The Rancher's Mail-Order Bride Read online

  Instead of prying, he steered the conversation back to the town and her reasons for wanting to be here.

  “We’re a small town—I’ve lived here all my life and there’s definitely that sense of community you were speaking about, though it might not be like the picture you’ve painted. My closest neighbor is five miles down the road from me.”

  “That’ll actually be refreshing. At home, I can hear the neighbors flush their toilet.”

  “Surely not.” He was astonished.

  “With the windows open, yes. I’m tired of feeling as though I’m in the middle of a cement parking lot. I want atmosphere.”

  “You’ll definitely get that here.” Though not necessarily with him. He didn’t want it to be with him. He’d fallen in love once, and all that he’d held closest to his heart had been snatched away from him in a horrible instant. Much like that destiny thing Hannah had spoken of.

  The hurt was too fierce to ever allow himself to go through that kind of trauma again.

  Still, the woman had come a long way. She at least deserved a warm bed and a chance to relax, to regroup. He had a sprawling six-bedroom house with only himself to ramble around in since his folks had left.

  “If you’ll give me the keys, I’ll pull the truck around. We’ll pick up Ian and I’ll drive you back to the ranch.”

  “What about your truck?”

  “Someone will bring it out to me.”

  “Won’t that be an inconvenience? I mean won’t you need it?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve got others.”

  “Still, I can drive myself. Follow you.”

  He didn’t know why he felt so responsible and protective toward this woman, but he did. He shook his head. “The roads are dark and they aren’t marked. As long as you’re coming out to my place, I’d just as soon make certain you get there whole. And my mama taught me to be chivalrous to the ladies,” he added with a smile. She was studying him in a manner that made him squirm. Quietly. Thoroughly. Her thoughts carefully masked behind a stillness that made him long to cup her face between his hands and kiss the daylights out of her.

  And that thought scared the daylights out of him.

  She put a hand on his arm. “We can take this really slow—or not at all if that’s what you want, Wyatt. I don’t want you to feel like you have to accept Ian and me just because we’ve made the trip.”

  He frowned, felt the warmth of her palm through the sleeve of his shirt. It surprised him that his heart was slamming against his ribs. “You have somewhere else to go?”

  Her gaze skittered away. “My sister lives in Billings. She also works for the magazine that you advertised in. She’s in Alaska on an assignment for the next month. What I’m trying to say is, if you’ve had a change of heart, I’ll understand. We can use the time we’ve given ourselves to see if this is really what we want. Or else I can just be a working boarder. In either case, I need a place to stay for a month. At least until Tori gets back from Alaska.”

  A month.

  Why not? He’d do as much for just about any stranger who showed up needing a roof over his head.

  And it didn’t look like any of the cowboys in Brewer’s Saloon were going to offer to take Hannah Richmond and her kid and a half off his hands. Oddly enough, he didn’t like the idea that one of them would.

  IAN WAS SOUND ASLEEP by the time they reached Wyatt’s ranch.

  Her new home.

  Hannah’s heart pounded and her palms were damp. Of course that could have been from the fright she’d suffered when the deer had nearly darted in front of them on the road. Even now, she was having trouble getting her breath back.

  “You doing okay over there?” Wyatt asked.

  She liked the sound of his voice—soft, smooth and masculine. He was the epitome of what she’d expected a cowboy to sound like.

  And she was getting way too fanciful, she reminded herself.

  “Where I’m from, we don’t actually play chicken with the wildlife.”

  He shut off the engine and opened the door. The dome light illuminated his sexy grin and Hannah’s heart stumbled all over again. She had to gain some sort of control.

  “A deer can do more damage than a freeway pileup.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  He shook his head. “Usually, by the time you see them, it’s too late to do anything. Boom. And hauling a trailer, the last thing you want is to go into a skid. That gets ugly.”

  “I never thought I’d consider anything good about the California freeways. I think I’ll still reserve judgment, though.” If she had her way, she wouldn’t be going back.

