The Rancher's Mail-Order Bride

by Mindy Neff

  It was all the invitation he needed. His arms were sure and strong as they came around her, his mouth claiming control of hers. It was a kiss that went from simmer to boil in less time than it took to blink.

  He swept her up in his arms, the old-fashioned gallantry surprising her, arousing her. His strength was amazing, thrilling. Even with the weight of her body, he took the stairs two at a time and never even appeared winded.

  This man was a fantasy come true.

  “I want to go slow,” he murmured. “Savor. But I’m not sure I can. Not the first time.”

  He didn’t seem aware that he admitted there would be a next time between them. It gave Hannah hope. Incredible hope. And her love for him grew to proportions that she didn’t know how to contain.

  But she had to. She didn’t want to scare him away.

  “Then don’t go slow, Wyatt. I want you now. Fast.”

  Her words inflamed him. With quick and clever hands, he undressed them both, eased her down against the mattress and followed her there.

  But as much as he’d led her to believe this would be a fast and wild coupling, it was anything but.

  His body fitted to hers with an arousing press in all the right places, yet he held his weight off her, drew her slightly to her side, cupped her face between his hands and kissed her.

  Just that. Just a kiss. A kiss that was soft and warm and deep and incredibly erotic. A kiss that inflamed while at the same time sent butterfly wings battering against her stomach. A kiss that made her throb. A kiss that made her want to weep.

  With his lips alone, he worshiped her, made her feel cherished and alive, both subdued and wild.

  She nearly lost her concentration when he nibbled his way down her neck, over her swollen breasts. She came out of the euphoria long enough to realize that nerves were crowding in her throat, that she had a reservation or two about her body. She was pregnant, and she wasn’t a young girl.

  He lifted his head. “I’ve lost you.”

  This man was so perceptive. It proved that he thought of only her, focused his entire being on only her. It was a gift worth more than he’d ever know.

  “I want to be beautiful for you. Sexy.”

  “Ah, sweetheart, you are.”

  “I’m not a hard-body.” At five months along, she wasn’t huge, but there was a definite distention.

  “You’re so much better.” He framed her tummy with gentle palms and pressed a reverent kiss there. The emotions that welled took him by surprise. He couldn’t believe how much he wished that the baby girl in her womb were his child.

  He ran his hands softly over her from head to foot, arousing her by slow degrees, determined to fill her with desire so deep and fierce she wouldn’t have the energy to think about curvaceous bodies.

  He’d never taken more care with a woman. Not even Becky. He didn’t understand why Hannah was so different, why she inspired this slow, practiced touch. It became vitally important to show her pleasure, all there was to offer.

  She’d told him she hadn’t been kissed in years. It became his sole mission to make up for that inexcusable lack, to sip from her sweet body, to leave not an inch of her remarkably soft skin untouched.

  When his lips closed over her in the most intimate kiss a man could give a woman, she came undone.

  He watched the pleasure flash across her face, heard her surprise and satisfaction in the hoarse, ragged voice as she called his name.

  “I’m right here, sweetheart.”

  She sucked in a breath, trembled. “We agreed on fast.”

  “Mmm. I changed the rules.”

  “You’re good at that.” Her words ended on a delighted gasp when his hands closed over her breasts, his mouth trailing back up her body.

  Her hands roamed over his hair, his back, fingers dancing over skin, driving him mad.

  “I want to touch you—more of you,” she said.

  “Next time. Hold on to me now.” He shifted her, entered her, slowly, carefully, thoroughly.

  Her breath hitched, sighed.

  He filled her up, her body, her soul and her heart. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she loved him, but her mind was swept clean of thought when he began to move.

  The friction was exquisite, a slow building wave of pleasure gathering steam until it became like a roar in her head. She was burning up. The single-minded attention he showered over her body blurred her vision, her mind.

  And all the while, he watched her, gauged her pleasure, gave her more, then incredibly, even more. She couldn’t even define what that ‘more’ was. She only knew that it was shattering.

