The Rancher's Mail-Order Bride

by Mindy Neff

  “I’m so sorry,” she said again. Inadequate words, but what could a person say that would ease?

  His memories seemed to turn inward for a long moment. Then he spoke softly. “Becky was raised here—granted it was in town.” He glanced at her for a second. “Iris and Lloyd own the saloon.”

  “I know.”

  He nodded. “Even being raised here, she was tired of it. Wanted more, but I wasn’t sure what. She started making trips to Billings, buying stuff she didn’t really need, I guess trying to fill a void in her life that I couldn’t.”

  Hannah couldn’t imagine Wyatt not being able to meet a woman’s needs. Any woman’s. “Maybe she simply thought the grass looked greener in the city?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But isn’t that the same thing you’re doing? Looking for greener pastures here in the country?

  “Perhaps.”

  “So, what makes you think you’ll be content?”

  “Because this is something I’ve wanted all my life. I didn’t just wake up one morning in California and decide I was unhappy with the pace. This life-style has tempted me and intrigued me for years.”

  “You’ve idealized it. And me,” he said. “You’ve got your heart set on the cowboy mystique, not necessarily the person.”

  A month ago, she might have considered that his statement had validity. Now that she’d met him, though, fallen in love, she knew it was different.

  She wanted Wyatt Malone and everything that he stood for.

  Oh, sure, the fantasy had been glamorized in her overactive imagination. But the reality was so much better.

  She nearly told him her thoughts, but his look stopped her. A tiny corner of her mind registered that he wasn’t watching the sky, that the little plane was practically flying itself. But she didn’t mention that, either.

  Because at that moment, he reached across the small space between them and rested his hand on her knee palm up. It was a gesture that asked for reciprocation, and she placed her hand in his. He gave a gentle squeeze.

  Dark glasses hid his eyes, his expression. The headset impersonalized some of the emotion in his voice, but not all of it.

  “I’m not that person, Hannah. That husband you came here for. I don’t have it to give.”

  “Because you gave it away? To your wife?”

  His incredibly broad shoulders lifted in a stiff shrug. “You might as well know the whole ugly truth. It was my fault—the accident.”

  “What?” She couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d told her they were passing a UFO.

  “I couldn’t keep her happy. I wasn’t willing to compromise.”

  “Wyatt, this ranch is your life.”

  “It was my father’s, too, but he’s in Florida right now. That’s what Mom wanted, to travel for a while, and Dad was smart enough to listen.”

  “You’re actually blaming yourself for the accident? Did you quarrel before she left?”

  “No. We didn’t need to. Come to think of it, we didn’t even talk. Becky was lonely and depressed. I knew it and dismissed it.”

  He glanced at her. “That’s why I would have never run an ad like Ozzie and the guys did. If I couldn’t keep a woman who was raised in this life happy, how the hell could I hope to keep a city woman happy? Love doesn’t conquer all.”

  “That’s very cynical of you, Wyatt.”

  “Cynical but true. I lived it. I made a stab at it and I don’t think I can do it again.”

  “I believe people can love deeply more than once.” Aunt Shirley was an example. She’d loved as a young girl and lost that husband. Then she’d met Uncle Rob and loved again.

  “But can it come with guarantees?”

  She shook her head. “No guarantees.” He was afraid of losing again. And no one but God could promise that he wouldn’t.

  Wyatt’s obstacles were much bigger than she’d anticipated. And that, very likely, was going to break her heart.

  GAUGING THE TIME difference between Montana and Alaska, Hannah fished out the phone number of where Tori was staying. After their plane ride yesterday, she realized she needed to make some contingency plans…just in case.

  She had to face the possibility that her stay in Montana might not be permanent—at least here in Shotgun Ridge.

  She still held out hope that it could be, but she had both Ian and her pride to think about.

  And she wouldn’t settle for anything less than love.

  She’d been there, done that…and wouldn’t do it again.

  The phone rang twice on the other end.

  “Tori Carrington.” Groggy, with an attempt to sound alert.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. Rise and shine.”

