Читать книгу The Double Heart Ranch - Leanna Wilson, Leanna Wilson - Страница 10

“Having trouble with a Dear Jane letter?” Elise Mc-Connell asked the studious cowboy sitting at one of her tables. She balanced a tray of food between one hand and her shoulder, and tried not to inhale the greasy odor of bacon.

The cowboy glanced up. His startling blue eyes narrowed into tiny slits of wariness that pierced right through her defenses. Deep crevices outlined his firm mouth, reminding her of the caverns in the nearby Palo Duro Canyon, hard and intriguing. He had dark brown hair that some barber had cut almost too short, leaving only a trace of a wave. He’d scattered several wadded up pieces of paper across the table and had scratched through his latest attempt with a stubby pencil.

Figuring he wasn’t going to answer her, she placed his order of scrambled eggs, waffles and bacon in front of him and tried not to notice his wide shoulders and stern, uncompromising jaw. She’d made one mistake with a cowboy. She wouldn’t make another.

Wishing she’d kept her big mouth shut, she asked, “More coffee?”

He nodded and pushed his mug toward the edge of the red-and-white-checked tablecloth. “Are you new here in Desert Springs?”

His deep rumbling voice made her abdomen tighten. Must be the pungent smell of grease, she assured herself. She hadn’t had time to eat breakfast before she’d reported for work at a quarter to six and she was beginning to feel weak-kneed.

“Yes.” She set the empty tray across a nearby table and reached for the carafe behind the cowboy’s booth. Refilling his mug, she added, “I’ve been here almost a month. It’s a nice town. Quiet.”

She didn’t tell him that she’d been dumped here, without transportation or money. It wasn’t important. She was used to fending for herself. After leaving the orphanage at seventeen, she’d traveled from town to town, working odd jobs, attending a few college courses that interested her, but mostly looking for a place to call home. She’d thought she’d found a family with a cowboy. But she’d been wrong.

She’d actually started to like this little west Texas town and was considering taking up permanent residence. Besides, she didn’t have any other place to go.

A hint of a smile curled the corner of the cowboy’s mouth, denting his firm cheek with what she imagined must be a dimple if she ever witnessed a full-fledged smile. “It’s quiet all right. The streets roll up at nine o’clock.”

She gave a soft laugh. “That’s okay with me. I’m usually soaking my feet by then anyway.” Or asleep by nine these days. Being signaled by another patron of Chuck’s Diner, she said, “Enjoy your breakfast. If you need anything else, let me know. I’m Elise.”

Immediately she put the sexy cowboy and his worried frown out of her mind. She had enough troubles of her own. She’d do well to remember to keep her nose out of others’ business.

Cole watched the talkative waitress walk toward another table and pour a cup of coffee for one of his neighbors. He couldn’t help but notice the saucy swing in her step, the enticing sway of her apron ties along the narrow part of her lower back. A long auburn ponytail bounced between her shoulder blades. She wouldn’t be here long, he figured. She’d grow bored with this one-horse town, especially when she realized there weren’t many eligible men to flirt with and wrangle into the bonds of matrimony.

Turning his attention to his breakfast, he took a few bites of peppered scrambled eggs and then glanced back at the crossed-out words on the piece of paper beside his plate. He shook his head and fingered another wadded up sheet, one of many he’d attempted in his search to find the right words. Maybe this was a crazy notion. He hadn’t told anyone about his plan. Would anyone understand? Hell, he wasn’t sure he did. His friends would probably laugh until they turned blue.

Over the next hour, his gaze kept sliding away from the task at hand toward the new waitress. She had a quick, eager smile and bright discerning hazel eyes that were fringed with long, swooping lashes. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he visited with several neighbors, folks he’d grown up with. They were ranchers and farmers, all about to head home to finish their chores, which was where he should go before picking up Haley from kindergarten. But he stayed on.

