To Catch a Texas Cowboy (Wishing, Texas Book 2) Read online

  “No,” AJ snapped, before Ty could finish what he’d intended to say. “I’m not taking Lu. She’s a sweet gal, but I don’t have time for a goldfish, much less a horse. Plus, if I was going to get one, I’d want an animal with energy. One I can ride.”

  “You can still ride Lulabelle. Just not very far.”

  “Or very fast since a trot is her top speed. But no way am I riding her. You know the ribbing I’d take if anyone ever saw me? I’d never live it down.”

  “So don’t ride her, but take her to your place.” Ty nodded toward the mare pressed up against AJ. “She’s losing weight because she won’t eat. Eventually her health will suffer.”

  Damn. How could he let Lu waste away? “Fine. Put her in a trailer, and take her over to my place.”

  Chapter Two

  After driving for days and sleeping in the cheapest motels between New York and Texas, Grace passed the sign ushering her into the Wishing, Texas, city limits. Population ten thousand eight hundred and three.

  “You wanted to get away. Mission accomplished,” Grace mumbled, gazing at the rolling hills of tall grass, clusters of trees, and endless pastures dotted with grazing cows. The only indication of civilization was an occasional farmhouse or barn. Nothing here, except for Cassie would remind her of her life in New York City.

  But had she taken this plan to get away from her family and New York too far? She wanted a clean start somewhere different, but she’d wanted to remain a part of civilization.

  The pickup in front of her slowed approaching a stop sign. Until she’d crossed the Texas state line, she hadn’t realized how many different trucks there were. It’s a wonder they allowed her across the border in her little Corolla. Grace stepped on the brakes. The now familiar screech she’d endured since West Virginia echoed around her. While irritating, the brakes worked fine. Or had. Now, as she pressed down on them her car barely slowed.

  She stomped on the pedal, but at this rate she’d rear-end the truck. She scanned the area. Swerving right would send her into a ditch, and probably the barbed wire fence beyond. Not good. Turning left would send her into any oncoming traffic. Worse.

  The pickup started pulling away, but if he didn’t step on the gas, she’d be in his back pocket soon. She laid on the horn, but instead of speeding up, the blasted driver stopped. Seconds later her car rammed into the truck’s back end. The scrape and crunch of metal surrounded Grace as her airbag exploded, jamming her sunglasses against her face and shoving her head back with its force.

  She pushed her hair off her face as her sunglasses fell into her lap in two pieces. Ah man. Those had been her favorites. A pair of Oakleys she’d found at a bargain price at an outlet mall.

  As she sat mourning their loss, her car door opened, and a tall thirtyish man peered down at her with eyes blue enough to rival Paul Newman’s. He stood there dressed in a western style plaid shirt and jeans, a cowboy hat perched on his head. Pretty much the standard dress of every man she’d seen since crossing the Mason-Dixon line. But there was something different about this guy. The way he carried himself. Strength, and not simply physical, radiated from this cowboy. Though from the way his shirt sleeves strained over his biceps, and his jeans molded over impressive thighs, he obviously possessed plenty of physical strength, too.

  If she had to get in a fender bender, at least the guy was good-looking.

  “I’m so sorry I hit you,” Grace blurted out. “My brakes failed. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but you’re bleeding from a cut above your left eye.” His crystal blue gaze filled with concern, he started unbuttoning his shirt.

  He was taking off his shirt? Thinking she had to be hallucinating, she blinked to clear her vision, but nothing changed. The mouth-watering western dream stood beside her car taking off his clothes. This couldn’t be real. Either she was having a vivid day dream or she’d been knocked unconscious. Rats. She’d probably come to, and discover a short, balding man with a beer belly standing by her car. She snapped her mouth shut as her vision continued. The cowboy peeled off his shirt, revealing a white T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders, delectable abs and rock hard biceps. If they made the men like this in Texas, thank you, Lord.

