by Claire King
"We're rich," he corrected.
She glared at him. "And you didn't tell me this, why?"
"I've been busy." He grinned. "Besides, I took you for a gold digger the minute I laid eyes on you."
"Be careful, city boy. I can still kick you with my good foot." She settled back down onto the bed and stared up at her ceiling. "Really, Henry. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I figured I would after you figured out you loved me."
"Oh. Well, I do love you. You know that, don't you, Henry? I do love you."
"I know you do."
"But you'll try not to manipulate me in the future, won't you?"
"Mmm. I'll try." He was drifting. Her room smelled really good. Someday he'd tell her how many mornings he'd stared at her window trying to catch a glimpse of her in her nightie.
"Henry?"
"Mmm?"
"I want you to pay off my bank note. It's ninety-three thousand and change."
Henry smiled into his pillow. No pleading, no wheedling. Just straightforward Calla. Lord, he loved this woman.
"Okay. First thing Monday. Now let me sleep. That chair in your hospital room was uncomfortable as hell."
"I'll sign over half the equity of the ranch to you."
"Whatever," he mumbled. "Idaho's a community property state. I'll get half when we get married anyway. If you don't make me sign a prenuptial agreement."
"Very funny. Are we getting married?"
He wondered if she had a bathtub up here. He remembered pretty vividly what she looked like wet. He'd have to ask her. If she ever stopped talking.
"Of course, we're getting married. Idiot."
"Henry?"
"What."
"How rich are we?"
"Pretty rich."
"Then as soon as I get better, I want to start building my own house. This one doesn't have enough room for us and the twenty babies."
"Funny," Henry murmured sleepily. "Calla, I forgot to tell you earlier. I love you."
She snuggled beside him. The warmth from her body settled into him.
"I'm not surprised, Henry. You're a pretty smart guy for a Californian."
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