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  The Best Man In Laramie

  She’s no damsel in distress, but Shelley Meyerson may just need a white knight like deputy sheriff Colt McCabe. Thanks to her scheming ex-husband, Shelley’s about to lose her home. The last person she wants to turn to for help is Colt, the guy who broke her heart the night of the high school prom. But now that she’s back in Laramie, there’s no avoiding him—especially when they’re both serving in the same wedding party.

  True, the handsome, gallant lawman is a valuable ally. And he seems genuinely interested in Shelley and her little boy. She could definitely use a friend…and maybe something more. Rekindling their romance is easy—but learning to trust again is hard. Especially when Shelley learns that Colt’s been keeping a secret that could cost him his badge….

  Colt shifted her over onto his lap, much the way he had, years ago, when they were dating.

  He sifted his fingers through her hair. “I could still help you, you know.”

  Shelley moved so she could look into his eyes. She stared at him a long, careful moment. “I appreciate the thought,” she said finally, biting her lip again.

  “But…?” Colt tried his best to figure out what kind of assistance she needed.

  Shelley let out a shaky breath and wreathed her arms around his shoulders. “This is the only kind of help I need….”

  Shelley hadn’t expected the night to end with her kissing Colt. But it was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.

  She traced the contours of his face with her fingertips, reveling in the abrasion of his evening beard. “Don’t turn me down tonight,” she whispered, inhaling the sandalwood and leather scent of his cologne.

  His mouth was on her neck, tracing her racing pulse. “Not planning to.”

  Dear Reader,

  Home is where the heart is. It can be an investment in the future, serve as safe harbor or even be anywhere you hang your hat. Most of all, it’s the place we all long for. We want a roof over our head, a place to store our stuff, somewhere we belong, a cherished haven where we can hopefully find and nurture the kind of love that makes relationships and families strong.

  In my new series, McCabe Homecoming, four of Josie and Wade McCabe’s sons are still looking for that special someone and that special space. Deputy Colt McCabe knows he wants to be in Laramie, and he already has a house, yet love has eluded him. Philanthropist Justin McCabe thinks starting a ranch for troubled boys will fill the void in his life. Venture capitalist and single dad Derek McCabe wants a high-end home in Dallas that, while impressive, is still baby-friendly. Environmental engineer Rand McCabe is constantly on the road; hence he’s learned to think home is a hotel room.

  What every one of them is missing, is true intimacy in their lives. The kind that comes only when you let down your guard, and open up your heart….

  For more information on these and other titles, please visit cathygillenthacker.com.

  Best wishes,

  Cathy Gillen Thacker

  The Texas Lawman’s Woman

  Cathy Gillen Thacker

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Cathy Gillen Thacker is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heartwarming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular Harlequin Books author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website at www.cathygillenthacker.com for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things.

  Books by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

  1080—THE ULTIMATE TEXAS BACHELOR*

  1096—SANTA’S TEXAS LULLABY*

  1112—A TEXAS WEDDING VOW*

  1125—BLAME IT ON TEXAS*

  1141—A LARAMIE, TEXAS CHRISTMAS*

  1157—FROM TEXAS, WITH LOVE*

  1169—THE RANCHER NEXT DOOR**

  1181—THE RANCHER’S FAMILY THANKSGIVING**

  1189—THE RANCHER’S CHRISTMAS BABY**

  1201—THE GENTLEMAN RANCHER**

  1218—HANNAH’S BABY†

  1231—THE INHERITED TWINS†

  1237—A BABY IN THE BUNKHOUSE†

  1254—FOUND: ONE BABY†

  1262—MOMMY FOR HIRE

  1278—A BABY FOR MOMMY‡

  1286—A MOMMY FOR CHRISTMAS‡

  1298—WANTED: ONE MOMMY‡

  1319—THE MOMMY PROPOSAL‡

  1325—THE TRIPLETS’ FIRST THANKSGIVING

  1334—A COWBOY UNDER THE MISTLETOE‡‡

  1350—ONE WILD COWBOY‡‡

  1363—HER COWBOY DADDY‡‡

  1374—A COWBOY TO MARRY‡‡

  1394—THE RELUCTANT TEXAS RANCHER††

  1412—THE TEXAS RANCHER’S VOW††

  1428—THE TEXAS RANCHER’S MARRIAGE††

  1437—THE TEXAS RANCHER’S FAMILY††

  *The McCabes: Next Generation

  **Texas Legacies: The Carrigans

  †Made in Texas

  ‡The Lone Star Dads Club

  ‡‡Texas Legacies: The McCabes

  ††Legends of Laramie County

  For Daphne and Lilah and all the joy

  they’ve brought to our lives.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Shelley Meyerson’s heart leaped as she caught sight of the broad-shouldered lawman walking out of the dressing room. She blinked, so shocked she nearly fell off the pedestal. “He’s the best man?”

  Colt McCabe locked eyes with Shelley, looking about as pleased as she felt. His chiseled jaw clenched. “Don’t tell me she’s the maid of honor!”

