Книга - In the Rancher’s Arms

In the Rancher's Arms
Kathie DeNosky


Hard-headed rancher Eli Laughlin knows e-mail order bride Victoria has lied about having ranching experience.The pre-nup has given Eli a month to get acquainted with intoxicatingly lovely Victoria before finalising their marriage, but Eli’s having a hell of a time reining in his desire. And whatever Tori’s hiding seems inconsequential when every cell in his body aches to make Tori his.










“I want you, Tori…

“I want to take you upstairs to my bed and spend the entire night getting to know you the way a husband knows his wife.”

“I know it’s probably too soon…but I want you, too,” Tori said, sounding delightfully breathless. “But there’s something I need to…tell you.”

“What’s that, honey?” Eli asked.

“I don’t know what the protocol is for a situation like this, since I’ve never—”

“You’ve never made love before?” He wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly.

“No, but that isn’t—”

“You’re a virgin?” Eli’s heart stalled.

“Yes.”

A surge of heat flowed throughout his body. Capturing her lips in a kiss that left them both gasping for breath, he pulled her up from the couch. Taking her by the hand, he started toward the stairs.

“We should probably discuss something first,” she said, sounding a little hesitant.

“I don’t want you to worry, honey,” he said, kissing her when they reached the top of the stairs. “We have all night.”

He kissed her again. “And if there’s something else you think we need to talk about, it can wait until later. Right now, I’m going to make love to my wife.”




About the Author


KATHIE DENOSKY lives in her native southern Illinois on the land her family settled in 1839. She writes highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor; her books have appeared on the USA TODAY bestseller list and received numerous awards, including two National Reader’s Choice Awards. Kathie enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. Readers may contact her by emailing kathie@kathiedenosky.com. They can also visit her website, www.kathiedenosky.com, or find her on Facebook, www.facebook.com/Kathie-DeNosky-Author/278166445536145.




In the Rancher’s Arms

Kathie DeNosky





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)






This book is dedicated to my son Bryan

and his lovely wife, Nicole, who met online

and found their own happily-ever-after.


WANTED: Intelligent, well-educated, single female with high morals and good character, age 25–35, for immediate marriage to a Wyoming cattle rancher. Must have ranching experience, know how to ride a horse and want children. Only qualified applicants need apply. If interested, email: rancher_254@thehitchingpost.com




One


“Do you, Victoria Anderson, take Eli Laughlin to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health?”

Reverend Watkins droned on, but Victoria couldn’t have said whether the man recited the sacred words of the wedding vows or if he were trying to auction off a pile of manure. She was far too nervous to concentrate on anything but the ruggedly handsome, dark-haired stranger standing next to her—the very one whom she would pledge herself to within the next few seconds.

When the rotund little minister cleared his throat and gave her an expectant look, she swallowed the panic threatening to choke her. “I do,” she murmured, her voice surprisingly steady, considering the state of her nerves.

The good reverend turned to her almost-husband and repeated his question, but Victoria heard none of the words. Two short hours ago, Eli Laughlin had been nothing more than a few long-distance phone calls and a half dozen or so email messages. In fact, during the course of their brief acquaintance, they hadn’t even bothered to exchange pictures.

Not that it would have made a difference in her decision to marry him—it wouldn’t have. There just weren’t a lot of options for a down-on-her-luck heiress with less than five hundred dollars to her name and several death threats hanging over her head.

But she fervently wished they had at least discussed physical characteristics. It might have lessened her shock when Eli met her at the airport in Cheyenne. She wasn’t sure how she had expected him to look, but she knew beyond a shadow of doubt, nothing could have prepared her for the reality of the man she had traveled over eighteen hundred miles to marry.

Of course, if she hadn’t been so distracted by the hurried preparations and the urgent need to leave Charlotte, she might have taken a hint from the sound of his voice. She had always heard of someone having bedroom eyes, but Eli Laughlin had a bedroom voice. Smooth and deep, his voice could—as her nanny used to say—charm the bloomers off an old maid. The first time he had called to interview her, just the sound of it had caused goose bumps to shimmer up and down her arms and her pulse to flutter erratically. It stood to reason nature wouldn’t have bestowed that kind of voice on a scrawny little wimp.

Victoria glanced up at him from beneath her lashes—way up. When they had discussed their arrangement, she hadn’t given his size a second thought, hadn’t considered it would matter. She had been more concerned with convincing him that she met his list of qualifications, and listening to him outline his reasons for treating the marriage like a business agreement. But now?

The man was well over six feet tall, had the broadest shoulders she had ever seen and every time he moved, the most fascinating bulges pulled at the fabric of his chambray shirt. From her vantage point, he looked like a giant and a well muscled one at that.

Her gaze traveled to his face. Weren’t men who spent the majority of their time outdoors supposed to have skin like leather? The only wrinkles Eli had were the faint creases fanning the corners of his dark brown eyes and the laugh lines bracketing his mouth.

“I do.” The sound of him responding to the minister jolted her back to reality.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Wyoming, I pronounce you husband and wife,” Reverend Watkins said cheerfully. “Son, you may kiss your bride now.”

Surely Eli wasn’t going to kiss her, she thought as she stared up at her new husband. They had met in person only a few hours ago when he’d picked her up at the airport in Cheyenne. Her pulse sped up when he put his arms around her and started to lower his head.

The feel of his firm lips when his mouth covered hers, and the sense of being completely surrounded by the man, sent a shiver of awareness up her spine. It wasn’t a lingering kiss, more of a little peck really. But when he released her and took a step back, the brief contact had been enough to convince her that he was more man than she had known in all of her twenty-six years.