Four cups of coffee later, he shoved his fingers through his hair in frustration. He felt as jittery as a bull on the auction block. Maybe it was the caffeine. Or maybe it was that pretty waitress fluttering by his table and watching him so intently. This time, when she started to pour him another cup of coffee, he held up his hand. He’d had enough. Of the stout brew and his own stupidity.

“Are you a student?” she asked, propping a hand on her slim hip. “Trying to write an English paper or something?”

His frown deepened as he wadded up another page. “Working on an ad for the paper, but not having much luck.”

“Yeah?” As quick as the weather could change in Texas, she slid into the opposite side of his booth. “It’s slow, and you’re my only customer left. Maybe I can help you out. I took an advertising class once when I lived in Dallas. What are you selling? Cattle, horses, an old truck?”

His throat dried up like Cactus Creek had last summer. The woman had soft expectant eyes that seemed to peer right into his soul. She looked as if she’d seen a lot in her young years and might not be shocked by the truth. Like others in this town. But his suddenly thick tongue stumbled over the words like a teenage boy talking to a pretty new girl at school.

“Is it a secret?” she asked, leaning forward.

In a way. But not for long. If anyone discovered his plan, gossip would spread like wildfire during a drought. That’s what had him stumped. How would it affect Haley? He toyed with his coffee spoon, turning it over and over. Finally he found his voice and answered “Me.”

Frowning, she dipped her chin. “Me what?”

“Me.” He thumped his chest. “I’m for sale.”

Her eyes widened. For a moment she only blinked. Then her jaw snapped shut. “Well, that’s a new one.” She pushed against the table to make her escape. “Pardon me for intruding.”

He stopped her with a hand on her arm, stunning himself with a sudden need to unload his troubles. But why to this stranger? Maybe it was the sweetness of her smile, the knowing glimmer in her eyes or maybe it was the fact that she didn’t know him. Whatever it was, he figured she might understand. And he desperately needed to bounce his crazy idea off someone. “That didn’t come out right. It’s not what you think. Let me explain.”

She hesitated. Her eyes darkened, like oak leaves in late summer.

When he felt the muscles in her arm relax, he released his grip. His fingers burned where they’d touched her smooth bare skin. “Sorry.”

She didn’t answer, just stared at him with those perceptive eyes and waited. Waited for him to continue.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, settled his hand on his Stetson which lay on the seat beside him. He wished he’d kept silent. And kept his damn hands to himself. But he hadn’t. Ever since Haley had broken his heart three weeks ago with her innocent questions, he hadn’t been himself. He ran the palm of his hand down the top of his jeans-covered thigh. Now he owed this woman an explanation for his odd behavior.

What had the waitress said her name was? “Elise?”

She nodded.

“I’m Cole. Cole Dalton. I own a spread just on the outskirts of town.” He wanted her to know he wasn’t loco. He was local. He had roots here that went back four generations. She didn’t have to fear him. But he saw only wariness and a thin slice of interest in her eyes.

She nodded again, still waiting for his explanation.

“Hell, maybe I am crazy.” He thrust his fingers through his already rumpled hair. “I’m really not trying to sell myself.” But it felt like it.

He glanced around the inside of the diner. It was empty, except for the clattering in the back as Chuck, the owner, banged pots and pans in the kitchen, getting ready for the lunch crowd which would descend on the diner in about thirty minutes.

“You don’t have to worry,” she said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I can keep things to myself.”

He took a deep breath and then plunged in feet first. “I’m trying to find a mail-order bride.”

Elise was sure she hadn’t heard him right. Was this sexy cowboy with the dark-brown hair and sky-blue eyes trying to tell her he couldn’t find a wife on his own? What kind of a town was this if a handsome man had to advertise for a wife?

Then she stopped herself. She’d fallen for a pair of friendly eyes and a dimpled smile before. Maybe this cowboy was simply feeding her a line, like Rusty had. Or maybe the women in town knew him better than she did…and there was a good reason why no one wanted to marry him. Still, the red hue brightening the tips of his ears told her he wasn’t proud of the fact that he was taking out an ad for a wife.

