The Lawman's Christmas Proposal

He thought again of his family’s efforts to get him out to the ranch. Their methods had sent up a red flag. Something wasn’t right about their determination.

“You do much riding out at Jed’s?” he asked.

“Not as much anymore,” she admitted.

“Mom says you spend weekends there, though.”

To his surprise, her cheeks turned red. “Well, I go to see Daffodil. She’s old, you know.”

“Yeah. She had been getting up there even when I worked the ranch. She always thought she should be treated like a queen.”

“Jed said she earned that right. And Eddie... I mean, Pete thinks she likes when I visit.”

“Sounds like Eddie-I-mean-Pete knows a thing or two about horses.”

Laughing, she smacked his arm, the way she had done a hundred times before. It surprised him to realize he’d missed that, along with roughhousing with the boys.

“All right,” she said, “I meant Eddie. He takes care of the stables.”

Just the job he’d had the first time he’d seen Andi. The luckiest day of his life till then.

It looked as though his little sister might have the same kind of good fortune. Maybe hers would last. “Am I going to have to play biggest brother and give the guy a warning about being good to my sister?”

“Show him your gun. That’ll work even better.”

His hands clamped onto the steering wheel so tightly, he could barely make the turn into the drive. The flash of memory that hit made him wince.

PTSD, the psychiatrist assigned to him after the shooting had labeled it, the body giving way as remembered trauma took control. According to the shrink, the stress showed up in different ways.

Yeah, he’d dealt with that, right after the...incident. It had eased up a lot since then. He was fine. Fine, except for those nights he woke up in a sweat. And those times he paced his apartment to outrun the demons chasing him.

And, so it seemed, when he heard his baby sister joke about his weapon.

He parked near the corral on Garland Ranch and shot a glance at the woman who stood outside the fence, her back to them. Andi. He thought of all the drugs the shrink had offered him and he had refused. Seeing Andi again made him feel better than any drug ever could.

With one boot planted on the lowest rail, she watched a blond-haired little boy on a small Shetland. Her son, Trey, he had no doubt.

“That’s him,” Laurie said, as if she’d read his mind. But one glance told him her mind was on the teenager leading the horse. He’d wager he knew who that was, too.

By the time he had eased out of the truck and made his way around it, Laurie had left him far behind.

Either Andi had no interest in newcomers or she hadn’t recognized Laurie as his sister, because she hadn’t moved from her spot near the rail. He had time to notice the fall of blond hair around her shoulders and the way her jeans hugged her curves. He even had time to remember how it had felt to hold those curves. By the time she turned to look his way, he’d broken into a sweat brought on by the memories. That was the kind of healing meds he needed.

Dragging his shirtsleeve across his brow, he took a deep breath. Then he moved forward, cursing his knee brace and every halting step she had to see.

She clung to the top rail the way he’d gripped the steering wheel. Her gaze shot toward the barn.

“Eddie and Laurie are with the boy. Your son?”

She nodded.

“Tell me about your kids.”

The light in her face told him he’d said the right thing. The same light he once saw when she looked at him.

“Trey is two, almost three.”

“Ah. The terrible twos?” When her eyes widened in surprise, he shrugged. “I remember my brothers and sisters going through them.”

“Well, I’ll admit my son has had his moments.” A smile lit her face even more. “It’s been good for Trey to be here on the ranch and around Tina’s son, Robbie, and Pete’s two kids. You remember Pete Brannigan?”

He nodded. “Jed said he’s ranch manager now. And he did mention the kids.”

“Yes. He has a girl and boy of his own. All three of the kids are just old enough not to take any interest yet in my daughter, Missy.”

“She’s...?”

“Six months.”

“Yeah, she’s young.” He did the math. By rights, he and Andi could have started a family of their own before either of her kids had been born. But she had left him, and they had lost their chance.

The sudden faraway look in her eyes prompted him into speech. “Jed tells me you’re staying at the hotel.”

“Temporarily,” she shot back.

He winced at the echo of his response when Jed had mentioned his coming home. Hopefully, he hadn’t sounded as defensive. Looked as if Andi didn’t plan to stay around Cowboy Creek. Neither did he.

