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Rachel's Rescuer
Roxann Delaney
A SHERIFF, A SNOWSTORM AND SUSPICIOUS EX-IN-LAWS WERE HOT ON RACHEL'S HEELS….So the single mom desperately needed sanctuary for her six-year-old son–and all her secrets. Luck led her to a remote ranch– but a blizzard stranded her with brooding, black-clad cowboy Lucas Callahan. Rugged and masculine Lucas seemed downright resentful of soft, vulnerable Rachel and hero-worshiping little Cody. Still, something tugged at Lucas, for he offered them protection–and even a marriage of convenience–to keep their pursuers at bay.Out of options and already falling in love, did Rachel dare dream that the grudging, generous rancher who'd given her refuge– and his name–might one day offer her his hard, hungry heart?
Trouble,
Lucas had thought when the mother and child arrived at his ranch.
Now he groaned at the innocence of the word. Trouble didn’t even begin to describe what he was in for.
He could still hear her soft voice echoing through his mind, floating down from the spare room upstairs where she and the little boy were settling in for the night. And his body still hummed from her sweet scent.
It had been a while—a long while—since he’d reacted so swiftly to any woman. But Lucas had ignored that warning—so he hadn’t even noticed the approaching storm about to snow them in together.
Hell, she wasn’t even pretty. Not in the usual ways—the things men looked for in a woman. Her floppy sweatshirt wasn’t hiding anything remotely voluptuous.
Lucas grunted his displeasure. She and the boy didn’t belong here.
A woman was nothin’ but…trouble.
Dear Reader,
You asked for more ROYALLY WED titles and you’ve got them! For the next four months we’ve brought back the Stanbury family—first introduced in a short story by Carla Cassidy on our eHarlequin.com Web site. Be sure to check the archives to find Nicholas’s story! But don’t forget to pick up Stella Bagwell’s The Expectant Princess and discover the involving story of the disappearance of King Michael.
Other treats this month include Marie Ferrarella’s one hundredth title for Silhouette Books! This wonderful, charming and emotional writer shows her trademark warmth and humor in Rough Around the Edges. Luckily for all her devoted readers, Marie has at least another hundred plots bubbling in her imagination, and we’ll be seeing more from her in many of our Silhouette lines.
Then we’ve got Karen Rose Smith’s Tall, Dark & True about a strong, silent sheriff who can’t bear to keep quiet about his feelings any longer. And Donna Clayton’s heroine asks Who Will Father My Baby?—and gets a surprising answer. No Place Like Home by Robin Nicholas is a delightful read that reminds us of an all-time favorite movie—I’ll let you guess which one! And don’t forget first-time author Roxann Delaney’s debut title, Rachel’s Rescuer.
Next month be sure to return for The Blacksheep Prince’s Bride by Martha Shields, the next of the ROYALLY WED series. Also returning are popular authors Judy Christenberry and Elizabeth August.
Happy reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
Rachel’s Rescuer
Roxann Delaney
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
With bunches of love to the Ditzy Chix, who kept at me
until it happened. Thank you. And to my four lovely
daughters, who make my life the best.
ROXANN DELANEY
lives on a farm in south-central Kansas and is the mother of four daughters. The 1999 Maggie Award winner spent many hours spinning tales while driving a wheat truck to the grain elevator during harvest. Though she and her family are no longer actively farming, their current menagerie of dogs, cats and one lop-eared rabbit named Rudy manages to keep them busy. A theater buff, Roxann once established a community theater in her hometown, and both acted in and directed the productions, as well as serving on the board of directors. But writing is her first love, and she’s thrilled to have followed her yellow brick road to the land of Silhouette Romance.
Dear Reader,
Like many of you, I’m a mom. And like most moms, I know my four daughters well. When I told them I’d sold my first book, their reactions were varied, as I’d expected. But whether it was a simple “That’s nice, Mom,” from the oldest or “I’m going to be a writer, just like you!” from the youngest, they all enjoyed sharing in the champagne-toast celebration. Somehow, I knew they would. That’s the way moms are. They think that’s magic. We know better.
