The Lawman's Noelle. Stella Bagwell

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      “Barnes. Noelle Barnes.”

      “Miss? Mrs.?”

      She tried not to bristle at the question. It wasn’t really any of his business whether she was married or single. But maybe he was thinking she had a husband back at the house who could help. Only Noelle didn’t have a husband. She didn’t even have a cell phone.

      “Ms.,” she answered curtly.

      He extended his hand to her. “Well, thank you very much, Ms. Barnes. If not for you, I might still be on the cold ground.”

      Even with the leather acting as a barrier between their skin, the feel of his strong hand wrapping around hers was very unsettling. Her reaction had nothing to do with him being a detective for the sheriff’s office.

      She looked away to a spot at the far end of the gulch. “No need for thanks. Do you think you’re up for a short ride? My house is only a couple of miles from here. Where did you leave your truck and trailer?”

      “Farther than that. It’s parked just off a county road a few miles north of here.”

      She eased her hand from his. “Then you’d better come with me and rest before you head on home.”

      “My vision is still a little blurred, but my head is clearing. I think I can ride back to my truck all right.” He pulled a cell phone from a leather holder on his belt and squinted at the flat screen, then muttered something under his breath. “I’m having trouble focusing, but it looks to me like I’m not receiving a signal of any kind. This thing is useless out here.”

      “Which is why I never bother with one,” she replied.

      He jammed the phone back into the holder. “Okay, I’ll forget that plan. If you’d be kind enough to call the sheriff’s office when you get home, just let them know I’m okay and will be getting back late.”

      In spite of being uncomfortable in this man’s presence, she shook her head. He hardly looked well enough to ride to his truck. It was going to be difficult for him even to get to her house.

      “Forget it,” she said flatly. “I’d be stupider than you are if I let you ride off in the condition you’re in.”

      “Look, Ms. Barnes, I—”

      “Call me Noelle. And right now you’re in no shape to argue. If necessary, I figure I could manhandle you.” She pulled his horse forward and slipped the reins over the animal’s neck. “See if you can mount up. We’re going to my place.”

      Apparently deciding he might be smart to take her advice, he took a step toward the horse and immediately swayed. Noelle grabbed his arm to prevent him from collapsing. With his chin resting on his chest, he pulled in several long breaths.

      “I think you might be right,” he said in a strained voice. “I don’t feel so great.”

      Fearing he was going to pass out, she slipped an arm around his waist and held him tightly. “Do you need to sit down? There’s no hurry. We can try this in a few minutes.”

      “No. Just let me get my foot in the stirrup and then give me a shove up.”

      If nothing else, he was determined, Noelle thought. She twisted the stirrup around to give him easier access. “I hope your paint doesn’t decide to move. He might end up dragging you into the next county.”

      “If he does, I’ll come back to haunt my brother Finn,” he muttered.

      To her relief, he managed to get his foot in the stirrup. With one hand against his back and the other on his butt, she pushed until he plopped into the saddle with a heavy thud.

      Hurrying around to the right side of the horse, she fixed his other boot into the stirrup, then handed him the reins. By now he was half slumped over the saddle horn, his face the color of putty.

      “Are you going to fall off?” she asked with concern.

      He responded with a dismissive wave. “Get your horse. I’ll make it.”

      There was nothing more she could do now, Noelle decided as she hurried over to Driller. Except pray that he could hang on long enough to reach the warmth and safety of her house.

      Once in the saddle, she turned Driller down the draw. The paint obediently fell into step behind her. Thank God the horse wasn’t behaving like a wild bronco. Now she had to find an easier trail for them to climb the steep bank of the gulch. Otherwise, the lawman might tumble off his horse again. She seriously doubted his head could survive another impact.

      Unfortunately, as the draw narrowed, the steepness of the bank increased. A hundred yards from where they’d started, she pulled Driller to a stop to look back at the lawman. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she would’ve been inclined to smile at the cockeyed angle of his hat and the dazed look on his face. But a head injury could be deadly. She wanted to get him out of the cold and to medical help as quickly as she could.

      “Looks like we’d better climb the cut bank here before the trail gets any steeper,” she told him. “And hang on. I don’t want to have to pick you up off the ground and throw you over the saddle.”

      “Yes, ma’am. Just lead on.”

      The climb made three switchbacks through a patch of scrubby juniper and creosote bushes. Throughout the ascent, Noelle kept glancing behind her, expecting at any moment to see him listing precariously from one side of the horse to the other. But thankfully, he managed to keep his seat until they reached the top. She sighed with relief.

      From this point on, the trail wasn’t nearly as challenging. Barring an incident with his horse, they’d be at her place in a half hour. And then what was she going to do with him?

      * * *

      As the horses clopped along at a steady walk, Evan focused on Noelle Barnes’s back. Although his vision wasn’t completely clear yet, he could see she was bundled in heavy clothing. A worn, brown ranch coat topped her faded jeans, while a red woolen muffler was looped several times around her neck. The old gray felt hat on her head sported a ring of sweat stains around the band. The flattened brim was covered with dust. Long, dark hair fell about her shoulders, and each step of the horse caused it to swish against her back.

      What was she doing out here on this cold December day? he wondered. She’d said this was her property. Even so, it was hardly the type of weather in which to take a leisurely ride. She wore long shank spurs on her boots, something a novice rider would never do, and she handled her mount as though being atop a horse was as familiar as walking across the kitchen floor.

      One thing was for sure. She wasn’t the soft, delicate sort or anything close to the type of woman he occasionally dated. While he’d been sitting on the ground trying to get his bearings, he’d noticed she was rather tall, with some weight on her bones. Her figure was shapely enough to fill a man’s head with all sorts of pleasurable thoughts. But it had been her face that caught his complete attention.

      The cold wind had whipped a rosy color into her cheeks and turned her wide lips a pale pink. Large chocolate-brown eyes had studied him with unashamed candor, and it had become apparent to Evan that she was a woman who followed her own rules.

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