  A pause. “You’re disgusting, do you know that? It’s barely 6:00 a.m. here. What the heck time is it in California?”

  “I’m not in California.” Hannah looked out the kitchen window and saw Wyatt striding between the barn and the corral. “I’m in Montana.”

  “Oh, no. You’re not at my place, are you?” There was a rustle of sheets, the snick of a lighter, an indrawn breath as Tori sucked in her morning shot of nicotine.

  “No. You already told me you’d be in Alaska for the month. I thought you were going to quit smoking.”

  “I’m working on it. So, if you’re not at my place, where are you?”

  “Shotgun Ridge.”

  “Where the heck is that?”

  Hannah smiled. “A little dot on the map a couple hours from Billings.”

  “And you’re there because…?”

  “Well…” This was the tricky part. Tori, older by two years, had always been the adventuresome one, while Hannah was the home, hearth, feet-in-the-ground, rooted one. “There was this ad—uh, in your magazine, in fact—”

  “Please tell me you didn’t,” Tori interrupted.

  “I did.”

  “Which issue?” More rustling now.

  She pictured Tori searching through her stack of magazines. “February.”

  “Shotgun Ridge, Shotgun Ridge,” Tori repeated like a song as the sound of pages ruffling came over the receiver. “Oh…my…goodness.”

  “You found it.”

  “I found him. Hannah, he’s a hunk!”

  “He’s a really nice guy.”

  “So, why does he have to advertise for a bride? And what the heck were you thinking to go off like that? Answering an ad from a stranger? Why didn’t you call me? Let me check him out—my gosh, it says they don’t have women in this town!”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.” She could hardly keep up with her sister’s rapid-fire questions.

  “He misrepresented himself and his town?” Tori asked, aghast.

  “No. Tori, calm down, would you?”

  “That’s a lot to ask, sis. In fact, I’m wondering if I’m actually talking to my sister and not some crazy person who’s inhabited her body. I mean, you didn’t even know if this guy was decent. He could have been an ax murderer or something.”

  “I wrote to him.”

  “Oh, that makes it just fine. Hunkiness aside, this Wyatt Malone could have been a serial killer.”

  “Tori, your imagination is running away with you. Wyatt’s not a criminal or anything else.”

  “Just a guy who has to advertise for a mail-order bride.”

  “Well, that’s the thing. He didn’t.”

  Tori groaned. “I don’t think I’m awake enough for this conversation.”

  Hannah smiled. And listening to the deep breaths coming across the telephone line as her sister smoked, she related the story from the beginning.

  “Oh, that’s tough that he lost his wife and little boy,” Tori said.

  “Yes. He’s so good with Ian. And Ian is thriving here, Tori. He’s hardly even stuttering anymore.”

  “That’s great. And how about you, Hannah? Are you thriving? I know what you went through with Allan. I also know that after that fiasco, you’d never settle for anything less than love.”

  “I do l
ove him,” Hannah said softly.

  “And?” Tori asked just as softly.

  “And I think he loves my kid.” She paused. “I think he could love me. I want to believe that there are second chances for all of us.”

  “Like Aunt Shirley.”

  “Yes.” Hannah closed her fist around the crystal heart necklace, the pendant warm from her skin. “I want what she had.”

  “Have you thought about what you’ll do if that doesn’t work out?”

  “That’s why I was calling. I knew you’d be on assignment for the month, and I know I should have told you my plans beforehand, but I figured if it didn’t fly here, I’d come hang out with you for a bit. I’m done with my old life.”

  Tori was silent for a long pause. “You packed up all your stuff?”

  “The important things, yes. Tori, what’s wrong?”

  “I wish you’d told me. I’ve sublet my apartment, Hannah. The documents have already been faxed back and forth and signed. The magazine has transferred me. I’m staying in Alaska.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The sun was setting. It was that time when daylight melted into dusk, when the cicadas harmonized with the crickets and the land glowed in deep and dreamy shades, shifting and sliding, soothing the soul.

  It was the time of day that Wyatt loved, when the work was done and his life and accomplishments were laid out before him.