Wary, yet even more curious by the minute, she asked, “Women that scarce around here?”

He shrugged. “Most are married, sixty-five and widowed, or young enough for me to risk a jail sentence.”

“I see.” But she didn’t. It made about as much sense as her following Rusty to this desolate area of Texas where tumbleweeds outnumbered the cattle. She knew folks did odd things for strange, sometimes inexplicable, reasons. She admitted Cole had piqued her curiosity. She rested her elbows on the edge of the table and clasped her hands. “Amarillo’s only an hour or so drive from here. You don’t think you can find a wife the conventional way?”

“Tried that once. Failed.”

Something in his voice hinted at deep-seated pain. Boy, could she relate. She hadn’t fared so well in the love arena, either. She’d thought she’d been in love. Thought it had been mutual. But she realized now, she’d been looking for a home, a family, and she’d wanted—needed—more than that restless cowboy had to give.

“It happens,” she said, recognizing the pain in her chest was not agony but embarrassment over her own foolhardiness. She had her own reasons for giving up on love, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a romantic at heart or that she believed this good-looking rancher should. Surely he could find himself a woman who’d love him. “One failed marriage doesn’t mean you can’t find someone else.”

“I’m not looking for love.” His voice was deep and flat, almost devoid of emotion, and sent a scintillating shiver down her spine. “I simply want a wife.”

“Why?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, excuse me, it’s probably not my business, but couldn’t you just hire a maid or something? For whatever it is you’re looking for?”

Her face flamed. Maybe he wanted sex. And she’d just suggested he hire out…Oh, heavens!

His grip on the coffee mug turned his knuckles white. He had hard, calloused hands, accustomed to hard labor. She wondered if his heart was as battered as his hands. “I want a mother for my daughter.”

His answer stunned her, knocking her back against the seat. Suddenly she saw this man in a whole new light. He was a single father, probably frustrated with his role, irritated with the stranglehold of family obligations. He probably wanted to dump the burden on some unsuspecting female. Rankled, she said, “Then hire a nanny.”

“Been there already. I need someone more permanent than a hired hand who can up and leave at the drop of a hat.”

Maybe he was thinking about his kid more than himself. Maybe. Then again, more than a wife he might need a whack on the head for a good attitude adjustment. “How old is your kid?”

His eyes brightened, the deep blue turning the color of a radiant summer sky, at the mention of his daughter. Then he smiled. Really smiled. Elise felt her heart lurch. She’d been right—he did have dimples. Which made her stomach flutter.

“Haley’s five going on sixteen,” he said.

As suddenly as her animosity had risen like a churning river, emotions dammed her throat. Her own father had never shown such pride in speaking about her. In fact, he’d never done anything for her but dump her at an orphanage when she was twelve days old and make darn sure she could never find him or her mother again.

But this man Cole…this rancher…smiled when he talked about his daughter.

She cleared her throat, trying to dull the dazzling effect of his smile. But she couldn’t forget the shimmer of joy in his eyes or the vibration of pride in his voice when he spoke of his precocious child.

Remembering the way she’d given the nuns fits with her own antics, she gave a soft chuckle and fingered the apron around her waist. She could tell that Cole’s daughter had wrapped her father around her little finger. It made Elise long for what she’d never had—would never have. “I was described the same way when I was a kid.”

Cole’s smile faded into a worried frown. He tapped his fingers anxiously on the table. “She needs a mother. Not a nanny. Not a maid.” He paused, and the sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “She needs more than I can give her.”

The raw pain in his voice sounded like disappointment and made Elise’s insides clench with understanding. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch this stranger, to reassure him, to soothe his troubled brow. This wasn’t any of her business. Why did she always get too involved?

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “Haley’s the best. She never gives me any trouble. But I know she’s not happy.” He ducked his head, as if ashamed of his confession.

