by Mindy Neff
He laughed. “There aren’t any snakes in the house, Hannah.”
“Well, you said it was a possibility.”
“Unlikely. Plus, Chinook would let me know if one came in.”
She reached a tentative hand out to Chinook. “Good wolf. No nasty snakes in the house.”
Chinook gave a happy bark and Hannah jumped.
Wyatt frowned and Hannah apologized. “I know you said you didn’t mind a ready-made family and that you’d teach me about ranch life. But I can see you didn’t count on me being so green—and such a chicken around even the dogs.”
Wyatt scooped eggs and bacon onto plates and set them on the breakfast table. “I guess it surprises me that you’d come all this way wanting to live on a remote ranch if you’ve never been around animals.”
“I’ve been around them. Just not recently. Or for very long.” Determined to be brave, she reached down, trailed her fingers through Chinook’s fur and scratched his ears. He licked her wrist and she smiled at the tickle.
“What are you looking for here, Hannah?”
She sat down at the table feeling as though her feet were resting on quicksand. Had she blown it already?
She wanted this cowboy country life-style so bad—even though it was only a glamorized image she’d carried in her mind, in her fantasies, she knew it was the reality she wanted. Every instinct she possessed told her so.
“This is probably going to sound stupid to you because it’s your life. But I want the vegetable garden and the neighbors helping out without expecting payment. I want the ease of acceptance without the need to put on airs. I want the smell of fresh-ground coffee wafting through the house on a cold morning, the scent of wood burning in a fireplace, the sound of cattle and horses and crickets. The wind blowing through the trees and messing up my hair. The smell of earth and clean air and the feel of pine flooring beneath my feet.”
And love. She wanted somebody who would truly love her. Not cheat on her or lie to her or take her for granted. Someone who would accept her and cherish her.
And from all she’d heard, read and seen, these ranchers and cowboys were the true-blue type.
Maybe it was a fairy tale. She didn’t know. But it was the fairy tale she wanted. And she would know by the end of the month if it could be hers.
Chapter Three
Wyatt just watched her, not speaking for several long moments. Then he pushed his fingers through his hair.
“Well, we’ve got the pine floors and the coffee and the cows and horses and crickets. We’re a bit short on trees, mostly prairie and hills, but they’re out there. I don’t have a vegetable garden, but I’ve got the room for one. Takes more work than you’d think, though. The weeding alone would practically be a full-time job. The neighbors will definitely lend a hand without asking for money, but they’ve got their own spreads to take care of and don’t often get by to socialize.” At least he didn’t make the effort to get involved.
There had been a time when Becky was alive that they’d gone to barbecues and socials and hay rides and played cards or two-stepped to the local band in town.
He didn’t want that life-style again. He didn’t want to collect memories that would be like razor wire in his gut when he found himself alone again.
“Better eat those eggs before they get cold,” he said and sat down.
“You don’t have to fix me breakfast. I should be doing that for you.”
He forked eggs in his mouth, didn’t comment for a minute. It was silly to picture this woman doing things for him. If a man let himself get too used to an idea, it would take root and become an obsession.
He imagined Hannah Richmond could become quite an obsession.
“I’ve been cooking on my own a lot of years. Most of the time I don’t go so elaborate as this morning.”
“Oh. You did this in my honor? I’m ashamed. I don’t want you to work harder on my behalf. I should be picking up some of your slack. That’s one of the reasons you need a wife, right?”
He blinked. Swallowed hard. Cooking and wife weren’t synonymous in his mind. Now bed and wife was another matter.
He cleared his throat, got up, grabbed the coffeepot, and refilled his cup.
“You lived in California all your life?”
“Yes.”
“So what made you all gung ho on ranch life? You got visions of dude ranches dancing in that pretty head?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I realize ranching’s hard work, and I have to admit I’ve probably glamorized it in my mind and maybe overestimated my courage level, but I assure you, my determination outweighs most of my fears.”
“Good trait to possess. So where’d the idealism come from?”