  “Now, now, you two,” their mutual friend, wedding planner Patricia Wilson, scolded, checking out the fit of Shelley’s yellow, silk bridesmaid dress. “Surely you can get along for a few days. After all, you’re going to have to...since you’re both living in Laramie County again.”

  Don’t remind me, Shelley thought with a dramatic sigh.

  Looking as handsome as ever in a black tuxedo and pleated white shirt, Colt sized Shelley up. “She’s never going to forgive me.”

  For good reason, Shelley mused, remembering the hurt and humiliation she had suffered as if it were yesterday. She whirled toward Colt so quickly the seamstress stabbed her with a pin. But the pain in her ribs was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She lifted up her skirt, revealing her favorite pair of cranberry-red cowgirl boots, and stomped down off the pedestal, not stopping until they were toe-to-toe. “You stood me up on prom night, you big galoot!”

  Lips thinning, the big, strapping lawman rocked forward on the toes of his boots. “I got there.”

  Yes, he certainly had, Shelley thought, staring at the enticing contours of his broad muscular chest. And
even that had been the stuff of Laramie, Texas legend. The town had talked about it for weeks and weeks. “Two hours late. Unshowered. Unshaven.” Shelley threw up her hands in exasperation. “No flowers. No tuxedo...”

  Because if he had looked then the way he looked now... Well, who knew what would have happened? Certainly they would have followed through on their secret, incredibly romantic plans. Instead, she’d spent the evening alone, crying her eyes out into her pillow, the gorgeous dress and silky lingerie she’d spent weeks picking out crumpled beneath her.

  Colt stepped nearer, inundating her with the smell of soap and cologne and the intoxicatingly familiar essence that was him. “I told you where I’d been,” he reminded quietly.

  That night, and many days after.

  Shelley glared up at him, crushed all over again. “With Buddy.”

  Colt stood, legs braced apart, hands on his waist. To her fury, he was no more apologetic now than he had been then. “He needed me, Shelley.”

  I needed you.

  “Right,” Shelley retorted with a cool indifference that belied the emotion churning inside her. “So you said, Colt. Many times.”

  When was she going to get over this? Over him? Shelley had thought she was. Until the moment they came face-to-face again. Then, it was as if no time at all had passed. As if they were still as deeply in love as she’d once dreamed them to be.

  But maybe it would be best if she did just forget it all and move on. Otherwise, her heart would remain broken forever. At least when it came to her sexy former boyfriend...

  Colt shoved a hand through his short, dark brown hair, and turned back to the wedding planner. “This isn’t going to work.”

  Patricia stepped between them. “The heck it isn’t. Kendall and Gerry chose the two of you to be maid of honor and best man, so you’re both going to suck it up and get along until the nuptials are over. Got it? The bride and groom have been through enough.”

  That was certainly true. Like Colt, Gerry had grown up wanting to help others. Gerry had become a navy medic and saved many lives, until he’d been injured in an accident on an aircraft carrier and spent the past six months recuperating in a series of military hospitals. Now, finally, he was well enough to return to active duty. After all they’d been through together, it had been the happiest day of both their lives when he’d asked Kendall to marry him. But a long engagement was not in the cards for them because they only had thirty days to pack up, marry and honeymoon before they headed for his next assignment in San Diego.

  Hence, their wedding was being put together with lightning speed, with preparations starting before the two lovebirds even hit town.

  “This isn’t about you.” Patricia guided Shelley back up on the pedestal, so the seamstress could continue the fitting. “It’s about making the bride and groom happy. Now, I know you haven’t been back in town all that long, Shelley—”

  “Four days, six hours and twenty-two minutes,” Colt interrupted in a bored tone, “if anyone is counting.”

  Shelley looked at him, not surprised he had been clocking the time, much as she had. It had been hard as heck, trying to steer clear of him during the move-in process, but she had. Until now, anyway.

  He shrugged, obviously relishing the fact he could still get under her skin. “Laramie’s not that big.” He flexed his shoulders restlessly, then narrowed his midnight-blue eyes. “I figured we would run into each other eventually.”

  Another silence fell. This one even more telling.

  Once more, Patricia stepped between them. “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to get both of you fitted for your wedding finery, and then the two of you are going to go out somewhere.” She lifted a hand to cut off their heated protests. “I don’t care where. And you’re going to sit down together and broker some sort of truce so that none of your past angst taints the upcoming wedding in any way.”

  Shelley knew the wedding planner was right. She had returned to Laramie to inhabit the house where she had grown up. Colt was living just down the street in a house he had bought. In a county of ten thousand people, Shelley knew there was no way they’d be able to avoid each other indefinitely. Maybe it was time she and Colt acted like the grown-ups they were now instead of the love struck teenagers they had once been, and buried the hatchet for good.

  From the look of consternation that crossed Colt’s face, she could tell that the handsome bachelor seemed similarly chastened.