Elise recognized despair when she saw it. She’d lived with it as a child. She’d learned to cope and face each day with a bright outlook, because she only had herself to rely on. To survive she had had to ignore the weak emotions of disappointment and overcome rejection and pain. If she hadn’t thought something better was always around the corner, then she never would have survived puberty. “How do you know she’s unhappy?”

“She told me.” He gave a slight shrug, making his chambray shirt pull tight across his well-muscled chest. “Not in so many words. But well…she wants a ‘happily ever after.”’ He looked at her then, the blue of his eyes darkening with sorrow and regret. “You know, like in fairy tales. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that doesn’t happen in real life.”

Elise understood Cole then—the hope he’d once had and the heartbreaking reality he’d experienced. Much like her own. She suspected he had a soft, compassionate heart beating beneath that rock-hard exterior. At least where his daughter was concerned. “So, you’re going to give her as close a version as you can?”

“I’m going to try my damnedest.”

The conviction in his voice made her believe him. Her heart clenched into a tight knot as she met his determined gaze. His firm, square jaw told her he could do anything he set his mind to. For some crazy reason she wanted to help him. Uneasy with her attraction to the rugged rancher with the soulful eyes, she tapped her finger on his pad of paper. “Then you’ll need a damn good ad. Maybe we should start with what paper you were thinking of advertising in? Desert Springs?”

“Not a smart move. I need a more populated place.” He lowered his voice as if Chuck might overhear in the kitchen. “Where folks don’t know me.” He shook his head. “Not because I’m embarrassed or worried about what they might think. I simply want the marriage to look real. If folks here learn the truth, then it will only be a matter of time before Haley figures out it’s all a charade.”

An emotion Elise hadn’t felt in far too long tightened her chest. This man would do anything for his daughter. His sweet tenderness touched her in a way no one had in years. “That seems wise. So maybe you should advertise in Dallas or Houston.”

“Both, probably.”

“Okay.” She reached for his pad of paper and pen. “What kind of a wife are you looking for?”

His brow furrowed, pulling his dark eyebrows together. “Well…someone who likes kids. Obviously.” He clasped his hands together, tapped his thumbs nervously. “Someone who’s kind, sincere. Who’d be content to live on a ranch. A down-to-earth woman, who’s not caught up in fashion or getting her nails done every week.” His gaze locked on Elise’s and made her swallow hard with anticipation. “A woman who wants to be a part of a family.”

His answer struck a vulnerable nerve in Elise, and she felt the resonating pain all the way through her soul. Her heart pumped as if it might burst loose from the confines of her chest. He hadn’t said “pretty, able to do backbreaking work and a good cook.” He was offering a family. What she’d always wanted.

Trying to concentrate, paraphrasing his words, she scribbled notes on the page. The letters blurred as hot, aching tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. Ashamed of her weakness, she blinked them away as she had so often in her life and clenched the pen tightly.

Pushing back a glimmer of hope, she managed to ask, “Anything else?”

He nodded. “Someone who can make a commitment and stick with it.”

She wondered if he were looking for the impossible. She’d learned long ago that promises were meant to be broken. At least by others. When she’d wrestled her turbulent emotions under control, she looked up at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “And what do you have to offer this make-believe marriage?”

This time he sat back against the seat. “What?”

“You want some woman to move out here and live with you as man and wife, tend to your child, and I assume do her wifely duties like cooking and cleaning and…” Heat stung her cheeks and she glanced away, unable to meet his intense gaze.

A palpable pause thrummed between them. Elise toyed with her pen, turning it over and over between her numb fingers. Why had she gotten involved with this man’s problem? Why did he make her yearn for something she’d long ago given up on?

She didn’t care if he found a wife or what he and this new wife would or would not do in an intimate setting. Good grief! What had gotten into her?

“Look,” she said, breaking the silence, “you have to bring something to the table, something of value. Why would a woman who doesn’t know or love you want to marry you? What are you offering?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, making dark brown tufts stand on end. The lines around his eyes and those bracketing his mouth deepened with tension. “I hadn’t really thought in those terms.” He rocked forward, then back. “But you’re right. She ought to know what she’s getting. I’m no lottery ticket. No real prize. At least that’s what my ex-wife said.”