“My aunt and uncle.” She touched her necklace, an unconscious gesture. “When my sister Tori and I were little, we visited Aunt Shirley and Uncle Rob on their farm in Iowa. The memories are like butterfly wings inside my stomach every time I recall those trips and over the years, it’s grown stronger. My aunt and uncle were so much in love and totally committed to each other and their family and the land. It was a dedication they passed on to their children, and sure enough, my cousins grew up to marry and have families and farms of their own.” That sense of community and love was what Hannah yearned for.
“So what stopped you from going back to Iowa?”
“Aunt Shirley and Uncle Rob are gone now. Ironically they were killed along with my mom and dad in a train accident.”
“Sorry. That must have been a really tough loss.”
“Yes. And I’ve lost touch with the cousins. Actually, I’d never thought about looking for work or a home at their place. I hadn’t even known I was going to come here until you wrote back.”
He picked up his plate and put it in a sink full of soapy water.
“What about your husband?”
“Ex-husband,” she corrected.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Ex, then. Doesn’t he mind that you’ve taken his kid and a half out of the state?”
She smiled at his reference to the baby in her womb as half a kid. “I don’t see how he could mind since he took off for Jamaica with his latest squeeze the minute he found out I was expecting. Divorce papers came a week later.”
Wyatt’s mouth tightened in displeasure. “Jerk. How could he just walk out on you like that?” Pregnant for crying out loud. This was a time in a woman’s life when she should be especially cherished. Not heaped with responsibilities and heartbreak.
“Oh, I think I knew it was coming. We lived at a pace that threatened to give me ulcers. Allan thrived on that speed, the nightlife and the social scene. He was a successful attorney—well connected. He also thrived on variety.” She could still remember the parties he’d dragged her to because it was expected of him, or the ones she’d hosted at their home. He never even tried to disguise his flirtations.
“When I told him I was pregnant with this one he called it quits.” She placed a hand protectively over her stomach.
“I repeat, he’s a jerk.”
“You won’t get an argument from me.”
“What about Ian? Does he ask about his dad? Miss him?”
“He asked at first. But Allan was never really a part of Ian’s life. And Ian’s an adaptable kid.”
Knuckles rapped on the kitchen door. “Come on in,” Wyatt hollered.
The door swung open and Cherry Payne walked in, then stopped in her tracks. “Oh,” she said, looking at Hannah. “So, you did stay the night.”
Knowing the grapevine in a town this small had probably worked overtime, Hannah didn’t take offense. She felt a little embarrassed that everyone would know that she’d come here as a mail-order bride, but figured she’d get used to it soon enough.
“Yes.” She smiled at the other woman, surprised when the gesture wasn’t returned.
Instead, Cherry turned to Wyatt. “I hadn’t known you intended to advertise for a wife.”
Wyatt poured another cup of coffee and lea
ned against the counter, his booted ankles crossed. Cherry had just presented him with a fine opportunity to get this whole mess out in the open, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it this way. Not with Cherry as an audience.
Hannah deserved privacy if she was going to have her dreams dashed.
“You’re out early, Cherry,” he said rather than comment on her question.
Cherry shrugged and thankfully dropped the subject. “I came by to remind you about the section of fence on Butterhill that’s down. The herd’s straying, and as much as I trust the sturdiness of your stock, we ought to take care of it.” She gave him a wink. “I’ll be glad to ride out with you and help fix it. After all, it’s on my property, too.”
“Thanks for the reminder and offer, but I’m tied up today. I’ll send one of the boys out to get right on it, though.”
Cherry raised her brows, glanced at Hannah, then back. Wyatt knew claiming to be too busy to take care of a problem was nearly unheard of. Having a strange woman as a houseguest was even more out of character.
Cherry shrugged. “Okay. Just thought I’d check. Send whoever you can. You know where I’ll be.”
With one last unreadable look at Hannah, Cherry let herself out the door.
Hannah took her plate to the sink and rinsed it. “I don’t want to be in the way or keep you from your work.”