  His shirt wadded up in his tanned fist, he leaned forward. Having finally gathered her wits, and unsure of his intent, she moved out of reach. “What’re you doing?”

  “Cleaning the blood off before it gets in your eye.”

  He moved close enough for his wonderful scent, an earthy male smell she’d never encountered before, to tease her senses. No man should smell this good, and definitely not in this heat. Though not even ten o’clock, the temperature had to be near ninety. She hated to think how she smelled. Probably like a mix of wet dishrag and stale fast food.

  When he blotted the cloth on her skin, she winced. Now that her adrenaline and endorphin rush over this cowboy’s delicious face and body waned, her head throbbed, and the cut stung, letting her know she wasn’t dreaming.

  His touch lightened, and after cleaning her forehead, he held out the material to her, but she stared at him in confusion. Did he want her to wash his shirt and return it to him?

  “Hold this against the cut until it stops bleeding. You hurt anywhere else?”

  His gaze scanned over her as if checking for injuries, and she wished she’d taken more time with her appearance this morning, but she’d been in a rush to get on the road. She hadn’t even put on lip gloss or mascara. He looked dreamy and fresh in his jeans and boots while she felt like a wet lump.

  She took a quick inventory and determined all her body parts were still attached. Then she moved her legs, arms, hands, and turned her head from side to side to check her neck. “Everything appears to work.” As she pressed his shirt to her cut with one hand, she grabbed her purse off the passenger seat with the other, and slid out of her car. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m good.”

  He certainly was. All six feet plus an inch or two of him.

  “I’m sorry about rear-ending you.”

  “It happens. I’m just glad neither of us got hurt.” Then he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, and a broad smile spilled across his face. Grace swallowed hard. When he smiled, his eyes lit up like the Christmas tree in Times Square, making a woman wonder what wild thoughts ran through his mind. “Zombie, huh?”

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  He nodded toward her chest. “Your shirt.”

  She glanced downward. Wished she’d taken more time with her appearance? She wished she’d spent any time on it. Not only was she sweaty and travel worn, she stood before this delicious cowboy wearing her stretched out business-major-by-day-zombie-by-night tee and baggy cutoffs. “What can I say? I love zombie movies.”

  “I’m AJ Quinn, fellow zombie movie fan.” He held out his hand.

  Resisting the urge to wipe her damp palms on her shorts, she placed her hand in his and introduced herself.

  AJ pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll call the police to file an official report.”

  “Hold on. Do we really need to go to all the trouble for a simple fender bender?” she asked, keeping her voice light.

  If the police came, they’d run her plates and driver’s license through their system. Wouldn’t that pull up information alerting them she’d been questioned by the local authorities and the FBI in regards to Derek’s embezzlement? As a cop’s daughter she should know the answer. You’d think her father’s lectures would’ve contained the information.

  Maybe her being questioned wouldn’t come up, but she didn’t want to risk it. If anyone here found out why she left New York, she’d lose her chance for a do-over.

  Not only that, but after the FBI interview, the thought of another encounter with law enforcement, even a small town officer, left her queasy.

  “I should tell you—”

  “I say we exchange insurance information and call a tow truck.” Grace glanced at their vehicles and discovered
her car wedged under his truck bed, looking like a scrunched up soda can. AJ’s truck had fared better, but his tailgate needed repairing. “I won’t dispute the accident was my fault. Do we really need to call the police?”

  “Your insurance company will require a police report. In addition, the paramedics should check out your cut. We need someone to clear the debris and an officer to divert traffic until the tow truck arrives.”

  Grace shielded her eyes with her hands and glanced around. Either the man was hallucinating or she was blind because all she saw was grass, cows, a few horses, and the road. “I don’t see any traffic. Oh, wait a minute.” A truck appeared on the horizon. She grinned at the cowboy. “I see the real danger of a multiple car pileup like the ones I’ve heard about on the news.”

  He chuckled. “It’s quiet now, but it won’t last. Wait until it’s shift change at the medical components factory.”

