How To Steal The Lawman's Heart

Forgiveness Starts With A Stolen Kiss

Chief of police Trent Knight had it all until an accident took his wife and he was left alone to raise two beautiful girls. Now the person he always blamed for his loss is back in town, and all bets are off. But soon his anger toward Carmen Shields gives way to a very different emotion—awareness of Carmen as a woman. On one hand, it feels like a betrayal of his late wife’s memory. On the other, it could be his second chance at life—and Carmen’s shot at redemption. Maybe she can go home again—with the help of a certain lawman...

The sound of laughter followed by the slam of a car door jolted him, bringing him back to his surroundings.

He was on his front porch, making out like a horny teenager. He eased back, reluctantly ending the kiss, then leaned his forehead against hers.

“Wow,” Carmen breathed, her voice soft and slightly shocked. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Should I apologize?”

“Only for stopping.”

“Nobody is sorrier for that than I am. But the chief of police shouldn’t be caught making out in public.”

She kissed him briefly before backing away. “It kind of kills the hard-nosed reputation, huh?”

“It doesn’t help.”

She leaned over and put on her shoes. He hadn’t been aware she’d removed them. What else had escaped his attention while he let his desire get the best of him? “We need to talk.”

“Not necessary.” She brushed a slender finger over his wedding band. “I understand.”

* * *

Sweet Briar Sweethearts: There’s something about Sweet Briar...

How to Steal the Lawman’s Heart

Kathy Douglass

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATHY DOUGLASS came by her love of reading naturally–both of her parents were readers. She would finish one book and pick up another. Then she attended law school and traded romances for legal opinions.

After the birth of her two children, her love of reading turned into a love of writing. Kathy now spends her days writing the small-town contemporary novels she enjoys reading.

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This book is dedicated with love to my own three heroes: my husband and two sons. Thank you for loving and supporting me while I worked toward achieving my dream. I could not have done this without you.

This book is also dedicated to my family of origin: my parents, who always believed in me, and my siblings, who were my first friends.

Thanks to my critique partner, Lauren Canan, for your constant encouragement and for lifting me whenever I was down. You are the best.

Thanks to New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Brenda Novak for giving aspiring authors the opportunity to get their work to editors and agents in her auction to find a cure for diabetes. You are an example of all that is right in the romance writer community.

Thanks to my editor, Charles Griemsman, who worked tirelessly to make this book the best it could be. I appreciate all that you do.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Carmen Shields spotted the flashing lights in her rearview mirror and groaned. The worst day of her life was about to get even worse.

“I hope all the papers are in order,” she mumbled, pulling the rental car to the side of the road. She’d been in too much of a hurry when her plane landed in Charlotte forty-five minutes late to do more than toss her hastily packed suitcase into the trunk of the car and drive out of the parking lot at the airport terminal.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She’d wept nonstop since yesterday, when she’d read about her mother’s death in the Sweet Briar Herald. Although she lived in New York, she had a subscription to her hometown newspaper, the lone link to her past. Her heart ached as she recounted the number of times she’d picked up the phone, only to hang up without dialing. She’d let her fear of rejection win. And now it was too late.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks, then rummaged through her purse, quickly grabbing her driver’s license and proof of insurance.

Carmen glanced out the side mirror at the brown-skinned man with close-cropped black hair as he climbed out of the squad car. He looked at her license plate, then spoke into a radio attached to the shoulder of his shirt. Tall and muscular, he projected an air of confidence.

“What’s taking so long?” she wondered aloud. If he didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t be able to sneak into the church and grab a seat in the back pew. Her stomach clenched at the thought of being spotted by her father. He’d made it clear when he’d thrown her out of the house seven years ago that he no longer considered her his daughter. She’d gotten into too much trouble and had embarrassed him one too many times. The accident had been the last straw. Although she doubted he would risk tarnishing his sterling reputation by personally kicking her out, he wouldn’t hesitate to have someone else escort her from the funeral. But she wouldn’t let him prevent her from saying goodbye this time.

She stifled the urge to lay on the horn, settling for peering out the mirror once more. The officer must have noticed her looking, because he raised a finger in the universal wait-a-minute sign as he grabbed a pen from his pocket and wrote something on a pad. Swallowing her frustration, she resigned herself to losing even more time. The last thing she wanted was to irritate the police. Her one and only run-in with the law when she was eighteen was more than enough to last her a lifetime.

“License, please.”

