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The mere idea of being close to this man shook her senses.
Behind that incredibly masculine face and rock-hard body, he was a lawman. How could Noelle be attracted to him?
She couldn’t answer that. She only knew that for the first time in years, Evan was making her remember that she was a woman. And the feeling was too good to pass up.
“I thought you might enjoy seeing something other than that little ranch of yours,” he said with a lazy grin.
Since she’d moved she’d been asked out on a few dates. She’d refused all of them. And something told her if she was smart now, she’d tell Evan Calhoun a loud, decisive no.
But something strange was going on inside her. For the life of her she couldn’t seem to form the word, much less say it to the man.
* * *
Men of the West: Whether ranchers or lawmen, these heartbreakers can ride, shoot—and drive a woman crazy …
The Lawman’s Noelle
Stella Bagwell
STELLA BAGWELL has written more than seventy novels for Mills & Boon. She credits her loyal readers and hopes her stories have brightened their lives in some small way. A cowgirl through and through, she loves to watch old Westerns and has recently learned how to rope a steer. Her days begin and end helping her husband care for a beloved herd of horses on their little ranch located on the south Texas coast. When she’s not ropin’ and ridin’, you’ll find her at her desk, creating her next tale of love. The couple has a son, who is a high school maths teacher and athletic coach. Stella loves to hear from readers and invites them to contact her at [email protected].
MILLS & BOON
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To all my friends at Jim’s Big Burgers.
Thank you for the brownies, coffee and food. And most of all, for making us feel special.
Contents
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Reining the bay horse to a stop on the rocky rise, Noelle Barnes stood in her stirrups and peered toward the dry wash more than a hundred yards below. The dark lump lying near those slabs of rock looked like a man! And he wasn’t moving!
Was he injured or sick? Or even dead?
Her adrenaline pumping, Noelle quickly guided her horse, Driller, down the rocky slope. Along the way, she buried the lower half of her face in the woolen muffler tied around her neck and tried to ignore the early December wind whipping across the bare Nevada hills. The frigid air permeated her heavy brown ranch coat and caused her eyes to water, but she was used to being out in brutal weather. And she could hardly turn back now!
Halfway to the gulch, a sinking feeling hit the pit of her stomach. Her eyes hadn’t deceived her. The object lying at the bottom of the wash wasn’t an animal. It was a person!
Urging her horse to a faster gait, she wound her way downward through the rocks and sage until she reached the bank of the deep gulch. By then she could see a man lying facedown in the gravel.
Oh, my! Was he dead? What was he doing way out here? Alone?
Her heart pounding with fear, she guided Driller over the ledge and down the steep embankment. The ground was loose and the horse’s hind feet slid in several places, but at that moment she wasn’t concerned about either of them falling. Driller was sure-footed, and she’d ridden a horse for nearly all of her twenty-eight years.
“Come on, boy,” she encouraged her trusted mount. “A little farther and we’ll have it made.”
Noelle