“I’m only here through the holidays,” she added.

“This is just a short visit for me, too.”

“And then you’ll go back to Los Angeles.”

She sounded as if what he did concerned her. He couldn’t trust that he’d read her right. But he would bet good money she hadn’t forgotten their summer.

He would never forget that day he’d looked across the barn to find the hottest girl he’d ever seen standing in the doorway, a blonde angel in a T-shirt, jeans and riding boots. He’d fallen head over heels and would have sworn she’d done the same.

Every day, once his work at the ranch was done, they had spent as much time together as they could. Until that one day she had just up and left without saying a word.

But here they were.

He had the feeling she was about to repeat history and walk off. “I belong in LA,” he said, half to remind himself and half to keep her with him, as pathetic as both of those felt for him to admit. “I’m with the police department.”

“That’s a dangerous job. A tough one for you, and just as hard on your wife and kids.”

As she ought to have seen by her own husband’s death, in the right—or wrong—circumstances, any job had its risks. He shook his head. “I don’t have a wife. Or any family there. It’s just me.”

Alone at home. On his own on the job.

And now standing here beside the girl who’d started him down that road.

He couldn’t stop himself from reaching up to gently stroke the fine, lined skin near her eye.

“I’m not wearing well,” she said with a forced laugh.

“We’ve all gotten older.” But maybe not wiser. He cupped her cheek with his palm. The warmth spreading through his hand more than made up for the risk he’d taken in touching her. For a brief moment, she tilted her head, resting against his hand. Her reaction closed the gap left by all the years they had lost. It finally chased away all his resentment.

Her eyes misted. She turned away. “I’m sorry about not contacting you. Everything was just too much for me. I had to focus on my mom.”

She looked toward the barn, as if planning to head over there. He didn’t want her to leave.

“That’s a big load for an eighteen-year-old to handle,” he said.

“For anyone to handle, believe me.” She sighed. “Sometimes, life doesn’t seem fair.”

“That’s because it isn’t. We all get the luck of the draw—and sometimes it’s bad luck.”

Just what he’d heard from everyone back in LA.

After a quick nod, Andi walked away.

He leaned against the rail, easing the pressure on his knee, and watched her go. That summer afternoon years ago, he’d had no idea he wouldn’t see her again. Would the same thing happen now? Was he simply destined to have bad luck when it came to her?

Though he could parrot the words his buddies on the force had told him, that didn’t mean he wanted to accept their verdict about the situation.

And though everything in him said he should keep his distance from Andi, that didn’t mean he had the strength to heed his own warning.

Chapter Four

As she crossed the yard to the barn, Andi could almost feel Mitch’s gaze on her back. She could definitely still feel the warmth filling her from the touch of his hand against her cheek. In that one all-too-brief moment, she had changed into a teen again, and he had become the boy she loved. In his eyes in that moment, she saw the boy who loved her, too.

But their teenagers-in-lust days were long over.

Resolutely, she focused on the group standing in the barn doorway and kept moving toward them, away from Mitch and his warm hands and his crooked smile and his unfamiliar stiff-legged walk.

When she approached the group, her son gave her the wide grin that always reminded her so much of his daddy. “Mommy, I rided Bingo.”

“I saw you,” she said. “You did a great job.”

“He did,” Eddie, the stable hand, agreed. “I’ll be happy to give him another practice run anytime.”

“I’m sure Trey would love that.”

“Yeah, Mommy, wanna ride horse. Bi-i-ig horse.”

“Don’t you worry, mister,” Eddie said, “we’ll get you up on Bingo again tomorrow. How’s that?”

“Yay!” Trey clapped his hands. No sign of the terrible twos now, as Mitch had mentioned.

With a smile, she watched Eddie ruffle her son’s hair. She didn’t need a policeman’s skills to note that the tall, quiet teen grew much more talkative every time Mitch’s sister Laurie arrived at the ranch. Whenever she saw the two of them together, the pair made her think of Mitch and herself.

With luck, this couple’s summer romance would end more happily than her and Mitch’s had done.

When he came to stand beside her, she turned to Trey. “Come on, sweetie, we need to go back to the hotel.”

“I don’t wanna! Wanna see Daff now.”

