Cowboy Christmas Rescue: Rescuing the Witness / Rescuing the Bride

Chapter 1 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 2 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Rescuing the Witness (#ulink_44277f31-001c-55a1-90ba-fbc3e7ebfe1a)

Beth Cornelison

To Colleen Thompson—thanks for sharing

Chapter 1 (#ulink_664775ec-1118-5b0e-9609-42e0685e7ebe)

She’d known seeing Brady today was inevitable. He was, after all, one of the groomsmen. She’d also known seeing him would be difficult. One didn’t fall out of love with a man like Brady McCall easily. She’d just never imagined it would be this hard.

Kara Pearson pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to calm the swirl of acid gnawing at her and hoping to avoid his detection as she wended her way through the crowd at the wedding. Despite reasons to be “jolly,” like Christmas being a week away, and her good friends’ nuptials, Kara was finding it hard to feel festive this year. Not only had Christmases been difficult for her since her parents had died, but this year she was mourning her broken relationship with the man she’d hoped to marry.

“There are a couple seats on the back row,” she said to Hannah Winslow, her “plus one” and moral support for the wedding.

Hannah gave her a withering glance. “The back row? Really? How long are you going to hide from Brady?”

“Until I die or until it doesn’t feel like I’m being gored by a bull when I talk to him. Whichever comes first.” She tipped her head toward the back corner seats and tugged on Hannah’s sleeve. “Come on. Before someone else takes them.”

The Wheeler Ranch bustled with more activity than Santa’s workshop on Christmas Eve, especially in light of the last-minute change of venue for the wedding festivities. The water pipes in the restroom for the ranch lodge, where the ceremony and reception had been set to take place, had sprung a massive leak that morning and flooded the building.

At first light today, Kara had responded to a frantic text from her friend April, the bride, to help relocate chairs, flowers and sound equipment as water gushed under the bathroom door and soaked the carpet of the lodge.

A few crazy hours later, the reception had been moved to Sal’s Diner, the only place available at the last minute in tiny Rusted Spur, Texas, that could accommodate the caterer. The ceremony itself had simply been shifted outside to the ranch yard. Thankfully, the Texas Panhandle was enjoying one of the unseasonably warm December days that Southern states boasted on occasion.

But the balmy warmth came with a price. The pleasant temperature was the result of an encroaching cold front, compacting all the warm air in its path as it bulldozed into Texas. A line of violent thunderstorms was creeping in from the west, and the ceremony was on the clock. The groom’s mother, in a dither to finish before the storms hit, waved her hands, hurrying people to take their seats.

Around the ranch yard, guests assembled, many of whom she recognized as clients of the large-animal veterinary clinic where she worked as a vet’s assistant. Near the front, musicians tuned up, and behind her at the barn, ranch hands decked out a pair of first-class cutting horses with black-and-white ribbons and satin drapes in preparation for the bridal couple’s departure from the ceremony.

“You okay?” Hannah asked.

“I’ve been better. The drama this morning didn’t help my nervous stomach.”

Hannah gave Kara’s hand a quick squeeze. “You can do this. But...if you must toss your cookies, please remember these are new Kate Spade heels. Clearance sale or not, they still cost me my grocery money for the month.”

Kara met her friend’s crooked smile with her own. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hannah shoulder-bumped her. “Hey, you got this. And you look quite eye-catching, by the way.”

Kara draped her coat and purse on the back of her chair, then tugged discreetly on the skirt of her red patterned maxi dress. It might be in the seventies now, but by the time the reception was over, the temperature was supposed to be closer to thirty-five. “Thanks. But eye-catching wasn’t what I was going for. I was hoping for simple, trying to blend in. If April and Nate weren’t such good friends, I’d probably be home now.”

Closing her eyes, she mentally steeled herself and willed her queasy stomach to settle. She could have skipped the wedding, sure. But April Redding had been her friend since high school. More recently, Kara had grown close to the groom, Nate Wheeler, primarily because of the rodeo accident that had ended his bull-riding career. He claimed she’d saved his life—and maybe there was some truth to that—but she’d only been doing what rodeo clowns were supposed to do. She’d been well-trained for her weekend job as a bullfighter. She’d distracted the seventeen-hundred-pound beast that had crushed Nate while the medics swooped in to help the injured rider.

Kara heaved an agitated sigh. She’d rather go up against that injured and angry bull again than face Brady today. And didn’t that beat all? Being more intimidated by the man you’d once planned to marry than a raging Brahman?

“Everything looks so pretty,” Hannah said, her tone as bright as the white ribbons, twinkling Christmas lights and red poinsettias that graced the trellis backdrop to the makeshift altar. “You’d never know the whole setup was moved here three hours ago.”

“Mmm-hmm.” God bless her, Hannah was trying to keep her calm and upbeat.

“I hope they start soon, though. I’m not sure how much longer that storm will hold off.” Hannah cast a wary eye toward the black clouds bearing down on the ranch. “It’d be a shame to see the decorations ruined.”

Kara wished they’d begin soon as well, but not because of the decorations. She simply wanted the service over before—

“Kara?” Brady’s deep, powerful voice sent a bittersweet pang to her core.

—before Brady spotted her.

Rats! Of course he’d seen her. He had a sixth sense when it came to her. A homing beacon or internal Kara-GPS. It had been kinda nice when they were dating. But now, almost ten months after their breakup, his uncanny knack for tracking her down, whether around town or at a crowded ranch wedding, was becoming annoying. Okay, maybe not so uncanny. He was the new sheriff of Trencher County, Texas, so he probably had all sorts of gizmos and training he could use to track her.

How was a girl supposed to heal her broken heart and move on when the object of her affection seemed to be everywhere she turned?

Taking a deep breath to quell the emotion that knotted in her throat, she faced the cowboy-turned-sheriff and tried not to let the sight of him in his tuxedo jacket, black Stetson and Tony Lama boots remind her of the wedding they’d never have.

“Hi, Brady.” Damn the catch in her voice! She wanted him to believe she was fine in her new life without him, that she was moving on and had no regrets over what she’d thrown away when she left him. Kara squared her shoulders and pasted on a stiff grin. “Don’t you look handsome!”

He tugged at the neck of his tuxedo shirt and gave her a lopsided smile that shot liquid heat to her core. “Glad you think so. This collar’s choking me. I feel like a damn penguin.” Lifting a shoulder in a dismissive shrug, he added, “Oh, well. Small price to pay to support Nate on his big day.”

She nodded. “True. We can stand any discomfort for a short while when it means being there for our friends.” Like engaging in awkwardly polite conversation with your ex when he corners you.

She introduced Hannah, her new neighbor, and he acknowledged her with a smile and a friendly greeting before shifting his gaze back to Kara and squatting beside her chair. “You look good. How have you been?”