Lone Star Courtship. Mae Nunn

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      Project code name: Befriend the Brit!

      She’d get to know him so well that she’d be poised to strike before he could derail her plans.

      Or worse, hurt her family.

      She used the house phone to ring Barrett’s suite.

      “It’s Casey. I didn’t want you going to bed hungry, so I brought fish and chips.” She dangled the bait.

      “A bit of fish sounds spot-on. I’ll be waiting at the door of the Laredo Suite to tip the porter. And, Casey, thank you for such a thoughtful gesture.”

      “No thanks required, Barrett. As we say at Hearth and Home, it’s my pleasure to serve you.”

      She picked up the sack of food and headed for the elevators.

      “And as they say in Texas, You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, pardner!”

      MAE NUNN

      grew up in Houston and graduated from the University of Texas with a degree in communications. When she fell for a transplanted Englishman who lived in Atlanta, she hung up her Texas spurs to become a Georgia Southern belle. Mae has been with a major air express company for over twenty-eight years, currently serving as a director of key accounts. When asked how she felt about being part of the Steeple Hill family, Mae summed her response up with one word, “Yeeeeeha!”

      Lone Star Courtship

      Mae Nunn

      Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed.

      —Proverbs 16:3

      Lone Star Courtship is for you, Michael.

      You are my best friend, the love of my life, the

       head of our home and the other half of my heart.

       Watching you grow as you walk daily with Jesus

       Christ is a treasure to behold and a blessing to

       witness. You make it all worthwhile, my darlin’.

      In loving memory of

       Frasier Thomas Nunn

       Our precious little buddy.

       We miss you.

      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

      Dear Reader

      Questions For Discussion

      Chapter One

      Casey Hardy was bored, a dangerous state for a self-proclaimed workaholic. Growing up the last of six children, there had always been a sibling to challenge her. Being the youngest executive in the family business, there had always been a battle for recognition. Being a female in the male-oriented home improvement industry had always forced her to be one up on all the men in her professional life in order to win their respect. And now that the challenges, battles and one-upping had paid off in the form of the job she’d had in her sights for as long as she could remember, she was bored stiff.

      Her brother had handed her a project positioned for success, and following his proven plan for the construction and opening of a home improvement supercenter was a no-brainer. It was also no fun. So, Casey had an additional goal in mind when she’d headed to Galveston, Texas. She’d take advantage of their U.K. potential investor’s upcoming review of the new store’s progress to prove her ability to manage an international partnership. Finally, the perfect vehicle to prove to her father once and for all that she had the stuff to be the CEO of Hearth and Home when he retired.

      She stood in the bed of an old truck, her palm raised to block the midday rays of Monday’s sun. Even with her thick curls caught up in a clip and a soft red bandana twisted around her forehead, sweat still prickled in her scalp and drizzled down her neck. She pulled off worn leather work gloves, stuffed them into the hip pocket of her dirty jeans and focused her attention on the arrival of a newcomer.

      “Who’s the suit talking with Cooper?” she asked her best friend who doubled as an assistant.

      Savannah glanced up from her clipboard and looked in the direction of the foreman.

      “Don’t know.” She squinted. “He seems familiar but I don’t think it’s from seeing him around here. Even as nearsighted as I am I can tell he’s hot stuff and I’d remember a looker like him.”

      The looker was expensively dressed in a dark jacket and slacks, overdone for the Gulf Coast humidity. He’d be overdone, literally, if he didn’t loosen the tie and shed that blazer. Either that or fold his tall frame back into the enormous Cadillac parked beside Cooper’s Wrangler.

      Casey leaned from the waist, placed a hand on the truck fender and hopped to the ground. Her steel-toed work boot slipped on the powdery shale, sending her sprawling to the seat of her pants.

      “And the boss lady executes another graceful dismount.” Savannah snickered, extended a hand and hauled Casey upright. “When are you gonna get a pair of sneakers with some tread on the bottoms?”

      “I’m not.” She brushed the dust from her jeans, grateful at least for the thick pair of gloves that had cushioned her landing. “I just need to get used to these heavy boots. Cooper says I should wear them for safety but I think it builds credibility with our crew.”

      “Oh, yeah, those clunkers leave no doubt that you’re a construction babe. Add an orange vest and you could infiltrate a highway chain gang.”

      “I’m going for safe and serious, not fashionable,” she defended her grubby but functional work attire.

      “Thanks for the news flash.” Savannah’s gaze swept Casey from top to toe. “I do have to admit it’s an interesting contrast to your usual uniform.” She referred to Casey’s closet full of dark suits.

      “Hey, I didn’t import you all the way from Iowa so you could insult me. That’s what my family is for.”

      “Just keeping you grounded in the facts like your sweet daddy suggested.”

      “I can arrange for you to be back in the corporate office conspiring with him in person, if you’d like.”

      “No thanks.” Savannah ignored the threat. “I’m not going home till I catch myself a Texas cowboy.” She rubbed her hands together, a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

      “I hate to disappoint you but my guess is you’re more likely to rope a surfer than a bull rider in Galveston.”

      “If he’s as hot as that guy over there with Cooper, he can ride a bike on a paper route and I won’t mind a bit.” She raised her eyebrows and pretended to hold a cigar, Groucho-style. “Especially if he wears one of those cute little Tour de France outfits.”

      “Savannah Jean, you are incorrigible.”

      “And you have way too much starch in your drawers, which is why we’ve always been good for each other.”

      She’s right, Casey admitted to herself. If she hadn’t kept