His stealth startled her and she jumped, tossing a quick look at him. She quickly passed the requested ID card out the window, then concentrated on slowing her breathing. Seeming guilty was never good.

“Sunglasses,” he added, taking the license into his large hand.

She blinked. “Sorry?”

“Please remove your sunglasses.”

She quickly complied, folding the glasses and placing them on the dashboard.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” the officer asked, studying her face. She looked back at him, but his rugged face, square jaw and dark eyes weren’t familiar. She didn’t expect him to recognize her, either. She didn’t look anything like she did when she left town seven years ago.

“No.” She looked away from his probing eyes to focus on his uniform, searching his broad chest for a name tag. Her heart stopped when she realized he wasn’t wearing an officer’s uniform. She’d been stopped by the chief of police. Of course, he wasn’t old, humorless, overweight Dale Muldoon, who’d been chief seven years ago. Thank goodness. He’d been firmly in her father’s pocket and wouldn’t make a move without clearing it with Charles Shields first. She just hoped this chief wasn’t in her father’s pocket, too.

* * *

Trenton Knight looked at the young woman. “Speeding. You were doing forty in a thirty-five-mile-per-hour zone. There’s a grade school two blocks from here. Plenty of children cross this road every day.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was going over the limit.”

“We take speeding very seriously.”

“Sorry,” she repeated.

Trent nodded. She sounded sincere, but a little bit distracted, as well. Something about her was definitely off. He looked at her more carefully. Young, with flawless golden-brown skin and high cheekbones, she was model beautiful. Her coffee-brown eyes were red-rimmed. Her full bottom lip trembled. He didn’t smell alcohol, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t impaired.

He tucked her license into his breast pocket and backed away from the door. “Step out of the car please, ma’am.”

Her eyes widened and she blinked. “What? Why? Can’t you please just give me the ticket and let me go?”

The desperation in her voice and the sudden panic in her eyes convinced Trent he needed to take a closer look at her. “Please step out of the vehicle.”

The woman sighed, opened the door and stepped out of the car. Standing ramrod straight, her small hands clutched in front of her, she stared at him as if awaiting further instructions. She was smaller than she’d appeared inside the vehicle, barely reaching his shoulder. She was dressed more conservatively than he’d expected, as well. The wind blew her shoulder-length hair into her eyes, and she pushed it behind her ear with a delicate hand.

She was wearing a black silk tank and a long black skirt that swirled around her ankles, nearly touching her shiny black sandals. He glanced inside the car. A black jacket was hanging on the hook behind the driver’s door.

He put the clues together easily. She wasn’t impaired. Her eyes were red from crying. Even now she was struggling to keep the tears in check. She was mourning the loss of a loved one. He knew that agony all too well. He still grieved his wife’s loss and always would.

She looked at him, her brown eyes wary. “Do you need anything else from me, Chief?”

“No.” Not now that he knew she was suffering.

“Then may I please go? I’m on my way to a funeral,” she said, confirming his conclusion. “If I don’t leave soon, it’ll be too late.” She turned her head slightly as if trying to hide the fact that she was crying. She slid a finger under her eye before turning back to him. “I promise to do the speed limit all the way. And I’ll pay my ticket before I leave town. I swear.”

Her slightly husky voice broke on the last word. Despite his hard-and-fast rule that every speeder got a ticket, he couldn’t give one to her. Not today, when she was so obviously heartbroken. Even he wasn’t that merciless.

“I’m not going to give you a ticket this time. Just a warning to slow down. Your family wouldn’t want the next funeral to be yours.”

“Thank you.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out her driver’s license, glancing at the name. His heart stopped.

Carmen Shields. Carmen Shields! The woman responsible for his wife’s death. She might not have been driving the night of the crash, but she’d been in the car and hadn’t kept her friend from driving drunk.

He looked at her outstretched hand and then back at her face. He was surprised he hadn’t recognized her. True, she looked nothing like the run-amok teenager whose face was forever emblazoned in his memory. That girl’s hair had usually been a tangle of waves and curls that hung to the middle of her back, not smooth as silk and barely brushing her slight shoulders. And she’d always worn large earrings, not tiny pearls. The polite, respectful woman standing in front of him was definitely different from the rude and belligerent teen she’d been. But still, because of this woman, he’d lost his precious Anna.

“Carmen Shields. I should have recognized you.”

The sympathy he’d felt a moment ago vanished, replaced by fury as the night of the accident came rushing back to him.

