-face again. Then, it was as if no time at all had passed. As if they were still as deeply in love as she’d once dreamed them to be.

But maybe it would be best if she did just forget it all and move on. Otherwise, her heart would remain broken forever. At least when it came to her sexy former boyfriend...

Colt shoved a hand through his short, dark brown hair, and turned back to the wedding planner. “This isn’t going to work.”

Patricia stepped between them. “The heck it isn’t. Kendall and Gerry chose the two of you to be maid of honor and best man, so you’re both going to suck it up and get along until the nuptials are over. Got it? The bride and groom have been through enough.”

That was certainly true. Like Colt, Gerry had grown up wanting to help others. Gerry had become a navy medic and saved many lives, until he’d been injured in an accident on an aircraft carrier and spent the past six months recuperating in a series of military hospitals. Now, finally, he was well enough to return to active duty. After all they’d been through together, it had been the happiest day of both their lives when he’d asked Kendall to marry him. But a long engagement was not in the cards for them because they only had thirty days to pack up, marry and honeymoon before they headed for his next assignment in San Diego.

Hence, their wedding was being put together with lightning speed, with preparations starting before the two lovebirds even hit town.

“This isn’t about you.” Patricia guided Shelley back up on the pedestal, so the seamstress could continue the fitting. “It’s about making the bride and groom happy. Now, I know you haven’t been back in town all that long, Shelley—”

“Four days, six hours and twenty-two minutes,” Colt interrupted in a bored tone, “if anyone is counting.”

Shelley looked at him, not surprised he had been clocking the time, much as she had. It had been hard as heck, trying to steer clear of him during the move-in process, but she had. Until now, anyway.

He shrugged, obviously relishing the fact he could still get under her skin. “Laramie’s not that big.” He flexed his shoulders restlessly, then narrowed his midnight-blue eyes. “I figured we would run into each other eventually.”

Another silence fell. This one even more telling.

Once more, Patricia stepped between them. “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to get both of you fitted for your wedding finery, and then the two of you are going to go out somewhere.” She lifted a hand to cut off their heated protests. “I don’t care where. And you’re going to sit down together and broker some sort of truce so that none of your past angst taints the upcoming wedding in any way.”

Shelley knew the wedding planner was right. She had returned to Laramie to inhabit the house where she had grown up. Colt was living just down the street in a house he had bought. In a county of ten thousand people, Shelley knew there was no way they’d be able to avoid each other indefinitely. Maybe it was time she and Colt acted like the grown-ups they were now instead of the love struck teenagers they had once been, and buried the hatchet for good.

From the look of consternation that crossed Colt’s face, she could tell that the handsome bachelor seemed similarly chastened.

Fifteen minutes later, their chores as attendants done, they walked out of the Lockhart Bridal Salon on Main Street. Just after six, the sun was sinking slowly toward the horizon in the bright blue Texas sky. The unseasonably cool June day had the temperature in the low eighties. There was very low humidity and a nice breeze. “So where do you want to go?” Colt asked Shelley.

With the clock running and her cash dwindling, there was little choice about that. “My place,” she said.

Colt reacted as if she had just invited him over to see her etchings. Shelley put an end to that notion with an unsentimental glance. Their days of even thinking about hooking up were over. “I’ve got to go home,” she said flatly. She had responsibilities to tend.

Colt lifted a brow and warned, “You should know...I’ve got Buddy with me.”

She stopped as they reached his blue Ford pickup truck. All four windows of the extended cab were down. A beautiful brown, white and black Bernese mountain dog was sitting in the front seat. These days, there was more white on the canine’s face than either brown or black. “I can see that.” Shelley stared at the dog that had inadvertently crushed her dreams and been Colt’s constant companion for the past twelve-plus years. The big fluffy-haired pet was still as friendly and alert as ever.

And he still brought a flood of resentment to her heart.

Buddy looked at Shelley as if he remembered her. And her attitude. Yet he still wanted to be her friend. She pushed her guilt away. That dog, and the nonstop chaos he had caused, was just as responsible for her breakup with Colt as Colt was. She had to remember that. The look on his face, the one that always set her heart to racing, said he surely did.

“I can take him home first,” he offered.

That, Shelley knew, would just delay the inevitable, because Colt and Buddy were practically inseparable— and she might as well come to terms with that. “No,” she replied with a resigned sigh. “Bring him.”

“You’re sure?” Colt asked.

Shelley shrugged. She could do this. She knew she could. “If we’re going to be living just a few houses away, you and I are going to have to make peace with the past. And I have to make friends with your dog, too.” She had to get to the point where Buddy was just another dog, instead of the love who had stolen Colt’s heart.

“Then I’ll see you in five,” he promised.

* * *

COLT WATCHED AS SHELLEY got into the aging red Prius she had inherited from her parents and led the way over to Spring Street. The big yellow-and-white Victorian was the same as it had been when her parents were alive. A century old, it had a covered porch that wrapped around the entire house.

A porch swing stood sentry to the right of the front door.

It was—and had been—the perfect place to see everything that happened up and down the shady, tree-lined street. It had also been the perfect place for snuggling. Colt and Shelley had logged a lot of hours on that swing when they were dating. Just looking at it brought back a flood of memories.

Of course, she’d logged a lot of hours on it after they had broken up, too, as she’d sat there, swinging and fuming. And even more after he’d had the gall to tell her in no uncertain terms what he thought of the man she was marrying. Not that he’d been any better at picking a mate. He had yet to find the right woman.

Exhaling in frustration, Colt got out and went around to the passenger side. He opened the door, grabbed the leash on the floor and snapped it onto Buddy’s collar.

Buddy was still staring at Shelley as if trying to figure her out, too. Colt petted his dog on the head. “I know she’s pretty,” he said softly. “But she doesn’t like dogs.”

The pooch looked at Colt seriously.

“Yeah, well.” Colt shook his head. “I know. Hard to believe. But it’s true. So you be on your best behavior, fella,” he told his dog sternly. “We don’t want her adding to her already gigantic grudge against us.”

Buddy’s days of enthusiastically jumping down from the cab were long over. Colt lifted his eighty-five-pound companion on the grass next to the curb, then waited while Buddy lifted a leg.

Meanwhile, Shelley hurried toward the front door. “You can wait on the porch,” she said over her shoulder.

A minute and a half later, a high school girl came out, pocketing cash. Shelley followed, a good-looking toddler in her arms.

Colt couldn’t help but stare. He had always been attracted to Shelley, even when they were at war with each other. It would have been impossible not to be, given her cloud of soft shoulder-length auburn hair and her fathomless pine-green eyes. But seeing Shelley hold the child so tenderly put her in a whole new light. This was a maternal side of her that he hadn’t anticipated. And found just as appealing as her inherent femininity and lithe dancer’s body. She was, and always had been, the woman he most wanted to bed. That hadn’t changed, either.

Oblivious to the direction of his thoughts, Shelley smiled for the first time since they’d set eyes on each other again. “Colt, meet my son, Austin. He’s two.”

Colt noted her little boy had the same auburn hair, appealing face and dark green eyes as his mother. Able to see why Shelley was so proud—the little tyke was as cute as could be, and intelligent, too—Colt extended his hand to the little boy.

Austin clasped the hand-carved red wooden truck in his hand that Colt knew was three generations old. He recalled seeing it when he had been dating Shelley years ago. The antique toy had been saved for her first child. At the time, because he and Shelley had been in the grip of a fierce teenage romance, everyone thought that Colt might be the daddy to that baby.

It hadn’t turned out that way, however.

Shelley’s son turned his head and buried it in Shelley’s shoulder. The action shifted the scooped neckline of her T-shirt, baring a hint of lace and silky smooth skin. Noticing, Colt felt himself stir.

Not good. Not good at all. The last thing they needed was their former chemistry sparking to life. The two of them were just too different. He hadn’t ever completely thawed her in the past.

He sure wasn’t going to do it now.

Her son was much more welcoming. The little boy proudly showed Colt his truck and said, “Mine. My truck.”

“It sure is your truck,” he agreed.

Satisfied that Colt understood the import of what he was holding, Austin turned back to Shelley. “Down, Momma. Want down.”

Shelley looked at Buddy, who was sitting next to where Colt was standing in a perfect sit-stay.

