Shelley Galloway - Austin - Second Chance Cowboy

Wild At Hart

No man should look as good as Austin Wright. Especially when that man is a suspect in a string of burglaries. And, Sheriff Dinah Hart can’t afford the distraction. Roundup’s thieves are growing bolder and Thunder Ranch’s prize stallion, Midnight, is still missing, putting the Harts’ entire livelihood at risk. Dinah needs to focus, because she’s worked too hard to earn the town’s respect just to throw it away on a fling.

Austin knows he’s got a bad reputation. He’s been following his father’s self-destructive footsteps for far too long. Now he’s finally ready to take the first step toward fixing his life, and convincing people, especially Dinah, that he’s changed.

But when Austin discovers an unexpected connection to Midnight’s disappearance, will Dinah see him for the man he was, or the one he’s trying to become?

“See anything you like?” Austin drawled

Dinah turned on her heel and opened her mouth to tell him that she’d heard that line before. Why, maybe even a dozen times.

But Austin was standing much closer than she anticipated. Actually, they were standing so close that she could smell his cologne. And the starch on his shirt. And the worn leather of his old, scruffy boots. And, well, everything else about him that made him distinctly Austin Wright.

Reading her mind, he grinned slowly. “Brings back old memories, doesn’t it?”

Dinah’s chin snapped up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A fresh set of lines showed up at the corners of his eyes. “Sure you do…and I do, too.” Leaning so close that it was almost uncomfortable, he whispered, “Remember when we used to see each other at the honky tonks? When we used to flirt a little too much? Stand a little too close?”

Oh, she remembered a whole lot of things, all right. Maybe too many for her own good.

Dear Reader,

I don’t exactly recall when my father first got Jet, his beautiful palomino. I do recall that we all thought Jet was a wonderful horse, and though I was very allergic to him, I’d sometimes walk with my dad to the barn or one of the pastures and visit him.

Jet’s life with my dad was fairly sedate. My dad would ride him when he could. Otherwise Jet lived a life of semiretirement, grazing and resting. By the time I was a senior in high school, my father was fairly involved in the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. Because of that, he was invited to ride in the arena one evening. So off Jet went to the Astrodome! I was sitting in the stands (loaded up with Benadryl), camera in hand, and then, all of a sudden, there they were. My dad and Jet on the Astrodome’s big screen! It would be hard to say who looked prouder—my dad or that horse.

I thought a lot about that moment when I wrote this book. I think there’s a time in everyone’s life when he or she is ready to shine, to have a second chance for glory. I did my best to let Austin and Dinah have that moment in this novel.

I can’t tell you what an honor it’s been to be a part of this continuity. I’m grateful for the other authors for their advice, and to our amazing team of editors for their guidance.

I hope you enjoy the book! And I’m as anxious as you to read Beau: Cowboy Protector by Marin Thomas, the next installment of the Harts of the Rodeo series!

Shelley Galloway

Austin:

Second Chance Cowboy

Shelley Galloway

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Shelley Galloway grew up in Houston, Texas, left for college in Colorado, then returned to Dallas for six years. After teaching lots and lots of sixth graders, she now lives with her husband, aging beagle and barking wiener dog in southern Ohio. She writes full-time. To date, Shelley has penned more than thirty novels for various publishers, both as Shelley Galloway for the Harlequin American Romance line, and as Shelley Shepard Gray for Avon Inspire.

Her novels have appeared on bestsellers lists. She won a Reviewers’ Choice Award in 2006 and a Holt Medallion in 2009. Currently, she writes all day, texts her college son too much and tries not to think about her daughter going to college next year, too. Please visit her online at www.Harlequin.comor her website, www.shelleygalloway.com.

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This book is dedicated to my fellow Harlequin Continuity Authors, Cathy, C.J., Roz, Marin, Linda. What a privilege it’s been!

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

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Excerpt

Chapter One

The light streaming through the cheap metal miniblinds was blinding. Austin Wright discovered if he squinted his eyes and turned his head a little to the left, he could almost stand it. Now, if he could only find a way to deal with the sickly, sweet sensation of needing to vomit.

Why the hell hadn’t he stopped after those first three shots of Cuervo Gold?

Because you’re a drunk, a stinging, no-holds-barred voice whispered into his ear. Whispered being the key phrase. Anything louder was going to cause him to run—not walk—to the bathroom and divest himself of the remaining contents of his stomach.

He almost remembered the events of last night, but wasn’t quite sure. Most of those memories were forever lost in a blackout. Austin gingerly propped himself up on his elbows and began looking for evidence. He’d done this before.

Too many mornings, the voice declared, making him wince. Only the threat of spending the rest of his morning washing soiled sheets kept him from lying back down and praying for oblivion. He’d done that before, too.

Warily, he glanced to his left. His Wranglers lay in a wad on the floor. Both his ropers were there, too.

He was just about to test turning his head to the right when a Gary Allan song started blaring from his cell phone.

Shit.

Scooting to the edge of the bed, he carefully bent down and reached a shaky hand toward his jeans. In one carnival-contortionist move, he was able to inch the denim closer, pull his cell out of the back pocket and finally punch the phone. Blessed silence.

“Yeah?” he rasped.

“Austin?” The girl’s voice was as sweet as it was sinful. “Honey, you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he muttered, doing his best to recall the lady’s name on the other side of the phone. Sandra? Cindy?

Finally, the name clicked. Stacy.

“I’m okay, Stacy,” he said, emphasizing her name. As though it was a real special thing for him to remember.

“Oh, good,” she replied with a breathless sigh. “I was a little worried last night. After, you know…”

No, as a matter of fact, he had no idea what the “you know” referred to. Biting his lip, he turned to the other side of the bed, looking for any sign that a woman had slept there.