  “I bet it’s just like New York City at rush hour. I can see why you’re worried.”

  AJ pushed his cowboy hat off his forehead, peered down at her, and crossed his arms over his chest stretching his white tee further across his broad shoulders. When she glanced at his biceps, she wondered if the material would split at the seams. “Is there a reason you don’t want the police involved?”

  Apprehension darted down her spine at his accusatory tone, and she fought the urge to squirm under his penetrating gaze. One she swore was similar to the look her father employed whenever he’d grilled her about missing curfew.

  No, she was overreacting because of a hypnosis effect from staring at endless miles of interstate or exhaustion After all, she’d gotten two whole hours sleep last night thanks to the paper-thin hotel walls.

  “Considering I’m the—”

  “All the police will do is complicate matters,” she insisted. “In a town this size an accident has to be big time excitement, and they’ll make a federal case out of it. Isn’t that how small town cops make a name and advance their careers?”

  As the words left her mouth, what she’d said sank in. Pinching her lips together, she wondered how she’d lost control enough to say something so condescending. Maybe she hadn’t sounded as bad as she thought. Or if she had, hey, AJ was a guy. Considering how well they listened, he probably hadn’t heard half of what she said. If she had any luck left he’d tuned her out completely.

  “Sounds like you’ve had personal experience with the law.”

  Grace resisted the urge to sigh. She had luck left all right. Unfortunately none of it good, and she’d rear-ended the one man who actually listened to a woman. From the suspicious look on his face, AJ probably thought her a crazy woman on the run from Lord only knew what.

  Rushing to clear up the misunderstanding, she said, “I’ve never been in trouble with the law. Someone I dated few months ago—” She almost groaned. Apparently she had lost her mind somewhere on the road, because she’d brought up the subject she’d wanted to avoid. With no other choice, she plunged ahead choosing her words carefully. “Someone I dated had problems with the law, and because of our involvement I was questioned by the authorities.”

  She wanted to laugh. Questioned? More like interrogated for a few hours.

  “What happened?” His question and light tone contrasted with the iron strength in his gaze and clenched jaw.

  Naturally cautious, Grace planned what to say before speaking to avoid ending up in awkward situations like this. Her breathing shallow and panicked, her brain started shutting down as the scalding Texas sun beat down on her. It’s frying my skin and what’s left of my brain.

  Knowing panic never helped, she grabbed a calming breath and held it for a second. The pressure in her chest eased, and her mind cleared. A little. More in control, she exhaled and said, “The authorities had trouble believing he hadn’t shared his illegal activities with me.” That didn’t sound too bad, did it? “It wasn’t a pleasant experience.”

  She’d spent hours explaining how she hadn’t considered her relationship with Derek serious, preferring to focus on her career instead of her personal life.

  Even if he didn’t tell you about his activities, you must admit it’s difficult to believe there weren’t signs something was up. You’re a smart woman, Ms. Henry, in a position of authority in the company. How could you have missed what your boyfriend was doing?

  She’d thought the same thing. Even looking back, she couldn’t see any hint of Derek’s embezzlement, but then she’d purposely kept him at a distance, especially at work. He was attractive, knew how to have fun at the end of a long stressful day, and nothing else mattered.

  “What the average person thinks is insignificant sometimes breaks a case open.”

  AJ’s comment pulled Grace away from her thoughts, and she tensed. No mistaking that bit of police jargon. No, he couldn’t be. If he were a police officer, wouldn’t he have told her immediately after the accident?

  Before she could respond, a horn honked, and the truck she’d spotted earlier pulled up to the intersection. An elderly man leaned out the window. “Hey, Chief, you need any help?”

  “We’re fine, George, but thanks for offering,” AJ said.

  Chief? Foreboding swept through Grace, making her shiver despite the heat.

  “I’m fixin’ to call Marjorie to send help to pry this mess apart.” AJ nodded to the tangled vehicles. “Tell Barbara I said hello.”