  She wanted to plead, but didn’t know what to plead for. She needed, yet feared that need. It was too much. Too powerful. Too close to the coveted dream she wanted desperately to grab and hold.

  He went still, buried deep inside her. She felt him throb, felt her own body synchronizing with his, the rhythm. Sensations inflamed, yet something remained elusive.

  He eased back, holding her with his gaze. So still, so exquisitely erotic.

  There was no wild rush for completion. He was making love to her with his mind and his body and his soul, letting her know they had all night, that he would wait for her, that he would give her the moon and take her to heaven, no matter how long it took.

  Unaccountably, tears crowded her throat, emotions so huge she didn’t know what to do with them. Please, was all she could think.

  His lips lowered, barely touching, breath mingling, eyes wide-open.

  And then he thrust, long and deep and Hannah nearly wept.

  “Let go for me.”

  She wanted to. She desperately wanted to. But the feelings flooding her were new and frightening. They were too much, not enough. She felt a scream well, pound through her, never materialize. She thought she’d go mad. She was terribly afraid she’d shatter, that she’d never find the pieces of herself again.

  “Let go, sweetheart. I’ll catch you.” His teeth clenched as he held viciously to his control. He saw the flush spread over her breasts and neck, saw her surrender, felt the spasms building, trembling on a fine precipice, tumbling.

  He linked their hands and drew them up beside her head, held her gaze for a long moment, then pressed his lips to hers and swallowed her scream of completion with a kiss that rocked his soul.

  In his determination to give to her, he’d miscalculated. And now, he was holding on to his heart for dear life.

  WHEN HANNAH WOKE, she was alone in Wyatt’s bed. She sighed and rolled over, the cool, crisp sheets feeling incredibly decadent against her naked skin.

  He’d reached for her again during the night, made love to her in another one of those slow, incredibly giving sessions. His generosity and skill gave her confidence in herself once more, made her feel like a desirable, sexy woman, etched memories that would last a lifetime.

  But now, in the light of day, she imagined he would feel guilt. He was a man who’d once believed in commitment, yet didn’t any more.

  And because he wasn’t willing or able to offer that, he would have morning-after regrets.

  She would have to ease that burden for him. She still had hope that he could fall in love with her. But they needed an unencumbered field in which to play. No pressure.

  And if it didn’t work, it wouldn’t be for lack of trying on her part.

  Because somewhere between last night and this morning, somewhere in the feelings Wyatt had wrung from her, the exquisite liberation, she’d realized a few things about herself.

  She hadn’t actually come to Montana looking for a husband.

  She’d come to find herself.

  The revelation had rocked her right down to her toes.

  Without realizing it, she’d become wife, mother and social secretary to Allan. She’d put everyone’s needs before her own.

  Allan had wanted an ornament and that’s what she’d tried to be. Even in sex, she’d been the one to give the most, as if her pleasure wasn’t as important as his.


  And when Ian came along, things changed. Hannah had found herself working even harder to be who Allan wanted. To be perfect.

  She didn’t know when she had stopped mattering. When she’d become a shell.

  Yes, she did.

  It was when she’d seen Wyatt’s eyes in the mailorder bride advertisement. Just that simply, those eyes had spoken to her, had sparked the coveted memories she’d kept buried in the back of her mind for years.

  Oh, she still aspired to be a wife. That wasn’t the problem. Making family your career was a noble goal, an important one.

  But she wanted to be an equal partner.

  She wanted to feel a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. Tired, perhaps, but fulfilled.

  All the things Wyatt’s ad had promised.

  With Allan, she’d been suffocating in a cement grave without a personalized marker. She’d lost sight of her purpose, her pride and her identification.

  She wanted more.

  She wanted to matter.