She’d almost expected him to start cataloging his selling points. Rusty certainly would have. But she was beginning to realize that Cole Dalton wasn’t like the showboat she’d followed out west.

After a slow, thoughtful breath, Cole stated, “I’m offering a home. A family.” His mouth compressed into a firm, thin line. “I make a decent living. Nothing fancy. But I can provide for a wife and my child. I’m honest. Faithful. And loyal.” He gave a sputtering laugh. “Jeez, I sound like a hound dog for sale.”

She smiled at his analogy. He was anything but. And much, much more. Her pulse skittered at the thought of the possibilities. More anxious to hear his response to her next question than she cared to admit, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Do you want more kids?”

He blew out a pent-up breath. “You ask tough questions. Are you sure you didn’t take a class at the Barbara Walter’s school of journalism?”

She chuckled. “I’m sure.”

He turned his attention to the sun-splattered window that looked out onto the main thoroughfare that bisected Desert Springs. In the distance, a car horn blared. A furry dog pranced past, hunting for a scrap of food or his owner.

Elise watched Cole—the sternness of his profile, the decisive way his nose slanted toward his chin, the hard curve of his determined jaw.

Finally, his lips thinned, and he spoke. “I used to want a whole passel of kids. I was raised in the house where I live now. It’s a rambling old place. Been on our land for four generations.” He rubbed his palms together, and then clasped his hands, folding his long fingers, making Elise remember his gentle yet firm touch earlier. A warmth spread through her limbs, and she had a hard time concentrating on his next words. “I was an only child. It was a lonely existence.”

It sounded heavenly to Elise. She imagined the total adoration of two parents being focused on one child—her. The air in her lungs compressed.

“My folks wanted more kids, but were never able to have any more. I always wanted to give them plenty of grandkids, to fill up all the bedrooms in the house. Hear the laughter…”

“The shrieks. The arguments,” Elise added, remembering what it was like to grow up in an orphanage with at least twelve kids to a room. She’d always dreamed of a peaceful home, some place quiet and calm. She’d imagined a town much like Desert Springs where not much happened but where plenty of folks cared about each other, a place she could be a citizen, a neighbor, a member of the P.T.A. As she’d grown older, she’d started helping out with the younger kids. She’d enjoyed spending time with them, helping them get dressed, supervising their playtime. And she’d started dreaming of a family of her own.

She placed a hand over her stomach. Someday, she thought, someday soon. She wouldn’t have all of her dream. But she’d have a small, precious part.

“Maybe that was simply a fairy tale I’d conjured up,” Cole said. “Maybe it would have been more chaotic than I imagined.” He shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to discuss the possibility of more kids with the woman who answers the ad to be my wife.”

“You sound like there will be only one.”

In an aw-shucks manner, he shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’ll be lucky if there is one.”

She had a feeling women would flock to this little town on the edge of nowhere to meet this tender cowboy and his child. Suddenly a part of her didn’t want to help with the advertisement. Because she’d started contemplating something foolish and inconceivable.

Maybe, just maybe, his solution was the answer she’d been looking for.

One week later, Elise jounced the borrowed truck over the cattle guard and down the graveled drive toward a large, two-story farmhouse that looked better than Cole had described. And even better than she’d imagined. A white picket fence surrounded it. Tiny pink flowers in the yard battled the May heat. A solitary tree leaned toward the side of the house in the direction she’d learned the wind always blew here in west Texas. On either side of the house were sprawling fields dotted with rusty brown-and-white speckled cows.

A hot, stiff breeze blew through the open window of the truck and brought the scent of earth and animals. She parked in front of the house, breathed in the warm air, absorbed the sights and knew she’d finally come home. This was where she wanted to stay. Now, she simply had to convince Cole that she was the wife he needed.

