Prodigal Cowgirl
Heart of Oklahoma
Lacy Williams
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Dear Reader
Once Upon a Cowboy sneak peek
Also by Lacy Williams
1
October
Things had gotten too crazy.
Courtney Sutton ducked behind the corner of the house. Her huge, puffed skirt swirled around her, the tulle fabric catching on a bramble or bush or something.
She pressed one hand to her chest, grimacing at the elbow-length evening glove. The exposed skin of her shoulders and upper arms had goosebumps from the cool night air.
Between her daughter Lily and her brother Jake, this Halloween party was out of hand.
A costume party. And half the town had shown up.
Courtney had heard from Stevie—Jake's wife and a popular country music singer—about Jake's mad scientist antics, and she'd thought she'd been prepared, but...
How did you prepare for something like this?
This year, Jake taken it upon himself to throw a full-fledged bash. And as soon as Lily had heard about his plans, she'd been gung-ho. Even Stevie had been in on it, playing an acoustic set on a mini-outdoor stage Jake had set up on the back side of the barn. What could Courtney do to fight them?
Jake claimed the party was a marketing device to help them sell more pumpkins this year.
But Courtney wasn't fooled.
They thought they were building goodwill toward her with the residents of Redbud Trails. But the hole she'd dug for herself before her stint in prison was too deep for one party to get her out of. She'd been good at being wild and very little else.
It didn't help that the crush of bodies was pushing all her anxiety buttons. For five-and-a-half years, she'd mostly been confined to a six-by-eight cell, with breaks for mealtime and recreation.
She didn't know how to deal with this many people. It wasn't just the number of people, if was the cacophony of voices, the dancing and yelling and running and pure chaos of the party. Orderly lines and quiet voices—that's what her life had been.
Courtney's Cinderella-style ball gown and the silvery domino mask she wore might do a cursory job of hiding her identity, but she had a feeling most of the people—Jake's friends, Lily's classmates' parents—knew who she was underneath. It was impossible to hide ugly beneath a fancy dress and a mask.
She stood cloaked in shadow and out of sight of the party. She peered around the corner of Jake's house to see if maybe the crowd had died down a little.
Jake had hung strings of orange lights between the house and barn, suspended by poles stuck in large old-fashioned flower pots. The nearly-full moon created even more illumination, and it looked like the crowd had grown, not shrunk.
She ducked into the shadows again, pressing her back against the clapboard wall. Maybe she could sneak around the front of the house and hide inside. No, Lily would be heartbroken. Even with the distraction of having Stevie home for the week, her daughter was like a little moon, orbiting Courtney. Lily would notice if she ditched the party.
And Courtney had vowed she wasn't going to let her daughter down again.
She had to go back out there. And pretend that all the curious—and judgmental—glances didn't hurt. She would smile until her cheek muscles ached. And eat cupcakes or candy or whatever Lily wanted her to.
She was going.
In sixty seconds.
She pushed off the wall, braced one hand on the corner of the house, and prepared to step into the light.
A hulking figure approached, and she instinctively backed farther into the darkness. Backlit the way the person was, she couldn't see anything other than the flowing black shirt and black mask that covered the man's head and half his face.
She shrunk even farther back, wondering frantically whether he'd seen her.
And then the costume registered.
Zorro.
It was only a party guest, dressed as Zorro. Not an assailant.
Not someone who wanted to hurt her.
She realized the truth, but her body was slower to catch on. Her breath came in gasps, and blood pounded in her temples, muting the noise from the party just beyond.
"You okay, Princess?"
She didn't recognize his voice, and with the mask covering half his face, she couldn't identify him. His shoulders were broad enough to block the light filtering around the corner, but his relaxed stance and the friendly distance he kept between them made her believe he didn't have malicious intentions.
She got herself under control enough to answer his question. "Yes, I'm fine." It was the same answer she gave Jake every time he asked. She gave this stranger the same smile she always gave Jake, too, but for some reason, the glittering eyes behind the mask seemed to question her pat answer.
He half turned, looking back at the noise of the party, and then turned to her. "It's loud. Kinda overwhelming. You sure you're okay?"
It was beyond her to dredge up the I'm fine smile all over again. She found her mouth trembling and her eyes smarting with moisture.
Three months of pretending, and Jake hadn't seen through her yet. How had this stranger figured her out?
Voices from the party got closer, as if someone—make that at least two someones—were edging toward Courtney's hiding place. She pressed her lips together and gave a huge sniff, trying to stem the flow of emotion.
Zorro stepped closer, and his big, warm hand closed on her elbow. The point of connection, the fact that he'd stepped closer instead of away, compounded the storm, and more tears burned in her eyes. So she did what she'd done for the last six years and defended herself with sharp words.
"Are you sure you want to be seen with me, if someone comes around that corner?" Except her words didn't emerge as sharp as she'd intended. In fact, her voice wobbled suspiciously there at the end.
