His Holiday Bride

“Spotted two of his girls riding down the hill. They ought to catch up with you in a few.” Jeremy tipped his Stetson and raised his window, so that air conditioning and satellite radio kept him comfy and entertained as he rolled along. She suspected he waved to the sheriff, but she didn’t look to be sure.

I give him three months tops before he heads back to Chicago, she thought, glancing over her shoulder. Yep, there he was back in the oncoming lane, trying to keep the cattle from drifting over into it, determined to protect the ranching population of White Horse County from a few cows on a rangeland road. Poor guy. Probably really thought he was helping.

She spotted the Parnell girls on the next rise. Both high school girls trotted along the road, horses’ manes flying. When they were closer, one of them—Ashleigh—held up a small pail and rattled it. “Grain!”

Cow heads swung higher. The promise of cookies was forgotten as excited moos rang out and the three dozen animals took off at an eager lope.

“Thanks, Autumn!” Hazel called out.

“No problem.” She drew Aggie to a stop and rested her hands on the pommel. The saddle’s leather was cool from the near-freezing temperature.

“Is that the new sheriff?” Ashleigh asked.

“So I’m told.” Behind her she heard a door whisk open and an engine idling.

“I didn’t know he was in town already. Cool.” The girls wheeled their mounts and took off, trailed by their pets, who raced after them. “Why are you here?” Autumn urged Aggie around to face the newcomer. “It’s not December.”

“Came early to get settled in. I’m not officially on the clock yet. The mayor told me I could have the car for personal use. Part of my salary.”

“That and you’re the only officer around, so you get to answer all the emergency calls. Even in the middle of the night. Did he tell you that?”

“I heard a fleeting mention. The mayor made it sound like it was no big deal. Do emergency calls come in a lot around here?”

“I have no idea.” She dismounted with a creak of the saddle and the thud of her boots on the road. Couldn’t be more than five foot three, he decided. She stood a full foot shorter than he did.

“Is there anything else I should know? Wait. Maybe I don’t want to hear it. Maybe next you’ll be telling me Miller’s rental house is really a henhouse.” Couldn’t say why he felt the need to tease another smile from her, but he did.

“No, but it is a barn.”

“What?” He’d only been joking. His pulse screeched to a stop. A barn? He’d trusted the real estate agent, who was the mayor’s wife. “That’s what I get for renting sight unseen.”

“You figured you could trust us honest country folk, right?” Her hazel eyes, an amazing combination of browns, greens and golds twinkled like veiled trouble.

He didn’t think she was laughing at him, but she was having fun with him. He had the feeling he wasn’t the first city boy who’d come to these parts and had decided to banter with the pretty cowgirl. Very pretty, he corrected. So pretty that he’d like to get to know her more.

“Living in a barn won’t be so bad.” She turned to her saddle pack and dug through the leather bag. “Think of it this way. Because of all the animals, you will always have company. You’ll get the full country experience. Plus, you won’t have to pack water far at all, since there’s an outside pump nearby.”

“Pump?” That didn’t sound like the place had indoor plumbing. “Are you serious? No, you’re kidding me.”

“You read all those Westerns. You ought to know about ranch life.” She handed him a roll of duct tape. “It’s probably illegal to drive without a functioning side-view mirror. Good luck, Sheriff.”

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

“Nope. I’m busy tonight.” That was an urban dude for you, always eager to play the dating game.

“Any night, then. How about Friday?”

“Can’t. Busy then, too.” She swung into the saddle, settled into the stirrups and considered the man leaning against the side of his four-wheel-drive. He was trying to look suave while clutching a roll of tape and standing next to a dangling mirror. The cows had not been kind to the vehicle. “Here’s a hint. Country girls aren’t dumb or easy. Have a good evening.”

“I never thought—”

She pressed her heels to Aggie’s side and the mare took of, eager for the day to be over, too. Autumn tipped her hat as they raced by. This wasn’t her first experience with a city sheriff come to town.

I don’t know about that guy, she told herself, leaning forward in her saddle as Aggie’s gait changed to a canter. Sheriff Ford Sherman might not be Denny Jones, but he may as well be.

The drum of Aggie’s steel shoes became pleasant music to match the wind whistling in her ears as they raced home.

Chapter Two

A barn? Not only was Ford surprised to learn the tractor guy was his landlord, but his new dwelling was a barn. Imagine that. The pretty cowgirl hadn’t been pulling his leg after all.

“Ought to have everything you need,” Jeremy Miller was saying as he paced across the bars of sunshine from the front window and dropped the keys on the windowsill. “Except furniture. You got a truck coming? If not, I could put in a call to the furniture store over in Sunshine. It’s the closest big town around until you hit Jackson.”

“I’ve got a moving truck coming with my stuff.”

“Good luck with that.” Jeremy tipped his Stetson and lumbered toward the open door where a fly buzzed in. “Took the liberty of getting the phone company out here to set you up. Should be here day after tomorrow. My cousin works for the company and squeezed you in.”

“That was thoughtful of you, Jeremy. Thanks.”

“No problem. Least I can do for the new sheriff. Just do me a favor, will ya?” Miller halted on the porch. “Give me some notice before you bolt.”

“Bolt?” Like leave?

“When you’ve had enough of small town life. It’ll happen, don’t you worry. You’re not the first sheriff I’ve rented to.”

That didn’t bode well. What was wrong with the job he didn’t know about? Learning from Autumn Granger that maybe the emergency calls came in more often than he’d been led to believe had thrown him. Maybe he’d made a mistake burning the bridges of his old life to come here.

I hope this isn’t one of those impulsive decisions I live to regret, Lord.

“Give me a call if you need anything.” Jeremy bobbed his head in a single nod—a gesture of goodbye, country style.

Ford did the same, his movements echoing in the wide open space of the living area. Outside the slam of a truck’s door ricocheted like a bullet through the quiet and a pickup’s motor turned over and rumbled away.

Alone in his new place, he paced across the high-gloss oak floor and stared out the bay window. The horse barn had been totally remodeled with sedate gray siding, white trim, ivory walls and indoor plumbing. He batted at the lone fly, smiling as he thought of Autumn Granger. He did not know what to think about the woman, but he liked her. Hard not to like a gal who carried a holstered .45 at her hip and a lasso on her saddle.

Granddad would have loved seeing all this. Ford frowned, shaking his head. Too bad he hadn’t made this change earlier, when his grandfather had been alive and he’d been more optimistic about his life.

Regrets. He shrugged them off. A pack of cows was grazing out beyond the small patch of lawn behind red posts and three skinny strands of barbed wire. He saw one of them eyeing his Jeep and hoped to high heaven those animals didn’t get out and gnaw something else off the poor vehicle. One of the first things on his list would be to drop by the feed store for treats. Without them, he feared the Jeep wouldn’t last long.

His stomach rumbled. That got him thinking about dinner. Maybe he would mosey down the street and see what he could rustle up.

“WHAT ARE YOU still doing here?”

“Good question.” Autumn leaped over the last two stairs, landed in the kitchen and grabbed her purse off the table by the back door. She tossed a grin at Rori, her friend, the family’s temporary housekeeper and her older brother’s fiancée. “I’m about an hour late. My friends are going to disown me.”

“You? Never.” Rori hefted a big pan of pasta over the sink and upended it. Water and noodles tumbled into a steel colander. “Have fun.”

“I intend to.” For a change. First it had been calving and foaling season, then it had been harvest and hay. “The last time I had a free night in town it was February.”