Magic. That’s the word that comes to mind when I think of what writers refer to as “The Call.” Those magical words “We’d like to buy your book” can be likened only to hearing the doctor say, “Congratulations! You’re pregnant!” With one sentence, the world becomes a strange but beautiful place. Then, like pregnancy, we wait to actually see our “baby” born, when we hold the book in our hands. The joy is indescribable, even for a writer.
So curl up in your favorite reading spot and hold my “baby.” May it bring you laughter, may it bring a tear, but most of all, may it bring you joy.
Contents
Chapter One (#uf3f56031-95f4-5055-aab0-af801cbe296d)
Chapter Two (#u70ee12e1-3f65-5f32-bbcc-215a0c319d5f)
Chapter Three (#u30f19c31-f5ae-50f1-8825-da9754ff299e)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Squinting into the crimson glare quickly disappearing behind the building clouds of an approaching winter storm, Lucas Callahan watched twin columns of dust race along the usually deserted ranch road.
“What the hell—”
Releasing the small calf he’d just tagged, he stood in silence and watched the first of two cars come to a dirt-spewing halt, missing the fence in front of the sprawling two-story house by inches. A woman climbed from the older model, red sports car, panic written all over her. She stood frozen to the spot when the tan cruiser of the county sheriff stopped, nearly crashing into her car.
Sheriff Ben Tatum climbed out of his vehicle and slammed his hat on his head. He strode forward, badge bouncing on his barrel chest. Coming to a stop directly in front of the woman, he planted his fists on his hips, legs spread wide. “Lady, what the hell do you think you’re doin’?”
Lucas stepped back into the deepening shadow of the barn and waited. From his vantage point, he could clearly see the scene unfolding in the yard, even though the sun continued its slow descent, and the sky had begun to darken. He wanted to hear what the woman had to say, but he didn’t want to be seen. Ben would handle the stranger better than he could. The two men had known each other all their lives, being born a few days apart, thirty-two years earlier.
“I…you…” She tugged at the hem of a too large sweatshirt, her nervous glance sweeping past Ben and lingering on her car. Squaring her shoulders, she faced him and lifted her chin. “I guess I’m lost.”
Ben knuckled back the brim of his hat. “Don’t you know you should pull over when an officer attempts to stop you?”
Her chin went up another notch, and she stiffened. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothin’.” Ben walked around to the back of her car and leaned down.
The woman took a faltering step to follow, but brought herself up short when he straightened, a license plate in his hand. Her mouth opened once, then snapped shut.
He rounded the fender and held out the tag. “This was just flappin’ in the breeze, about to fall off. Drivin’ around without plates will get you in trouble, even here in Montana.”
“You came after me with your lights flashing because my license tag was loose?”
Ben’s stern countenance deepened to a frown. “So you did see me behind you. Next time an officer attempts to stop you, you stop.”
Her head lowered. “Yes, sir.”
Impatient to get back to his chores before dark settled in and the storm put a halt to the work, Lucas stepped out of the shadows. “I’ve got some plate screws.”
The woman jumped, and her hand flew to her throat. “How long have you been there?” she demanded.
Lucas took three strides in her direction and stopped at the corral fence. “Long enough.”
Brilliant blue eyes narrowed. “And what does that mean?”
Lucas sucked in a breath at the sight of those eyes. “I saw you flyin’ up the road.”
She tugged on her shirt again, her nervous gaze going to the car for the second time. “I was lost.”
“You’ve got a bigger problem than that, little lady.” Ben pointed to the front tire of her car, where a soft hiss could be heard.
“Flat,” Lucas grumbled. He wanted her gone, blue eyes and all. Something was wrong, and he didn’t want to know what it was. He wanted her off the Blue Sage. “We’ll get it changed, and you can be on your way.”
“I—I don’t have a spare.”
Before Lucas could reply with a string of words unfit for a woman’s ears, Ben interrupted. “Where was it you said you were headed?”
Looking up, she tensed again. “I didn’t say.”
It couldn’t have been clearer that something was going on. Lucas glimpsed fear beneath the stubborn stance. He wondered if Ben noticed it. The sheriff might look a little slow to some, but the man didn’t let much get by him.