A moment of panic seized her. What on earth had she gotten herself into?

But remembering the prenuptial agreement, especially the part outlining a one-month “get acquainted” phase, she began to relax a bit. The marriage would remain in name only unless both parties agreed to waive the clause and consummate the union before the end of the specified four weeks.

“Congratulations to both of you,” Blake Hartwell said, brushing Eli aside to hug her.

On the hour’s drive from the airport to his attorney’s office in Eagle Fork to sign the prenuptial agreement, Eli had explained that the wedding ceremony would take place at Blake’s grandmother’s house as soon as the document was signed. Eli and Blake had been best friends since they met in grade school. He and his grandmother, Jean Hartwell, would be their witnesses to the marriage.

As Blake wrapped her in a bear hug, she realized he was every bit as tall and muscular as her new husband. She briefly wondered if all the men in Wyoming were as large and intimidating as the two she had met thus far.

“Thank you,” Victoria murmured as he turned her loose to shake Eli’s hand.

Everything was happening so fast she felt overwhelmed by it all. Her first trip to Wyoming, the wedding and the fact that with a few quietly spoken words she had once again changed her surname were almost more than she could take in. It was surreal to think that in a little less than four months she had gone from being Victoria Bardwell to being Victoria Anderson and now Victoria Laughlin.

“Thanks for your help,” Eli said as she abandoned her disturbing thoughts in favor of watching the exchange between him and his friend. “I appreciate you and Grandma Jean standing up with us on such short notice.”

“Glad to do it,” Blake said, grinning.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. It’s not every day one of my boys gets hitched,” Jean Hartwell said. Shouldering her grandson out of the way, she hugged Eli. “You treat this little girl right, you hear?” Turning to Victoria, she grinned. “You got a real good boy here. But if he does give you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll straighten him out in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

“I’ll remember that, Mrs. Hartwell,” Victoria said, smiling. She wondered what the Hartwells thought of her and Eli’s unorthodox marriage, but if they had any objections they kept their opinions to themselves. They had shown her nothing but kindness and made her feel as if their wedding was like any other marriage ceremony witnessed by close friends.

“You’re married to one of my boys now,” the woman said, kissing Victoria’s cheek. “Call me Grandma Jean.” Turning to the minister, she asked, “Would you like to join us for some refreshments, Preacher?”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay, Jean,” the man said, smiling as he walked toward the front door. “I have to drive down to the hospital in Cheyenne to see a member of the congregation who came down with pneumonia.”

After seeing Reverend Watkins out, Blake’s grandmother motioned for them to follow her. “I’ve got a wedding cake and some of my best elderberry wine waiting for you two in the dining room. I know you’ll want to get on the road before too long, so we’d better get to celebrating.”

Eli watched his new wife follow Grandma Jean out of the room and wondered what the hell he had been thinking when he chose Victoria Anderson to be his wife. She wasn’t anything like the woman he had been looking for when he placed his advertisement on the Hitching Post website. He had been looking for a woman who could help out with ranch work and eventually bear him a son to carry on the legacy of the Rusty Spur Ranch. But he would bet his next breath that his new wife had never worked a day in her life, much less on a ranch.

“You’re the only son of a gun I know who could fall in a pile of manure and come out smelling like a rose.” Blake’s tone was low and quiet and Eli assumed his friend didn’t want the women to hear him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning.

“When you posted your ad on that rancher’s dating website, you made it sound more like you were looking for a female hired hand instead of a wife,” Blake said, laughing. “I wouldn’t have given you a plugged nickel for your chances of finding any woman to take you up on an offer that sounded about as romantic as a trip to the dentist. But I’ll be damned if you didn’t end up with the prom queen!”

As his friend slapped him on the back and followed the women into the dining room, Eli had to admit that in the looks department, he had hit a home run when he chose Victoria. Her long, golden-brown hair complemented her lightly tanned complexion, and she had the most expressive violet eyes he had ever seen.

Unfortunately, beauty hadn’t been one of his criteria for a suitable wife. He had wanted a woman who understood the daily operation of a ranch the size of the Rusty Spur and could pitch in to help if the need arose. And she had assured him she had the experience he had been looking for. But one look at his new wife’s designer clothes and her delicate, perfectly manicured hands signing the marriage license, and he had known for certain that her claim to be knowledgeable of any kind of farm or ranch work was a total myth.

He had suspected as much the first time he called to interview her, but he chose her anyway over several other, more qualified respondents for one simple reason. Her soft Southern drawl caused his pulse to race. In hindsight, he probably should have been thinking with his head and not his hormones. But at the time, he had reasoned that if they were eventually going to have a child together it probably wouldn’t hurt to find his wife desirable. What he hadn’t anticipated was his reaction when he saw her for the first time.

He had always thought that having a woman rob a man of breath was just a line in a song or a novel. But that was the only way to describe what had happened to him when she stepped off the plane in Cheyenne. At first sight, he’d sucked in a sharp breath and he wasn’t sure he had released it even yet.

“Eli Laughlin, stop standing there like a moon-eyed calf and get in here to help your bride cut the wedding cake,” Grandma Jean said from the doorway of the dining room.

Grateful for a diversion from his disturbing thoughts, Eli smiled at the woman who was grandmother to all of her grandson’s friends. “Yes, ma’am. On my way.”

When he entered the room, Victoria was standing behind a three-tiered cake sitting on one end of the dining table. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

Walking over to stand beside her, he tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Are you doing all right?”

She nodded. “It was very sweet of Mrs. Hartwell to go to all this trouble. I didn’t expect a cake….” Pausing, she looked directly at him and laughed. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t know what I expected.”

