Stranded With a Hero (25 page)

He grinned. “Done.”

Two…

One.

As people yelled out “Happy New Year!” Nate kissed her again, slower, deeper. He backed her up to the wall of the entryway, kissing her until she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered when they came up for air. She put her hand on his chest and grinned up at him. “So when we get back to Marion, can I drive the cop car with the lights flashing?”

He lowered his forehead to hers. “No way.”

“I’ll talk you into it eventually,” she said, pressing another kiss to his lips. She wasn’t sure how it’d all work, only that they’d find a way. She glanced around, making sure they were still alone, then tugged on the waistband of his pants. “I think I want to unwrap my Christmas present again.”

An adorable blush crept over his cheeks.

Then Mom showed up and let out a high-pitched happy shriek. Kelsey took Nate’s hand and led him into the party. As they stood talking to Mom and Chris, Nate kept shooting her a smile or squeezing her hand, tenderness in every look, every touch.

Only a few minutes in, and this was already the best year ever.

Epilogue

Kelsey swept up the last of the hair off the floor. As luck would have it—or fate, she liked to think—the spot where Mom’s jewelry shop used to be went up for lease the exact day Kelsey moved back to Marion. Nate helped her convert it into a salon, and one of the girls she’d gone to high school with was renting a booth, so she had someone else to help pay the bills and keep her company.

They displayed her metal sculptures up front, and she’d even sold a couple in town, though most of her success was at shows in Charlotte. Being in control of her own place gave her a renewed love of her job, and she was already turning a profit. Nate was transitioning to taking over the farm, but he still worked at the station when needed, and he was on the rescue team when it came to anyone needing help in the nearby mountains.

Basically life was perfect, even when a concerned mom came in to ask why Kelsey had dyed her teenager’s hair the color she had requested. She still caused a bit of a stir with some the older generation when she walked down the street, but she’d managed to win over a few. Dolly started bringing over pastries as soon as Kelsey began renovating the place, their relationship picking up right where they left off, and Kelsey had dyed her hair a bright red that complemented her skin color and fiery personality.

Mrs. Walsh was slowly opening up, getting used to the idea she was there to stay. Kelsey had even made friends with Derek’s fiancée, and was surprised how easily they could hang out. Mom was still too far away, but it was a closer drive from Marion than Charlotte, and they’d both committed to visiting more often.

Nate and Sheriff Henderson walked past the large front window of the salon, slowing near the entrance. As much as it killed her to admit, Nate looked super hot in his police uniform. She bit her lip as she watched for the door to swing open and she could get an even better look.

I still can’t believe I fell for a cop
.

“See you tomorrow,” Nate said to the sheriff as he pushed inside, and his boss nodded at him, then tipped his hat at Kelsey.

“Evening, Sheriff,” she said, flashing him a giant canary-eating grin. The guy always made her feel guilty with a simple glance. It didn’t help that he’d pulled her over twice since she’d been in town. Once for going five over—seriously,
five
—and once for going
slightly
more over than that on the back roads.

He hadn’t given her a ticket either time, out of courtesy to Nate she was sure, and she had a feeling that ate at him.

Nate covered his twitching lips with his hand as he witnessed her and the sheriff’s strained interaction. As soon as the door closed and they were alone, he gripped her waist and gave her a long-awaited kiss. “You ready for dinner?”

“Ooh, which of the two places are we going tonight?”

“Babe, we’ll go anywhere you like.”

They both knew she’d choose the diner. She closed up shop, taking a moment to soak in every detail of her very own salon, including the large sign that read
The Best Little Hair House in North Carolina
.

There was going to be a town meeting about the name next week, since apparently it was “completely inappropriate.” Was it wrong to be excited about it?

Nate raised an eyebrow. “I know that look.”

“What? It’s free speech. Unless they’re paying my rent, I get to call it whatever I want.”

“Mm-hm.”

She spun around and patted his chest, one of her favorite physical features, and he flinched.

