Struck By The Texas Matchmakers. Judy Christenberry

>

      

      “Hi, honey, I’m home.”

      Jeff laughed as he said those words, somehow believing Diane would understand his little joke as he walked inside the kitchen.

      That belief disappeared when a loaf of bread flew through the air and plopped against his face—courtesy of Diane.

      “Do you know what everyone in town is saying? They think we’re sleeping together. They think I’m trying to catch you. Everyone in the grocery store thinks I’m a kept woman!”

      Which explained her reaction to his teasing. “Ah. I guess my words weren’t too funny, huh?”

      “Oh, you were hysterical,” she replied, slight tears in her eyes. “Aren’t you worried about what everyone thinks is going on here?”

      “No. I mean, we’re both adults, single. If people want to believe we’re—” He broke off, unable to even talk about sleeping with Diane without reacting to the thought.

      “Pretty soon they’ll be expecting wedding bells!” Diane exclaimed with a groan.

      Jeff felt a groan coming on himself. Because the thought of Diane and him and wedding bells wasn’t creating the same reaction at all….

      Struck by the Texas Matchmakers

      Judy Christenberry

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Judy Christenberry has been writing romances for fifteen years because she loves happy endings as much as her readers. A former French teacher, Judy now devotes herself to writing full-time. She hopes readers have as much fun reading her stories as she does writing them. She spends her spare time reading, watching her favorite sports teams and keeping track of her two daughters. Judy’s a native Texan, but now lives in Arizona.

      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

      Epilogue

      Chapter One

      She’d hoped this day would never come.

      Diane Peters shook herself, determined not to think in those terms. After all, most people would consider her to be a lucky woman.

      Fresh out of law school, she’d just been offered a position with the most prestigious law firm in the area.

      The area of Cactus, Texas.

      It wasn’t that she didn’t like Cactus. It was her hometown, and she had a lot of good memories from her childhood. Her family had never been wealthy, but they’d been happy. She and her five brothers and sisters had shared adventures and laughter.

      When she was thirteen, however, her father had died suddenly. Her mother had been a great cook and housekeeper, a devoted wife and mother. But she was a disaster as a breadwinner.

      Diane sighed as she slowed down for the curve in the narrow road that led to her childhood home. Suddenly she threw on her brakes. A car rested half in the ditch, half on the road, the driver side crushed.

      Diane frowned. The car hadn’t been there when she’d driven by an hour ago. As she slowed to a stop, a small face appeared at the back window.

      A child? Someone was in the car? She slammed her old Volkswagen sedan into Neutral, pulled up the handbrake and jumped out of the car. Then she ran for the other vehicle.

      “Are you all right?” she cried before she even got to the car.

      The toddler, whose face she’d seen from the road, pressed her face against the glass, smearing it with big, fat tears.

      Diane wanted to cuddle the baby to her, but she saw the other two occupants. The fact that the driver and the little boy in the back seat weren’t moving made them her first priority.

      Without opening the car door, she called, “Just a minute, baby,” before she turned around and ran back to her car to find the cell phone her sister Katie and her husband, Gabe, had given her. Thank God.

      She dialed Doc’s number, grateful she still remembered it.

      “Doctor’s office.”

      “This is Diane Peters. There’s been a wreck on FM 29. A lady and two children are hurt. I don’t know what to do. Can Doc come?”

      “We’ll get help to you. Have you called the sheriff’s office?”

      “No, I—”

      “We’ll call for you. Help should be there soon.”

      The click in her ear reminded Diane to move. She tossed the cell phone into her front seat and rushed back to the car. The driver door wouldn’t open. The back door, though slightly damaged, did open partially after she tugged on it for several minutes.

      The toddler grabbed for her.

      Diane’s first inclination was to hold the baby, but she left her buckled in the car seat to see if she could help the others. The lady driver was unconscious. She’d bled quite a lot, but the bleeding appeared to have stopped. Diane felt helpless. She could quote laws, but she knew nothing about serious injuries.

      She turned her attention to the little boy. Reaching across the child seat, she touched his denim-clad leg. “Are you awake?” she asked.

      He stirred but the only response was a moan. She didn’t see any blood, however, so she didn’t know anything else to do. She’d read that moving an injured person could cause more problems. Since it was summer in Cactus, she didn’t even have a jacket she could use to help prevent shock.

      “Mama, Mama!” the little girl cried, trying to cling to Diane.

      She managed to release the clasp holding the child in place and lifted the little girl into her arms. “There, sweetie, it’s going to be all right.”

      She hoped she was telling the truth, but she prayed Doc would get there soon. The older gentleman was such a comfort, always seeming to know what to do.

      As she cuddled the little girl against her, she heard the sound of a car speeding toward them. “Please let that be Doc,” she prayed, moving to the edge of the road.

      She was disappointed when it came into view. Doc drove an old red pickup. This vehicle was a navy blue Suburban. Cactus was too small to be able to afford paramedics and all the emergency equipment of big cities. But maybe the driver would stop anyway. She waved and relief flooded her when he braked to a stop. At least she wouldn’t be alone anymore.

      “Is she hurt?” the man asked briskly almost before he was out of the car.

      “Not badly, I think. Not like the other two,” she said. “The doctor is on the way, but—”

      “I’m the doctor,” he snapped, not slowing as he hurried to the car.

      Diane