  “Welcome to the Double M.” He came around and opened her door, holding out his hand to help her down.

  For a long moment, she stared at his outstretched hand. She’d been getting in and out of her truck unassisted for as long as she could remember.

  That giddy feeling increased. Gentlemanly behavior. She’d forgotten that was still practiced.

  She put her hand in his, tried not to let her excitement show. His palm was rough and callused. A workingman’s hand.

  A hand that could very well hold her dreams in its palm.

  She saw the spark of attraction, desire. Okay, so far the plan appeared good. He returned her interest. That meant deeper feelings could grow. She knew enough of human nature to be able to tell if he hated her on sight or if she turned him off.

  Neither was the case. And this was a good thing. Very scary, but very good.

  “Thank you.” All too soon, he let go and Hannah quickly turned away so she wouldn’t cling.

  It was so dark out. Porch lights shone from the house and another building off to the right, but without the beam of the truck’s headlights, that was all she could see.

  Millions of stars twinkled in a sky that seemed to go on forever. The crisp night air smelled of animals and earth. No exhaust fumes or smog or hot oil from the corner fast-food place.

  The silence was profound, pressing in on her. She was used to traffic and helicopters overhead. Here, there was only the night, the man and the occasional low of an animal.

  A dog’s soft “woof” brought her attention toward the barn—or was it a stable? She didn’t know.

  “Oh, isn’t he a cutie?” She longed to reach out to the animal, but realized she’d actually backed closer to Wyatt, the side of her body bumping up against his.

  “That’s Bandit.” He clicked his fingers and the dog immediately sat, his tongue lolling, his tail wagging against the dirt. Two dark circles ringed his eyes like a mask. “He’s as gentle as they come and loves kids. Spoiled rotten, too.”

  He said it casually, but she knew he’d picked up on her unease. She liked his sensitivity. With each positive point in his favor, she started to relax, to truly believe that she’d done the right thing by trekking across several states to be some stranger’s mail order bride.

  “Ian will be in heaven.” She reached out a tentative hand and Bandit licked joyfully. That instant jolt of caution flashed through her body and it took more effort than she liked to keep from jerking back her hand. She hadn’t been around animals, had never even owned a dog.

  She lectured herself to have a spine for heaven’s sake. Ranch life was as much about animals as it was land, people and family. And she wasn’t going to fail in the first five minutes at something she wanted so badly.

  “Why don’t you point out which cases you need for tonight. I’ll get Ian inside then come back for the luggage.”

  “I can get Ian.”

  His gaze lowered to her stomach. “No need. Like I said before, I imagine he’s getting pretty heavy for you.” He reached inside the truck and unbuckled the seat belt, lifting the little boy out, putting a blanket over him.

  “I can at least carry one of the suitcases.”

  “Leave them. I’ll come back.”

  She wasn’t used to this treatment. Or this bossiness. And she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it.

  But she f
ollowed him to the house and up on the porch. He opened the door without the aid of a key.

  At home, she had to struggle with locks as well as dead bolts. Of course here, they were out in the middle of nowhere. It had taken a good fifteen minutes from the main road just to get to the house.

  And what a house it was. Sprawling in a squared-off horseshoe shape, two stories, it seemed to go on forever. The front hall had a wood floor accented with rugs to give it warmth. Straight ahead, a massive living room dominated the main floor, with hallways leading off in both directions as well as a staircase. She followed Wyatt up the stairs.

  “Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t…”

  Her hand trailing on the oak banister, she glanced at him. “Wasn’t what?”

  Wyatt cleared his throat, and lowered his voice. He’d nearly told her he wasn’t expecting company, when she clearly thought he was.

  The house probably looked like a wreck to Hannah. Newspapers and magazines were strewn on the coffee table and bits of dried mud dusted the pine floor, tracking a path from the kitchen to the wool carpet runner on the stairs.

  Cleaning day wasn’t until the weekend—and only then if time permitted. And he had no idea if the sheets on the extra beds were clean, or even who’d slept in them last.