“Sorry, was that too hard?”

He brought up his shoulders and she could see he was holding back. She pulled him to a stop. “Nathaniel?”

“I was going to surprise you tonight. But…”

She bounced on her toes. “But what?”

“I…I got a tattoo today.”

“
What?
”

The people around them stopped to stare. Nate pulled Kelsey between two buildings, his cheeks reddening. At first she’d thought he was joking, but from the look on his face she could tell he wasn’t. Her Nate decided to get a tattoo?

“Lemme see, lemme see.” She couldn’t wait to see what he’d decided was important enough to make permanent.

He glanced at the mouth of the alley, then back at her.

“Don’t make me rip your clothes off right here, Officer Walsh, because you know I totally will,” she teased, getting a thrill at the way his eyes lit up with a combination of embarrassment and interest.

He shook his head. “One day you’re going to get me tossed in jail for indecent exposure.”

“I certainly hope so.” She reached up to unbutton his shirt. His eyes locked onto her as she did it, and she got the same feeling she had at Christmas, tearing open wrapping paper with no idea what’d be underneath.

She gently peeled back the gauze. Her name was in script, right on the spot she’d hit earlier. For a moment, she just stared, her heart expanding and pushing against her ribcage as all the love she had for him rose up.

“I love it.” She pressed a light kiss over it. “Soon you’ll be as addicted to getting them as I am.”

“Nope, that’s it for me. One tattoo, one girl.”

She slid her arms around his waist and kissed him again, considering her earlier threat to strip him down right here and now. It was crazy how one snowstorm could change her entire life. That night, Nate had ended up saving her in more ways than one. With him, she felt a security she never had before, and even better, they made an awesome team, something else that was new to her when it came to relationships.

And she couldn’t wait until next Christmas, when they’d be cuddled up by the fireplace, sitting under their very own tree decorated with reject popcorn strands and scrap metal ornaments.

Don’t miss the first two books in Cindi Madsen’s
Accidentally In Love
series:

Falling for Her Fiancé

What’s a little fake engagement between best friends?

Danielle and Wes have been best friends since college, so when Wes needs a date for his sister’s wedding and Dani needs a partner for her company’s retreat, they devise the perfect plan: a fake engagement to get through both events unscathed. Adrenaline-junkie Wes can prove to both his ex and his family that he’s well and truly moved on, and serious-minded Dani can prove to her boss that she’s worthy of the promotion he seems to only want to give to a family-oriented employee. But amid the fake swoons, fake kisses, and forced proximity, neither expects the very real feelings that develop. There’s nothing more dangerous than falling for your best friend…but what if the landing is worth the fall? 

Act Like You Love Me

What would you do for a second chance at your first crush?

Brynn McAdams isn’t the awkward geek she was in high school--she’s grown up and confident, or at least she tries to be. But when her old crush, the impossibly handsome and impossibly unattainable Sawyer Raines, comes back to town to direct her community play, Brynn finds herself determined to be the glamorous girl she knows he’d want, not the shy girl he doesn’t even recognize. Good thing she’s an 
excellent
 actress.

After his bad breakup in NYC, the last thing Sawyer wants is to get involved with another actress. But the poised and beautiful Brynn draws him in, even though as her director, he knows she’s off-limits. The few glimpses he gets of the goofy, carefree Brynn just makes her feel…familiar. Like home.

As Brynn’s l
ies start to snowball, she struggles to stop acting and come clean. But what if Sawyer is already falling for the fake Brynn, not the Brynn she truly is?

About the Author

Cindi Madsen sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting, revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a new pretty pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music, dancing, and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children. She is the author of YA novel
All the Broken Pieces,
adult romances
Falling for Her Fiancé
and
Act Like You Love Me,
and the upcoming contemporary romances
Cinderella Screwed Me Over
and
Ready to Wed.

