Terri Reed - The Cowboy Target

FRAMED!

For years after the suspicious death of his wife, single dad Wyatt Monroe isolates himself on his Wyoming ranch...until he’s accused of murder. With a body at his doorstep, he’s arrested and Wyatt has only one hope—a blue-eyed, blond bodyguard. But it’ll take more than skill for work-obsessed Jackie Blain to save her reluctant client, who just wants to be left alone. She’ll have to gain his trust by keeping him and his daughter safe. With their lives in her hands, Jackie is faced with her toughest assignment ever—saving the cowboy and guarding her heart.

On the surface Jackie looked sweet, almost fragile....

But Wyatt had glimpsed the hard steel beneath that soft exterior. A bodyguard. Who would’ve thought it?

“So tell me about the dead man,” she said.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“Didn’t say you did.”

He pointed to a dirt road up ahead. “Take a left.”

Jackie turned, her gaze straying to the rearview. “We’re being followed.”

He might think the woman was paranoid or crazy. But considering this morning he’d found a dead body on his porch and spent the past seven hours in jail, he wasn’t going to doubt her. Sticking his head out the window, he strained to listen. “A motorcycle.”

“Hang on!” She stomped on the brake and twisted the wheel, sending the truck into a spin and coming to a halt facing the way they’d come. Their headlights swept over an oncoming motorcycle...moving at a good clip and heading straight for them.

TERRI REED

At an early age Terri Reed discovered the wonderful world of fiction and declared she would one day write a book. Now she is fulfilling that dream and enjoys writing for Love Inspired Books. Her second book, A Sheltering Love, was a 2006 RITA® Award finalist and a 2005 National Readers’ Choice Award finalist. Her book Strictly Confidential, book five in the Faith at the Crossroads continuity series, took third place in the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award, and Her Christmas Protector took third place in 2008. She is an active member of both Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers. She resides in the Pacific Northwest with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children and an array of critters. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, gardening and playing with her dogs.

You can write to Terri at P.O. Box 19555 Portland, OR 97280. Visit her on the web at www.loveinspiredauthors.com, leave comments on her blog, www.ladiesofsuspense.blogspot.com, or email her at terrireed@sterling.net.

The Cowboy Target

Terri Reed

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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But Jesus called the children to him and said,

“Let the little children come to me,

and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth,

anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

—Luke 18:16,17

To my children—you are the joys of my life.

Contents

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

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

ONE

There was a dead man on his porch.

Wyatt Monroe looked into the man’s beaten face. Dried blood covered his body in dark splotches. Purple bruises mottled his skin. Lifeless eyes stared back at Wyatt.

Recognition rocked him back on his heels.

He grabbed his cell from his back pocket and dialed 911. His gaze scanned the buildings of his ranch—his foreman’s house, the hay barn and stables, the equipment shed, feed shed—and the Wyoming landscape beyond, searching for the threat. Snow swirled in the air and covered the pastureland spread out over the sixty-thousand-acre ranch.

All appeared quiet and undisturbed on this brisk March morning.

“Lane County Emergency Department,” the female operator answered. “What’s your emergency?”

“Eleanor, this is Wyatt Monroe.”

“Hey, Wyatt. What’s wrong?”

He could picture the older woman who’d been manning the town’s emergency line for longer than he could remember. But that was life in Lane County, Wyoming. Predictable and steady. The way he wanted his life to be. Sans dead bodies.

“Is Gabby okay?”

The concern in Eleanor’s voice wrapped around Wyatt and squeezed. Too many people in this town wondered if his little girl was safe with him. Three years after his wife, Dina, had died, he couldn’t escape the speculation and suspicion. Even from her grave she was wreaking havoc with his life.

That was what women did. They wormed their way into a guy’s heart and then stomped all over it. His mother had done it to his father. Dina had done it to Wyatt.

Never again.

His gaze lifted to the second floor of his family home. The dormer window with the pink, frilly curtains was closed to protect his four-year-old from the winter weather.

But how protected could she be if someone had dumped a body on his front porch so callously?

“Gabby’s fine,” he said, assuring himself as much as Eleanor. “It’s George Herman.”

Eleanor snorted. “What’s that rascal gone and done now?”

Wyatt’s gaze strayed back to the bloodied, lifeless body of his ranch hand. Gaping wounds littered his torso. Bruises covered his face. The skin of his knuckles had been scraped raw. Poor George.

It was no secret Wyatt and George hadn’t seen eye to eye on most things. But the man had been a hand on the Monroe Ranch since Wyatt had been old enough to sit a horse. Wyatt couldn’t bring himself to fire him. He and Dad had been friends. And George didn’t have anyone or anyplace else to go.

“Got himself killed.” A shudder worked through him. He worked to keep his voice calm. “I found him on my front porch.”

Death was a part of life. He knew that. He’d dealt with more than his share. But still...

The silence on the line was as loud as a shotgun blast.

Wyatt swallowed back the memories of the last time he’d had to make an emergency call. The night Dina had died. The night the town had turned on him, accusing him of murder.

A burn spread through his belly. Her death had been an accident. But few believed him. Including his own mother. Which solidified his belief that women couldn’t be trusted with his heart.

“I’ll inform the sheriff,” Eleanor stated with a decidedly cool tone to her voice.

“Appreciate it,” he said and hung up.

The front door opened behind him with a barely discernible squeak. Wyatt pivoted and strode toward Gabby, her sweet, freckled face peering through the crack in the doorway.

“Daddy?”

He shooed her back inside with a wave of his hands. “It’s too cold for you to come outside in your jammies.” He stepped inside the warm house and firmly shut the door behind him. His daughter didn’t need to see the horror on the porch.