Her Lone Protector

Los Angeles, 1898 Creed Sherman could take care of himself in most any situation he found himself in. Six years of protecting his country on foreign soil had forced him to adapt and survive. Before that, West Point Military Academy taught him discipline and strategy. He was a soldier. He thrived on risk and danger. Put him in a steaming, mosquito-thick jungle, he'd find his way out by sheer guts and determination. Put him at the front of enemy lines, he'd fight savagely to the death. Put a lethal weapon in his hand, and he'd know how to use it. Put him in a women's dress shop, and he was seriously out of his element. Panicky, even. Hell. He stood just inside the doorway of Collette's Fine Ladies Wear and frowned at the profusion of dresses in colors too numerous to comprehend. Hats in all shapes and sizes perched on glass counter tops. And he didn't even attempt to look inside the cases at the female fripperies they contained. His head spun. He'd never been in a woman's establishment like this in his entire life. He was just off the train from San Antonio and headed home to his father's ranch not far outside the city limits. He wanted to buy his childhood sweetheart, Mary Catherine, a gift to celebrate his homecoming. He was going to marry her, if she'd still have him. He had to have just the right gift for her--something extravagant and feminine. He ventured beyond the door. A mannequin draped in a gown of deep blue velvet snagged his attention. A pretty blue, he conceded. Might match Mary Catherine's eyes. Or were her eyes green? He frowned again. It'd been a while since he'd seen her. Not since his West Point days when she'd headed east with his father to visit him, but damned if Creed knew what color her eyes were even then. She had fair skin. That much he remembered. With hair like glistening gold. She wasn't very big, either. Barely reached his shoulder. Might be she'd grown some, though. Sometimes, it was hard to remember just what she looked like. Six years was a long time. Last he saw her, she'd been young and naive but sweet as sugar with lips full and soft and quick to smile. She was a woman now. Mature. She'd have curves in all the female places. Probably lost her shyness, too. Wear her hair and clothes different. A sudden eagerness to see her again swelled through him. He could hardly form a picture of her in his mind, but the letter in his pocket proved she was real and that she was in love with him. She told him so, over and over again, in words more eloquent than he could ever write to her in return. One hell of a letter-writer, his Mary Catherine. A devoted one, too. Made a man feel good from all the nice things she always said about him. Creed groped inside his shirt pocket and withdrew the last letter he'd received. Seeing her neat penmanship brought her alive, vanquished the years they'd been apart. He'd be with her soon. Within hours. "My, but you look lost in here," a soft voice said, amused. Fabric rustled behind him, and Creed turned. A dress the likes he'd never seen before drew closer, the woman inside it tall and confident. And beautiful. His glance lingered. Years in war-torn countries kept him from seeing the ways a woman could pamper herself like this one did. A corner of his mouth lifted. "Is it that obvious?" "It is." A puff of perfume reached him. "I'm Collette. Is there something I can help you with?" "I need a gift for my fiancÉe." Might be he was stretching the truth calling Mary Catherine that. He hadn't yet asked her to marry him, but he was confident enough she would that he took the liberty. "FiancÉe?" Delicately painted lips curved downward. Collette's long-lashed gaze drifted over him, slow and leisurely, clear to his boots and back up again. Creed regretted not stopping for a haircut and shave after gettiCrooks, Pam is the author of 'Her Lone Protector ', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373294299 and ISBN 0373294298.