The truck’s door squeaked as she opened it and stepped out of the dusty cab. She fluffed out her loose-fitting skirt that felt sticky against the backs of her thighs from the oppressive heat in Chuck’s non-air-conditioned pickup. Sunshine warmed her shoulders and made her squint as she turned toward the house.

Maybe she should have called first. But then if she had, Cole might have turned her down flat. No, she had a better chance in person. Not that she had much to offer, she thought, in the looks department. She was of average height, but her features had always seemed plain to her. She was too pale and had too many freckles. She’d never measured up to other children at the orphanage who’d been adopted early. Meanwhile, she’d been left waiting…waiting for someone to want her.

Well, she wasn’t going to wait any longer. She’d done her homework by asking questions about Cole Dalton. She’d learned he was a respected rancher in the community. No one had a bad word to say against him. All had confirmed what she’d suspected—he cared deeply for his daughter. What more could she ask for than an honest, upstanding man who loved being a father?

So what if love wasn’t a bargaining chip? She’d realized a long time ago that Prince Charming wasn’t going to ride up and save her. There wasn’t always a perfect situation. She’d take what she could get. If she could get Cole.

She marched up the steps to the house and rang the doorbell. Impatiently she tapped her foot. Her nerves were tangled up like a ball of yarn. What would Cole say when he saw her? Would he laugh at her audacity? Would he turn her away? Her insides twisted and knotted, but she squared her shoulders. She’d been rejected before. If Cole laughed at her now, it wouldn’t kill her.

“Hello.” The voice came from behind her, and she swung around to find Cole at the bottom of the steps.

Her gaze stuck to his sweat-slicked bare chest. His rock-hard, suntanned muscles gleamed in the sunlight as if he were a marble statue. But she knew he was flesh and blood. She’d felt his electric touch the week before. Now she couldn’t stop staring at the play of muscles along his chest. Her mouth went bone dry, and she couldn’t have swallowed to save her life.

Casually, he leaned against a white-painted post. With his thumb he tipped his cowboy hat backwards on his head, framing his face with shadows and sunlight. Slowly her gaze slid down the length of him. He wore tight-fitting faded jeans and a pair of scuffed boots. At that moment she began to doubt the wisdom of coming here.

“Elise?” he asked, his voice crisp as an early morning chill.

She nodded, feeling as if the heat had zapped her ability to think or speak. Her purse slipped off her shoulder, and she grabbed for it. Twisting the strap around her fingers and cutting off the circulation, she hoped blood would rush back to her brain and she’d be able to answer his simple question. “Hi.”

His mouth remained firm and unmoving.

She scuffed the soles of her shoes against the porch planks. What am I doing here? The silence echoed between them. Cole lifted his Stetson, ran his fingers through his thick brown hair and then lowered the brim. It shaded his eyes and thoughts from her, unnerving her even more.

She had to get a firm grip on herself and take charge. “I came about the ad.”

Cole’s silence weighed heavily on her. He crossed his arms over his chest, making his shoulders appear as wide as the Texas landscape.

She swallowed the last of her pride. “Have you sent it to the papers yet?”

“Nope.”

“Good. I mean, uh…” Her thoughts became scrambled beneath the heat of his gaze. “I have an idea that you might want to consider. That is, if you’re still interested.”

He gave a slow nod. “It’s warm today.” He ran his hand down his chest. Sweat clung to his skin, making it shimmer in the sunlight.

Her pulse skittered.

“I could probably hunt us up something cool to drink. Come on in.”

“Sure.” She clasped her purse at her waist, feeling as awkward as a girl about to ask a boy to a Sadie Hawkins dance. “That’d be nice.”

He walked up the steps in a slow, sauntering way that only a cowboy could manage. He pushed open the door and nodded for her to enter ahead of him. Doffing his hat, he hung it on a peg inside the door.