“So do I,” Laurie said quietly over his head. “Is it okay if I take him with me for just a few minutes?”

“I’ll go and keep an eye on things,” Eddie said.

His tone made it evident he considered himself responsible for everything on the ranch. Just the way Mitch had when she’d met him.

The trio entered the barn.

She went to take a seat on one of the stools the cowhands had left a few yards from the doorway. She hoped Mitch would get the hint, would follow the rest of them in to the stalls or turn and go to the hotel.

But no, he was ambling her way, moving slowly. Maybe to control his limp?

She tried not to stare. Not to let her emotions show in her expression. As a teenager, he had been a star athlete, she knew. Football quarterback. Pitcher for Cowboy Creek’s baseball team. Whatever had happened to him on the job, it would devastate him if he couldn’t return to being just as active.

He took the stool beside hers, his leg stretched out before him. He sat so close, she could count the stitches running down the leg of his jeans. “Seems like Jed’s training up another hand to join the crew.”

“Grandpa’s good at that.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “And I should know.”

“You needed to be trained?”

“Sure did. I might have bummed a ride or two on a friend’s horse when I was a kid, which meant I could handle myself in the saddle, but that was about it.”

“Why did Grandpa take you on in the first place?”

He raised a brow. “This is a dude ranch. Considering all the charm and good looks I had back then, you really have to ask that question?”

Of course, she didn’t have to ask. She remembered. He’d had plenty of charm and tons of good looks, and the years hadn’t taken any of that away. Not that she would ever admit it to him. “You don’t need either of those to groom a horse.”

“Ha,” he said with a laugh. “You never saw me trying to charm Daffodil on one of her cranky days. But Jed probably thought I’d make a good candidate for working with the hotel guests. Growing up in a family of seven, I learned how to get along with people. Like that kid in there.” He jerked his thumb toward the barn doorway. “That one’s a real talker.”

“When your sister’s around.”

“Is that so? Well, I seem to remember girls having that effect on me. Especially you.” He’d lowered his voice to a husky murmur.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and fought an urge to run.

“Tina was always the quietest cousin,” he said, “but you were on the quiet side, too. At first, I couldn’t get you to say two words in a row to me. Maybe it’s because you were an only child.”

No, because she was a tongue-tied teenager who blushed every time he looked at her. A tendency she didn’t seem to have outgrown.

“If not for you wanting to ride,” he said, “I’d bet I never would have met you.”

If he only knew. On previous vacations here, she had always enjoyed riding. Her interest had skyrocketed the summer she had discovered the new stable hand with the tousled black hair, stripped to the waist of his low-riding jeans, pitching hay into a stall. Suddenly, along with riding, she had felt the urge for twice-daily visits to Daffodil. She had dragged poor Jane, who couldn’t have cared less about horses, along with her for company. And camouflage.

“You’re still quiet,” he said.

She shrugged. “I guess we don’t have much to say to each other, do we? We never did much together, except...”

“Except hang out at the barn and sneak away to make out every chance we got?”

Her cheeks burned. “We were kids, Mitch—”

“We’re grown-ups now.”

“—and that’s all in the past. We don’t need this trip down memory lane.”

“Why not? They’re fond memories, aren’t they?”

She heard bitterness in his tone but read something else in his face. Something she couldn’t afford to see. Instead, she gazed past the corral in the direction of the creek. Another thing she couldn’t afford to envision. “Fond memories? Even the final ones?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw his hand clench on his thigh. Why was she reminding him about the way things had ended?

Because she knew they couldn’t start anything between them again.

“I’d better go check on Trey.”

He laid his hand on her arm. “Maybe I’ll give you a second chance for walking away without a word.”

“Thanks. But maybe I don’t want one.” She pulled her arm free.

“I don’t need to ask if you still feel something for me, Andi. Your reaction when I touched you a few minutes ago already gave me the answer.”

She shook her head. “That was just another quick trip down memory lane.”

“Yeah? And don’t your memories match mine?” He leaned toward her.

It took more effort than she wanted to look away from him. “Nothing matches anymore, Mitch.”

“That sounds like a woman at the end of her rope. What’s wrong?”