  As she watched the pickup drive off, Grace’s common sense insisted this couldn’t be happening. Not even she could have this much bad luck in one day. Praying he was the fire chief or it was a nickname with a sports implication rather than what she feared, she asked, “Why did he call you Chief? You said your name was AJ.”

  “It is. George was referring to my job. I’m Wishing’s chief of police.”

  Of course he was. What else would he be? Only she could start off her new life in Wishing by rear-ending, and then insulting the chief of police.

  Humiliation swept through her as she remembered what she’d said about small town police making federal cases out of nothing to advance their careers. To cover her embarrassment, she blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. “You don’t look like a chief of police.”

  His right eyebrow crooked upward in interest. “What does one look like? Shorter? Older? Different hair color? What?”

  She eyed him from the top of his cowboy hat to the tips of his dusty cowboy boots. AJ stood proud and tall. His unwavering gaze locked with hers. Then the corner of his lips turned up, as if he knew she wanted to embarrass him with her slow perusal. As if to say she could look as long as she wanted, and he wouldn’t mind in the least. Talk about a strategy backfiring. While he remained unaffected, her pulse raced like a finely tuned Indie car engine.

  “Now that you mention it, you do seem young for the job. Aren’t people in your position usually closer to fifty and not quite so fit because they spend too much time sitting behind a desk?” Fit? She struggled to keep a straight face over her understatement. The man looked as if he belonged on a hot police officers calendar, but what made her say what she had? Why hadn’t she said most men in his job were out of shape?

  “Sorry I don’t fit the image.”

  I’m not. After all, she was a woman who appreciated a fine view. “It would’ve been nice if you’d told me who you were when we met.”

  Without a hint of guilt on his ruggedly chiseled face, his gaze locked on hers. “Would it have made a difference?”

  Let me think? I might have said a few things differently. “For starters I wouldn’t have said police will complicate things and make a federal case out of this.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t make the best impression.”

  “Thanks. I feel so much better about my comments now. In my defense—” she began, and shuffled her stance, but realized she had no idea where to go from there.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m yanking your chain. I won’t hold what you said against you.” Then he grinned. Full out, see lots of teeth,
eyes sparkling grin, and her Indie engine found another gear. “I tried to tell you a couple of times, but you cut me off. It’s hard to get a word in when you’re on a roll.”

  “You could at least pretend to feel bad.”

  “I don’t play games.”

  Too bad. I can think of some fun ones we could play. Strip poker. Strip checkers. Strip Bingo. Basically strip anything. The words sat perched on her lips ready to jump out. She pinched them together. Where had those disastrous thoughts come from, and how quickly could she forget them?

  The Texas sun had shriveled her brain to prune size. She worried she’d hit raisin size any minute.

  Hello, chief of police, remember? That shoved things back into perspective. If months from now when she’d settled in and decided to venture into the dating pool, she wouldn’t do so with a police officer, much less the chief of police. She knew what life with a cop was like. Her father couldn’t talk about his work because of confidentiality, and yet carried it home with him every day. Cops saw the world as black or white, and when they thought someone was in the wrong, even in their family, they came down hard because life consisted of slippery slopes to be avoided.

  Having anything to do with a cop ranked right up there with taking cover under a tree during a thunderstorm as a smart idea.

  Oh, but the fun she and this handsome lawman could have before the lightning hit.

  Fighting the surge of feminine happy hormones, she crossed her arms over her chest, and stared him down. Once she felt confident to speak without drooling, she said, “You claimed you couldn’t get a word in, but you managed to tell me why we should report the accident, and ask about my involvement with the police. Either time would’ve been a perfect opportunity to tell me who you were.”

  “You’re right. Sorry about that.”

  Dumbfounded, she stared at him, scanning his features to ascertain his sincerity. Cassie read people easily. No one ever pulled anything on her because she sensed insincerity the way drug dogs detected cocaine, but Grace? Not so much.