“I’m the boss man. I make the rules.”
He said it easily, but there was a thread of tension in the air. Hannah’s spirits plummeted. She was already in the way and had somehow managed to upset one of the neighbors. All in less than twenty-four hours.
Great going, Hannah.
That certainly wasn’t the plan—or part of the fantasy. In her mind, she and her next-door neighbors would become best of friends, exchanging recipes and gossip, organizing bake sales at the church.
Cherry Payne didn’t strike her as the bake sale type, though. Nor did she appear overly friendly.
Then again, she could be wrong. Perhaps she’d caught the woman on a bad day. Or worse…her mind flashed back to the look on Cherry’s face when she’d been talking to Wyatt.
“Is Cherry married?”
“Widowed.”
“Ah.”
“What do you mean, ‘ah’?”
“She cares for you.”
“Sure she does. We’re neighbors.”
“As a man, Wyatt.”
“Cherry? Nah.” Did she? he wondered. “She’s got a bull I’m trying to talk her out of. She’s had a rough time financially since Wendell passed on.” And that gave him a bit of a twinge that he hadn’t dropped everything and gone out to fix the fence. Well, he’d make sure Trevor or Glen got to it today.
“I’ve got a registered herd and I’m thinking about starting another. I can do that with Casanova.”
“Casanova?”
“The bull. Purebred, nice even disposition. The girls love him.”
“The girls?”
He grinned when she continued to parrot everything he said. To her, a city woman, he would probably sound like he was speaking another language. But he didn’t mind. Ranching was his life and he loved to talk about it.
“The cows,” he explained. “Seems Casanova has more charisma and technique than your average stud.” He liked that pink in her cheeks, the way he could nearly see her mind putting together images.
“Oh.” She laughed at herself. “I’ve got a lot to learn.”
The grandfather clock chimed the half hour, and Ian appeared at the kitchen doorway, looking small and unsure, the hem of his pajama bottoms dragging on the floor.
“Hey. Look who’s up.” She should have gone to his room so he wouldn’t have to find his way downstairs in a strange place.
His sleepy gaze traveled around the room and his eyes widened, banishing the last of his grogginess and unease.
“Doggie!” he shrieked and skip-hopped right across the room to throw his arms around Chinook’s neck.
Hannah made an instinctive move to protect, to admonish, then caught herself. There was no sense in projecting her silly fears onto her son. Besides, Wyatt had told her the wolf was as tame as a pussycat. She had to trust him.
A difficult thing to do for a woman who’d had to rely on herself more often than not. Although she’d been married for six years, she might as well have been a widow for all the help and support Allan had given her.
Chinook gleefully licked Ian’s face, eliciting little-boy giggles and Hannah relaxed, smiling at the joy on her son’s features.
“Chinook, show some manners,” Wyatt said.
Ian giggled more. “S’nook, show some manners,” he mimicked.
Wyatt felt a smile tug at his lips. “Sleep good, partner?”
“Yep. C-could S’nook sleep wif me next?”
“I imagine we’ll have a hard time stopping him. How about some eggs?”
“Yuck.”
“Watching your cholesterol?”
“Yep.”
“Cereal then.”
Ian nodded and climbed up on a chair, the mention of breakfast tempting him to quit smothering the poor dog. “Wif lots of s-sugar. You g-g-got lots of sugar, Wyatt?”
“I’ve got sugar, Ian.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, trying to ignore the tightening in his chest.
Especially when he saw the way Hannah was looking at him. As though he were a hero.
But he wasn’t a hero.
He was going to have to tell this sweet woman and her cute kid that he hadn’t sent for them. That he couldn’t keep them.
But the sun was shining and the kid was obviously feeling better. Surely this little tyke who was so taken by the animals should see a bit of the ranch before he left.
He poured cereal and milk in a bowl, set it in front of Ian and handed Hannah the plastic canister of sugar, figuring she’d want to regulate the amount that went on top of the cereal.