The question made her jump, but she forced herself to turn to him again. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“You know, one of the first things they teach rookies is to notice a perp’s expression. Always watch the ones who won’t look you in the eye—but pay equal attention to the ones who stare you down.”

“I told you, nothing’s wrong. When I said nothing matches, I just meant we don’t have anything in common anymore.” She rose from the stool. If he caught her eye again, he would trap her in that lie.

A few hurried steps past him took her into the barn, where she hoped the cool shade would ease the flush in her cheeks. What she would need to cool the rest of her, she didn’t know.

Yes, she had lied. She and Mitch had plenty in common. A mutual interest in each other. Leftover lust from their summer together. And somehow, a spark that survived despite the fact she had left him without a word.

* * *

STUNNED BY HIS close encounter with Andi, Mitch stayed in place on the stool.

He’d been so wrapped up in the idea of seeing her again today, he had spent most of the morning exercising his leg on a slow walk through town, made only a brief trip to the sheriff’s office after lunch and found himself sitting outside the school waiting to pick up his sister the minute the final bell rang.

Now he had arrived at the ranch, things hadn’t gone nearly the way he’d planned.

A black stallion trotted into the stable yard. Mitch recognized the cowboy astride the horse—Pete Brannigan, his former wrangling buddy and now the manager of Garland Ranch. By the time Pete dismounted, Mitch had risen to his feet.

The other man approached him, leading his mount. “Jed told me you were back in town. Been a heck of a long time, Mitch.”

“Yeah, it has.”

As they shook hands, Eddie came to lead the horse away. Mitch noted Laurie walking beside the boy. He tried not to notice Andi and her son emerging from the barn. She nodded at Pete before turning away.

The foreman eyed him. “I’m glad you stopped by. If you’ve got time, how about you give me a chance to shower, then come on over for a brew?” Pete lived in the manager’s house on the property, barely the length of a couple of baseball fields from the corral.

“Sure. Jed wanted us to get together. We might as well kick back while you tell me what that’s about.”

“Not a clue,” Pete said. “I saw him around noontime, but he didn’t say a word. You’ll have to find out from him for us both. Hey, Andi,” he called.

She turned back to face them. Mitch saw how carefully she kept from looking his way. No matter what she said, there was something not right. He’d have to prove that to himself...to make up for the last time he hadn’t followed his instincts.

“The boss was looking for this former cowboy earlier. Take Mitch along to the Hitching Post and help him track down Jed, will you?”

When she nodded, Pete strode into the barn.

At a much slower pace, Mitch walked to catch up with Andi and her boy. One look at her brittle smile and suddenly rigid shoulders told him how she felt about having him join them. She couldn’t have cared that much about escorting him to the hotel. Maybe she was afraid of giving herself away.

No matter how quickly she’d backed off from him and run into the barn, it had been too late. He’d already seen the truth in her widened eyes and reddening cheeks, just as he had in her reaction to his touch over at the corral. She wanted him just as much as she had years ago. But something was bothering her. Holding her back. Something she didn’t want to share with him, and maybe with anyone.

“You cowboy?” her son asked.

The kid must have remembered Pete calling him a former cowboy. He shook his head. “No, I’m a cop.”

“What’s a cop?”

“A policeman. You know, like a sheriff. With a uniform and a badge.”

“A badge? Mine.”

Andi took his hand. “You borrowed Robbie’s badge, Trey, remember?”

“Mine,” the kid repeated.

Mine, Mitch had once thought when it came to the kid’s mother.

Wishing something so didn’t make it happen. He’d first learned that years earlier with Andi’s abrupt departure. He’d had his latest lesson only a few weeks ago during an undercover op shot to hell.

Feeling he had failed in both instances didn’t sit well with him at all. He couldn’t save his partner, but he sure could try to find out what troubled Andi.

* * *

“JED IS OUT by the honeymoon cabins, I think,” Paz told them. “Tina wanted to show him something the workmen had done.”

Sagging in relief, Andi rested one hip against the kitchen table. With her son’s short legs, the walk back to the hotel had seemed to last forever. She and Mitch had discovered both the sitting room and Tina’s office empty. Now, thanks to Paz, she could send Mitch off on his own.