Beneath the mask, his lips thinned, and she had the idea that her words made him angry. "I'm sure," he said firmly.
He edged toward her, close enough that if he reached for her with his other hand, they'd be embracing.
Now her pulse roared for a different reason entirely. Was he... He was looking down at her as if he wanted to kiss her or something.
Was he confused about her identity? Mistaking her for someone else?
She opened her mouth to tell him just who she was, but his hand came up and cupped her jaw, momentarily rendering her mute.
She hadn't been touched with this amount of tenderness since before Lily's dad had died.
"Do you know what I thought when I saw you tonight?" He didn't wait for her answer. "Captivating."
Now she was convinced he didn't recognize her. She, Courtney Sutton, was in no way captivating, even with the gown and mask.
But before she could set him straight, his head bent toward her, and for one kaleidoscope moment, she relished his touch, the anticipation, the feeling of being wanted by someone.
His lips brushed hers softly and with a reverence she hadn't expected. The feeling threw her out of the romance of the moment.
She'd stolen someone else's kiss.
She broke away from his embrace and ran.
2
November
County sheriff Eric Swanson didn't usually regret arresting criminals.
But there was one particular arrest that had itched like a burr under his saddle for six years.
Courtney Sutton.
He'd been a fresh-faced Sergean
t from a big city beat, full of fire, newly hired as county sheriff. He'd heard whispers of someone selling prescription pain pills and set up a sting, sure he was doing the right thing.
But Courtney hadn't been like the crooks he'd taken down working in Oklahoma City. They were often either strung-out or silent and scornful.
Courtney was neither.
When he'd clasped the cuffs on her, he'd gotten a view of the side of her face and seen the sheer panic and desolation in her eyes.
Add to that, in the past six years, he'd found out the hard way that the system wasn't always right.
He'd been trying to accidentally bump into her around town since Halloween, but the only glimpse he'd gotten had been at a distance from the school pickup line when he'd collected his nieces Bea and Piper for his brother. He should get James to let him do that more often.
Maybe he shouldn't have kissed her. But at that boisterous party, when he'd seen her slip out of sight and then gotten close enough to see the tears in her eyes—he hadn't been able to help himself.
No wonder she was skittish now. He'd come on too strong. Scared her. They'd barely even spoken, after all.
Now, after ten o'clock on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, he was supposed to be off for the night, but instead he was on his way home after responding to a late call about a car break-in.
He was worn slick and tired of the stale-coffee smell emanating from inside his truck. It was too cold outside to leave the windows down for fresh air.
He turned onto Main Street, where only the pharmacy was lit up and open. The rest of the storefronts were dark. Two minutes until home, where he could peel off his uniform, put on some sweats, and veg out in front of the TV.
Except he glanced in the rearview as he passed the pharmacy. A familiar figure darted across the street and inside, visible in his taillights.
Courtney.
Without giving himself time to think, he pulled his department-issued SUV into one of the spaces across the street and got out. Hadn't he learned that you had to grab hold of every chance while you still had time?
He stepped inside. In contrast to the star-lit darkness outside, the bright fluorescent overhead lights made him squint. He paused with his feet on the black rubber rug until he spotted her blonde hair two aisles over.
He didn't hesitate, didn't pretend he had any other mission than to talk to her. He followed her.
She was carrying an armful of little girl. He knew Lily was in Bea's first-grade class, so that made her...six? Too big to be toted around like that.
As he approached, he saw the little girl's flushed cheeks and glassy eyes as she seemed to stare at nothing.
"Do you know...?" Courtney had half-turned as she was speaking, but her words trailed off when she caught sight of him. Her gaze flicked over his uniform, then quickly cut down, as if she wanted him to walk past without noticing her.
He'd counted on his job being a black mark against him, but he was determined not to let it derail him. It was a long time since he'd been attracted to anyone the way he was to her. He wasn't getting any younger.
And he wanted to make things right between them. If he even could.
"Is she sick?" He nodded to Lily bundled in her arms, even though the answer was obvious.
Courtney hesitated. Answered while grabbing a box of children's medication and glancing at the back.
"She's got a fever of a hundred and three," she said to the box, her words running together. "And I hadn't realized we were out out of medicine."
She put the box back on the shelf and picked up the one next to it, turning it to see the back. Then she put it back too. The clench of her jaw might mean she was frustrated. Or that her daughter was heavy.
"My brother always buys the name brand," he offered.
"Thanks," she murmured.
She didn't look at him again.
* * *
Courtney tried desperately to ignore the uniformed sheriff. She blinked away memories of being shoved and strip-searched by prison guards. Sweat popped out on her forehead.
This wasn't prison.
She'd done her time.
She wasn't doing anything wrong.
In a minute, he'd move on.
But he didn't.
"I'm Eric," he said.