“When Ian’s finished eating, why don’t you get him dressed and come on outside. I’ll give you the nickle tour of the ranch.”
“Do we g-get to ride a horse?”
“Not today, partner.”
Ian’s face fell. Wyatt felt bad. “Well, maybe later, okay? Right now, though, there’re a bunch of mama cows in the corral that we have to see to.”
“B-ba-baby cows, too?”
Hannah put her hand on Ian’s head. “Eat, buddy. We’ll ask questions later.”
“Yeah, baby cows, too,” Wyatt answered anyway. “Plus some big old daddy ones.”
“Way, way big up to the sky?”
“Maybe not quite that big, but close.”
“’Kay, I’ll h-hurry.” He tipped up his cereal bowl and Hannah’s hands shot out to protect the crockery. “Ian, we don’t slurp,” she admonished.
“Yep, I do.”
“Yes, but we mustn’t.”
“Oh.” He considered that for a moment. “’Kay.”
Hannah looked at Wyatt, attempted to convey apologies. “We’re working on the manners.” Allan had hated it when Ian was less than perfect. And it had annoyed him to listen to a barrage of questions from a four-year-old.
“Nothing wrong with drinking milk out of the cereal bowl, if you ask me. Takes too long to get it all with the spoon.”
She smiled. “Don’t encourage him. And you don’t have to promise him a horseback ride. He doesn’t always get everything he wants.” Total understatement. And one of the reasons for the stutter, she suspected.
“Every little boy should have a ride on a horse, Hannah.” He picked up his hat and jammed it on his head. “I’ll be down by the corral or the barn. Come on out when you’re ready.”
Hannah nodded and watched him go out the back door, Chinook obediently on his heels. His hat nearly scraped the doorjamb and a pair of gloves stuck out of his back pocket.
His jeans were so tight, it was a wonder anything could fit in the pocket to begin with.
And it was entirely too soon to start thinking about the fit of his jeans.
Wasn’t it? They hadn’t really talked about how this whole mail-order bride thing was going to work other than his agreement to give it a month to see if they suited.
But that timeline wasn’t exactly set in stone, she thought, feeling a giddy flutter in her stomach.
There were such things as falling in love at first sight—or at least very soon. Say within a week? It wasn’t unheard of. Aunt Shirley had told her she’d fallen for Uncle Rob one week and married him the next and never looked back.
That’s what Hannah was hoping and praying was going to happen with her and Wyatt.
Oh, she knew she wasn’t any great beauty, but she was better than average—despite what Allan had said. At least her face was. And her body wasn’t that terribly bad. Other than the pregnancy, she hadn’t put on too much weight. She was soft and cushy, but not flabby. Womanly, was how she’d describe herself.
She’d answered Wyatt’s ad because she was physically attracted to his photo. Unwise, perhaps, but there it was. And she’d hoped that attraction would turn out to be mutual.
Judging by the way Wyatt’s gaze lingered on her, she believed that it was.
Her heart skipped and her stomach tumbled as she thought about where that attraction would lead. Would they make love before they decided on the wedding date?
Oh, she just didn’t know. She wasn’t up on the rules of mail-order brides.
She did know that she was in major lust with her husband-to-be.
And halfway in love with him, too.
She took Ian’s bowl to the sink and rinsed it. “Let’s go get you dressed, champ. Then we’ll check out our new digs. I hear there are puppies in the barn.”
“Yeah!” Ian sang, hopping like a jumping bean, racing around the table. “Doggies! And puppies, too!”
“Slow down, now.”
“No. Hurry, mom.”
“Okay.” She laughed at the happiness on her son’s face. This was good for him. Just what he needed. She’d made the right decision by coming here. She had to believe that.
HANNAH HELD TIGHT to Ian’s hand as she walked toward the corral. Chickens squawked and scuttled out of her way. A goat swung his head around, chewing a hunk of grass, watching her, contemplating butting her, Hannah was sure. She nearly ran, but thankfully exercised some restraint, feeling like an idiot for even thinking the thought.