  Here in the peaceful interlude just before twilight, he stood on the back porch and surveyed the latest change in his land.

  Hannah had paused at the edge of the garden, wearing another of those gauzy skirts and long sweaters in pale lavender that made her skin resemble delicately carved ivory.

  The embodiment of femininity and womanhood.

  She should have looked out of place on his ranch.

  Instead, she looked exactly right.

  She stood with her hands on her hips. He glanced down to see what made her so obviously disgusted, and noted the problem.

  He stepped up behind her, put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We better get started for the dance.”

  She turned, her misty-green eyes simmering. “I’m going to have rabbit stew. Just look what they’ve done, Wyatt.” She swept her hand in a wide arc. “They’ve helped themselves to every one of my brand-new shoots.”

  “You sure it was a rabbit? Can’t have you accusing the animals falsely, especially when the deer have a certain affinity for vegetable gardens.”

  “I’m sure. I caught him red handed and the coward took off like a shot.”

  “They’ve been known to do that,” he said dryly, noting that the cowboys were all spiffed up and piling in their trucks to head for the dance. He waved and turned Hannah away from her ruined garden. “We’ll just have to try again. And put up a fence next time.”

  She sighed. “I really wanted to get that right.”

  The barely discernable note of defeat surprised him. “I know,” he said, his fingers tightening in comfort at her waist. She sounded so forlorn he wanted to hug her. Instead, he steered her around the corner to the truck and hollered for Ian.

  The boy charged out of the house, puppies under his arms, Lady and Chinook on his heels. Wyatt grinned, headed him off. That little kid was something.

  “We have to leave the dogs at home, sport.”

  Ian frowned, begged with his velvety brown eyes. “Pwease? They might get scared.”

  “Naw. Lady and Chinook’ll watch out for them. Besides, they don’t know how to dance.”

  Ian went into a gale of giggles that invited participation. “’Kay. I’ll put ’em back.” He whirled around so fast, the dogs’ ears flapped, which caused him to giggle again. Lady and Chinook scrambled after him, all of them bounding up the stairs like wild animals.

  “No running in the house,” Hannah shouted after them, then shook her head. She might as well save her breath. Seeing her son happy and thriving this way did her heart good.

  Feeling one of those rare moments of absolute contentment, she stood by the truck with Wyatt, waiting for Ian to return.

  They were about to go to a dance. As a family.

  This was so wonderful, she thought. Family time. A family date in a family town. Unlike the snakes and skunks, this was in her brochure of fantasies.

  But wonderful as it might be, this was a new arena she was playing in. She wasn’t sure what to expect and was a little nervous.

  “Do I look okay?” She realized it sounded as if she were fishing for a compliment. “I mean, am I dressed properly?”

  He grinned at her primly phrased question. Then his sexy gaze took a slow pass over her body, licking flames in its path. Her breath caught and held.

  “You look perfect. Stunning.”

  That surprised a laugh from her. “Let’s not go overboard.”

  He brushed his knuckles lightly across her cheek, moved closer. She thought he was going to kiss her. Right here out in the open. To the song of the cicadas and the spectacular setting of the sun.

  As the sky burst with vivid colors her insides did the same. Her blood went from simmer to burn in two seconds flat. She leaned toward him, already imagining the taste of him, the feel of him.

  The slamming of the screen door made her jump.

  Wyatt reached around her, yanked opened the truck’s door.

  She frowned. He almost looked angry. Then she realized what was bugging him. They’d nearly kissed. And they were on their way to a town dance where he had every misguided intention of matching her up with a suitable rancher. Despite their heated kisses, he hadn’t given up on that ridiculous goal.

  Hannah figured she needed a strategy to change this man’s mind.

  OZZIE AND LLOYD surveyed the crowd at Brewer’s Saloon, well pleased. Henry and Vern came to stand beside them.

  “Just look what we’ve done,” Ozzie said proudly, noting the placement of tables around a dance floor where a nice combo was playing country tunes. “When’s the last time you saw this many people in town? Any of you?”