You can find Cindi at
cindimadsen.com

Follow her on twitter
@cindimadsen

Saving the Sheriff

A Three River Ranch novella

Roxanne Snopek

Chapter One

What a way to spend Christmas Eve. Sheriff Red LeClair tucked his chin into his chest, the fresh assault of stinging snow enough to take his breath away. He crunched through the ice-crusted path to the field where a small band of wild mustangs waited patiently, barely visible as shadows against the nighttime backdrop of cedar and fir.

“Carson spoils you, you know,” he called to them, tossing a bale of hay onto the ground beyond the beam of light thrown by his pickup.

The weather forecast had predicted a dump of snow over the next few days, but the wind had caught them all by surprise. The livestock would be burning a lot of fuel just to stay warm.

Red threw down a couple more bales, and with a quick flick of his utility knife, cut the twine, spilling fragrant splits of summer over the snow. Beneath the heavy-duty leather gloves, his fingers were stiff with cold, but he wasn’t really complaining. In fact, he’d leaped at the chance to look after Three River Ranch while his friend was away. Tramping through the snow, freezing his butt off, was a damn sight better than watching endless
Miracle on 34
th
Street
reruns in his empty Lutherton apartment. Whoever said there’s no place like home for the holidays obviously didn’t buy groceries in single-serve portions.

Carson Granger wouldn’t have left at all, except that his wife Rory’s mom had given them and their little girl Lulu an all-expenses-paid trip to Maui, where she was having a family-only Christmas wedding. To Red’s way of thinking, step-father-in-law stretched the meaning of the word family, but he wasn’t about to argue. He was grateful to have somewhere to be and something to do.

Their next-nearest neighbor, Zach, had promised to check in every day or two, on Carson’s request, but Red could handle it on his own. He liked Zach Gamble well enough but he didn’t need a babysitter. He didn’t need any company at all. Christmas was a hell of a time for a guy with no family to speak of, who’d signed his final divorce papers less than a month ago.

He climbed back into the truck and pulled away from the corral. At least this year was better than last year. He’d gotten the position in Lutherton, Montana, the same week Kayla got her first nibble from a recording studio. It never occurred to him that she wouldn’t be as excited for him as he was for her. When he offered to give up the promotion to go to Nashville with her, he’d seen disappointment flit over her face. It had taken him months to realize that her chance at musical stardom was also her chance to start over, without him. And that neither of them had been happy for a long time.

But that didn’t stop the pain.

In his rearview mirror, he saw the horses slip out of the shadows for their meal, individuals appearing only as edges to the murky herd, moving as one, a unit whose strength lay in numbers.

In the barn, he dumped fresh kibble into the pans for the colony of feral cats that lurked in the corners, fat and full-coated for the winter, big-eyed with suspicion.

Even
they
lived as a group.

Must be nice.

He pushed the thought out of his head and forced himself to focus on his chores. Work hard, be friendly, but don’t let anyone get close enough to hurt you. That was his mantra now.

Every howl of wind made the walls shriek and groan and he could feel the temperature dropping by the minute. He added an extra measure of kibble in case he had to hole up inside and wait out the storm.

Water lines clear, check. Fresh feed for the saddle horses, check. Clean stalls, check. Gates, doors and latches secure, check, check and check.

He slogged back to the truck, thinking about the casserole Rory’s housekeeper Bliss had left in the refrigerator for him, wishing he’d remembered to bring beer. And some action movies on DVD. Lord knows it would be slim pickings on TV. He’d spent last Christmas watching the tube blindly, letting tinny laugh tracks and remixed music wash over him as he sat numbly in the debris left by Kayla’s departure.

This year, he had the lights and decorations on Rory’s pretty tree sparkling in the corner. Second-hand joy was better than none. But those old favorite movies and carols still hurt too much.

He pulled the truck door open against the wind but before he could step in, the gale yanked it from his hands. He barely managed to haul it shut behind him. This storm was really working itself up. He couldn’t wait to get indoors again.

He’d nuke a heaping plate of that Bliss special, bum a couple of beers off Carson and channel surf until he found
Dexter
or
Sons of Anarchy
. Even
CSI
or
Criminal Minds
would do.