Her nervous laughter and the vulnerability she couldn’t quite hide caused an unexpected emotion to spread throughout his chest. For reasons he couldn’t even begin to understand, Victoria Anderson-Laughlin brought out a protectiveness in him that Eli hadn’t even known he possessed.

He told himself that it was because she was pretty, petite and delicately feminine—the type of woman who made a man feel like a man. But the fact was she was his wife and she carried his name now. For some reason that upped the ante. It was his job to protect her and it came as no small surprise how quickly the feeling had settled over him.

Eli took a deep breath. He must be losing it. Hell, they hadn’t been married more than ten minutes and he was already thinking like a husband?

Emotions like that were something he had tried to avoid and approaching their marriage as a business deal, he thought he had done that. Apparently, he had underestimated the sense of responsibility that came along with having a wife.

“Okay, you two. Give me a big smile,” Blake said, holding up a digital camera. He motioned toward Victoria. “Put your arms around your wife, dude. This is your official wedding photo.”

If Eli could have reached over the cake to choke his best friend, he would have. Blake knew that he and Victoria were little more than strangers. But being thrown in jail on his wedding day for throttling the best man probably wasn’t a good idea, Eli decided as he put his arms around her. He would just have to settle the score with Blake later.

When he pulled her to him, Victoria placed her hand on his chest and the warmth of her palm through his shirt felt damned good. Maybe too good. The prenuptial agreement they signed had a clause that stated they would refrain from having sex for a period of four weeks in order to get to know each other and find out if they were compatible. He took a deep breath. If the magnetic pull between them was as strong as he was beginning to suspect, he was in for a miserable month of bone-chilling showers and a hell of a lot of frustration.

The camera flashed and just as Eli was about to release her, Blake grinned. “Now give your bride a kiss. I missed getting a picture of it during the ceremony.”

Eli wasn’t entirely certain all the pictures were a good idea. What if, after their month of getting to know each other, they decided they weren’t a good match and the marriage was annulled?

“Oh, yes, you’ll want a picture of your wedding kiss,” Grandma Jean chimed in.

Gazing down at the woman in his arms, Eli could read every emotion in the crystalline depths of her violet eyes. Victoria was as surprised this time as she had been when the minister told him he could kiss her after pronouncing them husband and wife. She hadn’t expected him to observe the ritual then, and truth to tell, he hadn’t intended to. But something about the way she had looked at him throughout the brief ceremony had compelled him to stick to tradition. The way she was gazing up at him now was having the same effect.

Without giving it a second thought, Eli lowered his head to cover her mouth with his. He told himself he was kissing Victoria because refusing would have created an awkward situation. Deep down, he knew better. He wanted to kiss her again, needed to see if his first impression had been correct.

The moment their lips met, he knew for certain that his assessment of the brief kiss they’d shared following their vows had been right on the money. Victoria had the softest, sweetest lips he’d ever had the privilege to kiss. The thought of what they’d do if things worked out between them sent his temperature soaring.

When his body began to tighten, Eli quickly broke the contact and took a step back. To his satisfaction, his bride looked as dazed by this kiss as she had the first one. Unless he missed his guess, she was feeling the same chemistry between them that he was.

“Perfect,” Blake said, grinning like the damned Cheshire cat. “One more of you two cutting the cake and I’ll be done for now.”

“What do you mean, ‘for now’?” Eli asked, scowling. Blake had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, but the man was pushing the limits of his patience.

Blake’s grin widened as he rocked back on his heels. “I’ll have to get at least one picture of Grandma throwing rice at the two of you and then another of you and your beautiful bride driving away to start your new life together on the Rusty Spur.”

Eli ground his back teeth. Blake was having way too much fun at his expense.

After they cut the white cake with little pink flowers on it, fed each other a bite and toasted with a glass of Grandma Jean’s homemade wine, Eli checked his watch. “Thanks for everything, but I think it’s time we get on the road. We have a two-hour drive to get to the ranch, and Buck will pitch a fit if he has to reheat supper.”

“You tell that old goat the next time he comes into town I have a bone to pick with him about refusing to be here for this,” Grandma Jean said as she put on her coat and walked out the door. Her disapproval was evident in her stern expression. “He should have been here to see you tie the knot, and I’m going to tell him so.” She turned suddenly and held up her hand. “Wait until Blake gets ready with the camera before you start down the porch steps. And be careful. He shoveled most of the snow off the walk, but there’s still a couple of slick spots.”

“Thanks for the warning.” When Grandma Jean walked out of the house, Eli helped Victoria into her coat, then shrugged into his. “I had Blake go out a little earlier to start my truck and turn on the heater. It should be warm inside the cab now.”

“That was thoughtful of you.” Her smile sent a wave of heat spreading through his chest that he did his best to ignore. “And thank you for introducing me to your friends. I’ve really enjoyed meeting them. They’re very nice.”

“Well, Grandma Jean is, anyway,” Eli said, jamming his wide-brimmed Resistol onto his head.

“How often do you get to see them?” she asked.

“I make it down here several times in the spring and summer, but after it starts snowing in late fall, I usually don’t see them until the next spring,” he said as they walked out onto the front porch. “My dad and Blake’s dad were best friends and when I was young. I used to stay with them during the winter months so I could go to school.” When he caught sight of his truck, he stopped short. “Son of a…”

Blake had apparently decided to do a little decorating when he went out to start the engine. Just Married had been scrawled across the back glass with white shoe polish, and a big white paper bell had been attached to the tailgate.

“I see you’ve been busy,” Eli said. He cupped Victoria’s elbow with his hand and they descended the steps.

