The Lawman's Christmas Proposal

“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 here for nothing, you know.”

While their grandfather and cousin had always lived in Cowboy Creek, Jane and Andi had met up at the family ranch only on school breaks. Neither of them had ever stayed at Garland Ranch longer than a summer vacation—until now. Jane had returned only a few months ago to live here permanently.

Andi had come back to help get the new venture off the ground with this Christmas wedding—and for other reasons she tried to shove aside with her bittersweet memories. “Nothing’s wrong. I just...felt the kids and I needed a change of scenery. When Grandpa asked me to handle this wedding while you and Tina focused on the business end of things, it seemed like the perfect time for a visit.”

Jane’s gray eyes narrowed. “Sorry, but I’m not buying that. It might be hard to handle the heat in Fountain Hills, Arizona, but the scenery there is even better than it is here.”

“I don’t live in Fountain Hills anymore,” she said quietly.

“Oh. When you’d told me the other day you and the kids had moved to an apartment, you didn’t mention it was in another town.” Jane touched her wrist. “Andi, if there’s anything I can do, any way I can give you a hand with something, just say the word. I’ve got some savings built up. I know Grandpa and my dad would help you out in a heartbeat. You know that, too. And wouldn’t your mother-in-law be willing to pitch in?”

“It’s not money.”

Truthfully, it was money that worried her—not enough money and not enough life insurance to pay the mortgage. Grant had insisted they could afford the too-big house in their upscale area not far from his mother. With his salary included, they had gotten by. Without it, she had been forced to sell the home where both her children had lived since they’d been born. But she couldn’t tell her mother-in-law Grant hadn’t provided for his family.

Just as she couldn’t reveal to anyone what Grant’s real job had been. How did you explain to a man’s family that he worked undercover for the CIA?

But now she could tell Jane the truth. Or part of it. “It’s not money so much as the need to get some space from Grant’s family.”

“Things have gotten that bad between you?”

“No.” Andi’s eyes misted. “They’re great.” They just didn’t know he had told them the same cover story she had told her family, that he worked for a computer company with customers and suppliers all over the world. “Ginnie’s always been a fabulous mother-in-law, and everyone else in his family is wonderful. Except...he’s been gone for over a year, and they all act as if he’s just away on business and will walk in the door again any day now.”

She glanced at Jane again. “I loved Grant, you know that. They know that. But I’ve managed to accept that he’s gone. I’ve had to, for Trey and Missy.” Her children had given her the strength she’d needed to survive her loss, and now she needed to stay strong for them. “Ginnie and the rest of Grant’s family still haven’t come to terms with his death. They need—I need—to let go and move on. I know that sounds awful—”

“Not awful at all. It’s a sad fact of life.”

“It’s beyond sad. But I just can’t keep living in the past. For the kids’ sake, I have to think about what comes next.” Her two-year-old son and infant daughter were too young to really feel the loss of their daddy, especially when Grant’s work assignments often had him out of touch for a month or two at a time. But as they got older, they would realize their loss. It was her responsibility to make sure they never lacked for anything else.

So far, she was doing a poor job.

“Then it’s good you’re here,” Jane said. “You’ve got the break from Grant’s family, and you can plan for the future.”

She nodded. Still, despite how determined she might have sounded to Jane, she worried. Her sales assistant job at a clothing store barely covered the rent on her new apartment. She’d had to take the position. With only a year of college behind her, she had left school to get married. Relocating to Arizona, planning a wedding, buying a house and getting swept up in the Price family’s social whirl had made her put school off for a while.

After she had gotten pregnant, she had tabled the idea of school indefinitely. Then she had gotten pregnant again...and Grant had died.

The end result was, she had no employable skills to speak of. The only bright spot was having a best friend with a night job who had volunteered to watch the kids while she worked during the day.

The sound of raised voices came from the hotel lobby. Andi jumped to change the subject. “That’s Grandpa, and he sounds excited.”

They heard a woman’s laugh.

“And that’s Tina,” Jane said. “I wonder what’s going on.”

They didn’t have to wait long to find out. Their cousin Tina entered the dining room. Smiling, she said, “You’ll never guess who Grandpa’s bringing along here with him.”

She was right, at least as far as Andi was concerned.

When Jed Garland walked into the room accompanied by a tall, broad-shouldered man with a noticeable limp, her heart skipped a few critical beats. The man locked gazes with her, and her heart leaped. Never in a million years would she have forgotten those deep blue eyes or that crooked grin or the thick black hair worn just bad-boy long. Never in a million centuries would she have expected—or wished—to run into Mitch Weston again.

She could only hope that since they had last seen each other, he had forgotten all about her.