  “I wasn’t sure how it would look to you. It’s kind of masculine, I guess.”

  “Oh, no, it looks very nice.”

  “I’ve got a woman from town who comes in twice a month to clean. This is her off week.”

  “And who does your cooking?”

  “I do. At least I have been since my folks bought a motorhome and decided to spend their golden years traveling.” He flipped the light switch in the extra bedroom—Timmy’s old room. A wave of sadness washed over him.

  The nursery furniture had long since been removed—Wyatt’s mother’s doing. She’d kept a juvenile decor, though: twin beds, dark-blue spreads with quilts folded at the end, a box of toys in the closet for when his cousin, Sheila, visited with her boys. Which they hadn’t done for a while. Not since his folks had been traveling.

  He wondered if Mary Malone would come rushing home if she found out about the four musketeers’ matchmaking scheme. Hell, he was thirty-five years old, for crying out loud. He didn’t need his mother to stick up for him. He ran a successful cattle ranch and could take care of himself just fine.

  And if he was in the market for a bride, he wouldn’t need to advertise for one.

  “He’ll be okay in the single bed, won’t he? I mean he won’t fall out?”

  “He’ll be fine. We both will.”

  “I wasn’t going to put you in here with him.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind for now.” She ducked her head and he saw her cheeks heat.

  For now. She meant until they were married.

  Until they were sharing a bed.

  His body responded just fine to that image, but his code of morals gave him the strength to rein in the base thoughts.

  Man alive, it was going to be some month.

  He stepped aside as she bent to remove Ian’s tennis shoes. Her citrusy scent teased his nostrils. She’d been traveling, yet she still looked and smelled fresh and warm and womanly.

  He backed up. “I’ll go bring in your luggage. Your room’s right next door.”

  “Okay. Just grab the blue cases for now. I’ll get the rest tomorrow.” She looked at him and added. “If you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind getting the cases. I do mind if you get them tomorrow.”

  She smiled. “I’m tougher than I look.”

  He returned the smile. “Yeah, well, cater to my ego a bit, would you? Us cowboys like to show off our muscles and our manners.”

  She laughed. “Thank you, Wyatt.”

  He nearly ran down the stairs. That wholesome look of innocence was doing crazy things to his libido.

  And making him forget that he hadn’t placed an ad in the magazines for a mail-order bride.

  A ROOSTER CROWED before the sun actually came up and Hannah felt her insides tickle with excitement.

  Her first day in Montana.

  On Wyatt Malone’s ranch.

  The smell of coffee brewing tapped right into her fantasies. She’d probably watched more Little House on the Prairie and Bonanza reruns than most people had.

  It was that vision she’d carried in her heart. In her dreams.

  She opened her eyes and gave a squeal of fright before she could stop herself.

  A wolf stared her right in the face.

  Diving under the covers, she waited for sharp fangs to sink into her flesh. Heart thundering, she got a grip and peeked out just as her bedroom door flew all the way open.

  Great.

  “What’s wrong?” Wyatt demanded, coming to a halt inside the room, looking around the floors, at the window and at her.

  Feeling like a fool, she held the blanket to her chin with one hand and gestured with her free arm, which was out of the covers. “The dog…?” She let the word trail off because she wasn’t absolutely certain that’s what the animal was.

  “Chinook?” Wyatt frowned and patted his jean covered thigh.

  As mannerly as the little dog last night had been, this one trotted over to his side and sat, tongue lolling, a goofy expression on his face now that she got a really good look. “Is that animal smiling?”

  Wyatt grinned. “He’s male. Wouldn’t any guy be smiling if he was in a woman’s bedroom and she was still in the bed?”

  She didn’t know how to respond. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was flirting with her. And her own flirting skills were terribly rusty.

  She gave a nervous laugh. “Since I’m not a man, I wouldn’t know. He looks like a wolf.”