But just before he turned the ignition, he heard a sound he shouldn’t have. An engine revving, tires spinning on ice and the bone-jarring sound a clutch makes beneath an impatient foot.

Three River Ranch had a trespasser.

…

Thank goodness she’d had time to switch out the black plastic boots for proper footwear, thought Frankie Sylva, looking down at her ridiculous elf suit. It was hardly suitable for being stuck in a truck and buried in snow.

But teachers-on-call couldn’t let any job go by, however short or humiliating. Especially when that job dove-tailed with the other passion in her life: animal rescue.

She’d succeeded, and that gave her a glow that even the stinging snow couldn’t erase. Score one for the good guys! The precious creatures she’d transported to the Three River Ranch sanctuary would now have a chance to live as nature intended, rather than being turned into Christmas dinner. Or trophies on a wall.

She shuddered.

Focus!
She tugged the ridiculous puff-ball-topped toque further onto her head but it did little to protect her from the frigid wind, which seemed to get stronger every second.

Frankie stood on the upside of the gentle slope into which the rear tires of the trailer had slid when she’d attempted to pull it from the corral gate. Invisible ditch. Good one, Universe. The snow around her was dirt-spattered and hoof-trampled but she couldn’t help that now.

She needed a tow truck. Unfortunately, she found her cell phone lying on the floor of the cab in a puddle of melted snow, dead as a doornail. No blaming
that
on the universe.

If only she’d told someone where she was going over the holidays, maybe there would be a chance a friend would come looking for her. But this year was an aberration. Normally, she roasted a turkey and invited everyone and anyone she knew who would otherwise be alone. Then, she’d serve meals at a soup kitchen, clean cages at the animal shelter, sing in the community choir, whatever she could to help.

There were plenty of causes that needed her, and she’d learned to love volunteering at Christmas. She’d made tons of friends this way. But they were, as the saying went, the kind of friends who help you move, not the kind who helped you move a body.

Or in this case, five bodies.

Independence, it seemed, had its down side.

But this kind of thinking, she admonished herself, wasn’t the least bit helpful.

Her second-best plan was to unhitch the trailer and leave it until the storm blew over and she could dig her way out.

She shone her flashlight over the connection between her boss’s now-empty truck and trailer.

The rig had been prepped, loaded and idling when she’d told the driver he didn’t have to make the haul to the slaughterhouse after all, that she’d do it for him. He’d tossed her the keys so fast her cover story was pretty much wasted.

Unfortunately, he’d also assumed she knew how a hitch worked. Or how to back up on a single-lane road. Or how to craft a contingency plan.

The animals were free, that was the important thing. Her evil boss wouldn’t be barbequing them as burgers next summer. So she’d miscalculated the storm. So she’d spend the night in the truck. She had trail mix. She had a flashlight. She’d be okay. It would be fine.

And once the sun was up, she could dig herself out.

“Help you?”

Frankie jumped and dropped her flashlight. Bone-deep instinct kicked in, a primal
watch out, honey!
Not necessarily danger…but maybe.

Two words, and oh, baby. No gruff old-timer, his voice sounded young, strong…and smoky, full of…campfire stories…and marshmallows roasted on fresh-cut branches…

She gave her head a shake.
Don’t be an idiot, Frankie.

He was a man with a truck.

“I’m stuck.” She put on her most innocent grin and faced the headlights. She couldn’t see a thing through the snow. “Can you help me out?”

Three River was supposed to be empty over Christmas. At least, the ranch’s Facebook page had indicated the family was in Maui. The mustang sanctuary was well-known among animal lovers and Frankie felt certain they’d have helped her cause, if she could have asked them. So she’d taken a chance that they wouldn’t mind. That in fact, they’d never know.

Yet here was a man, from what she could hear over the snarl of engines and wind. A man unexpected, in every way.

But what if he was private security? Or worse, a game warden.

