The Texas Lawman's Woman

“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.