Although it wasn’t necessary, Colt took his dog over to a cushioned wicker chair that had also been there for years. He pointed to the section of the porch beside it, and Buddy obediently lay down. Paws stretched out in front of them, he waited.

Colt sat down next to Buddy, and then Shelley set her son on the other end of the wide front porch.

Oblivious to the tension between the adults, Austin walked over to a wicker basket full of toys. He pulled a wooden cube from the pile, opened the lid and dumped the shaped blocks out onto the painted floor. Grinning, he plopped down beside it, shut the lid and began fitting a piece into the similarly shaped slots, while Shelley looked on happily.

“I hear you are going to be teaching dance classes at the community center full-time now,” Colt said.

Shelley smiled. “Classes start tomorrow afternoon.”

Colt recalled her on the dance line for the marching band, in that short skirt, skimpier top and boots. She’d been the captain of the group, and man, she had been able to move—to the point that no one could take their eyes off her. Especially him. Not that he needed to be remembering that.

“I hear you’re in law enforcement.”

Colt nodded. “I’m a deputy with the sheriff’s department.”

Shelley shook her head, clearly perplexed. “I never thought you’d go through with that.”

“Why not?” Colt returned, holding her gaze.

She lifted her slender shoulder in an elegant shrug. “You were never the hall monitor type.”

The truth was, he did have the softest heart in the department. But not about to admit that, Colt pointed out instead, “You said you always wanted to be rich and live in the big city...yet here you are, back in Laramie, moving into the house you grew up in.”

A mixture of regret and disappointment flickered across her face. “I guess that’s what the saying ‘Life happens while you are making other plans’ means.”

Abruptly, she looked so sad and disillusioned Colt’s heart went out to her. “What happened to you?” he asked gently.

She didn’t take her eyes off his. “I got divorced.”

There it was. Another link between them. Something else they unexpectedly had in common. “Me, too,” he said quietly.

She looked at him with understanding. “When?”

He cleared his throat. “Five years ago.”

Suddenly, Colt wanted to know the facts he hadn’t let anyone else tell him. Not that Shelley had ever been particularly forthcoming about the failures in her life. Appreciating the way her auburn hair fell softly over her shoulders, he pinned her with a glance and asked, “You?”

“My marriage officially ended two years ago, although we were separated for nine months before that.”

Colt’s glance slid to her son.

Shelley answered the question before he could ask.

“Yes, Austin is Tully Laffer’s son. We separated right after I learned I was pregnant.” She emitted a rueful sigh that let him know she was as disappointed in the turns her romantic life had taken as he was in his. “Anyway, our divorce became final shortly after Austin was born. I stayed in Dallas for a while, then finally decided to come back home. I figured it would be easier to raise my son here.”

There seemed to be a lot she was leaving out—and he wanted to know what. Which was odd. He usually wasn’t this nosy. “Your ex doesn’t mind?”

Shelley turned a fond glance to her son and sat back in her chair. She crossed her legs at the knee. Her khaki skirt rose higher on her thigh, giving him a glimpse of taut, tan skin. “Turns out Tully’s not interested in the whole parenting thing.”

That was no surprise to Colt. He’d only had to meet the guy once to know the spoiled rich kid was all wrong for Shelley. Not that she’d listened to him, or anyone else in Laramie for that matter.

“What about his family?”

Shelley grimaced. “His parents were barely there when he was growing up. They have a jet-setting lifestyle that has them constantly on the go. The last thing they want is any demands from grandchildren.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” She linked her hands around her knee. “I think they’re all really missing out.”

No kidding, Colt thought, his glance moving briefly back to Austin, who was still playing contentedly.

Her son certainly deserved better. As did Shelley. Aware he had an apology of his own to give that was long overdue, Colt leaned toward her and cleared his throat. “So...about prom.”

Pink color flooded Shelley’s cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She lifted a staying hand and continued gazing deep into his eyes, as serious now about burying the hatchet between them as he was. “I shouldn’t still be upset about that.”

Colt winced. “Yeah, you should.”

She lifted her brow. He felt the pull of attraction and knew it was time for him to set the record straight. “I should have called you that night to let you know what was going on.”

Her expression gentled. “In your defense, you were a little busy helping to comfort a lost puppy who’d gotten his leg stuck between a rock and a fallen tree. A puppy who likely would have died had you not spotted him and stopped to help.”

Colt reached over and patted Buddy’s head, taking comfort in the way his pet leaned into him affectionately. “Once the fire and rescue team arrived, I should have taken the time to call and tell you what was going on.”

Looking as if she appreciated his honesty, she asked in return, “Why didn’t you?”

“I told myself it was because this guy needed me with him in order to stay calm while the firefighters sawed that tree.”

Their gazes met. “And in reality?” she asked even more softly.

And here was the hell of it. “I think you’re right. I didn’t want to go to prom.”

“Because you hated dancing,” she guessed.

Because I didn’t want to fall any harder for you than I already had. “Because I knew if we followed through on the plans that we had for that night—” and we slept together for the first time “—it would kill me when you broke up with me.”

“If we had followed through on our plans, I wouldn’t have broken up with you.”

Colt wanted to believe that. Life had taught him otherwise. “Come on, Shelley. At least be honest about this. We didn’t want the same things for our futures. You were headed to Dallas to study dance at SMU. I was going to San Angelo State to get a degree in law enforcement.”

“That was then.”

“And now?” he prompted.

“I find myself wanting a quiet life, filled with the familiar, too.”

Colt knew she had convinced herself she would be happy in Laramie. He also knew you couldn’t really go back again. That sometimes the past was meant to be just that. Which was why he shouldn’t be entertaining the notion of becoming anything other than the most casual of friends with her.

Still, he was curious. “What about marriage?” Was she looking for husband number two?

Shelley made a face, shook her head. “Been there, done that.”

“Well, see, that’s where we’re different.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I do want to get married again someday. If I can find the right woman...”

“Then I hope you get that.”

They were quiet as they watched the little boy play.

Austin pushed his wooden box away and walked toward Colt.

Shelley tensed, ready to leap into action. “Is it okay?” she asked nervously, eyeing Colt’s large companion.

Colt nodded, as relaxed as Shelley was wary. “Buddy’s been trained as a therapy dog. He’s great with kids.”

Seeming to know he was safe with the big animal, Austin bent down to look Buddy in the face. The Bernese mountain dog lay with his head flat on the ground, the only sign he knew of the child’s interest was the shifting of eyebrows on his face.

“Do you want to pet the doggie?” Colt asked Austin, hunkering down beside the two. “You can do it like this.” He demonstrated.

Austin gently patted Buddy on the top of his head. Buddy remained perfectly still except for his tail, which thumped gently on the wooden porch floor.

“Doggie!” the little boy said.

“Doggie,” Colt repeated, petting Buddy, too.

The get-to-know-each-other session continued for several more minutes. Finally, Austin straightened and toddled back to the wicker toy basket. He picked up his little red truck and took it to Buddy. Instead of handing it over to his new friend, he held it just out of reach. “Mine,” he announced, clutching it tight in his hand. “My toy.”

“It’s okay,” Colt soothed. “Buddy isn’t going to take it from you.”

Austin held tight to his belonging, and then moved away. All the while Buddy remained calm and content.

Watching, Shelley smiled. “I’m glad you kept him,” she said finally, looking Colt in the eye. “The two of you belong together.”

No, he thought, the two of us belong together. Always did, always would. If only we didn’t have such different outlooks on damn near everything. Pushing that unwanted thought away, he rose. “Well, apologies made, Buddy and I better be on our way.”

Shelley rose, too. “I’m sorry about all the bad feelings, all these years.”

Relief sifted through him. “Me, too.”

She lifted a palm. “Friends?”

Colt returned the amiable high five, glad the two of them were finally beginning to put the past behind them. “Friends,” he said.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Chapter Two

“Yeah, well, I don’t believe it,” Rio Vasquez said in the locker room as he changed into his tan uniform. “No woman ever forgives a man for standing her up on one of the most important nights of her life.”

Colt fastened his holster around his waist. “We’re adults now. We were kids when all that went down.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Rio sat down to put on his boots. “The heart is still the heart.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Colt checked his flashlight and his gun. “You hot-blooded Latinos think you know everything there is to know about passion.”

“We do.” Rio stood and slapped his pal amicably on the shoulder. “And what my romantic radar says is that no grudge held that long is ever going to be set aside that easily.”