Stop it! Think positively, Frankie!

Maybe, despite the little mishap with the ditch, the universe was on her side after all. Maybe this was just a kindhearted local who’d be delighted to help out a damsel in distress.

The man stepped out, leaving the engine running and the driver’s door standing open. This time she caught a glimpse of a cowboy hat and beneath it, a stubbled jawline. Broad shoulders. And tall. He held up a much better flashlight than the one she had, shining it high, scanning the truck, the listing trailer. Then scanning her. The beam of light traveled over her body, up and down, leaving no inch untouched. Warmth rose to her cheeks, prickly in the winter air.

“Wanna tell me who you are and what you’re doing here?” He cleared his throat and she thought she heard the glimmer of a smile. “Lost on your way to work?”

“Ha-ha.” She sighed and stamped her feet, aching with cold now that she was standing still. “Yes, I’m wearing an elf costume. Can you pull me out or what?”

He walked up to the trailer and shone the beam inside. He moved smoothly, deliberately—like a hunter she thought, her breath quickening.

“That option disappeared about six inches ago, I’d say.” The man knocked his fist against the side of the truck, the metal echoing hollowly, and then he moved the light off her and aimed it out into the empty field. “Red LeClair, Lutherton sheriff and currently in charge of this icy little slice of heaven. Wanna tell me what’s going on out here? Ma’am?”

Sheriff!
Universe: home run, Frankie: out.

Frankie followed his light where it dissolved in the darkness, watched it catch on low shrubs and rocks sticking up through the snow. She swept a gloved hand over her cheek and bit her lip. She’d expected the animals to bound off into the sunset the second she opened the trailer, but it hadn’t happened like that. They’d wandered off to the nearest wooded area, but that’s as far as they’d gone. At least the snow was coming down so hard and fast their hoofprints were nearly covered already. But would they find the food set out for the mustangs? They wouldn’t last long in this weather.

Go! Run! She urged them silently. Had she been too late? Were they already too habituated to humans? This was the perfect location for them. Perfect!

As his light moved, she could see the gleam of eyes, still watching from the woods. Darn!

“Look,” she said, eager to draw his attention back. “I’m sure this looks a little…odd—”

“What this looks like,” he said, clicking off his light and crossing his arms, “is trespassing. For starters.”

She swallowed. “Technically, you might have a point. But I can explain.”

“How about we start with your license and registration, please. Ma’am.”

And that’s when Frankie began to suspect the universe wasn’t just having a little fun at her expense, but was in fact a PMSing hag. She rummaged through the glove box until she found the crumpled insurance papers belonging to Conrad Toole, the man who owned the truck and the dilapidated roadside Christmas display she’d been part of. Until tonight, when she’d liberated the five young elk he’d been parading as reindeer.

She could see how this might appear sketchy.

“Nice to meet you, Francesca Sylva of Kalispell, Montana,” said the man, looking up from her license, checking the photo against reality. Then he held up the truck papers. “You’re a long way from home, ma’am.”

The wolfish glint in his eyes was at odds with his gentlemanly words. Time to work that damsel-in-distress business, hard. “Thank goodness you happened along, Sheriff! I’m delivering this empty trailer to my…brother…and I’m afraid I got turned around.”

She batted frozen lashes.

Sheriff Red LeClair waited, like a teacher listening to another “the dog ate my homework” story.

“Now I’m stuck,” she continued, forcing her numb lips into what she hoped was a smile. “I just need a push. If you could help me get those pesky wheels back onto solid ground, or maybe lend me your cell phone, I’d be so grateful.”

At that, his eyes narrowed. “Really. You’d be grateful.”

Oh lord. That sounded bad, even to her own ears. But before she could dig herself in deeper, he went on.

“Since the highway closed an hour ago, I’m guessing you got here via the back roads. So unless your…brother…lives right around here, there’s no place to go.”

Frankie looked away, the quick hard thuds of her heart telling her that this escapade had gone from bad to worse.