It took a moment for Elise’s eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dimness inside the house. Then her mouth opened with surprise. The entryway was wide and spacious—nothing fancy, but homey in a country-fashioned way, with warm colors of wheat fields and sunlit green pastures.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll go throw on a shirt.” He gave her a sheepish expression that caused a new heat wave to roll through her. “I wasn’t expecting company. I was working down at the barn when I saw you drive up in…was that Chuck’s Ford?”

Unable to formulate an answer, much less speak, she nodded. Her boss had let her borrow his truck a couple of times when she’d had doctor appointments. And he’d let her borrow it again today. No questions asked.

“I’ll be right back.” He turned and then pointed. “The kitchen’s right through there.”

Trying to forget the sight of his muscled back and the width of his shoulders, Elise turned in the way he’d pointed. She walked through a wood-paneled living area, complete with a beige sofa and television console. She glimpsed a wall of photographs but resisted the temptation to study them closely and went on, into the kitchen.

It was a sunny, cozy nook, with white-painted cabinets, clean counters and colorful pictures that Cole’s daughter must have drawn stuck on the refrigerator. He’d described his home accurately—nothing elaborate, but tastefully decorated and downright homey. Her chest clenched with need and hope.

When she heard the sound of Cole’s approaching footsteps, his boots clomping against the hardwood floors, she greeted him with a smile and a cold glass of ice water. “Since you’ve been working, I thought you might be thirsty.”

“Thanks,” he said, offering her a restrained smile in return. He downed the water in a few greedy gulps. The muscles along his throat mesmerized her. She had to shake off his effect on her. She wasn’t interested in marrying Cole because of his obvious good looks. She simply wanted a home. Needed one. And if it came with a handsome husband, well, so much the better.

Together, they settled at the kitchen table. Cole straddled a chair and rested his elbows on the wooden table’s edge. Elise sat demurely across from him, crossing her ankles, folding her hands tightly in her lap.

After he downed a second glass of water, he scratched his brow thoughtfully. “Did you think of something else we should add?”

Panic arched through her. Oh, God! What if he doesn’t think I’m the right type to be a wife? Like Rusty. What if Cole doesn’t believe I’m good enough to be a mother to his daughter?

Her heart pounded with dread. But she ignored the doubts spinning through her head. She wasn’t going to sit back and wait as she’d done her whole life. She had to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and get on with her life, make a future for herself. Here was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

“No, I think the copy for the ad was just right. In fact, it was so perfect, that I started thinking…” She swallowed the hard lump in her throat.

“About…?” His steady gaze made her stomach flutter.

“About…” Her voice squeaked. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “That I might…that maybe you’d consider…” Oh, God, she was bungling this for sure. “I’d like to volunteer—” she gritted her teeth and forced herself to say the words that were sticking in her throat “—to be your mail-order bride.”

Elise could hear the blood pumping through her veins, echoing in her ears. Her face burned. She wished she could sink right through the floor. She felt like she was seven years old again, standing before a couple who’d come to look her over—who’d given the slight shake of their heads that she didn’t measure up. She wasn’t good enough to be their daughter.

A sharp need sliced through her heart. She wanted to bolt right out of her chair and race for Chuck’s pickup before she suffered the same humiliation by Cole. But she planted her feet firmly on the floor. Not this time. This time it was too important. This time it wasn’t just her pride, it was her life on the line. She clenched her hands into fists and lifted her chin, defying him to laugh at her.

But he didn’t. Instead, Cole eased back in his chair, clasping his hands over his taut abdomen. His blue eyes narrowed to slits. “Why?”

“Why?” she repeated, uncertainty invading her once again. She shifted in her seat, recrossed her ankles, clutched her hands together, trying to stop the trembling inside her.

He tapped his thumbs together with a slow, deliberate beat, as if counting the seconds, making her heart race. “Why would you be interested in living here, way out in the country, mothering a child you don’t know? Marrying a man you don’t love?”

She found her voice and a new strength inside her that she hadn’t known existed before now. “It’s simple.” Or so she’d thought at one time. “I’m pregnant.”