“Meaning what?” Colt joked back, studying Rio’s circumspect expression. “You think Shelley’s just pretending to forgive me?”

His friend shrugged. “I’m sure in her rational mind she thinks she ought to let the past be just that. Whether or not she can ever really trust you not to hurt her again is another matter entirely.”

Rio had a point, Colt conceded, as he walked out to his squad car to begin his nightly patrol. His truce with Shelley had come about a lot more quickly than he ever would have guessed possible. Partly because they both had a lot more life experience and hence were now able to sort out what was important and what wasn’t. Another factor was the pressure of the wedding, and their mutual desire to do right by their friends. But there were lingering feelings, of that he was sure.

He’d have liked to stay longer on her porch. Get caught up on more than just the basics. Forge new bonds.

But it had been clear, despite her deeply ingrained Texas charm and hospitality, that as soon as the olive branch was extended, she’d wanted him and Buddy out and on their way.

And that had to mean something. He just wasn’t sure what.

* * *

AT BEDTIME, SHELLEY OPENED UP the drawer in Austin’s changing table and got her second big surprise of the day. “Oh, no. Tell me we’re not out of diapers!” She rushed to the closet, then the diaper bag, Austin toddling along right behind her. Nothing. Which meant she was going to have to put Austin in the car and run out to get another box of disposables.

Not that Austin, who’d had an unusually long and late nap, seemed to mind being carried out to her Prius shortly after 9:00 p.m. “We go bye-bye,” he announced cheerfully.

“One of these days we’ll be completely unpacked and then it will be a lot easier to get organized,” Shelley promised as she strapped Austin into his car seat.

“Diapers!” Austin shouted, waving his arms.

Well, Shelley thought wearily, at least her son knew what they were after. Unfortunately, the only store open that late was on the outskirts of town, near the entrance to the Lake Laramie State Park grounds. For once, the Mega-Mart was not crowded with summer campers, so Shelley and Austin were able to zip in and out.

The problem appeared en route home as dusk was falling. Shelley had just turned onto the two-lane highway toward town and gone about a half mile when a pair of headlights coming the opposite direction wove into her lane, then out again, then back toward her.

Terrified, she hit her horn and brake simultaneously, steering her car as far onto the shoulder as she could go without actually swerving off the road. And still the oncoming vehicle kept heading right for her, weaving back and forth. Knowing she had no choice if she wanted to avoid a collision, Shelley swung the steering wheel farther right and veered off the highway to get out of the way of the wildly careening vehicle.

Her car shot forward as it completely cleared the shoulder and the low ditch beside it, then slammed down on the rough sagebrush-covered ground, bumping hard once, with teeth-clenching force, and then, to a lesser degree, again and again and again.

Finally, the Prius ground to a halt while the big sedan that had almost crashed into her continued on its way, not slowing down in the slightest as it swerved into the wrong lane yet again.

Only this time, she noted in slow-motion horror, the SUV coming toward it was not able to react fast enough. Despite the squealing brakes and blaring horn, the two vehicles collided with a huge boom. A dark-colored SUV went airborne before crash-landing onto its side. The instigating white sedan was thrust into a field one hundred yards south of Shelley’s Prius. And then all fell horribly silent.

Hands shaking, Shelley turned off her ignition but kept the headlights on. She hit the emergency flashers and swung around to look at Austin. He was still strapped safely into his car seat, but looked as stunned and shell-shocked by their unexpected leap off the road and near miss as she felt.

Her heart pounding, Shelley scrambled out of the car, opened the back door and removed her son from his car seat, clutching him fiercely.

My heaven, that had been close!

“You okay, li’l fella?” Shelley asked, stroking his back.

Austin nodded. He put his head on her chest. She could feel him trembling. Poor thing. Still cuddling her son in her arms, Shelley reached for her phone and dialed 9-1-1. The operator came on the line. Shelley quickly described what had happened.

“Is anyone hurt?”

“I don’t know.” She looked at the crash scene, which was eerily still. “I can’t tell from here.”

“Can you get a visual for us? So we’ll have an idea how many ambulances to send?”

Her whole body quaking with a mixture of adrenaline and nerves, Shelley strapped Austin in his seat, got back in the car, and did as required. Emergency lights flashing the entire way, she drove slowly through the field to the scene of the accident. The SUV that had taken the hit had flipped and was still on its side in a nearby field. It had a New York license plate and two passengers inside.

The sedan that had caused the crash bore Texas plates. The man who’d been driving was sitting behind a deployed airbag that looked like it had deflated. He was shouting belligerently in a slurred voice.

Shelley got back on the line and told the operator what she knew.

Fortunately, by the time she had finished, several other motorists were on the scene. One immediately set out flares to stop oncoming traffic. Another went over to the SUV. Everyone left their own vehicles’ lights on to better illuminate the scene.

Moments later, Shelley couldn’t help noticing that Austin, who normally chattered nonstop while they were in the car, was still ominously silent. She pivoted around in her seat to face him. Her toddler was staring at the scene uncomprehendingly. “Austin?” she asked, aware she was trapped now by all the vehicles, too. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond. Just continued to stare in that same dazed, emotionless way.

Panicked, Shelley shut down her ignition and jumped out of the car. She reached in to release Austin from his safety harness. He had seemed fine a moment ago, but was it possible he’d somehow gotten hurt without her knowledge? Shelley checked her son over but found nothing—no cuts, bruises or any outward sign of injury.

A Laramie County Sheriff’s Department car drove up, siren blaring, lights flashing. The officer parked horizontally across the road, further blocking off the scene. Deputy Colt McCabe stepped out wearing a tan uniform.

As he strode toward her, Shelley had never been so glad to see anyone in her life.

Handsome brow furrowed in concern, he asked, “Were you involved?”

She nodded. “I was run off the road by that white sedan, just before those two vehicles crashed.”

A siren blared in the distance.

“Is Austin okay?”

“I’m not sure. I—” Austin rested limply in her arms, and he looked awfully pale in the bright yellow headlights. He still wasn’t reacting much. She’d half expected him to be crying by now; there was so much chaos and confusion. The fact he wasn’t alarmed her.

“He might be going into shock.” Colt went back to his squad car, got a blanket out of the trunk. He brought it back to her. “Here. Put this around him. Keep him warm. We’ll get him to the E.R., too.”

The siren grew louder, then fell silent as another squad car arrived and parked horizontally to block off the opposite direction. Deputy Rio Vasquez stepped out. And still no paramedics, ambulances or fire trucks, Shelley noted in frustration, although to her relief she hadn’t yet noticed smoke or leaking gasoline.

“It’s going to be okay,” Colt told Shelley firmly, wrapping a reassuring arm around her.

Rio headed for the sedan to assess injuries. Colt took the SUV. While they did their jobs, Shelley paced, Austin cradled in her arms, turning him so he could no longer see the crash site. In the background she heard the blur of angry voices, apportioning blame. All the airbags had gone off, and had since deflated, but there were still possible injuries, so everyone was advised to stay put until the paramedics arrived. Unfortunately, the driver of the sedan got out of his car anyway. He pushed past Rio and the people trying to help him and wove toward Shelley drunkenly.

“What the heck is going on here?” he slurred, a cut streaming blood from his scalp.

Colt moved to assist. “Mr. Zellecky?”

The elderly man lurched unsteadily. “No need for alarm. Everything’s fine.”

“What’s the ETA on the paramedics?” Colt asked into the radio on his shoulder.

“Another five minutes.”

That was a lifetime! Shelley thought in despair.

Colt turned to Rio. “I’m getting Mr. Zellecky to the hospital.”

Colt took another look at her subdued, pale son and told Shelley, “You and Austin should come, too.”

Seconds later, they were all strapped in and on their way.

He drove them to Laramie Community Hospital. Shelley sat in back with Austin. Mr. Zellecky rode shotgun. He seemed roaring drunk when they started out. By the time they’d gone two miles, he was slumped over in his seat, unconscious.

Colt was on the speakerphone with the E.R. “Got a shocky two-year-old and a seventy-something diabetic coming in. Terrence Zellecky.”

A pause. “Mr. Zellecky whose wife just had a stroke?”

“That’s him,” Colt confirmed. “He was apparently driving erratically and got in a car accident. He was belligerent at the scene, but is now unconscious in the front seat of my squad car.”