  “MAN ALIVE, look at the people,” Wyatt said as he pulled the truck to a stop in the church parking lot. He hadn’t quite known what to say to Hannah on their drive to town this morning. Their relationship had shifted, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Dan’s going to be a happy preacher with this flock to minister to. Were all these people at the dance last night?”

  “All these women, you mean?” Hannah asked, her smile soft, her green eyes full of spunk.

  “The ratio’s definitely tipping. I wonder how many papers the old geezers advertised in.” The small talk felt stilted, inane. He should be addressing what had happened between them last night. The cinnamon scent of the apple pies Hannah had baked for the potluck filled the truck, teasing his senses.

  She reached across the cab of the truck and laid a hand on his forearm, gave a gentle squeeze. “Please don’t feel uncomfortable with me. Don’t be sorry.”

  “I took advantage.”

  “No, if anyone took advantage, it was me. Let’s just let it be, Wyatt. We have time.”

  Time. Wyatt made a quick mental calculation. She’d been here a little over two weeks, had less than two more to go before their time was up, before she’d go to her sister’s in Billings. She was giving him permission to not think about it. To just enjoy. Permission to keep the rules just as they were, without recriminations.

  And God help him, he wanted to take that time.

  He got out of the truck, came around and opened Hannah’s door for her, feeling manly when she gave him one of those looks that let him know he continued to surprise her.

  He wanted to give her more surprises.

  “Wyatt!”

  The sound of Ian’s voice had him turning, opening that secret place in his heart he kept well guarded. The little boy streaked across the churchyard and Wyatt grinned, striding forward to meet him halfway.

  Hannah watched Wyatt hoist her son in the air, catch him up in a hug and perch him on his broad shoulder.

  “Come on, Mama!” Ian shouted, wiggling and beckoning.

  Both man and boy were grinning at her, inviting her into their circle. Just like last night at the dance.

  She loved how this man adored her son.

  With his hand at her back and Ian still riding his shoulder, he led them into the church and started to slip into the back row.

  “No,” Ian admonished. “Up there wif Nikki.”

  “We better move closer,” Hannah said. “Remember what Pastor Lucas said about hiding in the back? I wouldn’t put it past him to call attention in front of everybody and make us move.”

  Wyatt sighed, but it was a good-natured sound. “You’re right. All these changes. Next thing I’ll be expected to wear a tie.”

  Hannah snagged his hat off his head. “Your neck’s safe, but the hat’s another matter.”

  “Woman, a man’s hat is sacred.”

  “Yeah, well, let it be sacred in your lap for a while.”

  He winked, allowed her to keep the hat.

  They were just like a true family, walking up the center aisle of the church, teasing, nagging and glowing as though they’d found the secret of harnessing the sun.

  Ozzie beamed at them as they passed, and Ethan blew her a kiss—a deliberate attempt to annoy Wyatt.

  It worked. Wyatt scowled and possessively tightened his arm around her, drew her closer to his side.

  Hannah had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. It was Sunday morning, the sun was shining and the pansies were blooming. Hope was in the air.

  Pastor Lucas was indeed in his glory and it took twice as long to introduce all the new guests, and even longer to deliver his sermon. He’d obviously felt quantity as well as quality was called for with the larger crowd. So many more souls to nurture and save.

  After the services, Hannah left Wyatt to go help the ladies set up the food in the church hall. The ambiance and community spirit was vibrant and alive.

  Mounds of Iris’s potato salad and trays of fried chicken and ham weighed down the banquet table. Another table was set up with punch, coffee, cookies and desserts.

  Hannah just stood and surveyed her surroundings, feeling a part of it all, accepted.

  Feeling as though she mattered.

  “That’s just what I like to see,” Ozzie said, plucking a cookie off the table beside her. “A pretty woman with a big, happy smile. You bet.”

  “Afternoon, Ozzie. You’re looking pretty happy and proud yourself.”

  “Me and the boys love it when a plan comes together. This here’s a good town. We gotta take care of it.”

  “Have you lived here all your life?”

