The Lawman's Christmas Proposal. Barbara Daille White

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The Lawman's Christmas Proposal - Barbara Daille White


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of November in New Mexico, Mitch parked near the barn on Garland Ranch. He found Jed Garland standing in the sunshine near the corral. As he loped across the yard toward his former boss, Jed smiled.

      Since he’d last seen him, the other man’s face had developed a few more wrinkles, and his hair had turned completely white. But he still had the same piercing blue eyes and the firmest handshake around.

      “Good to see you again, boy.” Jed’s fingers kept his trapped for another long beat before he let go.

      Mitch nodded. “You’re looking good yourself. So is the Hitching Post. I see you’ve made some changes around here.”

      “Yep. Got the signpost redone and the whole place painted.”

      “Yeah, my mom said you’re in the wedding business again.”

      “That we are.” Jed’s guileless expression put Mitch on alert. “We’ll be all set whenever you’re ready for our services.”

      “For a wedding?” Laughing, he shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m not the type to settle down.”

      “That’s not what you once said about staying in Cowboy Creek, though, is it? You’d always planned to follow in your dad and granddad’s footsteps and join the sheriff’s department—yet you went and became a big-city policeman.”

      “Yeah. I’m a big-time LA cop.” Mitch said the words with a hint of bitterness backed by the knowledge of how drastically his plans had changed.

      Jed nodded as if he’d read his mind, something he’d always been good at. Mitch found the trait much more disconcerting right this minute than he ever had years ago.

      Probably because now he had things to hide.

      “With your family’s connection to the sheriff’s department, I reckon it was a given you’d get involved in law enforcement even after you left town.”

      He nodded. “Upholding the family tradition.” As he’d always known he would.

      “Yep. Much as you liked horses and ranching, you never had a doubt about what you wanted to do.”

      “No.” He still hadn’t, but his decision now had repercussions he couldn’t bring himself to confess to his parents or Jed. His long-held certainty, his downright arrogance that he could handle anything, had let him down when he’d needed it most. Clamping his jaws together, he hooked his biker boot on the lowest fence rung and stared across the corral.

      “Let me say, son, I’m sorry about your troubles.” Jed’s clap on his shoulder hadn’t lost any of its strength, either. “I can understand if you’re finding your recuperation painful in more ways than one.”

      His vocal cords seized up, overpowered by the lump in his throat. Looked as though his former boss was still here for him.

      Jed Garland was one mighty smart man, but he couldn’t know about all his doubts. No one could.

      Jed rested his forearms on the fence and linked his fingers together. “I’m sure you realize a man doesn’t reach success without some failure along the way.”

      “Yeah,” he said harshly, “but my failure resulted in someone dying.”

      “And in your line of work, you think that makes you stand out from the crowd?”

      He shot a glance toward the other man. “You’ve been talking to my dad.”

      “’Course I have.” Jed sighed. “I’m not saying what happened wasn’t a tragedy. I’m not saying it’s something you can ever shake off. But you’re too good a cop—too good a man—not to get past this.”

      Looking away again, Mitch gripped the rail and squinted into the lowering sun. The bright light made his eyes water.

      “Meanwhile,” Jed said, “it’s good you’ve come home.”

      “Temporarily.” He hoped he sounded convincing. He lived and breathed law enforcement, had done ever since he was a kid watching his dad and grandpa pinning their badges to their uniforms. There was nothing else he wanted to do with his life. Nothing else he could do.

      “You’ll have to hang around till Pete and Cole get in from the northern pastures. And Paz will have my hide if I don’t get you to stop in to see her. While you’re here, you can say hello to the girls.”

      “The girls?” He gripped the rail even harder.

      “Yeah. Tina started off handling the contractors for the upgrades to the Hitching Post, but Jane’s been helping out since she moved in a few months ago. And now we’ve got a wedding booked, Andi’s here to pitch in, too.”

      Jed’s three granddaughters.

      Tina had grown up on the ranch and become the bookkeeper for the hotel. Jane was a well-respected photojournalist, originally based in New York. And Andi...

      Andi was the reason he’d left Cowboy Creek.

      * * *

      “IF I HAVE to look at one more fabric swatch today, I may scream.”

      At her cousin’s pronouncement, Andi Price forced a laugh.

      The hotel and its dude ranch activities had always been a big draw for the guests, but their grandfather had recently decided to reopen the banquet hall with a focus on catering wedding receptions.

      So far, the one wedding they had scheduled a few months earlier had been canceled, and the business was getting off to a slow start.

      “What have you got to scream about?” she said to Jane, only half teasing. “I’m the one dealing with the bride-to-be.”

      “Otherwise known as Bridezilla. Sorry, cuz.”

      “Don’t be.” She sighed. “It’s the truth. I should have known better than to agree to cater a wedding for the friend of a woman I barely know.”

      “Yeah. Especially one who wants everything wrapped up in a bow—within a month.”

      “I thought I was helping Grandpa and you and Tina.”

      “You are. In Grandpa’s words, he’s tickled we’ve got another wedding booked.”

      “I know.” And she couldn’t let him down.

      The wedding receptions had always been their late grandmother’s passion. They all knew Jed was determined to see that part of the business flourish again. As Jane had once said, it only made sense to capitalize on a hotel called the Hitching Post.

      “Good thing Tina’s around to help,” Andi said. “But what would we both do without you?” Jane’s career as a photojournalist gave her a good eye for envisioning just about anything. “You know you’re the one with the talent for color and line.”

      “You’re not doing badly with those yourself. And the designs you’ve come up with for the banquet hall are pure genius.”

      “Thanks. I’ve attended a lot of receptions and formal dinners since I got married.” Thoughts of all the events she had attended once she’d become part of the affluent Price family now blended with other memories she tried not to dwell on. “Knowledge of fancy napkin folds comes with the territory,” she attempted to say lightly.

      “You’re doing a lot more than arranging napkins.” Jane tossed a sample book onto the pile with all the others. “But, though I hate to say this, there’s an area where you’re not doing such a great job.”

      “Really?” She frowned and looked at everything they had spread out on the tabletop. “What’s that?”

      “I wish I knew.” Jane shook her head. “You’ve changed since you were here at the end of the summer. There’s something bothering you. Don’t ask me what, because I have no idea, but I think you ought to let me in on it. We didn’t spend all those vacations and holidays together


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