A Match for Morgan

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A Match for Morgan Page 1

by Marie Ferrarella




  about last night…by morgan cutter

  Okay, so I know I made one of the biggest mistakes a woman can make last night when I let my brother’s best friend kiss me senseless. Especially since Wyatt McCall has been the bane of my existence for the past twenty years! It must have been those two (three?) glasses of champagne I had…on top of that cold medicine. Of course, it also could have been a reaction to seeing my brother get married, but mind you, I’m not about to admit that to anyone else. And even though there are still three more weddings to go, this is never going to happen again. Even if that kiss superseded my wildest dreams…

  Dear Reader,

  Who doesn’t love a wedding? And if you’re single, you just naturally start thinking about your own love life and who you might someday end up with. So is it any wonder that when Morgan Cutler, the heroine of Marie Ferrarella’s A Match for Morgan, starts making the rounds of all her siblings’ weddings, she finds herself thinking a few thoughts of love? What amazes her, though, is the identity of the man she’s thinking about. She and Wyatt McCall have been at odds ever since she can remember, so why is he suddenly looking awfully…kissable? You’ll hate to say goodbye to THE CUTLERS OF THE SHADY LADY RANCH, but I think you’ll agree with me that this miniseries is going out with a real bang.

  Then check out Lynn Miller’s Did You Say Baby?! Take one cowboy who knows nothing about babies, add one heroine with a baby in tow and no working knowledge of cowboys, stick them together in one suddenly-too-small house out on the ranch and…boom! Spontaneous combustion is bound to occur. This is only Lynn’s second book, but she knows her stuff, and you’ll be looking forward to more from her, I promise.

  So have fun, and don’t forget to come back next month for two more wonderful Yours Truly novels, the books all about unexpectedly meeting—and marrying—Mr. Right

  Yours,

  Leslie Wainger

  Executive Senior Editor

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  A Match for Morgan

  Marie Ferrarella

  To June Casey—

  the best part of your life

  is still ahead of you.

  Trust me.

  Dear Reader,

  Well, here we are, seemingly at the end of the Cutler saga. I say “seemingly” because you never know with these books. When you least expect it, one of the characters seeps into another book, making it his or her own. That’s one of the things I love about writing, the surprises. They happen to the writer as well as the reader.

  I left Morgan’s story for last not just because she’s the youngest, but because Morgan wasn’t the kind to go running off, losing her heart, until all those around her were losing theirs. Stubborn, headstrong and feisty, she needed someone strong to help her find her place in that wonderland called love. She met her match in Wyatt McCall. And though she tried to deny them, the tender feelings she’d been harboring for Wyatt for so long were overwhelming in the face of one wedding after another.

  I truly hope you had half as much fun reading about the Cutlers as I had writing about them. And now, off to the next saga. Meet me there?

  Love,

  1

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Staring at the name she saw neatly written on the list her brother Hank had just handed her, Morgan Cutler turned to look at him. This was a hell of a surprise to spring on her. She’d thought that Wyatt McCall was a safe distance away, not here, waiting to breathe down her neck.

  Maybe there was some explanation. She mentally crossed her fingers as she repeated, “Tell me you’re not serious.”

  Hank leaned back in his chair, balancing himself on the two rear legs. They were in the kitchen of their parents’ sprawling ranch house. The large room, decorated in wood and stone, had practically been the center of their lives when they were growing up. There was always something comforting about the kitchen. All the major decisions affecting them had been made in this room. It seemed only fitting that he discuss the plans for his wedding here—the first of four weddings the Cutlers would see in what promised to be a very frantic September.

  Hank laced his hands behind his blond head, his mouth twitching only slightly as he tried vainly to keep the grin off his face. Because the teasing and pranks of childhood weren’t all that many years removed, he feigned ignorance.

  “About Fiona, definitely.” The grin grew larger. “About the wedding, yes.”

  Morgan’s blue eyes narrowed, warning the youngest of her four older brothers that she was in no mood to be toyed with.

  “Don’t get cute with me, Henry Alan Cutler. I mean about having Wyatt in the wedding party. I thought he was still in Hawaii, impressing everyone there with his so-called business acumen.”

  “He’s back. His firm transferred him to take over the Programming Division here. He’s staying with his folks until he finds a place of his own. Even if he hadn’t transferred, he told me that there’s no way he would miss my wedding.”

  Morgan sighed. There was no mistake, no hope to cling to. Wyatt was back. “Lucky you.”

  Hank leaned forward, planting his chair on solid ground again. The war between Morgan and Wyatt was an old, on-going thing. “Morgan, Wyatt’s my best friend.”

  Morgan shook her head. Damn it, why did he have to come back now? Why couldn’t Wyatt have lost touch with her brothers the way so many friends do when they move away?

  “I always said you should set your sights higher than ground level, Hank. All you’ll ever find there are snakes, slithering around, waiting to bite you when you least expect it.”

  Hank took back his list of the wedding party and folded it before tucking it into his shirt pocket. “Shouldn’t you have outgrown this by now?”