Lucas didn’t take his eyes off her. He quickly reminded himself that strangers couldn’t be trusted in the middle of nowhere. Even isolated areas like the Blue Sage Ranch were known to have their share of con artists and other misbegotten vermin. Never a trusting soul, especially when it came to women, he wouldn’t put it past her to be part of some sort of scam.
And he didn’t welcome the interruption. The weather was expected to get bad—real bad. The woman needed to be on her way. The sooner the better.
Lucas let his gaze take a slow journey over the stranger, checking out the chestnut brown of her hair and the slender neck holding up an obstinate chin. Skipping over the loose-fitting shirt, his gaze lingered on her slim hips and long legs encased in threadbare blue jeans. A pair of dirty, time-worn tennis shoes finished the trip.
“If you’re lost, I’ll give you directions,” Ben was saying, jerking Lucas’s attention away from the leisurely tour of her body.
“Just tell me where and how far I am from Deer-fork,” the woman replied. “I’ll find my way from there.”
“You’re headed to Deerfork?”
She hesitated. “Sort of.”
“Near Deerfork?”
Nodding, she said nothing.
“I’ll give Willie a call and have him bring the tow truck out,” Ben said, then turned for his patrol car.
“If you tell me where you’re headed, I can give you better directions,” Lucas offered, his patience wearing thin. His suspicion mounted as he watched her twist her fingers in the hem of her shirt. She was scared. And not just of the law.
“I’m headed to see my—my friend,” she finally answered. “She and her husband live near Deerfork. I must have taken a wrong turn.”
The glare she directed at him nearly brought a smile to his lips. She was too easily riled. And too pretty when she was. He shook off the thought. “A name would give me somethin’ to go on.”
Lowering her head, she hid her expression behind a curtain of hair. “Richmond. Jenny Richmond.”
He swore under his breath. “Jen and Pete left a couple of weeks ago for a vacation.”
“Oh, no!” She swayed, wrapping her arms around her middle.
He gripped the fence in front of him to keep from rushing to her. No way was he getting involved. “You okay?”
Her chin lifted again. “I’ll be on my way, as soon as the tow truck gets here.”
While they glared at each other, Ben returned. “There’s been an accident over on I-15 I’ve gotta get to. Willie’s on his way there now.” He turned to the woman. “You’ll have to stay here, until he’s done and can get here.”
“Hold on!” Vaulting the fence and crossing the short distance to where the pair stood, Lucas addressed them both. “She can ride back with you, and Willie can get her car tomorrow. We’ll find her a place to stay in Deerfork.”
The wind kicked up, swirling dirt into the sharply cooling air around them. Gesturing with a nod of his head, Ben led Lucas to the cruiser. “She’ll have to stay here, Lucas, unless you can take her into Deer-fork.”
“Can’t. I’ve got a new bull calf I have to keep an eye on. You’ll have to take her.”
“Nope, can’t do it. I’ve gotta get to that accident.” Ben climbed into his car and rolled down the window, shaking his head. “Bunch o’ wild kids drivin’ too fast. When a storm’s a’comin’, all hell breaks loose. Nothin’ but trouble.”
“I’d say she’s trouble.” Lucas silently counted to five as Ben started the engine. “She’s not stayin’ here, and that’s—”
“Mom?”
He spun around at the sound of the voice, while Ben pulled out of the drive. Too preoccupied with this new development to try to stop the sheriff, Lucas squinted into the blowing dust to see the driver’s door of the woman’s car swing open. Unable to make out who it was, he rounded the back of the car and stopped in his tracks.
“It’s all right,” the woman said, pulling a small boy of about five or six close to her. With her arms wrapped possessively around the youngster, she glared at Lucas.
Eyes full of distrust, the boy looked up at him. “Who’s he?”
If his life depended on it, Lucas couldn’t have uttered a single word. After a moment of dead silence, he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak. “I’m Lucas Callahan. And your name is?”
“Cody.”
Promising himself the satisfaction of blasting Ben the next time he saw him, Lucas looked at the sky, then nodded. “Guess we’d better get to the house.”
“Isn’t there something else we can do? We can’t stay here.” The woman kept the boy close and shivered, but whether from fear or cold, Lucas couldn’t be sure.
