Stella Bagwell: Her Texas Lawman

“You just haven’t found the right woman yet. That is–if you want to look for her.”

There were questions in Ripp’s eyes; soft needy questions that couldn’t be answered entirely with words. Her racing heart screeched almost to a halt as his head slowly dipped towards hers.

“I am looking for her, Lucita,” he murmured. “I’m looking right now.”

Sensing what was coming, she tried to speak his name, warn him in some way that what he was about to do was fruitless. But nothing would pass her lips.

She could duck her head or jump to her feet and run like a scared rabbit. But those fleeting thoughts didn’t stand a chance against the delicious anticipation zipping through her veins. And instead of resisting, something deep within had her leaning towards him, tilting her head so that her lips were totally available to his…

Heart of Stone

by Diana Palmer

The Rancher’s Surprise Marriage

by Susan Crosby

Hannah’s Baby

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

Her Texas Lawman

by Stella Bagwell

The Prince’s Royal Dilemma

by Brenda Harlen

The Baby Plan

by Kate Little

STELLA BAGWELL

sold her first book in November 1985. Now, she still loves her job and says she isn’t completely content unless she’s writing. She and her husband live in Seadrift, Texas, a sleepy little fishing town located on the coastal bend. Stella says the water, the tropical climate and the seabirds make it a lovely place to let her imagination soar and to put the stories in her head down on paper.

She and her husband have one son, Jason, who lives and teaches maths in nearby Port Lavaca.

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To Marilyn, Shara, Nancy, Shirley and Erica.

I love you all!

Was the driver crazy? At this rate he was going to hit her!

The headlights in Lucita Sanchez’s rearview mirror were growing closer and closer, blinding her view of the secluded black highway in front of her.

Fear rifled through her, shooting adrenaline to every nerve in her body. Her knuckles in a white grip on the steering wheel, she pressed on the car’s accelerator, hoping to pull away from the approaching vehicle.

Was the driver deliberately trying to ram into her? Maybe the driver couldn’t see her?

Don’t try to kid yourself, Lucita. Someone has been tailing you for weeks now. Long before you moved back to the Sandbur.

The broken white lines in the middle of the highway became one long blur as the speedometer crept toward ninety, then ninety-five. Behind her, the vehicle didn’t appear to be relenting. Instead, the headlights seemed to be inching closer and closer to her back bumper.

Her mind was snatching for ways to escape when a jolt from behind lurched her forward in the seat and threatened to wrench the steering wheel from her grip.

The driver was ramming into her car! Someone was trying to kill her!

Dear God, what could she do? Obviously she couldn’t outrun the other car. Even at this speed she was in dire danger of crashing. If she tried to pull over and stop, what would the driver do then? Stop and confront her?

She was frantically weighing the consequences of both choices when a black blob suddenly appeared directly in front of her on the highway.

Screaming, Lucita stomped on the brakes to avoid the animal. Her car instantly skidded sideways. Lights flashed as the vehicle spun round and round, end to end. The whipping momentum shot the car across the grassy right-of-way where it smashed through a fence, then crashed straight into an electric pole.

The violent jolt released the air bag and the safety device exploded in her face, the force snapping Lucita’s head sideways against the window. She felt a stinging blow, and then she felt nothing at all.

Sometime later, she wasn’t sure how long, awareness slowly returned to Lucita. Dazed, she struggled to push herself upright. The air bag had deflated and the nylon fabric was now draped uselessly against the steering wheel. Some sort of white powder was all over her. Apparently the stuff had exploded with the eruption of the air bag.

In front of her, steam was pouring from the crumpled hood and raining down on the cracked windshield. Incredibly, the headlights were still burning, shining a wide swath of light into someone’s pasture and illuminating several bulls grazing among a stand of tall mesquite trees.

Where was she? And what had happened?

Shoving strands of light brown hair off her face, she peered out the back windshield. More than fifty yards away, the highway was black and eerily quiet. Apparently no vehicles had passed since she’d rammed into the electric pole, or if anyone had driven by, they’d not stopped to help.

And what about the menacing vehicle that had been behind her? Whoever had been driving had obviously not stopped to offer her a helping hand when they’d witnessed her crash, which only proved the person had been out to do her harm.

With hands shaking violently, she felt along the left side of the dash and managed to turn off the headlights. The idiot who’d rammed into her just might decide to return and she didn’t want the headlights of her disabled car to be shouting, here I am.

As total darkness settled around her, she realized the shoulder strap on the safety belt was biting into her throat. She reached for the buckle at her waist, then cursed beneath her breath as her fingers fumbled with the latch several times before she finally managed to unfasten it. Once she was free from the belt’s restraint, she breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

Now, she needed to find her purse, she thought, as she tried to come up with a plan. Her cell phone was inside the bag. If all the jolting hadn’t damaged it, she could get help within a few minutes.

Like a blind person, she flattened her hands and began to pat carefully along the seats and the floorboard. After several attempts, she finally discovered the handbag behind the passenger seat. Thankfully, the bag was zipped shut and the cell phone was exactly where she’d placed it.

When the instrument lit up, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks and quickly punched in 911. After informing the dispatcher of her accident and approximate location, she put the phone away and leaned back in the seat. Her family had gone to dinner at a neighbor’s and she didn’t want to bother them until she had to.

Lucita’s mind tumbled with questions as to what to do next. Should she get out of the car to wait? Even though she didn’t smell any fumes, the thing could be leaking gasoline, and any kind of spark might ignite flames. But knee-deep grass and weeds surrounded the car and rattlesnakes were as thick as rats in this area of Texas. Anyone with a lick of common sense wouldn’t walk across their yard at night without a flashlight, much less wade through a tangle of vegetation on the side of the highway. If she had a flashlight to illuminate her steps, she might venture the trek from her car to the highway. But, damn it, she could never remember to keep one in the glove compartment.