Josh
Return to Silver Creek with the scorching story of a Texas lawman who'll risk everything to save his ex-love–and his unborn child… FBI agent turned Texas deputy Josh Ryland is stunned to find pregnant hostages on a routine check for suspicious activity at a remote ranch. Even more shocking is the identity of one of the captives. Five months ago, Josh and FBI special agent Jaycee Finney shared a weekend of passion that ended badly. Now she's in danger–and claims he's her baby's father.Jaycee owes Josh the truth. After her unwitting reckless behavior almost got him killed, the cowboy cop has good reason not to trust her. But with the ruthless mastermind of a black market baby ring gunning for her, it's Jaycee who has to trust Josh with her life…and the life of their child.
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âAny sign of the men or the hostages?â
âNone.â Josh put down his hands but didnât move off the bed. He stayed right there looming over her.
And he was naked.
Jaycee did a double take.
Okay, not naked. Just shirtless.
She had a good view of not just those toned abs and pecs but also the scar. It was several inches long and gashed across his otherwise perfect body. Even though it was well healed, she figured the ashy white line would never go away.
The memory of it certainly wouldnât.
Imagine a family tree that includes Texas cowboys, Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, a Louisiana pirate and a Scottish rebel who battled side by side with William Wallace. With ancestors like that, itâs easy to understand why USA TODAY bestselling author and former air force captain DELORES FOSSEN feels as if she were genetically predisposed to writing romances. Along the way to fulfilling her DNA destiny, Delores married an air force top gun who just happens to be of Viking descent. With all those romantic bases covered, she doesnât have to look too far for inspiration.
Contents
Chapter One
This was exactly the kind of homecoming that Deputy Josh Ryland had wanted to avoid.
Just the sight of the guy with the gun caused his head to start pounding, and his heartbeat crashed in his ears. The flashbacks came.
Man, did they.
Flashbacks of another surveillance, another gunman. And the three .38 jacketed slugs that the gunman had fired into Joshâs chest. The wounds had healed, for the most part anyway, but still the flashbacks came.
âYou okay?â his cousin whispered.
His cousin was Grayson Ryland, sheriff of Silver Creek, Joshâs hometown where heâd been born and had spent his childhood. Not a town where Josh had expected to see a man carrying an assault rifle. It wasnât exactly a standard weapon for a Texas cattle rancher.
âIâm fine,â Josh lied. And he tried to level his breathing. Tried also to ignore the healing gunshot wounds on his chest that had started to throb like a bad toothache.
âI can call one of the other deputies to come out here,â Grayson offered.
There was no shortage of them. Like Grayson, four of the deputies were Joshâs cousins, too. And if Grayson had thought for one second that he would encounter a rifle-toting man on what should have been a routine call, then he would have almost certainly brought one of the others and not Josh.
âYou made me a deputy,â Josh reminded him. âThis is part of the job.â
That sounded good. Like something a small-town deputy should say to his boss.
It was pretty much a lie, though.
The truth was, Josh had come back home after taking a leave of absence from the FBI so he could avoid gunmen. Assault rifles. Bullets to the chest. And the tangle of bloody memories that he fought hard to keep out of his head.
So much for that plan.
Using the binoculars, Josh watched the rifleman pace across the front porch of the two-story ranch house. He was clearly standing guard.
But why?
Too bad Josh could think of several reasons why a rancher would need a guard with an assault rifle, and none of those reasons involved anything legal.
Josh handed Grayson the binoculars so he, too, could have a look. âYou think theyâre hiding drugs in the house?â Grayson asked.
âDrugs or guns, maybe.â
Whichever it was, it had created a lot of traffic, because there were plenty of tire tracks on the gravel driveway in front of the ranch house.
It was that unusual traffic that had prompted someone to make an anonymous call to the sheriffâs office to report possible suspicious activity at the ranch. It didnât help that no one knew the tenants. The place had recently been rented by a couple from nearby San Antonio whoâd yet to turn up in town.
Josh could see the source of some of that traffic. There were four vehiclesâtwo trucks, an SUV and a car, all parked around the grounds. No tractors, no livestock or any signs of any ranching equipment.
That didnât help the knot in Joshâs stomach.
âThe gunmanâs not the new tenant of the place,â Grayson explained.
No. Josh had glanced at the coupleâs driverâs license photos in the background info that heâd pulled up on them before Grayson and he had even started the half-hour drive from Silver Creek out to the Bluebonnet Ranch. A peaceful-sounding name for a place that was probably hiding some very unpeaceful secrets.
And speaking of hiding, the front door of the ranch house flew open, and Josh didnât need the binoculars to see another armed man step into the doorway.
Yeah, this was definitely a bad homecoming.
Grayson and he stayed belly down on the side of the hill dotted with spring wildflowers that overlooked the ranch, and Grayson returned the binoculars to Josh so he could take out his phone and call for backup. Unfortunately, they were going to need it.