“I take the job of being best man very seriously,” Blake said, laughing. He clicked off several pictures as his grandmother threw handfuls of rice at them. “Part of that job is to decorate the groom’s wheels.”

“I’ll get you for doing all of this,” Eli said under his breath as Grandma Jean stopped throwing rice to hug Victoria.

Blake laughed like a damned hyena. “I never doubted for a minute that you wouldn’t, dude.”

When they reached the truck, Eli opened the passenger door for his new wife, but instead of helping her step up onto the running board to climb into the cab, he swung her up into his arms. She brought her arms up automatically to encircle his neck and he found himself surrounded by the light scent of her enticing perfume.

“Wh-why did you do that?” she asked, wide-eyed and sounding a little breathless.

“There’s a patch of ice where you were about to step and I didn’t want you to fall,” he said as he set her down on the front seat.

She frowned. “I don’t remember it being there when we arrived.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t.” Shutting the door, he turned and narrowed his eyes on Blake. “You thought of putting some water on the running board when you decorated my truck?”

Blake’s unrepentant grin had Eli questioning his choice of best friends. “Yup. I had to figure out some way to get a picture of you picking up your bride, since I won’t be there to get a shot of you carrying her across the threshold.”

“What if I hadn’t seen the ice and Victoria fell?” Eli asked through clenched teeth.

“Hey, dude, I know you better than you know yourself.” Blake shrugged. “Living out there in no-man’s-land, you have to be overly cautious. I knew you’d see the ice before you helped her into the truck.”

“You had better hope I forget about all this before you find some little gal naive enough to marry your worthless hide,” Eli warned. “Just remember, payback can be a real kick in the ass when you’re on the receiving end.”

“Since I have no intention of getting married, you’re preaching to the choir, dude,” Blake said, laughing. “You’re going to have a long time to wait for your revenge.”

“I’m a patient man,” Eli said, waving as he walked around the truck. “See you in the spring.”

When they stopped by the feed store at the edge of Eagle Fork for Eli to buy some supplies to feed a couple of “bucket babies,” whatever they were, Victoria waited in the truck. So much had happened in the span of a few hours. From the time she stepped off the plane she’d been caught up in a whirlwind of activity. Now that things seemed to have quieted down and she had time to reflect, she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

Staring down at her left hand, the simple gold band Eli had slid onto her finger during their wedding ceremony solidified her transition from life in the lap of luxury to her new role of being the wife of a hardworking rancher. But that didn’t bother her. As far as she was concerned, money or the lack thereof was a minor wrinkle in the grand scheme of things. In fact, if she never rubbed elbows with the wealthy again, it would be all too soon. She had learned the hard way that when her bank account dwindled down to nothing, so did her friends.

But none of that mattered. What bothered her more than anything else was knowing she’d traded one loveless existence for another. Of course, legally they had a month to decide whether or not to stay married. But there was no guarantee, even if they chose to stay together, that they would fall in love.

She had hoped that one day she might meet someone who would truly love her unconditionally, but it didn’t look as though that would happen now. In her desperation to leave Charlotte, she’d agreed to the businesslike terms of marrying Eli—a quick solution to her dilemma. And although it wasn’t the fairy-tale beginning that she would have preferred for their relationship, she had every intention of trying to make their marriage work. She had given her word and that was something she tried never to break.

Sighing, she stared out the passenger window. Most people who were unlucky in love could take consolation in the love they received from their parents as a measure of their self-worth and importance. All she had to look back on was a barely tolerated existence by her father.

She gazed at the surrounding mountains as she swallowed around the huge lump clogging her throat. Her birth had taken her mother’s life, and John Bardwell had never been able to forgive her. Now that he was gone, there was no chance of him ever forgiving her. Not that she thought that would have ever happened. She hadn’t. But with his death, even the slightest possibility of that eventuality had been buried along with him.

Of course, she’d had her nanny—a woman her father paid to raise her. Nanny Marie had cared deeply for her. Victoria had no doubt about that. But it wasn’t the same as a mother’s love. To Marie Gentry, Victoria had represented a job and a way to escape the poverty she had grown up in.

“Is something wrong?” Eli asked as he got back into the truck.

Lost in thought, she hadn’t noticed his return. “I’m just a little tired,” she lied, shaking her head. “I think the time difference must be catching up with me.”

“Why don’t you put your head back and take a nap?” he suggested. “There’s plenty of time. We have a two-hour drive to get to the Rusty Spur.”

“I doubt I could sleep.” She pointed to the mountains in front of them. “I don’t want to miss this view. It’s breathtaking.”

He gave her an odd look. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Nodding, she released a bit of the tension she had felt since her arrival. “I think it’s beautiful here. I find the mountains absolutely fascinating and everything around me looks like it could be on a Christmas card.”

“You don’t think you’ll mind all this snow?” His tone was conversational, but she could tell he had more than a little interest in her answer.

“Not at all.” Smiling, she continued to gaze at the snow-covered landscape. “We rarely get snow in Charlotte and when we do, there isn’t very much and it doesn’t last more than a day or so.”

“If you’ll remember, I told you the Rusty Spur is in a pretty remote valley,” he warned. “There are times in the winter that we get snowed in for a week or two at a time. You don’t think you’ll mind that?”

“Not as long as I can get out and build a snowman occasionally.” Her smile faded. One of the things he had warned her about during their first phone conversation had been how isolated the ranch was and how much snow the area got during the winter months. “But we discussed this the first time you called to interview me. Didn’t you believe me when I told you I wouldn’t mind it?”

To her surprise, he reached over to cover her hand with his. “It’s one thing to talk about what it would be like to be snowed in. You might feel differently about it when you’re actually in that situation, Tori.”