  Morgan tossed her head, sending a sheet of long blond hair flying over her shoulder. “Feuds are ageless, you know that,” she said, tongue in cheek. “Besides, your best friend is more to blame in this than I am. He can hardly say a civil word to me whenever he enters a room.”

  “That’s because you won’t let him,” he reminded her. “You attack as soon as you see him coming.”

  It was safer that way. She wasn’t about to let Wyatt McCall catch her at a disadvantage like he had that evening, five years ago. Not ever again. She’d made a point of not being around when Wyatt was. His move to Hawaii had made things a lot easier for her when she visited her parents’ ranch. But there was no way she was about to share that with Hank. As far as her brothers and parents were concerned, this was just a continuation of a feud that had begun one snowy day two decades ago.

  So, she merely shrugged carelessly. “Dad always said the best defense is a strong offense.”

  Getting up, Hank laughed. “And you can give offense better than anyone I know.” Because he’d taken an early flight from Bedford, California, to return to his parents’ Montana ranch and had missed lunch, he opened the refrigerator to see what he could eat to tide him over until dinner was ready. Everything that met his eye looked healthy. He was in the mood for rich and filling. Sighing, he settled on an apple.

  Morgan stood on her toes and ruffled his hair, knowing he hated having it mussed. “Behave, or I won’t give you your wedding present.”

  He raised one hand, palm up, in surrender. “I’ll be good.”

  “That’ll be the day.” She supposed it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, it wasn’t as if she and Wyatt were going to be chained at the hip. There were a lot of people coming. Half the town, if her father had his way. She could easily avoid Wyatt. “Speaking of ‘the day,’ it’s your day, your
wedding, you should be able to have it the way you want it.”

  “Are you actually saying you don’t mind having Wyatt in the wedding party?”

  “Oh, I mind all right. But I’ll just have to make the best of it.” Trust the man to complicate her life at the worst moment, Morgan thought.

  Obviously surprised, Hank recovered quickly and brushed a brotherly kiss against her cheek before taking a bite of his apple. “Knew I could count on you, Morg.”

  “Of course you can. It’s Wyatt McCall you have to worry about in this mix, not me.” Taking the apple from him, Morgan took a healthy bite out of it before handing it back. “I’ll behave myself.”

  “That’s all I ask, Morgan.”

  She thought of Wyatt and wondered who he was bringing to the wedding, then shrugged away the thought. Made no difference to her if he brought every last cheerleader from the Dallas Cowboys lineup. No difference at all.

  Taking the list out of Hank’s breast pocket, she looked at it again. “Well, at least you had enough sense not to make him your best man.”

  “That spot belongs to Will.”

  Hank was close to all of them, but everyone knew and understood that there was a bond between him and his oldest brother that was just a shade stronger than the rest. Morgan nodded.

  “Let’s see, Will’s your best man and Quint, Kent and Peter—” she enumerated her other brothers and Fiona’s brother-in-law “—are your ushers. I guess Wyatt fits into the slot of what, subhuman agitator?”

  Hank took the list from her, this time sliding it into his back pocket. “Don’t start, Morg.”

  “Start?” She looked at him innocently, then grinned. If she couldn’t avoid this, then she’d damn well have fun with it. “I never start anything.”

  “Yeah, right. And birds take taxis to go south for the winter.” His grin turned serious around the edges. “A word to the wise, Morgan. If you ruin Fiona’s day, I’ll hunt you down and shoot you.”

  Morgan laughed, patting his shoulder. They both knew she’d rather die than ruin something so important to him. “You couldn’t track an elephant across a muddy clearing, but as long as you don’t pair me off with Wyatt, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  Hank closed his eyes and sighed.

  Morgan had an uneasy feeling erupt in the pit of her stomach. But before she could put her suspicions in the form of a question, their mother walked in.

  Zoe Cutler looked like an older, slightly shorter version of her daughter. Slight, but not delicate. Zoe had the same aura of determination that Morgan possessed. The only difference at a quick first glance was her hair. Once long like Morgan’s, Zoe now wore it in a fashionable short blond cut that needed a minimum of fussing.

  She gave her only daughter a scrutinizing look just as her husband entered the kitchen behind her. She’d caught enough of the exchange between Morgan and Hank to know what this was about. And she knew Morgan well enough to guess that there was something else at the root of all this, something that was years in the making. Eventually, it would come to a head. But one way or another, Zoe wasn’t about to let it upset the first wedding they’d had on the Cutler ranch in thirtyfive years.

  “Morgan, don’t give your brother grief.” Going to the cupboard, she took out two large pots from under the counter and placed each on the stove. “It’s hard enough for a man to plan a wedding, any wedding, much less one that’s being held a long distance from where he’s living without you adding to his problems.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Morgan flashed a smile in greeting at her father. “However, I can’t speak for Wyatt.”

  Kissing first her mother’s cheek, then her father’s, Morgan settled down at the table again, the picture of serenity. It was only underneath that things were churning. She’d thought, hoped really, that Wyatt would stay put in Hawaii and let her enjoy this special occasion without being disturbed. And having him around definitely disturbed her.

  An army of spices and ingredients began forming on the counter adjacent to the stove as Zoe prepared to create another evening meal.