  Fifteen minutes later, their chores as attendants done, they walked out of the Lockhart Bridal Salon on Main Street. Just after six, the sun was sinking slowly toward the horizon in the bright blue Texas sky. The unseasonably cool June day had the temperature in the low eighties. There was very low humidity and a nice breeze. “So where do you want to go?” Colt asked Shelley.

  With the clock running and her cash dwindling, there was little choice about that. “My place,” she said.

  Colt reacted as if she had just invited him over to see her etchings. Shelley put an end to that notion with an unsentimental glance. Their days of even thinking about hooking up were over. “I’ve got to go home,” she said flatly. She had responsibilities to tend.

  Colt lifted a brow and warned, “You should know...I’ve got Buddy with me.”

  She stopped as they reached his blue Ford pickup truck. All four windows of the extended cab were down. A beautiful brown, white and black Bernese mountain dog was sitting in the front seat. These days, there was more white on the canine’s face than either brown or black. “I can see that.” Shelley stared at the dog that had inadvertently crushed her dreams and been Colt’s constant companion for the past twelve-plus years. The big fluffy-haired pet was still as friendly and alert as ever.

  And he still brought a flood of resentment to her heart.

  Buddy looked at Shelley as if he remembered her. And her attitude. Yet he still wanted to be her friend. She pushed her guilt away. That dog, and the nonstop chaos he had caused, was just as responsible for her breakup with Colt as Colt was. She had to remember that. The look on his face, the one that always set her heart to racing, said he surely did.

  “I can take him home first,” he offered.

  That, Shelley knew, would just delay the inevitable, because Colt and Buddy were practically inseparable— and she might as well come to terms with that. “No,” she replied with a resigned sigh. “Bring him.”

  “You’re sure?” Colt asked.

  Shelley shrugged. She could do this. She knew she could. “If we’re going to be living just a few houses away, you and I are going to have to make peace with the past. And I have to make friends with your dog, too.” She had to get to the point where Buddy was just another dog, instead of the love who had stolen Colt’s heart.

  “Then I’ll see you in five,” he promised.

  * * *

  COLT WATCHED AS SHELLEY got into the aging red Prius she had inherited from her parents and led the way over to Spring Street. The big yellow-and-white Victorian was the same as it had been when her parents were alive. A century old, it had a covered porch that wrapped around the entire house.

  A porch swing stood sentry to the right of the front door.

  It was—and had been—the perfect place to see everything that happened up and down the shady, tree-lined street. It had also been the perfect place for snuggling. Colt and Shelley had logged a lot of hours on that swing when they were dating. Just looking at it brought back a flood of memories.

  Of course, she’d logged a lot of hours on it after they had broken up, too, as she’d sat there, swinging and fuming. And even more after he’d had the gall to tell her in no uncertain terms what he thought of the man she was marrying. Not that he’d been any better at picking a mate. He had yet to find the right woman.

  Exhaling in frustration, Colt got out and went around to the passenger side. He ope
ned the door, grabbed the leash on the floor and snapped it onto Buddy’s collar.

  Buddy was still staring at Shelley as if trying to figure her out, too. Colt petted his dog on the head. “I know she’s pretty,” he said softly. “But she doesn’t like dogs.”

  The pooch looked at Colt seriously.

  “Yeah, well.” Colt shook his head. “I know. Hard to believe. But it’s true. So you be on your best behavior, fella,” he told his dog sternly. “We don’t want her adding to her already gigantic grudge against us.”

  Buddy’s days of enthusiastically jumping down from the cab were long over. Colt lifted his eighty-five-pound companion on the grass next to the curb, then waited while Buddy lifted a leg.

  Meanwhile, Shelley hurried toward the front door. “You can wait on the porch,” she said over her shoulder.

  A minute and a half later, a high school girl came out, pocketing cash. Shelley followed, a good-looking toddler in her arms.

  Colt couldn’t help but stare. He had always been attracted to Shelley, even when they were at war with each other. It would have been impossible not to be, given her cloud of soft shoulder-length auburn hair and her fathomless pine-green eyes. But seeing Shelley hold the child so tenderly put her in a whole new light. This was a maternal side of her that he hadn’t anticipated. And found just as appealing as her inherent femininity and lithe dancer’s body. She was, and always had been, the woman he most wanted to bed. That hadn’t changed, either.

  Oblivious to the direction of his thoughts, Shelley smiled for the first time since they’d set eyes on each other again. “Colt, meet my son, Austin. He’s two.”

  Colt noted her little boy had the same auburn hair, appealing face and dark green eyes as his mother. Able to see why Shelley was so proud—the little tyke was as cute as could be, and intelligent, too—Colt extended his hand to the little boy.

  Austin clasped the hand-carved red wooden truck in his hand that Colt knew was three generations old. He recalled seeing it when he had been dating Shelley years ago. The antique toy had been saved for her first child. At the time, because he and Shelley had been in the grip of a fierce teenage romance, everyone thought that Colt might be the daddy to that baby.