“Looks like you’re busy in here,” he said.

Paz nodded. Cooling racks filled with cakes and cookies had taken over almost every flat surface. The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and cloves. “It’s never too early to start my Christmas baking.”

“Cookie, Paz,” Trey demanded.

“What do you say?” Andi prompted him.

“Please.”

Smiling, Paz took a cookie from one of the racks.

“Let’s go track down Jed,” Mitch said.

Andi frowned. “You can do that on your own. I’ll stay here with Trey.”

“I think I’ve forgotten how to get to the cabins.”

She glanced at him, then away again. After what he had said about cops, she didn’t know which was worse from his perspective, locking gazes with him or refusing to look his way at all. She knew what was better for her. Looking. Staring. Getting her fill.

Better for her, but much too risky.

“That’s fine, Andi,” Paz said. “You leave Trey with me and go right along with Mitch.”

“Great,” he said, halfway across the room without waiting for her answer.

Grimly, she followed him out to the porch and down the steps. He took his time, favoring his bad leg. Despite her irritation with him, she had to bite her lip to keep from asking how much he hurt.

She was so wrapped up in concern for him, she hadn’t realized he’d reached the bottom step. He turned back, catching her off guard. Instinctively, she bit down harder, then winced from her own pain.

“It is that bad?” he asked. “Seeing how I hobble down steps like a two-year-old who’s just learned to walk?”

“You handled those steps quite a bit better than my two-year-old does,” she said matter-of-factly. Still, knowing how Mitch must feel made her eyes mist.

“Those tears for me?”

“Of course they’re not.” While she had stopped a couple of steps up, he stood on the ground, putting them at eye level. This time, she was determined not to look away, no matter how his cop’s training would interpret her stare. No matter how shaky her reaction to his blue eyes left her feeling. “I accidentally bit my lip and it hurts. Not as much as your knee must, though, I’m sure.”

“I don’t need your pity, Andi.”

“That wasn’t pity. It was a not-very-smooth attempt to find out what happened.”

“Why? So you can fix it?”

“I never said—”

“You didn’t have to. There’s nothing wrong with me a few weeks of rest won’t cure. And maybe this.”

Before she could blink, he had cupped the back of her head as gently as he had cupped her cheek, urging her toward him. Once his mouth met hers, she had nothing but the memories of another time and another place and all the feelings that came with them.

For this one long, heart-stopping, teenager-in-lust-again moment, she loved Mitch Weston as desperately as she had the last day they had been together. She kissed him as desperately, too, without a thought for her tender lip or her obligations or anything but how she’d always felt when Mitch held her. He was broader now, sturdier, more muscled...and an even better kisser.

Reluctantly, she pulled herself together, resting her hands on his wide shoulders to anchor herself. No, to prepare herself. Finally, she pushed away.

Her legs trembling, she went down the rest of the steps, fighting the urge to raise her hand to her mouth. To touch the warmth he had left against her lips. To hold back the words she would not and couldn’t afford to say.

With unsteady hands, she smoothed her hair as she attempted to catch her breath. “Are you crazy? It’s broad daylight and we’re out here in the open and anyone could have seen us. I told you I don’t want to fix you.” Liar. “So just what was that supposed to prove?”

“I thought it might help speed the healing.”

“Of my lip?”

“No, my knee.” His chest rose, as if he were struggling with his breathing, too. He gave her a crooked smile. “All right, that was also to prove you haven’t forgotten me any more than I’ve forgotten you.”

“Maybe I haven’t. They say you never forget your—” first love “—first kiss. But I’ve had other kisses since then.”

He whistled. “That’s cold, Andi.”

“That’s the truth.”

“All of it?”

She stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, don’t play dumb with me.” His laugh sounded strained. “You kissed me back just now.”

“Like I had a choice?”

“We always have choices.” For a moment, his face hardened and his eyes looked bleak.

“I don’t think so. Not always.” He was remembering their past. Good. She wouldn’t have to lay things out for him. And hopefully, once she had finished here, she would never again have to face a sneak attack on her pitifully weak defenses. “When I left you that summer, it wasn’t my decision. But I am making the choice to walk away now.”