Her hand tingled from the contact and she could have sworn her heart skipped a beat. Deciding to ignore the excitement coursing through her from his touch, she focused on his shortening of her name. “No one has ever called me anything but Victoria,” she said, thoughtfully.

“Do you mind me calling you Tori?” he asked. His smile increased the warmth spreading through her.

It seemed only fitting that she have a new name for her new life, even if it was just a variation of her given name. “I don’t mind at all. In fact, I like it,” she said decisively. “It’s less formal.”

His hand continuing to engulf hers and the feel of his calloused palm against her much smoother skin caused an interesting little flutter to begin deep in the pit of her stomach. She tried to ignore it, but it suddenly felt as if the spacious cab of the truck got quite a bit smaller.

“I know I won’t mind the weather, but don’t you think it’s a bit late for you to be second-guessing me?” she asked.

He seemed to consider her question a moment before he finally nodded. “I just want to be sure you know what you’ve signed on for.”

She didn’t want to tell him that no matter what she had gotten herself into, she hadn’t had any other options. Nor did she feel ready to discuss her father and the disgrace the Bardwell name had suffered because of his poor decisions. She had even been forced to have her surname legally changed to Anderson—her mother’s maiden name—when she started getting death threats.

If they were going to stay together, at some point she would have to tell Eli everything. But she had a month to find the right way to do that. And if they decided to go their separate ways, he would never need to know that for months she had been followed night and day by investigative reporters. He’d never need to understand the desperation that had driven her to marry a stranger or the guilt she would harbor for the rest of her life.

She took a deep breath. Watching your father cause the financial downfall of hundreds of his clients and lose his financial-consulting firm because of it wasn’t something she was comfortable discussing with someone she barely knew. She had told him that her father died of a heart attack, but he didn’t need to know that stress was the cause.

“Don’t worry about me. If I wasn’t certain of what I’m doing, I wouldn’t be here.” She covered a yawn with her hand. “Maybe I will try to sleep a little. Please wake me when we get close to the ranch. The way you described it when we spoke over the phone, I’d love for my first glimpse of the valley to be from the top of the ridge.”

“I will,” he said, giving her a smile that curled her toes inside her new fur-lined snow boots.

She wasn’t entirely certain she was comfortable with feeling so attracted to her new husband so soon. It could be a plus if their marriage worked. It could spell heartache for her if it didn’t.

When Tori closed her eyes and tried to relax, she decided it would be in her best interest not to dwell on that right now. She had other, more important concerns.

If and when she did tell Eli about her father and her part in the scandal, how would he react to learning that he had married the pariah of Charlotte society? Would he understand that in her desperation to get as far away from the shame and humiliation that she had been driven to search online for an area of the country where the Bardwell name wasn’t as well-known?

Even though she held a master’s degree in financial planning and had been cleared of any involvement in the illegal transactions conducted at the now-defunct Bardwell Investments Agency, no one in the financial industry would hire her. She just hoped that Eli could overlook the fact that she hadn’t exactly been honest with him. And that he had married the daughter of the man who had helped to create the nation’s biggest financial fiasco in recent history.




Two


When he stopped his truck at the top of the ridge overlooking his ranch, Eli glanced over at his new wife. Tori had fallen asleep almost as soon as she’d closed her eyes, but it hadn’t been a restful nap. Several times during the past hour and a half, she had whimpered and murmured something. He hadn’t been able to understand what she said, but whatever it was it must have been extremely upsetting. He had even considered waking her when a tear escaped the corner of her eye to run down her smooth cheek. But she had seemed to rest peacefully after that, so he had let her be.

As he continued to watch her sleep, he couldn’t help but marvel at how alluring she was. He hadn’t anticipated that, or the protectiveness that seemed to accompany the pronouncement by the good reverend that she was his wife. Both were feelings he had hoped to avoid.

He had thought by advertising for a bride, listing his specific requirements and making his choice from the qualified applicants, he would remove the possibility of any kind of romantic entanglement. He had learned the hard way that when an emotional attachment was involved, it clouded a man’s judgment.

And truth to tell, after talking to her the first time, he had decided that she wasn’t suitable, and moved on to interview other, more qualified women. But each time he ended a conversation with one of them, his thoughts kept straying back to his phone call to Tori. There had been something about her soft, Southern voice as she told him about her time on the family farm that compelled him to choose her, instead of using his head to select one of the more obvious candidates to be his bride.

Now he had a beautiful wife who he would bet everything he owned had no experience at all with livestock. What she did have were the softest lips he’d ever had the privilege to kiss, as well as a voice that set his pulse to racing each time he heard it.

“So much for keeping a romantic attraction out of the equation, genius,” he muttered to himself.

Not at all comfortable with the direction his thoughts were taking, he decided to analyze his reaction to his new wife a bit later. He lightly touched her shoulder. “Tori, we’re home.”

Her long dark lashes fluttered once, then opened to reveal her extraordinary violet eyes. His lower body tightened as she gazed up at him. She looked soft, feminine and so damned desirable that he barely resisted the urge to release her seat belt and pull her into his arms.

“We’re here already?” She sat up in the bucket seat. “How long was I asleep?”

“About an hour and a half.” He forced a smile. “You wanted me to wake you when we got to the ridge above the ranch.”

He heard her soft intake of breath and knew the moment she caught sight of the Rusty Spur Ranch in the valley below. He forgot all about his lapse of judgment as a sense of satisfaction filled him at the expression of awe on her pretty face. She was clearly impressed by the size of the operation.

“How big is your ranch?” she asked, her voice filled with amazement.