“We’ll greet you at the door.”

And a crew did.

Faster than Shelley could have imagined possible, they had loaded the diabetic on a stretcher and were rushing him into the E.R.

Colt followed with Shelley. When her legs proved too wobbly to move quickly, he took Austin from her and led her through the pneumatic doors. From there a triage nurse took over. The next thing Shelley knew she was in a treatment room with Austin.

An oxygen mask was placed on Austin’s face, while he sat on her lap, blanket still wrapped around him, keeping him warm. The triage nurse took his vitals. A pediatrician entered soon after and checked for injuries. To Shelley’s relief, none were found. His stunned demeanor had been due to the shock of being in an accident, and the resulting rush of cortisol and adrenaline flooding his tiny system.

“We’ll continue to keep him warm, make sure he’s breathing well, give him some juice to drink and he’ll feel better in no time,” the pediatrician pronounced, looking as happy as Shelley that Austin was going to be just fine.

The doctor and nurse slipped out, and Shelley concentrated on soothing Austin. As her baby boy breathed in the oxygen rich air, his color returned—and so did his usual high spirits. Eventually, he had recovered enough to try to pull off his mask and say, “Sirens, Momma, sirens! Police car!”

“Yes,” Shelley acknowledged softly, replacing the mask, “we saw sirens and a police car.”

“Eeeee!” Austin reenacted the screeching and squealing, then gasped the way Shelley had gasped. He flailed his arms. “Boom!”

“Like I said—” Colt appeared in the doorway to the exam room, still resplendent in his tan uniform, his hat slanted across his brow “—a lot to take in for a little guy.” He smiled over at Austin. “Everything okay here?” he asked gently.

Shelley had never imagined Colt could be so tender. Heart in her throat, she nodded.

Sirens sounded in the distance.

Behind Colt, another doc appeared in the hallway. “Good thing you brought Mr. Zellecky in when you did, Colt. Another ten minutes with his blood sugar that low and he’d have been in a diabetic coma. That coupled with his heart condition could have been fatal.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Colt turned to the doctor, concerned.

“Yeah. But we’re going to have to do something about him driving.”

“I know.” Colt stepped out into the hallway, his expression grim.

“And good work for getting the toddler here quickly, too....”

The murmur of voices moved off.

A nurse came back in with a container of juice. “How about we move you two up to Pediatrics? You’ll be a lot more comfortable there until we get the discharge paperwork together.”

More sirens sounded. Austin put his hands over his ears, suddenly looking completely stressed out again.

“Good idea,” Shelley said. She’d no sooner gotten settled upstairs than Colt reappeared. “I’m headed back to the scene. Obviously, we’re going to need a witness statement from you, but it doesn’t have to be done now.”

“Thank you. I’d prefer not to talk about it in front of Austin.”

He met her eyes. “How about I come by your house tomorrow morning? Say around eight?”

Shelley nodded.

“And then there’s the matter of your car...”

Shelley bit down in frustration. She’d been so concerned about her son, she hadn’t even thought about that.

“Would you like help with that, too?” Colt offered.

She swallowed hard, realizing it would be so easy to lean on him, now that she was back in town. “You can get it to me?” she asked, trying hard not to think about what had happened the last time she had let herself count on a man.

He smiled as he locked eyes with her son, and then turned back to her. “In a strictly unofficial capacity, yeah, I can.”

Despite herself, Shelley found herself really appreciating his propensity for going above and beyond the call of duty. “That would be great, Colt. Thank you.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He paused to bestow another tender smile on Austin, tipped his hat at her and strode out the door.

* * *

“A WORD WITH YOU, COLT?” Sheriff Ben Shepherd said late the following morning.

Colt pushed back from his computer and followed his boss into his private office.

Ben shut the door. A humorless brunette in her mid-forties was already there, waiting. “You remember Investigator Adams?”

Hard not to. Ilyse Adams was the internal affairs officer for the department. Colt sat down in the chair indicated.

Ben took a seat behind his desk. Ilyse, already sitting, opened up a notepad on her lap. A veteran of the Chicago police force, she had been hired after a traffic ticket and bribery scandal erupted the previous year in an adjacent county. Her job was to keep corruption at bay and ensure protocol was followed at every level.

“What’s going on?” Colt asked, afraid he already knew.

Ben steepled his hands in front of him. “There’s been a complaint you acted unprofessionally at the accident scene last night in not citing Mr. Zellecky for reckless driving.”

Colt exhaled. He’d known, after talking to the others in the E.R., that there was going to be trouble. “It didn’t seem appropriate, given Mr. Zellecky’s medical condition.”

Ben sighed. “The New York couple Mr. Zellecky hit feel otherwise. They allege deference was paid to the local resident who caused the accident over them.”

Aware the complaint mirrored what actually had been going on in Spring County the previous year, Colt protested, “That’s not true. Rio and I tended to both of them on a priority basis.” They’d been nothing but helpful and accommodating.

“I’d agree if you had cited Mr. Zellecky for causing the accident, but you didn’t.” Ben fixed Colt with a somber glance. “You will now.”

Colt pressed his lips together. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you have a problem with that, Deputy McCabe?” Investigator Adams asked coyly.

“Yeah, now that you ask,” Colt drawled, “as a matter of fact, I do.”

“Go on,” Ilyse encouraged with her usual can’t-wait-to-gut-you smile. Although, to date, she had yet to actually charge anyone in the department with illegal or unethical behavior. Some were questioning the value of such a high-salaried employee when there was no corruption to be found.

Colt looked the IA officer in the eye. “Taking Mr. Zellecky to court is a waste of time and resources.”

As protective of his officers as he was determined to run a clean department, Ben Shepherd intervened sternly, “That’s not for you to decide, Colt.”

Wasn’t it? “I beg to differ.” Colt leaned forward to make his point. “These kinds of decisions are what set us apart from big-city police forces. We know our residents. And this accident, as unfortunate as it was, wasn’t caused by deliberate carelessness—it was illness-related.”

Although his boss listened intently, the internal affairs officer looked skeptical. Undeterred, Colt continued, “It’s no secret Mr. Zellecky’s recently been under an enormous amount of stress. Consequently, his blood glucose levels have been all over the map. Very low blood sugar levels cause acute disorientation, to the point the diabetic both acts and appears drunk.”

“Exactly why he shouldn’t have been driving,” the IA officer said.

Colt interjected, “I talked to Mr. Zellecky last night after he was stabilized. He said he felt fine when he started out on his errand. So there was no point in citing him with reckless driving since I did not think the charges would stick.”

“So you’re judge and jury, is that it?” Ilyse Adams asked coolly.

“I used my judgment and my common sense,” Colt affirmed.

The IA officer consulted her notes. “Well, that judgment is suspect. We’re going to be confidentially reviewing every case you’ve handled in the last six months. Should this prove to be a pattern with you, you’ll suffer the appropriate sanctions.”

Sheriff Ben Shepherd said nothing to counter the IA officer’s assertion.

The knowledge he could face disciplinary action hit Colt like a blow to the gut.

“And if it proves I’ve done nothing wrong?” he asked, taken aback that an outsider might hold the keys to his future. “Last night or at any other time?”

“Then no one but the three of us and the department attorney will ever know there was an investigation,” the sheriff promised. “In the meantime...” Sheriff Shepherd retrieved a thick envelope from his desk and handed it to Colt. “You have a chance to prove you can do your job, no matter whom or what is involved.”

Colt looked at the name and address on the papers due to be served. He swore inwardly.

“Got a problem?” Sheriff Shepherd queried.

They wanted to see him do his job no matter what? Then that’s exactly what he’d do.

“No, sir,” Colt said crisply. “I do not.”

* * *

SHELLEY OPENED THE DOOR to find a uniformed Colt McCabe on the other side of it. A faint hint of beard shadowed his face, a hint of weariness in his midnight-blue eyes, but otherwise, he was as handsome as ever. Which was a true testament to his stamina after what had to be—if her calculations were correct—nearly fourteen hours on the job.

“Thanks for getting my car back to me last night.” It had been in the hospital parking lot when she’d come out with her son.

“The tow service delivered it. I figured you’d need it when Austin was released.”

“I did.” She moved to usher him inside. “Here to take the accident report?”

“That’s right.” He gestured toward the wicker furniture that stood opposite the porch swing and said, “Okay if we do it out here?”