  “Speaking of Wyatt,” Zoe began nonchalantly, “he called yesterday and said something about taking us all out to dinner the night before the wedding.” Hands temporarily stilled, she glanced over her shoulder, her words directed toward Hank, her eyes on Morgan to see her daughter’s reaction. “That was rather nice of Wyatt, don’t you think?”

  “Nice,” Morgan echoed, then groaned inwardly. Dinner. Terrific. The man was going to be perpetually in her face for the duration.

  “I always did like that boy,” Jake interjected.

  Easy for him to say, Morgan thought. He’d never made a fool of himself in front of Wyatt. “You always were too easy, Dad,” Morgan quipped.

  Humor lit his eyes. “Let you slide with a lot of stuff, missy, didn’t I?”

  Her eyes crinkled as she laughed, tossing her blond mane over her shoulder again. She came up behind her father and wrapped her arms around one of his, laying her head against it the way she used to when she was small and tried to wield a favor out of him after her mother had turned her down.

  She batted her lashes at him when he looked down at her face. “That was because I was your baby girl and had you wrapped around my little finger.”

  “You got that right.” Jake gave his daughter a fond squeeze. It was incredible how much she reminded him of Zoe when he’d first met her. “But you weren’t supposed to know that.”

  Morgan raised her chin, her mouth spreading in what was recognized as a Cutler grin. She dearly loved this man. Loved all of them with a fierceness that was almost unimaginable.

  “I was your smart baby girl.” Morgan nodded toward her brother. “It was Hank here who was the dumb one.”

  Zoe stopped mixing. She normally didn’t press her children, but her curiosity was at its limit. This so-called feud went far beyond childish tomfoolery. “What is it you have against Wyatt?”

  For years Zoe had thought Wyatt McCall might be the very thing that her headstrong, obstinate daughter needed. Morgan had a heart of gold, like her father, but a stubborn will of iron that outdid any of her brothers, even Kent. She needed a strong hand in hers, someone she could respect, not boss around. There were times Zoe despaired that her youngest child would never find a man who could make her release her grasp on the reins of control long enough to share them. Zoe knew how important that was to a marriage, to share and not just control or be controlled.

  The only man Zoe had ever met outside the family who seemed equal to the job was Wyatt. If only Morgan would stop snapping every time they came close to each other.

  Morgan pretended to think. Her reason was too personal to share, even with the people who mattered most to her. “Alphabetically, or shall I just spew it at random?”

  Zoe merely shook her head. “Any way you want.”

  Morgan ticked faults off on her fingers. “He’s egotistical, obnoxious, annoying—”

  “Sally Gibson doesn’t seem to think so,” Zoe cut in, then noted with interest that there was a rather green light coming into her daughter’s eyes. It gave her hope. “Saw her hanging on his arm the other day. Hanging all over him, actually. She looked awfully happy to see he was back.”

  Morgan waved the information away with a condescending snort. “Sally Gibson has the IQ of a jar of pickles. Even if he does take notice of her, she’ll be history soon enough. It’s a given that Wyatt never hangs around long. He was only married to Judith, what, six minutes?”

  “Over two and a half years, almost three,” Zoe corrected, though she knew it wasn’t necessary. Morgan knew exactly how long Wyatt’s marriage had lasted. And that the breakup was one of the reasons Wyatt had taken the Hawaii assignment.

  “He’s just being young and enjoying himself now,” Jake pointed out. Zoe raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Not that I’d know anything about that,” Jake added quickly, pressing his lips together to keep from chuckling.

  Morgan saw the look
that passed between her parents. Together forever and they still behaved like they were dating, just on the cusp of that first wild love. God, but she’d give anything to have someone love her that way—and to love someone the way her mother loved her father.

  Still, she couldn’t resist teasing. “So you didn’t enjoy yourself when you were a young man?”

  “I was with your mother from the time I was eighteen—” Jake began to explain before he realized what that had to sound like. “You know what I mean.” He tugged on the ends of Morgan’s hair the way he’d once tugged on her ponytail. “Why are you trying to get me into trouble, girl?”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “Because it’s the only fun I have these days.”

  “Now that’s hard to believe.” The back door slammed shut, underlining the words Wyatt had just uttered. He walked into the kitchen, making himself at home the way he’d done for over twenty years. His own parents’ house had been larger, more elegant, but the neighboring Cutlers’ place was warmer. Nicer.

  He’d always liked coming here more than he’d liked returning to his own home. He knew his brother Casey felt the same way. There was a warmth here. His family was civil, polite, but the Cutlers really cared about one another. It was evident in everything they did, even when words flew hot and fast between them.

  He took off his hat and casually hung it on the back of the closest chair. It pleased him that he’d taken Morgan by surprise. Nodding at Hank, he greeted the older Cutlers before looking down at Morgan.

  When he did, his smile was ever-so-slightly superior, knowing that it incensed her. “Hello, Morgan, didn’t know you’d be here.”

  She prided herself on being able to hit the ground running, and recovered quickly enough. Her smile was tight as she looked at the man who’d been the burr under her saddle from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him.

 

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