Anna had wanted chocolate ice cream for dessert. He’d promised to pick some up after work, but he’d gotten busy and forgotten. She’d kissed his cheek and hopped in the car for a quick trip to the store. An hour later he’d gotten the call. Now, as he stood here by the side of the road, his vision blurred and his stomach churned with guilt. If only he’d remembered that stupid ice cream, his beloved Anna would never have been on that road.

“You have me at a disadvantage, Chief. I don’t know who you are. When I lived here, Dale Muldoon was the chief.”

Trent fisted his hands. Dale had helped rush the inquest, something Trent would never forgive him for. That was the reason Trent had challenged him for the position of chief of police.

“Dale retired three years ago.”

“Okay.” She stood there, hand still outstretched, waiting for him to drop her license.

“My name is Trenton Knight.”

She didn’t so much as blink in recognition. The name meant nothing to her.

“Anna Knight was my wife.”

Still no response. There was no change at all in Carmen Shields’s expression. He might as well have been speaking Greek. Had she completely forgotten the identity of the woman killed in the accident? Did the loss of life matter so little to her that she couldn’t be bothered to remember Anna’s name?

“She was killed seven years ago when an SUV driven by an intoxicated teenager ran a stop sign and plowed into her car. You were a passenger in that car.”

Carmen gasped, and he watched with grim satisfaction as the blood drained from her face. She staggered and placed a hand against her vehicle. “The woman in the other car died?”

“Yes. And our two daughters lost their mother.”

“I—I didn’t know.” She shook her head as if processing the information. “I didn’t know her name. No one would tell me anything.”

How could she not know Anna’s name or that she died? True, when Carmen had skipped town immediately following the inquest for the two teens from her vehicle who’d died in the accident, Anna was still fighting to live. But that was seven years ago. How could it be in all that time no one in the entire Shields family had felt Anna’s death was worth mentioning to her?

Anger surged through him and he spoke through gritted teeth. “She clung to life for nineteen days, fighting to live. Trying to stay with her family, who loved her. But her body had been battered too badly and she wasn’t strong enough to survive her injuries. She died in my arms.”

Carmen reached out her hands. He stiffened and stepped back. He wouldn’t be responsible for his actions if she touched him.

She paused and then folded her hands as if in prayer. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry for everything. If I could go back and change things, I would.”

“Your apology changes nothing.” He had half a mind to prolong this traffic stop and make her late for the funeral he now knew was for her mother. But he didn’t. Anna would never have approved of such a vengeful act. She’d been full of love and forgiveness, even for people who didn’t deserve it. He wouldn’t dishonor her memory by giving in to his hatred.

He dropped the license into Carmen’s hand. “Don’t speed while you’re in my town.” He strode away, determined to get away from her and the memories she awakened. But it was too late. Seeing her had ripped open the wound in his heart that had never completely healed.

Chapter Two

Carmen stood apart from the dwindling group of mourners lingering beside her mother’s grave. She’d been close enough to hear the service, but far enough away to go unnoticed. Everything was over now. The preacher had prayed the last prayer and the final white rose had been placed upon the casket before it was lowered into the ground. One last neighbor hugged her sisters, patted her father on the shoulder and then left, leaving the sad trio alone.

A gentle breeze blew and a squirrel raced across the green grass. Carmen lifted her face to the clear blue sky. It was a perfectly beautiful day and it broke her heart that her mother wasn’t alive to enjoy it.

Rachel Shields had loved summertime, spending countless hours puttering in her garden. While their neighbors hired landscapers to design their flower beds and gardeners to maintain them, Carmen’s mother had done it all herself, despite her husband’s claim that such work was beneath the dignity of the Shields name. With flowers in every color imaginable in the numerous flower beds, the Shieldses’ gardens always outshone every yard in their neighborhood, if not the entire town. Rachel had claimed being surrounded by flowers made her happy. Now the only flowers around her were those dropped onto her casket. Soon they would be dead, too.

Carmen lowered her head and allowed the tears to fall. She’d lost so much precious time with her mother. Time she could never get back.

If only she could go back and change the events of that horrible night. She would have stayed away from those kids, would have gone to school and then straight home like she was supposed to. If she could have a do-over, she never would have started hanging out with that rowdy crowd in the first place.

But there was no magic eraser to remove the mistakes of her past. She could only move forward and make better decisions.

Swallowing more tears, Carmen eased closer to her family. Although she’d seen her father as he’d walked into the church between her two sisters, she was still shocked by the physical changes in him. The father she remembered had been tall and slightly overweight. Robust. He’d always been larger than life. Charles Shields had dominated every room he’d been in, throwing his weight around until he’d gotten his way. Now he looked like a strong wind could blow him over. Where he’d once been the man in charge, now he looked lost.