As grateful as she was feeling, maybe it was best he didn’t come in. Shelley nodded and brought Austin with her. He sat down to play with his toys.

Colt got out his laptop computer. His eyes were calmly intense, his lips grim. “If you could start from the beginning...”

Slipping into business mode, too, Shelley told him everything she remembered. When they finished, he stood, put his laptop back in the carrying case and then pulled out a thick envelope and a clipboard. “If you could just sign here indicating you’ve received this,” he said.

Puzzled by the extraofficial sound of his voice and the coolness of his manner, Shelley did as requested.

Colt took the clipboard back and looked her right in the eye. “Shelley Meyerson, you’ve just been served.”

Chapter Three

Shelley stared at Colt in confusion. “Is this a joke?”

“No, ma’am, it’s not.” Colt took another paper with the words Notice of Eviction across the top and pasted it to the front door.

Shelley ripped it right back off and stared down at the order demanding she vacate the property ten days from now. “And stop calling me ma’am!” she said, fuming.

Austin toddled over to where Colt stood. He hooked both his arms around Colt’s legs and tilted his head back. “Up!” Austin commanded, giving Colt a toothy grin.

For the first time since the police business started, Colt’s demeanor became more guy next door than lawman. He smiled down at Austin, then looked at Shelley.

“Up!” Austin repeated, even more insistently.

“If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you could hold him for a moment,” Shelley murmured, trying to retain her composure.

His manner as gentle as always, Colt complied.

Anxious to read the papers, she sat down on the wicker chair and fumbled with the clasp on the envelope. Heart pounding, she scanned the legal documents. “This can’t be right! How can I possibly be evicted or my home foreclosed on? There’s no mortgage. That was paid off with the money I inherited. I’ve been paying the taxes and the insurance from the trust. Not that there’s much left in that.” Just enough to serve as a nest egg, until she started getting paychecks for her dance classes at the community center.

Austin patted Colt’s shoulders and chest with the flat of his palms, testing the solid muscle beneath. Despite her distress, she couldn’t help but behold the sight of Colt standing there in his uniform, her toddler cradled in his arms.

“What this?” Austin tugged on the laminated plate above the badge.

Colt gently stayed the tiny fingers, explaining, “It’s my name pin. It says Deputy Colt McCabe.”

“Deppity,” Austin repeated. He grinned at Colt. “Deppity! Deppity!”

Returning to the business at hand, Shelley quickly went through the rest of the papers. “My house is being put up for auction in ten days? On the county courthouse steps? How can they do that when I never even heard of this collection agency?” She threw up her hands in frustration, stood and put the papers aside momentarily.

She met Colt’s implacable gaze. To her disappointment, she found not an ounce of sympathy or emotion, just cool professionalism.

Then again, given the fact he was here to do a job, maybe she shouldn’t expect any. “None of this makes any sense.” Sighing, Shelley held out her arms to Austin. He slid into them happily.

Colt straightened the brim of his Stetson. “Sounds like you need to see a lawyer.”

Shelley shook her head. There was no need for that. “I’m sure I can clear this up,” she stated confidently. Clearly, a pretty big mistake had been made. “All I have to do is make a few phone calls.”

Briefly, his expression betrayed skepticism. “Well...good luck with that.” Colt tipped his hat at her and headed off.

Shelley went back inside the house, into the kitchen she had just unpacked. She settled Austin in the high chair with a bowl of his favorite dry cereal and a sippy cup of milk, and reached for the phone.

Unfortunately, the bank that had made the claim against Shelley’s childhood home wouldn’t talk to her—the matter had already been turned over to collections. The collection company wouldn’t speak to her, either, as the matter had already been settled in court via the claim against her home, and the foreclosure proceedings. As far as they were concerned, it was too little too late.

But as far as Shelley was concerned, it was just the beginning.

She called her attorney friend, Liz Cartwright-Anderson. Liz had a few minutes between appointments and asked Shelley to come in with the paperwork immediately.

Shelley slid the papers into her carryall, scooped up Austin and headed out to her car. And just that quickly, the morning went from bad to worse. Her right front tire was flat as a pancake.

Shelley sighed and clapped her hand against her forehead.

Austin, who was still in her arms, looked over at her, cocked his head seriously and slapped his palm on his forehead, too.

Shelley laughed through her tears.

And that was when Colt McCabe happened to drive by again.

* * *

ALL COLT WANTED AS HE HEADED down Spring Street toward his home was a quick bite and a good six hours’ sleep. After being on duty all night and most of the morning, he was dragging.

He perked up the moment he saw Shelley walk out of her house, her little boy cradled in her arms.

Damn, but she was beautiful with her auburn hair upswept, her lithe dancer’s body clad in a delicate blouse, knee-length khaki skirt and sandals. But...hold on a second. Was she crying? Or laughing? Or a little bit of both?

His glance followed the direction of her gaze. He saw the deflated tire and knew the gentlemanly thing to do was to stop and offer aid. So he steered over to the curb, just short of her driveway, parked and got out. Shirttail of his rumpled Oxford hanging over a pair of old jeans, he ambled toward her. “Car trouble?”

A jerky nod as more tears flowed.

Austin leaned forward and patted Shelley on the cheeks. “Momma crying...” the little boy pronounced to Colt as if that were the most curious thing in the whole world.

“I can see that.” Seeing her tears, it was all Colt could do not to pull Shelley into his arms to offer her the comfort she so desperately needed. He smiled down at her son, and then looked back at her. “Got a spare?”

“Yes.” Shelley sniffed. “In the trunk. But there’s no time.” She sucked in a deep breath that lifted her breasts against the soft cotton of her pale yellow blouse. “I’ve got to get these papers to Liz Cartwright-Anderson’s office now or she’s not going to have time to look at them today.”

The fatigue Colt had been feeling faded. He steered her toward his pickup. “Then let’s go. I’ll drive you.”

Shelley hesitated for a moment and looked as if she wanted to argue, then was forced to give in. “Thanks. I would really appreciate it.”

Colt got the car seat from her Prius and installed it in the rear seat of his pickup truck. She sent him an admiring glance, reminiscent of their high school days. “That was quick. It always takes me forever.”

Colt slid behind the wheel, glad to see Shelley had regained her composure. Trying not to think how comfortable this all felt, he started his truck and headed out. “I teach a class on the proper installation of safety seats over at the community center. It’s part of my duties as a sheriff’s deputy.”

Which was, as it turned out, the wrong thing to say since it quickly reminded her he’d been the one to serve her with the foreclosure and eviction notice that very morning. Lips pursed, she kept her attention focused on the scenery until they reached their destination five minutes later. Shelley leaped out and opened the rear door. “Well, thanks for the ride.”

Reluctant for their time together to end, Colt moved to assist her with her son. “If you want, I could hang out with Austin while you talk to Liz.”

Again, she seemed ready to refuse.

Austin gave her reason to rethink that decision as he glanced up at a nearby tree. “Bird, Momma!” he shouted enthusiastically, after being lifted from his car seat. “Look!” He grabbed his mother’s face. “Look, Momma, look!”

Shelley mollified her son, then gazed over at Colt in resignation. “Okay, but seriously, this is the last favor I’m taking from you.”

Colt respected her independence even as he doubted the viability of her declaration. He favored her with an accepting nod, and joined her in the office that housed the law practice of Liz Cartwright-Anderson and her husband, Travis Anderson.

Shelley plucked the hand-carved little red truck from her bag and handed it to her son. “You’re going to stay with Colt while I go talk to Liz,” she explained to her son.

Austin scowled. “No!” He shouted at the top of his lungs when his mother attempted to leave. “I. Go. Momma!” He vaulted out of the chair she’d set him in and wrapped himself around Shelley’s leg, refusing to let go. Sighing, she sent Colt another apologetic glance and picked Austin up.

“Yell if you need me.” Colt sat down in the waiting room and opened a magazine.

Mother and son disappeared down a hall.

More shouting followed, at earsplitting levels. “I. Want. My. Deppity!”

Shelley appeared again. She looked at her wit’s end with her irascible toddler. “Do you mind coming back?” she asked in desperation. “Maybe Austin will sit on your lap.”

“Sure thing.” Colt rose casually and joined her in the hallway.

The little boy grabbed a handful of Colt’s shirt and latched on to Shelley’s delicate cotton blouse with his other. “Deppity and Momma!” he said with a satisfied grin.