She glanced in his direction—not at his face—to see his hand outstretched, as if he were waiting for a handshake. With one arm full of her daughter's dead weight and a box of pain reliever in her other hand, she had no appendages left to satisfy him.
And anyway, what was his deal?
She didn't say her name. He knew it, considering he'd arrested her almost six years ago.
She tried to push down the ball of anxiety rising in her chest. She couldn't deal with him right now. Lily was sick, and she hadn't even noticed until her teacher had mentioned Lily's listlessness after school. Courtney had spent the evening trying to get Lily's fever down.
And panicking, because she didn't know what to do.
Jake had the week off from his professorship because of the Thanksgiving holiday, and she'd pushed him to fly out to Nashville to be with Stevie. It'd been four months since Courtney's release, and Jake had been hovering.
Which meant today she was alone with a sick little girl.
And wishing Jake was here to hover. She really didn't want to call him, and a call to the doctor's office had sent her to an on-call physician who just told her to use a fever reliever and a cool rag.
She could still feel the sheriff's stare. Was he waiting for her to choose a medicine or watching her to make sure she wasn't stocking up on meds to sell?
Her cheeks flamed worse.
She hated her past and how it weighted her down. Didn't she deserve a fresh start? A new future for herself and Lily?
Lily shifted against her shoulder, and air rushed into the space between her sweaty little body and Courtney's skin, causing a rippling shiver. Poor child was burning up.
Courtney had to make a decision. Her eyes had unfocused as she'd tried to read the tiny print on the back of the medicine box, and the bright fluorescent lights were giving her a headache. Stress made it worse.
Her stupidity was endangering her daughter.
She grabbed the nearest box—the name brand one—and moved to the register.
The gray-haired man in a white jacket behind the tall counter took one look at her and said, "I'm not selling that to you."
A cowboy just a few years older than she was browsing an endcap not far away and looked up at the pharmacist's harsh words.
Her face burned again. She wanted nothing more than to get out of there, to run away. But Lily needed her.
The pharmacist wouldn't sell her children's fever reliever? A single bottle?
Her mind whirled. Weatherford was forty-five minutes away, which meant almost an hour of driving dark highways until she could get Lily some relief.
"Herb. Problem?"
And of course the sheriff was still behind her.
She refused to look back at him but felt the warmth of his presence close behind her.
"Eric, I can't sell this to her. What's she gonna do with it?"
Eric. She'd let his name pass by moments ago, anxiety clouding her brain. His name was Eric. Like the prince in the mermaid movie Lily had watched repeatedly the last several weeks. Courtney focused on the absurd idea of the sheriff as a prince, because otherwise she would feel how her insides had been sliced open by the pharmacist's accusation.
"Looks like she's going to give it to this little person right here," the sheriff said. His voice was so calm and casual, a stark contrast to her quaking insides.
The pharmacist's expression didn't change. He shook his head.
Eric touched her. The palm of his hand rested against the small of her back, but it was so unexpected that she jumped.
He shifted her neatly out of the way. "If you can't sell it to her, why don't you sell it to me?"
The pharmacist hesitated, shooting an unread
able glance at her. Finally, he nodded. Eric dug in his back pocket for his wallet.
She hated this.
She didn't want to owe him anything.
And what did he expect from her in return?
The worst part of it was, she had no choice. She would allow his charity, for Lily's sake.
The transaction only took a few moments, and then Eric followed her out to Jake's sedan. In order to get her driver's license after six years in prison, she'd had to retake the written driver's exam. She'd nearly failed it. But she was legal—at least he couldn't ticket her for that.
The street was nearly deserted. His SUV, emblazoned with SHERIFF down the side, was parked two spots from Jake's sedan. Lights from overhead posts threw long shadows.
The sheriff beat her to it when she reached for the rear door handle. She bit her lip, wanting desperately to tell him to get lost and leave her in peace.
But he still held Lily's medicine in the plastic bag.
Lily moaned when Courtney set her in the booster seat. She'd been vacillating between awake and dozing off since about seven-thirty. Now her eyes opened, but they were glassy.
"My head hurts," she said.
"Why not give her a dose now," Eric offered quietly, "instead of waiting until you get home?"
Her lips pinched as she turned toward him. She had already thought of that. Not that anybody would believe her if she said it out loud, lousy parent that she was.
He handed her the bag, and their fingers brushed. It would have been impossible to ignore the sparks that surged up her arm. Especially in contrast to the cold seeping in through her open jacket.
She wanted to laugh at the strangeness of it. Had she been locked up so long that she was attracted to any man?
Some part of her knew it wasn't true. She'd felt nothing, no spark for the cowboy inside. Just the sheriff, and Zorro, who'd disappeared into oblivion.
Other than the stranger who'd kissed her in those stolen few moments, and her brother, the sheriff was the only man to touch her with any kind of tenderness in years.
She ignored him, unable to face her roiling emotions. Lily. She needed to focus on Lily.
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