  “He’s part wolf, but don’t worry. We rarely let him look in the mirror so he doesn’t seem to realize what he is.”

  She smiled at the affectionate way he talked about the dog—as though it understood him. The image of Chinook admiring himself in the mirror tickled her.

  “I feel so silly. It’s just that I thought I’d met the dog last night.” The cute one with the rings around the eyes.

  “Brace yourself. There’s still another you haven’t met.”

  “You have three?”

  “More than that, actually. Lady’s got herself a couple of pups.”

  “Oh, Ian’s going to be in dog heaven. I just hope the animals are ready for him. Sorry I scared you.”

  “I thought you’d seen a snake or something.”

  She’d been all ready to relax, but at the mere mention of snakes, her hair stood on end. “Are they a problem here?” It was pitiful the way her voice squeaked.

  “Spring thaw is early this season, and this is the time of year they come out of hibernation.”

  Swell. “Do they, uh, often get in the house?”

  “Not often, but it’s not unheard of.”

  She nodded and swallowed, trying desperately not to show her fear. She felt enough like a ninny. But she absolutely, positively hated snakes.

  “Well, I’ll get out of here so you can get dressed or go back to sleep, whatever you choose.”

  “I’ll be getting up. I’m used to starting my day early.”

  “Then you’ll get along well here. We usually start before sunup. How about your boy? Is he an early riser?”

  “Seven-thirty. Like clockwork, summer or winter, whether he goes to bed at dusk or stays up half the night. You can usually set your watch by him.” She felt vulnerable lying here in bed with Wyatt Malone watching her.

  He had great eyes—eyes that had spoken to her the moment she’d spotted the magazine advertisement. Deep furrows creased his cheeks when he smiled, making her stomach do cartwheels.

  If they decided that they suited one another over the next month, he would have every right to watch her in bed. He’d be her husband.

  Knowing her sleep shirt was modest enough, she sat up and finger combed her hair back from her face, her hand pausing in midswipe when she
noticed the look on Wyatt’s face, the utter stillness of his body.

  His gaze was focused on her chest.

  He backed up, tripped over the dog. “Fine, uh, I’ll see you downstairs.”

  WYATT HAD BACON sizzling in the skillet, a towel wrapped around his wrist to protect his arm from splattering grease, and a hot cup of coffee on the counter beside him.

  Used to being alone, he sensed Hannah’s presence before she’d said a word. It was as though her femininity permeated the room on a subliminal level.

  He turned, caught himself before he let his jaw drop. This woman set him off balance. She wore a pair of overalls that somewhat disguised her pregnant stomach. Her blond hair was in a ponytail. She looked young. And cute. And Wyatt wanted to waste the day just looking at her.

  “Coffee?” he asked. He felt as jumpy as a steer at a slaughterhouse, and he had no idea how to initiate the conversation he knew they needed to have.

  She shook her head. “I’m trying not to do caffeine with the baby and all.”

  “Hell…I mean, shoot.”

  “You don’t have to watch your language around me.”

  Definitely awkward. “Sure I do. You’re a woman, right?”

  “Last time I checked.”

  She laughed, and the sound wrapped around him. He wanted to cover her hand where it rested over her pregnant stomach. But he resisted and pulled open several cabinet doors before he found what he was looking for.

  “Here’re some tea bags. You can wrestle with brewing them. No, wait.” He looked at the box. “This stuff probably has caffeine, too.”

  “It’s okay, Wyatt. A little won’t hurt me or the baby.”

  “How do you get awake without caffeine?”

  “It was tough at first, but I’ve adapted.”

  “I think you’d have to haul me off somewhere if somebody told me I couldn’t have coffee.”

  “I’ll be sure and not tell you that, then.”

  He noticed that she was unobtrusively glancing at the floors and trying to get a look under the table and under the overhang of the cabinets by the baseboards.

  “Did you lose something?” He set the bacon on a paper towel to drain and cracked eggs in the skillet.

  Her look was full of guilt and chagrin. “Snakes.”