His mother was not amused. “Someone needs an N-A-P,” Shelley muttered beneath her breath.

Austin shook his head, then fixed his gaze toward the ceiling. His head fell sideways, until it rested on Colt’s shoulder. “No nap,” Austin declared just as feistily, clearly able to spell at least one word. He turned, and with both hands suddenly reached for Colt again. “I want my deppity.”

“Looks like you have your hands full,” Colt murmured to Shelley.

She sighed with the fatigue of a single mom. “You have no idea...”

Still, he couldn’t help but think, she handled it all well.

Their old friend appeared in a stylish suit and heels, her hair cut in the short, practical style common to working mothers. Liz smiled, understanding as only another mom to a toddler could. A wicker basket of toys in hand, sheaf of papers tucked beneath her arm, she ushered everyone into the conference room and motioned for them to take a seat.

While Austin sat on Colt’s lap and dug into the toys, Liz explained to Shelley, “I just looked up the court documents. The debt in question was run up by your ex-husband, Tully Laffer. He apparently took out a line of credit against the property you inherited from your parents, at 903 Spring Street, here in Laramie.”

A look of panic crossed Shelley’s pretty face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She held up both palms. “Tully doesn’t have any ownership in that property. Although we initially inherited it jointly, it was given to me in the divorce settlement, free and clear.”

“His name is still on the deed,” her attorney retorted.

“Which means what?” Shelley asked, appearing even more frantic.

Liz sobered. “As far as the law is concerned, your ex is still part-owner. Which is why the liens were placed on the property.”

Shelley wrung her hands. Austin mimicked his mom and did the same. “Why didn’t anyone tell me any of this?”

“Letters were sent—” Liz shifted a paper Shelley’s way “—to this townhome in Dallas.”

Shelley looked at the address and then her shoulders slumped. “That’s where we lived when we were married. Where Tully still lives.”

Liz continued, “When Tully didn’t respond to the notices from the bank or the collection agency they hired to enforce the debt, the bank took him to court. He did not appear and a default judgment was made in the bank’s favor.” She paused. “The property was foreclosed on last week, and you now have ten days to vacate the premises. Meanwhile, arrangements have already been made to sell the property at auction.”

“On the courthouse steps of the county that it is in, on the first Tuesday of each month.” Shelley recited the facts she had already committed to memory.

Liz nodded. “Right. Which means you have ten days before the eviction takes place, sixteen before it’s actually auctioned.”

Shelley sat back in her chair, her expression sober. “All right. What’s next? How do I stop this?”

“I can take the case to court and ask that the lien be reversed at least temporarily since you were not given proper notice.”

“And if the judge agrees?” Shelley asked, seeming not to breathe, as Austin cuddled against Colt’s chest.

“It will buy us some time but that’s all.” The noted attorney paused briefly to let her words sink in. “You are still going to have to deal with Tully’s one hundred and fifty thousand dollar debt.”

* * *

COLT DROVE SHELLEY AND HER SON home. He offered to stay around long enough for her to make a few calls. It wasn’t much of a sacrifice. Little Austin was adorable and so well behaved. The boy unearthed Colt’s yearning to have a son and a woman to come home to. It sure beat his lonely house down the street.

Unfortunately, judging by the demoralized expression on her face, the latter part of Shelley’s morning went no better than the first. “No luck?” Colt asked when she joined them on the front porch, where he and Austin sat on the chain-hung swing.

“Momma!” Austin said, reaching for her.

Shelley caught him before he lost his balance and fell off the seat of the swing. Because he still had a hold of Colt, too, she sat down beside them, her baby boy wedging distance between them.

“None.” Her slender shoulders slumped. “I’ve left messages for Tully everywhere. He hasn’t responded.”

Colt turned his glance away from the sexy glimpse of soft, silky thigh peeking out from beneath the hem of her khaki skirt. He focused on the pretty contours of her oval face. “Is this typical?”

She went still for one telling beat. “When it comes to financial matters? Oh, yes. He’s as irresponsible as the day is long.”

He stared at her, wanting like hell to understand. “And you married him anyway.” When she had to have known...

Shelley turned and met his searching gaze with a bravado strictly her own. “When I first met him, he was a heck of a lot of fun. I wanted to go everywhere and see everything and break out of the small-town Texas mold. Thanks to Tully’s trust fund, he and I had the means to go just about everywhere. Or so I thought,” she finished darkly.

“Go on,” he said gruffly, having an unsettling feeling that he knew where this was headed.

“Turns out he’d blown through much of his money by the time he met me. Credit cards and cash advances were footing a lot of our travels. Until it all caught up with us anyway, on our fifth wedding anniversary. Suddenly—” Shelley drew in a jerky breath “—we not only did not have a dime to our names, we couldn’t charge anything, either. It was then I found out that instead of three credit cards charged to the max, we had twenty-five.”

Colt blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. His entire trust fund was gone. Our debt went well into the six figures.” Her shame and anger was palpable. “His parents bailed us out. That time. They insisted we both get regular jobs and live within our means. And for a time, we did. Or at least I did.”

Colt braced for the rest, suspecting by the regret in her voice that it had been bad.

“Unable to live on a budget, Tully secretly got a couple of cards with predatory lenders. You know, ones with thirty percent interest rates. When he maxed those out, the credit card companies sent us to collections.”

“Which is when you found out.”

Shelley’s chin took on the stubborn tilt he knew so well. “Tully still didn’t think it was a big deal. But I couldn’t live that way. And coupled with the fact that I was pregnant, well...it was clear we were definitely not meant to be together.”

“So you ended it?” he asked in a soft voice.

She nodded. “To my relief, Tully agreed to a divorce. He didn’t like my ‘uptight’ attitude any more than I liked his irresponsibility. My attorney managed to get Tully’s new debts assigned only to him. Rather than see him go to the poorhouse, his parents bailed him out again. And I got the house I had inherited from my folks, free and clear. It’s in the divorce papers. I just verified that much.”

“But the title to this house wasn’t changed at the time of your divorce,” Colt guessed as Austin climbed out of his arms and off the seat of the swing.

Shelley sighed. “No. It wasn’t,” she said, watching her son toddle over to get his little red truck. “And it should have been.”

“So now what?”

Austin wedged between Colt’s legs and ran the wooden vehicle up and down his jean-clad thigh.

She cast a worried look at him, wondering if Colt minded his leg being used as a racetrack, complete with a lot of vrooming noises. She spoke above her rowdy son. “We cross our fingers and hope that Liz is able to talk a judge into throwing out the default judgment against me. So I can keep my house.”

Colt let her know with a slight lift of his hand he didn’t mind her son’s playfulness. “And then?”

“I’m going to get the title changed and make sure the one hundred and fifty thousand dollar debt Tully incurred with the credit line against my house is assigned only to him. In the meantime—” she reached over and resituated Austin up on her lap, the action pulling the hem of her skirt several inches higher on her thigh “—I’ve got my first set of dance lessons to teach this afternoon, and let’s not forget that the bride and groom are supposed to be in Laramie this evening.”

Acutely aware her legs were sexier than ever, Colt said, “Ah, yes, the wedding.”

Looking more sweetly maternal than ever, Shelley ruffled her baby boy’s hair and hugged him close. “Right now, that’s about the only thing, save this little guy, that can make me smile.”

* * *

“TURNS OUT I’M GOING TO NEED more help with this wedding than I thought,” Kendall told Shelley over the phone, later that afternoon.

Shelley walked toward the community center drop-off day care, where her son would stay while she taught dance classes. “I’m maid of honor,” she told her longtime best friend. Although the two of them had lived thousands of miles apart the past few years, they were still like sisters. Sensing this was going to take a minute, Shelley ducked outside and found her way to one of the benches on the property. “That’s my job.”

Kendall paused. “How are you at tasting and selecting a wedding cake?”

“Sounds like a fun job.” Shelley rummaged through her bag for her notepad and pen. “No question there. But isn’t that done by the bride and groom?” She got ready to write.

Kendall inhaled deeply. “It was supposed to be. We have an appointment with the Sugar Love bakery in Laramie at seven this evening. The only problem is, Gerry and I are still in Bethesda.”

Maryland? Shelley thought in shock, momentarily putting down her pen. “Why? What happened?”