“You’re looking at the ranch headquarters. There’s about ten thousand acres here and another twenty thousand of pastureland outside of the valley. I also lease another fifteen thousand acres from the Bureau of Land Management.” He pointed to the big log home his great-great-grandfather had built. “That’s where we’ll live, along with Buck. He tends to the house and cooks now that he’s retired from ranch work.”

“It’s gorgeous and so big,” she said, unbuckling the shoulder harness to sit forward for a better look out of the windshield. “I can’t tell from this distance. What are all those buildings behind the house?”

Her almost childlike enthusiasm and questions caused his chest to swell with pride. The Laughlins had settled in the valley over a hundred and twenty five years ago and each generation had made the ranch bigger and better than the last.

He pointed toward the buildings directly behind the house. “Those are the barns. There’s one for the work horses, one for storing grain and hay, another one for ranch trucks, tractors and other equipment. That one we use for treating sick and injured livestock and that big one is where we keep the tractor trailers we use for transporting cattle to market and to some of the farthest pastures.” Pointing to the far side of the valley, he added, “That smaller house over there is where the foreman and his wife live and the bigger one next to it is the bunkhouse where the single men stay.”

“There’ll be a woman I can talk to from time to time?” Tori asked, brightening even more.

“When she has time, you can. Sally Ann is usually pretty busy cooking for the men and she sometimes helps Buck take care of the ranch house when his arthritis is acting up.” He grinned. “She and her husband, Jack, have lived on the ranch for as long as I can remember. I’m sure she’ll enjoy having another woman around after having to deal with men all these years.”

“So she’s a bit older?”

“I don’t know exactly how old she is and I’m for damned sure not going to make the mistake of asking her,” he said, laughing. “But if I had to venture a guess, I’d say she’s somewhere in her early to mid-fifties.”

Tori seemed to digest that a moment before she pointed to the corral and holding pens. “Are those…” She stopped, and he could tell she was searching for the right word. “…corrals?”

“There are a couple of corrals for the horses when we let them out of their stalls for some fresh air and exercise, a round pen for breaking them to ride and about eight holding pens for the cattle,” he explained. “We use those when we bring the heifers in from the pastures at calving time and to separate the stock during roundup.”

As he watched Tori take in the vastness of his ranch, Eli couldn’t help but marvel at the difference between her reaction and the first woman that he’d brought home to see the ranch. That had been ten years ago when he brought his college girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and it had turned out to be the beginning of the end of their relationship.

The woman had taken one look at the remote location and the amount of snow that was already on the ground and hadn’t been able to get back to Los Angeles fast enough. She hadn’t liked the stark beauty of the mountains, didn’t like the smell of the pines surrounding the valley and couldn’t believe anyone would want to live in something as primitive as a log home. Never mind that the house had all the latest conveniences, as well as satellite hookup to television and the internet. She hadn’t even appreciated that at night the stars looked brighter and seemed almost close enough to touch. Or that there were so many they couldn’t be counted. All she could do was complain about how dark it was at night and question why his father didn’t consider selling off the land to a developer. He’d tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, but that was before he found out about her lies and the scheme that would have eventually parted him from a good chunk of the Laughlin fortune.

“How many people live on the Rusty Spur?” Tori asked, bringing him back to the present.

Eli started the truck and began to navigate the snow-packed road leading over the ridge to the valley floor below. “Counting me, you and Buck, there are ten of us that live on the ranch year-round. But during the summer months, I usually hire another five to ten men to help out with cutting and storing hay and mending fences, as well as working during fall roundup.”

“I would have thought you’d need more than that from the size of this place,” she said, her soft voice still filled with amazement.

“Contrary to popular belief we don’t do everything on horseback or we would need more hired hands.”

“Really?”

She sounded almost disappointed and confirmed his suspicion that she had little, if any, knowledge of how a modern ranch or farm operated. But he wasn’t going to call attention to the fact. For one thing, they were already married—he had taken the plunge and planned to give it a shot. And for another, he wanted to see just how long it was going to take before she admitted that she knew nothing about rural life and what excuse she was going to give him for misrepresenting herself.

Her false claims might have been cause for concern, were it not for the iron-clad prenup they had signed before the wedding ceremony. That was his insurance. It not only protected his assets—the one-month get-acquainted period also gave him the time to figure out why she had answered his ad when she clearly wasn’t qualified, as well as why he couldn’t seem to bring himself to confront her about it.

“We use pickup trucks and four-wheel ATVs for a lot of the things that we used to have to do on horseback,” he explained, noticing that she was paying extremely close attention to what he said. “But we do ride horses to move some of the herds to the summer pastures in the upper elevations. Most of those are areas that can’t be reached on wheels.”

“Herds?” She looked intrigued. “How many cows do you have?”

He laughed out loud. “I have four herds of cattle—two of registered Hereford and two of Black Angus. And since we raise our own working stock, I have a herd of quarter horses, as well.”

“I meant cattle.” Her cheeks colored a pretty pink and he knew she realized she had slipped up.

When he stopped the truck at the side of the house, Eli got out to open the passenger door. Placing his hands at her waist, he lifted her down from the truck. He had no idea why he kept picking her up, other than the fact that he liked the way she felt in his arms.

After he set her on her feet, she continued to hold on to his biceps as she stared up at him. It took monumental effort on his part to keep from drawing her to him for another kiss. “Why don’t you go on inside out of the cold while I get your luggage?” he finally asked.

She stared at him a moment longer before nodding and turning to walk up the steps.