  “Yep. Born and raised. Married my sweet Vanessa and made a home here. We weren’t blessed with children, but Vanessa was a schoolteacher. Taught pretty near every young person in town. Sort of adopted them all, treated them like her own.”

  “Then you had a very large family indeed.”

  “You bet. Family and friendships. They’re important. Just kills my soul when somebody leaves, looking for greener grass.”

  “Like Wyatt’s parents?”

  “Well now, that’s a different story. They stayed, raised a family and cows, and they’re not truly gone. Wyatt’s daddy is a great cattleman, but there’s a tiny piece of his heart that yearns for adventure. Guess that’s why he hightailed it off in that motor home. Now Wyatt, on the other hand, is wholehearted cowboy. Like his gramps was, God rest his soul. Won’t see him up and leave. No sir. His feet are planted real firm in Montana’s soil.”

  And that caused him guilt, Hannah knew. He felt if he’d been a little more like his father, more willing to compromise, then Becky wouldn’t have made so many trips to the city, might even be alive today.

  It was that guilt, that fear that kept him from giving a commitment.

  And Hannah had less than two weeks to see if things could change.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Standing in her garden, hoe in her hand, Hannah smiled as she watched Ian frolic with the puppies in the yard. They were growing and thriving. Just like her son. Just like her garden now that Wyatt had fenced it in to keep out the rabbits and deer.

  Butterflies took flight in her stomach when Wyatt saw her and came toward her. The sight of him never failed to arouse her, fill her with emotions that pushed at the seams of her heart and soul.

  It was moments like these that she felt all was right with her world, viewed all she looked upon as hers.

  Over the past few days, Wyatt and Hannah had discussed everything from movies to politics. They’d talked about childhood, adulthood and everything in between. In less than a month, he knew more about her than Allan had in six years.

  Wyatt listened. He cared.

  He’d become her friend as well as her lover.

  And they both avoided the calendar.

  He stopped in front of her now, ran a finger down her nose in a gesture that was both friendly and intimate.

  “You should be wearin
g a hat. You’re going to burn that delicate skin.”

  “I’ve got on sunscreen. Who’s that coming in the truck?” An old pickup with a trailer attached was whipping up a cloud of dust as it came down the drive toward the barn.

  “The fellow who’s picking up the llama.”

  “You’re getting rid of Fancy?”

  “She’s not really ours. We’ve only been boarding her for Clyde Davis. His barn burned a while back. We helped him rebuild, but it’s taken him a while to get back up to speed.”

  “Oh, in that case, this marks a happy occasion. It means your neighbor is back to normal.”

  Wyatt chuckled. “You make a good point.”

  “Mind if I tag along and say goodbye? I feel a little guilty that I never got to know Fancy. I meant to, but…” Well, she was taking it slow. One animal at a time. And there was something about that llama’s eyes—cute as they were—that gave her the impression it saw too much, that it had deep thoughts and just might like to play a few tricks on her. There was no reason for her to feel that way, but she had.

  Still carrying her hoe, she leaned it up against the shade of the barn as the llama and her baby were herded into the truck.

  Wyatt shook hands with Davis and refused to take any money for board. Davis accepted with grace and gratitude.

  “Your mother will miss her,” she said when Wyatt stepped back to watch the truck pull away.

  “Ha. She was the first to offer to take the thing home, then took off to see the country. But you’re right. She misses all the animals. Which reminds me, we ought to butcher a couple of the chickens and put them in the freezer. The flock is getting a little large.”

  “My chickens?” Horrified, she sputtered, “You want to…” It didn’t bear saying. “Oh, Wyatt, I’m not sure about that. How can you eat something that has a name?”

  He stared at her for a minute, then roared with laughter.

  Hannah might have laughed right along with him, but movement caught her eye.

  Oh, God.

  Snake.

  Coming right up behind Wyatt. Moving slowly. Rattles glistening silver. Curling and stretching, it inched forward, directly toward him, his left boot in its path.