“Gerry started running a little fever this morning, so we went by the naval hospital to have him checked out by his doc there, and it turns out he has a mild pneumonia.”

“Oh, no!”

“The staff treated and released him, but they don’t want him to fly right now. We’re going to have to drive to Texas when he’s given the all clear to travel, and that won’t be for a few days. The good news is—” Kendall’s voice cracked “—the movers hadn’t actually packed up any of our stuff yet, so we still have a place to stay, although there are boxes everywhere.”

“Oh, hon....”

“Now, don’t start,” Kendall ordered in a low, quavering voice, “or you really will make me cry.”

Right. Deep breath. Shelley focused on the practical and asked calmly, “What can I do to help?”

“Keep my appointment at the bakery and pick out a cake. We’ve been best friends forever. You know what I like.”

Shelley made a few notes. “Anything with coconut, butter cream frosting and strawberries.”

“Pretty much. Although Gerry’s favorites are dark chocolate and pecans, so whatever you can come up with that will look wedding-ish and still fit our budget, which the bakery already has, would be great.”

“Don’t you worry.” Shelley wrote some more. “I’m on it.”

“You’re sure? I know you just moved in, too.”

“It’s not a problem. Honestly. You just take care of Gerry. I’ll manage everything here.”

Luckily, Shelley’s sitter was available to watch Austin, and would stay until she got back from the bakery. By the time she got her son in his stroller and walked the short distance from the community center to her home, the sitter was already there.

With the two of them already playing happily, Shelley went upstairs to change out of her leotard and skirt, into a spaghetti-strapped sundress and flats. It was only when she walked out to the driveway that she realized she hadn’t taken care of the Prius’s flat tire yet.

But someone had.

She stared down at her car, perfect as could be.

And there was only one knight in shining armor who would have had the audacity to ignore her instructions to leave the flat tire be and fix it anyway. Steam practically coming out of her ears, Shelley drove her car halfway down the block, parked and got out. Sure enough, Colt McCabe’s pickup truck was sitting in the driveway, and his dog, Buddy, was lounging on the porch of his Craftsman-style charcoal-and-white home.

Aware she had just enough time to handle this without being late for her appointment at the bakery, she marched up to his front door. Buddy rose, tail wagging, as she rang the bell.

Colt answered. Decked out in a dark blue button-up shirt, neatly pressed jeans and brown dress boots, he looked ready for a date. He smelled incredible, too. Like sandalwood, soap and leather.

His gaze roved the floral fabric of her formfitting dress. Smile deepening, he returned his attention to her eyes. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” he drawled, holding open the storm door. “Come on in.”

Figuring it would be best not to have this conversation on the porch, where any of the neighbors could witness it, Shelley walked on in, Buddy on her heels. He brushed against her, clearly wanting to be petted.

Colt snapped his fingers and pointed at a thick corduroy pillow lying in front of the field stone fireplace. “Buddy. Cushion.”

Inside, his house was neat and clean. In the living room, a coordinating multicolored braided rug covered the wide plank floor. The upholstered sofa and comfortable club chairs were covered in a masculine dove-gray tweed fabric. Table lamps were formed out of a heavy dark bronze. A burnished mahogany coffee table, captain’s desk and end tables completed the decor.

Shelley supposed the casual elegance and pulled-together decorating scheme shouldn’t surprise her. Though Colt did his best to ignore it, he came from money, too. Lots of it.

Word was, his multimillionaire investor father and wildcatter mother had set up substantial trusts for all five of their sons that were, for the most part, ignored by their fiercely proud offspring.

He lifted his eyebrows and waited for her gaze to meet his. “What’s up?”

“Did you fix my flat tire?” Shelley demanded, indignation flushing her cheeks.

Colt’s eyes twinkled. “Why do I think if I say yes I’ll be shot at dawn?”

“Just answer the question.”

He rubbed the flat of his hand across his newly shaven jaw. “I might know something about that.”

“I told you not to do that.”

“Yeah, I know.” Heat emanating from his big, rugged frame, he shrugged and offered, “But I figured you had enough on your plate right now and took matters into my own hands...”

Shelley hung on to her patience by a thread. “What do I owe you then?”

“Nothing.” He gave her another long, slow once-over before returning his gaze ever so deliberately to her face. “I was being neighborly.”

Finding him too close for comfort, Shelley stepped back, bumping into an end table in the process. “Well, I can’t just accept it without giving you anything in return.”

“Because that would make you beholden to me.”

“Yes.” Shelley propped her hands on her hips. “And I don’t want to be.”

Colt’s expression changed. “You really want to help me out, too?”

Wasn’t that what she had just been saying? “Yes!”

He hooked a hand around her waist and tugged her forward so they were standing toe-to-toe. “Then do me one little favor,” he encouraged softly, his head slanting slowly downward, “and return this.”

Chapter Four

It was, Shelley realized, their first kiss in years. And yet it felt as if no time at all had elapsed. Colt still took command with no effort at all. He still tasted and felt the same, so strong and sure and masculine. He still turned her world upside down.

She had dreamed of this moment forever, even as she had warned herself that it would never happen. And the fact of the matter was, she thought, as she abruptly came to her senses and pushed him away, it shouldn’t be happening now. “Whoa there, Deputy!”

The look Colt gave her reminded her of the way he had always liked to end a fight—with a slow, hot kiss that left her barely able to stand on two feet, never mind recall what they had been disagreeing about.

He grinned at her, the way he had then, too—all lazy, confident male. “And here we were just getting to know each other again,” he teased, reaching out to caress her cheek.

Shelley moved away from him and released an indignant breath. “When it comes to the two of us, someone has to put on the brakes.”

Buddy lifted his head, curious.

“We’re not kids anymore, Shelley,” Colt reminded her.

“That’s right.” She ignored the dark, soulful eyes of his dog, the expression relaying to Shelley that his owner was a good guy.

“And as adults we should both know better,” she snapped, irked to find herself so vulnerable again.

She shouldn’t want Colt. Shouldn’t still be tingling from head to toe....

He gave her a once-over that left her all the more aroused. “You said you forgave me.”

Shelley drew in a long, bracing breath. “I said I wanted us to be friends.”

His blue eyes filled with merriment. “I can be friendly.”

His low sexy tone made her think of kisses that rocked her world. It was all Shelley could do not to groan out loud. “Not that kind of pal.”

“No bed buddies?”

Great, now she was thinking of him naked beneath the sheets. “No bed buddies. And,” she added emphatically, before he could go there, too, “no boyfriend-girlfriend, either.”

He chuckled. “I don’t recall asking you out on a date.”

She slid him a long look. “You did something even worse.”

He folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. “I can’t wait to hear what that might be.”

Shelley harrumphed. “You have inserted yourself in my life.”

He flashed a smile that sent another low, throbbing beat of anticipation rushing through her. “By fixing your tire.”

Shelley swallowed. “And making friends with my son, and having me make peace with Buddy...and heaven only knows what else.”

Hearing his name, Buddy rose and lumbered arthritically over to stand next to Shelley. He looked up, waiting to be petted.

Unable to resist the dog’s dark, liquid eyes, Shelley knelt beside him to stroke his head, taking comfort in Buddy’s soft, silky fur. “We can’t go back, Colt.” Briefly, she buried her face in the dog’s neck, and could have sworn that she almost felt Buddy “hug” her in return.

Colt ambled over. He petted Buddy, too, then took Shelley by the hand and brought her around to face him. “I don’t want to go back.” He stepped closer, his eyes heavy-lidded and sexy.

Shelley hitched in a breath as Buddy moseyed off again. “We can’t pretend we want the same things.”

A low, wry laugh rumbled out of him. “When I was kissing you just now, it felt like we did.”

Shelley flushed. Struggling to hold on to her equilibrium, she said, “Obviously, we’re going to see each other. We live in the same town, on the same street. I’m fine with saying hello and being polite to each other.”

His smile reminded her that he knew things about her that no one else did. Like how she most wanted to be kissed...

“But then you want us to keep right on going,” Colt guessed.

Part of Shelley wanted to spend just one night making love with him, so she’d know what it felt like. The other half knew once would never ever be enough. And that in turn could lead to another breakup, which her heart really couldn’t bear. She sensed, despite his bravado, that another ending would be just as tough on him, if only in regard to his pride.

“Intimacy of any kind just isn’t in the cards for us,” she told him. “Never has been. Never will be.”