  “Been a while, that’s for sure,” Henry said. “It’s too early to impact my feed business, but Lloyd here’s going through a lot of booze and beef, and Vern’s turning a pretty good dollar at the general store.”

  “Sure is keeping Vera hopping. Why, I even ordered a couple varieties of cigars,” Vern said. “Durndest thing. Womenfolk asking for them as much as the men.”

  “I’ll have to section off a cigar room,” Lloyd said.

  “You bet.” Ozzie beamed, already imagining it. “I tell you this sight does my heart proud. Just wish my Vanessa was here to see it.”

  The four men shared a moment of silence, nodding.

  “Heard the widows Bagley have turned their white clapboard into a boardinghouse.”

  “Pretty enterprising of them,” Henry commented. “Seeing as how Lloyd’s place here is full up.”

  “Not a single vacancy,” Lloyd agreed, filling four mugs with beer on tap and passing the tray to Maedean. He’d already hired himself two new waitresses for tonight. Women new to town. The direct result of their advertisements in the city papers.

  “Shotgun Ridge’s coming back to life, boys,” Ozzie said. He smiled, nodded toward the door. “And lookie who just showed up. Our first family.” He glanced at Lloyd. “You sure you’re okay with this, my friend?”

  Lloyd nodded. “We’ve been through this before and I said I was. Wyatt’s a decent man. He did right by my Becky and he deserves a second chance.”

  “’Spect we’ll have some trouble convincing him before it’s all said and done.”

  “That Hannah’ll win him over,” Henry said. “Sweetest thing. Was in my store buying seeds for a garden a week ago.”

  “Well of course she was,” Ozzie said shortly. Honestly, sometimes he wondered if his pal was having trouble in the remembering department. “I was right there and spoke to her myself. Uh-oh.”

  “What?” Lloyd, Henry and Vern chimed.

  “Ethan Callahan at two o’clo
ck.” He pointed, all but rubbing his hands together. “And just notice the look on Wyatt’s face, would you? Couldn’t have timed that better if we’d planned it ourselves. Just what the boy needs. You bet. A bit of competition to put a claim on his property. He’ll tumble yet. You bet.”

  “HEY, THERE, California. You’re looking especially delightful tonight.”

  Strategy, Hannah thought as she returned Ethan Callahan’s friendly smile. She hadn’t known just what her angle would be. It hit her like a brick when Ethan turned up his innate, perfectly harmless charm.

  From the corner of her eye she saw Wyatt scowl. Oh, yes. This would be good.

  “Why thank you, Ethan. You clean up pretty good yourself.”

  Ethan gave a barely noticeable jolt, then recovered quickly enough, his eyes smiling as he caught on.

  Wyatt snorted.

  “Did you say something, Wyatt?” Hannah asked.

  He glared and Ethan grinned. “Mind if I steal your date for a quick turn across the floor?”

  “Hell, Callahan, we haven’t even eaten yet. For that matter, we’ve hardly crossed the threshold.”

  “Nothing says you can’t have a dance on an empty stomach. Work up an appetite.”

  He whisked Hannah away and Wyatt didn’t have the right to stop him. And why would he, anyway? Even if she were his, which she wasn’t, there wasn’t a thing wrong with her dancing with another man. Becky had danced with Ethan numerous times.

  He pried his eyes away from Hannah and Ethan. “Well, sport,” he said to Ian. “Looks like it’s you and me. What do you say we go check out the menu?”

  Ian nodded happily and slipped his hand in Wyatt’s. He felt the familiar softening around his heart and his chest puffed out. You didn’t see Hannah’s son rushing to hang all over Ethan. No, sir. It was Wyatt’s hand that the boy held. And that gave him a leg up on his friend.

  This crazy line of thinking disgusted him. What the heck was the matter with him? And by God, Ethan was holding Hannah too close. He took a step in that direction, nearly mowed down Ian.

  “Hey,” the little boy chirped.

  “Sorry.”

  Obviously not injured, Ian tugged at Wyatt’s hand and swung around as though Wyatt were a Maypole. “Nikki’s here! Can I go play wif her, Wyatt?”