As he watched her cross the back porch to open the door, Eli exhaled, then took in a deep breath of sharp winter air. Why was he so damned turned on by Tori? She had clearly lied to him about her qualifications when she applied to be his wife. But the strangest part was that he didn’t mind. Somehow it didn’t seem nearly as important to him that the woman he chose be able to help around the ranch as it had been when he’d posted the ad online.

Reaching into the bed of the truck, he pulled out the two suitcases he had placed there when he’d picked her up at the airport, and started toward the house. There was something about Tori—a vulnerability, and quite possibly even a desperation—that had him overlooking her deception and making him want to shelter her from whatever she was running from. And he had no doubt there was something that compelled her to dive headfirst into the uncertainty of being an email-order bride.

Why else would a beautiful woman, who was obviously born and bred to a more genteel life—a woman who could easily have just about any man she set her sights on—answer an online ad to marry a stranger and live on a remote ranch in the mountains of Wyoming?

He had a basic background check run on all of the applicants before starting the interview process and nothing had turned up in Tori’s that had raised a red flag. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t something there and luckily he knew exactly whom to contact if he decided he needed to know more. Blake’s older brother, Sean, had been an FBI agent for years before retiring to open his own private-investigation agency. One phone call was all it would take and within a week or so, he would know all about Tori.

Then, with whatever information Sean Hartwell was able to gather on her, he could decide if he wanted to try to make the marriage work or have it annulled and resume his search for a suitable wife.

As Tori walked toward the house, she chastised herself for her slipups. Since the FBI had confiscated her laptop, she’d had to make a special trip to the library to do extensive research on the Western way of life and the terminology used on a ranch. Calling a herd of cattle “cows” was the kind of mistake she couldn’t afford to make again. Otherwise, Eli would realize she was a fraud and send her back to Charlotte faster than she could blink.

Glancing up at the Welcome to Our Home sign beside the back door, she sighed. It reminded her that she no longer had a home to go back to. Her father was dead, his business no longer existed and her so-called friends had abandoned her at the first sign of the scandal. If that hadn’t been enough to convince her to change her name and relocate, the death threats from some of her father’s former clients had. Even though she hadn’t been involved in any of his illegal practices, her last name alone had been enough to incite hatred in people who didn’t know her.

Then there was the matter of supporting herself. Her name was a huge strike against her, of course. But the fact that she had worked at her father’s agency kept anyone in the banking-and-investments industry from considering her for a job, even though she had actually been instrumental in bringing down his house of cards.

With exactly four hundred and seventy-two dollars between herself and living in a cardboard box beneath a bridge, not to mention the chilling threats to her life, she’d had no other choice. She hadn’t wanted to tell Eli so many fibs, but when she stumbled across his online ad while searching for an area of the country that might be safe, she had not only been intrigued, she had been desperate. Even her condo and car, which had been owned by the Bardwell Investments Agency, were about to be confiscated by the authorities to be sold in order to help with the reimbursement of her father’s clients. Within a few weeks, she would have been homeless and with no means of transportation to go elsewhere.

Opening the door, she walked into a small mudroom and looked around. A built-in log bench had been constructed along one wall with cubbyholes beneath for boots and shoes. When she glanced at the opposite wall, she had to smile at the use of horseshoes turned sideways and attached to the wall to create hooks for coats and jackets. It was unlike anything she had seen in Charlotte and was perfect for a rustic Western ranch house.

Slipping off her coat, she hung it on one of the horseshoe hooks and opened the door leading into the kitchen. It amazed her how vastly different decorating preferences were in different areas of the country. Having been raised in a world of elegant antebellum mansions, elaborate cotillions and formal garden parties, she was fascinated by the rustic, down-to-earth preferences of residents of the western states. Nothing seemed to go to waste and, considering how frugal she’d had to become in the past few months, that appealed to her.

“You must be Eli’s new bride.”

Lost in thought, the sound of the man’s voice caused her to jump. She looked over to find an older gentleman standing at the stove, stirring a huge pot of something that smelled absolutely wonderful. “Yes, I’m Tori, and you must be Buck.”

“Guilty as charged,” he said, nodding. “Eli gettin’ your things?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Is there anything I can do to help you finish up dinner?”

“Around here we call it supper,” Buck corrected. “But if you’re of a mind to, you could set the table.”

“I’d be happy to do that.” When he pointed to the cabinet where the plates were kept, she asked, “How many places should I set? Three?”

Buck nodded. “Sally Ann feeds the hired hands down at the bunkhouse.”

While Tori set the table, she admired the rustic beauty of the kitchen. The wagon-wheel chandelier hanging over the big round oak table and the plank floor worn smooth over the years made her feel as if she had been transported back to the Old West. As she continued to look around, she marveled at how the river-rock wall behind the stainless-steel stove and the gray-marble countertops complemented the oak cabinets and natural log walls. She wouldn’t have thought the use of nature’s elements would create such a warm and cozy atmosphere, but that was the only way she could think to describe the welcome feeling of the spacious room.

“I’ll take these upstairs and put them with the rest of your things,” Eli said when he brought her luggage in from the truck.

“I meant to ask if my other things had arrived,” she said, smiling. “But the day has been such a blur of activity, I didn’t even think of it.”

He nodded. “I picked up the boxes at the freight company last week when I went down to Eagle Fork to talk to the attorney about our agreement and make arrangements for your arrival.”

A couple of weeks ago, she had shipped most of her clothes and the few mementos the authorities allowed her to keep when her father’s mansion and possessions were auctioned off. It was disheartening to think that her entire life could be reduced to a few shipping crates and a couple of suitcases. But that was the sad truth of the matter.