* * *

SHELLEY HAD JUST ARRIVED AT THE Sugar Love bakery when the door opened and closed behind her. She turned to see Colt stride in and head straight for her side. “What are you doing here?” Shelley demanded before she could stop herself. Every time she turned around, he was there again!

He grinned at her prickly manner. “Gerry asked me to pick out the groom’s cake. Make sure it wasn’t too girly.”

Shock turned to annoyance. “You could have warned me when we were at your place.” Instead, as always, he left her feeling slightly off-kilter.

He shrugged in all innocence. “I tried, but we were too busy...”

Betty, the pastry chef, quirked a brow at the low note of innuendo in Colt’s voice, prompting Shelley to jump in to lamely finish his sentence. “Talking about everything that happened, and getting caught up on things.”

His hot gaze skimmed her face. “We made a start...that’s for sure.”

No, Shelley thought. “We’re already there.”

Colt just smiled. Tingling everywhere his eyes had touched and everywhere they hadn’t, she turned back to Betty.

“Kendall and Gerry want six round layers, all different flavors,” the baker told them. “They are leaving it to you two to taste and select the cake.”

“How about a plain vanilla one on the bottom?” Shelley suggested, anxious to get this over with.

Looking as if he was enjoying this way too much, Colt offered, “Followed by dark chocolate.”

Which he knew was Shelley’s absolute favorite. Darn the man, he just wouldn’t quit.

Betty offered up individual bites of each. Colt and Shelley simultaneously savored the deep, delicious flavors and voted yes on both. “Maybe a layer of strawberry cake on top of that,” Shelley said, after tasting the next most popular menu item.

“And then carrot raisin,” Colt chimed in.

Shelley wrinkled her nose. “After strawberry?” she echoed, incredulous.

He nodded, his impish eyes at odds with the solemn expression on his face. “This way they’d have their fruits and veggies in one cake.”

A notion that went, Shelley acknowledged, right along with Gerry’s wicked sense of humor. It was why he and Colt had been such good friends growing up. When they’d all stopped chuckling, Betty suggested, “How about a toasted almond layer in between the strawberry and the carrot, for aesthetic sake?”

“I could go with that,” Colt demurred.

And on they went. By the time they had finished choosing everything from the exact shade of buttercream frosting, and the bride and groom figurines for the top of the cake, an hour had passed. The order placed, Colt and Shelley walked out of the bakery. They weren’t hand in hand, but by that point, it almost felt as if they were.

“Funny, I always thought if we ever got to this point, it’d be our wedding cake we were picking out,” Colt blurted out.

His surprisingly sentimental words mirrored her wistful feelings. Which was why, Shelley told herself, she had to be practical. Pushing aside her own wish that everything had turned out differently for the two of them, Shelley countered, “If and didn’t happen being the operative words.” She slanted him a warning glance.

He didn’t back down. “If it matters...” he confessed gruffly. “Standing you up on prom night was the single biggest mistake of my life.”

Not forgiving his tardiness and going with him, hours late, had been hers. Knowing she could easily fall for him all over again made her cautious. The urge to slip her hand into his even stronger, she met the intensity of his gaze. “And why is that, Deputy?”

“Because if I’d kept that commitment, you and I might still be together now.”

Nostalgia, regret and longing combined to give her a passionate punch to the gut. She turned away. “You already said you knew we weren’t right for each other then.” Just as she did now.

He put his hands on her shoulders and brought her right back. “Maybe I was wrong about that.” Colt gazed soberly down at her. “Maybe what wasn’t right were the plans we had for that night. The truth is, I didn’t want to take your virginity that way. Even as young as I was, I knew you deserved so much more than a clandestine hookup on an air mattress in a borrowed tent at Lake Laramie campgrounds.”

Like it or not, Shelley knew this stuff had to be said. She took his arm and propelled him into the nearby alley, well out of earshot, so they could have this out in private. She looked deep into his eyes, wishing she didn’t want so badly to kiss and hold him and spend every waking second with him again. Because she well knew giving into temptation would only bring heartache. The two of them were just too different for the outcome to be otherwise.

She leaned up against the warmth of the historic brick building, protected from the passing cars and steady stream of pedestrian traffic on the adjacent Main Street. “First of all, it’s not like we had a lot of options, since concerned parents were staking out local hotels to make sure high school students didn’t end up there. So if we wanted to be together and avoid detection, we had to go with the more rustic Plan B.”

She took a deep, bolstering breath. “Second of all, I was very much on board with what was going down. I knew the risks...yet still wanted the rewards.” Wanted you. “And you did, too.”

His memory clearly jarred, he favored her with a half smile that sent tingles soaring through her.

“What happened back then was mutual,” Shelley continued softly. “You and I both enlisted the help of all our friends to cover for us. We both planned that rendezvous down to the last detail.”

“I remember,” he said thickly.

“Then you should also remember that in the weeks leading up to that night, I didn’t feel in the least bit shortchanged by the rustic setting of the campground. On the contrary, I was certain that making love to each other for the very first time on senior prom night was going to make it all that more special.”

It would have bonded them together for an eternity. Just as the abrupt cancellation of their highly romantic plans had flung them apart for what felt like forever.

Shelley swallowed a lump in her throat. “But for a lot of reasons we chose not to go down that path.” Her heart had been trampled on, and she had been humiliated in front of all their friends. “So you have to quit talking about prom night,” Shelley insisted. “It does neither of us any good.”

“Can’t help it,” Colt returned just as stubbornly. “I’m a guy who likes to rectify his mistakes.”

“Or see what it would have been like on the road not taken?” Shelley retorted.

Colt shook his head, refusing to be dissuaded from his trip down memory lane. “Seeing you again, being with you, has brought it all back.”

For her, too.

He sifted a hand through her hair and continued huskily, “Wishing I had followed through on all my promises to you—”

And made love to me, Shelley guessed.

“—is all I can think about.”

She couldn’t help it: she’d been fantasizing, too. And although they were both single again now, she was also a mom with parental responsibilities to fulfill—and a myriad of personal financial problems to sort out. She could not afford to be an impetuous romantic anymore. Nor could she take the kind of emotional gamble he proposed. Especially knowing he could shut her out again at any time.

“Then think about something different, Colt.” Shelley put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. “Because what we planned for that evening is never going to happen. All we can be from this point forward is friends. Good friends, but...” She stopped in midsentence, blinked, sure her eyes were playing tricks on her.

But there he was at the other end of the alley. The exact person she’d been trying to find.

* * *

“TULLY.”

Shelley’s gasp rang in the alley as her ex-husband, the man Colt had loathed from the first moment he’d set eyes on him, strode toward them.

“I heard you were looking for me,” Tully Laffer said.

Several inches shorter than Colt, clad in plaid shorts, coordinating polo shirt and deck shoes, expensive sunglasses shading his eyes, he looked more ready for a party on his parents’ yacht than an evening in a small West Texas town.

Colt knew the polite thing to do would be to excuse himself and let the two exes talk in private. However, he wasn’t feeling particularly well mannered. He never did when Tully was around.

Fortunately, Colt noted, Shelley was focused totally on her ex—and not his dubious attitude. She stormed toward Tully, hands knotted at her sides. “Did you take out a line of credit against my parents’ house?”

Tully took off his sunglasses and hooked them in the front of his shirt. “I needed collateral to get the loan to start my adventure-tours business.”

Shelley looked as though she wanted to punch him. “Then your business better pay me back. Pronto.”

Tully shoved a hand through his thinning, sun-streaked hair. “I’d like to. Really, I would, Shel.”

“But?” Shelley continued to stare down her ex.

Colt couldn’t say he blamed her. It appeared her ex-husband was just as much an irresponsible party boy now as he had been when she had met him.

Tully gestured impotently. “I never quite got the biz off the ground. I mean, I went to a lot of the places I was going to offer packages on, like Belize, Aruba and Tibet, but it’s a lot more work getting things arranged than I bargained on.”

Shelley stepped backward, her body nudging Colt’s in the process. “You knew what the property settlement was at the time of our divorce, that you had no claim to that house I inherited.”

“Technically, yeah. But when I went to apply for the loan and the property turned up in my name, too, they said I could use it.”

“So you decided to commit fraud?” Colt asked, feeling bereft when Shelley moved slightly to the left so she was no longer touching him.

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