Cathy Gillen - A Texas Soldier's Family

“If you say so.”

Clearly, he still had something on his mind.

Hope straightened. “What is it?”

“I’m all for getting my mother out of the public eye. But are you sure this is going to work? Property records are public. The press could still figure out where she’s gone.”

Hope appreciated his concern for his family’s welfare. “They could.”

“But...?”

“It’s unlikely a Dallas news crew will travel three hours out to Laramie, and then back, just to hear a no comment from someone other than your mother. When they could easily interview someone from a nonprofit right here in the metroplex who has a lot to say about how they and the people they serve have been wronged.”

“You’re the scandal manager.” Garrett settled behind the wheel, his large, muscular frame filling up the interior of her car. Frowning, he fit the key into the ignition. “But can’t you pressure the news organizations to present both sides of the story?”

“Yes, and for the record, I already have.” Hope climbed into the passenger seat and closed the garage via remote. “But the Dallas papers and TV stations can still keep the story going—and ostensibly show your side, too—although not necessarily in a positive light.”

His brow furrowed at her careful tone. “How, if my mother isn’t available for any more interviews?”

Nor was anyone else in the family, Hope knew, since his only sister, Sage, was already en route back to Seattle, to handle a catering gig the next day. Chance and Wyatt were headed back to their West Texas ranches, to care for their herds. And Garrett had certainly made it clear he didn’t intend to cooperate with the press. She exhaled. “The media can show old news footage of your mother and father when they announced the formation of the Lockhart Foundation.”

Garrett’s shoulders tensed. “That was a black-tie gala.”

“Right. And would likely be salaciously depicted, at least by some outlets, as the Haves versus the Have Nots.”

Garrett slid a pair of sunglasses on over his eyes. “So, in other words, we’re damned if we stay and have reporters chasing after us with every new accusation. And damned if we leave town and avoid their inquiries, too.”

“Not for long, if I do my job, which I certainly plan to do.”

To Hope’s relief, for the first time since they’d met, he seemed willing to let her take charge of the volatile situation. At least temporarily. So, while Garrett drove, she worked on her laptop computer and her infant son slept.

It was only when they entered rural Laramie County, near dusk, that the trip took an eventful turn.

“Do you see that?” Hope pointed to a disabled pickup truck ahead. The hood was up on the battered vehicle. A young couple stood beside the smoking engine, apparently as unhappy with each other as they were with their transportation.

Worse, the young man—with a muscular upper body and military haircut—was on crutches, his left leg obscured by pressure bandages and a complicated brace.

Garrett drove up beside them. “Need a helping hand?”

“I’m Darcy Dunlop,” the young woman said, her thin face lighting up with relief. “And yes!”

“We’ve got it.” Her grim-faced companion shook his head.

“Tank!” Darcy said, wringing her hands in distress.

“We’ll just wait for the tow truck.”

“But the mechanic said we didn’t have to be here! As long as we leave the truck unlocked, he can take it back to the garage in town on his own.”

Tank’s jaw set, even more stubbornly.

Garrett stuck out his hand, introducing himself. “Army Medical Corps...”

The other man’s expression relaxed slightly. “Infantry. Until this.” He pointed to his injured leg. “Not sure what I’m going to do next...”

They talked a little about the fellow soldier who had saved Tank’s life, and the IED fragments that had made a mess of his limb. How his parents—who lived locally—had taken them in during the year it was going to take to recover and get his strength back.

“That’s rough,” Garrett said in commiseration.

Darcy’s lower lip trembled. “What’s worse is how far we have to go so Tank can get treatment. We either drive back and forth to the closest military hospital—which is a couple hours from here—or Tank gets his care in Laramie. And the rehab there, well, I mean everybody’s nice, but they have no experience with what’s happened to Tank.”

Garrett understood—as did Hope—that there were some things only fellow soldiers, who had served in a war zone, could comprehend. The camaraderie was as essential to healing as medical care. Garrett gave Tank a look of respect. “How about we give you a lift home.”

Darcy gave her husband a pleading look.

Shoulders slumping in relief, the former soldier consented. “Thanks.”

Knowing Tank would have more room for his leg brace in the front, Hope climbed in back to sit with Max, who was beginning to wake up. Darcy took the other side. The two women chatted while Tank gave directions to his parents’ home, a few miles north.

When they arrived, Garrett scribbled a number on the back of a business card and handed it to the other man. “I’ll be around for the next few days, taking care of some family business, so if you need anything...”

Tank shook his hand. “Appreciate it.”

Hope could see the meeting had affected Garrett. It had affected her, too.

“I don’t understand how the military can boot someone out, just because they got injured,” she fumed, as they drove away.

Garrett paused to study the unmarked intersection of country roads. No street names were showing up on her GPS screen, Hope noted. Which meant she might, indeed, have gotten lost trying to find her way to the ranch.

“It was probably his choice to get a medical discharge rather than stay in,” Garrett pointed out, pausing to glance at a set of directions he had in his pocket, before turning south again.

“Why would Tank do that when he clearly loved being part of the armed service?”

“Because doing so would have meant taking a desk job, once he had recuperated, and my guess is Tank didn’t see himself being happy that way. He probably wanted to be with his buddies—who were all still in Infantry—or out of the service completely,” he said, as they reached the entrance to the Circle H Ranch.

Hope wasn’t sure what she had expected, since Lucille had promised they would all be quite comfortable there, and have as much privacy as they needed. Maybe something as luxurious as Lucille’s Dallas mansion. But the turnoff was marked by a mailbox, and a wrought-iron sign that had definitely seen better days. The gravel lane leading up to the ranch house was bordered by a fence that was falling down in places. The barn and stables looked just as dilapidated.

Garrett cut the engine.

Handsome face taut with concern, he got out and opened the door for her. “Mom and her driver were supposed to be here ahead of us.”

Obviously, that had not happened. Max, who’d been remarkably quiet and content, let out an impatient cry.

“I know, baby,” Hope soothed, patting her son on the back. “You’re hungry. Probably wet, too.” She lifted him out of the car seat and moved to stand beside Garrett. “But we’re going to take care of all that.”

Garrett led her up onto the porch of the rambling two-story ranch house with the gabled roof. He unlocked the door and swung it open. Like him, Hope could only stare.

Chapter Three Contents Cover Introduction “Dream on, Alpha Man.” His eyes crinkled mischievously at the corners. “Alpha Man?” Had she really said that? She must be punchier than she thought. “It was an insult. A friendly one.” Hope bit down on an oath. She was just making it worse. He laughed, his husky baritone like music to her ears. Continued giving her the long, sexy onceover. “Sounded more like a compliment to me.” He was twisting everything around, embarrassing her and putting her off her game. Indignant, she trod closer. “Of course you would think that.” He held his ground, arms folded in front of him. Again, that long, steady appraisal. “Because I’m alpha?” He definitely was not a beta man. “Can we end this repartee?” He gathered her in his arms. “With pleasure.” “What are you doing?” “What any alpha male would do in this situation.” Grinning, he lowered his face to hers. Title Page A Texas Soldier’s Family Cathy Gillen Thacker www.millsandboon.co.uk 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 Mills & Boon 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, www.cathygillenthacker.com , for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things. 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 Extract Copyright