“Daddy,” Carmen said, her voice cracking. No one turned and she realized she’d whispered the word. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Daddy.”

Her father and sisters froze and then as one turned to stare at her. Charlotte, her oldest sister, looked at her with blank eyes, black mascara streaks on her face. Charmaine, the middle sister, gasped and blinked as if she’d seen a ghost.

Her father, however, looked at her for barely a second before turning and stalking to the limousine idling several yards away.

“Daddy, please,” she cried in anguish. “Please talk to me.” She grabbed the nearest headstone and leaned against it, her strength suddenly gone in the face of his total rejection. He hadn’t even hesitated. He’d simply looked at her—no, through her—and turned and walked away. Like she was a stranger.

Charmaine started toward Carmen, but Charlotte stopped her with a hand on her arm. Charlotte’s cold eyes drilled into Carmen, enlarging the hole in her soul. “This isn’t the time or the place. Daddy is grieving. He doesn’t need this drama now.”

“Drama? I don’t want to cause a scene or upset him. I just want to talk to him.” To have him wrap her in his arms the way he’d done when she’d fallen off her bike and scraped her knee so many years ago.

When she was a little girl, her daddy had been her hero. She’d worshipped him until she discovered his love was conditional. As long as she dressed the way he wanted and associated with the people he chose, his love was hers. When she’d rebelled and begun making her own choices, his love evaporated like dew in the sun. Still, a part of her always hoped he’d regret turning her away, and that once his anger cooled, he would welcome her back. But his anger and disappointment burned just as hotly now as they did seven years ago. He really had stopped loving her.

Charmaine pulled away from their older sister and came to stand before Carmen. Charmaine made no attempt to touch her, so she kept her own arms by her sides, despite how badly she needed a hug. “Carmen, please try to understand. Daddy’s hurting. He and Mama were married for thirty-five years. He’s still in shock over losing her so suddenly. Seeing you is another shock to him.”

“And I lost my mother,” Carmen added, hoping Charmaine could see how hurt and lost she felt. How alone.

“Isn’t that just like you?” Charlotte snarled. “After everything you put us through, you’re thinking only of yourself.”

“That’s not true,” Carmen protested, stepping closer to Charlotte. “I know you’re hurting as much as I am. I thought we could help each other through the grief.”

Charlotte drew herself up to her full height, and in that moment she so resembled their father in all her self-righteous glory that Carmen could only stare. “Really? You expect to just waltz back into town and act like you didn’t bring shame upon our family?”

Charlotte had always been a female version of their father, hard and unforgiving, with pride to spare. Despite that, they had been close when Carmen was a little girl. When she began getting into trouble and angering Charles, Charlotte had turned off her love as easily as she might have switched off a light.

Charles had demanded Carmen live up to his impossibly high standards of behavior. When she realized that nothing short of robotic obedience would satisfy him, she’d stopped trying. She’d started skipping school and running with a bunch of troublemakers. Although the phase hadn’t lasted long, it had a devastating effect on her life. Her father had been on the verge of launching a campaign for Congress when the accident occurred, quashing his dream. Apparently, he had yet to forgive her.

Carmen realized now the hope she harbored that her sisters would welcome her back was completely irrational. That was never going to happen. Charlotte needed Charles’s approval and would never defy him. Charmaine was too afraid to go against her sister and father. More mouse than woman, she was happiest when invisible. She might love Carmen and might even be glad to see her, but she’d never act on those feelings as long as Charles forbade it.

Carmen watched as her sisters joined their father in the limousine before it sped away. Once more she was alone, separated from a family that didn’t want her. Only this time, instead of being banished from her home by an angry father, she was left standing alone in a cemetery. The heartbreak, though, was no different.

Forcing her legs to stop wobbling, Carmen strode closer to her mother’s grave. Her family had placed white roses on the casket before it was lowered into the ground. There were still several roses left in a tall vase beside the grave, so she removed the most beautiful one. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled its sweet fragrance and then kissed it. She closed her eyes, prayed for strength she would need now more than ever and dropped the flower into the grave.

“Goodbye, Mama. I loved you even when you stopped loving me.”

Carmen stood there a moment longer, before finally turning and trudging to her rental car. She had just sat down when her cell phone vibrated. She reached for it gratefully, relieved that she had been saved from sinking into despair, or worse, self-pity.