“Thank you, Eli,” she said, admiring the ease with which he managed the heavy luggage holding the remainder of her clothes. Turning back to Buck, she asked, “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

The old man smiled as he nodded toward the table. “Just have a seat and I’ll dish you up some of the best beef stew you’ve ever had. I’m bettin’ you’re pretty tired and hungry from all that travelin’ you did to get here.”

“It smells wonderful, but I’ll wait for you and Eli to sit down with me,” she said, smiling back.

Buck stared at her for several long seconds. “You’re nothin’ like I pictured you to be,” he finally said, shaking his head.

She wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she asked cautiously.

“It had better be good,” Eli said, walking back into the room. There was a warning tone in his voice and the air suddenly seemed filled with tension as the two men glared at each other.

“Might as well sit down and eat before it gets cold,” Buck finally said, turning to remove some biscuits from the oven.

The hostility between the two men was undeniable, and Tori had a feeling she might be a big part of their problem. Buck probably hadn’t approved of Eli’s method of obtaining a wife.

“Do you want me to give you a few moments?” she asked uncertainly. “I can go upstairs and start unpacking.”

Eli shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.” He held a chair for her, then sat down at the head of the table. “Buck gets this way in the wintertime. He hates being cooped up in the house and figures that if he’s miserable, everyone else should be, too.”

“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here,” Buck snapped as he plunked down a plate of fluffy biscuits on the table, then brought the pot of stew over to start filling their plates. He scowled at Eli a moment before turning to smile at her. “We don’t eat real fancy, but I can guarantee it’s good and there’s plenty of it.”

“It smells wonderful, Buck.” She returned his smile. “I’m sure it’s delicious.”

She wasn’t certain why, but she liked Buck. He might be gruff and extremely blunt, but she could tell by the kindness in his eyes that he was a good person.

“How did things go around here today, Buck?” Eli asked as he passed Tori the plate of biscuits. “Anything I need to take care of?”

“Jack called earlier this afternoon and it looks like that pregnant mare you’ve been watchin’ is gonna foal sometime tonight.” Buck ladled stew onto her plate. “Most of the boys over at the bunkhouse are down with the flu and Jack didn’t sound all that healthy when I talked to him.”

Eli frowned. “Is he with the mare now?”

“Yup. He said he’d stay with her until you got back and could take over,” Buck said, ladling another heaping scoop of stew onto her plate.

Her eyes widened as she stared down at it. Although the stew looked and smelled delicious, she couldn’t possibly eat all of it.

“Excuse me, Buck,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t be offended. When both men stopped talking to turn their attention her way, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to eat all of this.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Eli asked.

“I’m ravenous, but I never eat this much,” she explained.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who doesn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive,” Buck said, his disapproval evident in the lines creasing his forehead.

She pointed to her plate. “I have a very good appetite, but honestly there’s enough here to feed a starving lumberjack.”

Eli laughed. “Eat what you want and leave the rest.”

“I can’t do that,” she said, shaking her head. “That would be wasteful.” She didn’t want to tell him, but in the four months since her father’s downfall and subsequent death, she had learned to be extremely conservative with her resources. Until then, she hadn’t given a second thought to how much food she wasted or how much it cost. Now, as far as she was concerned, throwing food in the garbage was the same as throwing money away.

Both men looked at her with amused expressions a moment before Eli reached for her plate, then handed his empty one to Buck. “I’ll eat this,” he said, grinning. “Just tell him how much you want.”

Tori wasn’t sure what Eli and Buck found so amusing. But it didn’t matter. It seemed to have lessened some of the tension between them and she was happy to have a more relaxed atmosphere while they ate.

As she dined on the most delicious stew she’d ever eaten, she listened to Eli tell Buck how he intended to handle the daily chores while the majority of his hired men were down with the flu. “I’ll take care of checking on the cattle out in the pastures. Do you think you’ll be able to feed the horses?”

Buck looked thoroughly disgusted. “I might be gettin’ older and have a touch of arthritis, but if I can’t handle feedin’ a bunch of hay burners you might as well bury me. Of course I can feed the damned horses.”

“Good. Tori, I’m going to let you take care of mixing up the milk replacer and feeding the bucket babies,” Eli said, turning to look at her.

Apprehension streaked up her spine. She didn’t even know what a “bucket baby” was. Before she could respond, the phone rang and Eli left the table to answer it.

“You don’t have the slightest notion what a ‘bucket baby’ is or what to do with one, do you, gal?” Buck asked, his voice little more than a whisper as he reached over to pat her hand.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she shook her head.

“Don’t worry—I’ll talk you through it,” Buck said, giving her a conspiratorial wink.

“Am I going to be taking care of calves?” she guessed.

He nodded. “I’ll show you how to mix the powdered calf’s milk and the best way to hold the bucket. The calves will do the rest.”

Relieved that she wasn’t going to have to admit that she was a complete fraud her first day on the ranch, she smiled. “I can’t thank you enough, Buck. Please don’t tell Eli that I didn’t know what he was talking about. It’s just that—”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he interrupted, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m going to have to cut supper short,” Eli said, returning to the table. “Jack is sicker than a dog and that mare is getting close to dropping her foal.” He walked over to open the door to the mudroom. “Tori, I’m going to need your help. Change into some work clothes and meet me down at the horse barn as soon as you can. Buck, you’ll need to take care of the calves after you get finished feeding the horses.”

Before she could ask which barn he was talking about, Eli put on his wide-brimmed black hat and walked into the mudroom to get his coat.

“Which barn does he want me to go to?” she asked, hoping Buck knew.

“Go upstairs and get changed, while I take care of puttin’ the rest of this stew in the refrigerator,” Buck said, getting up from the table. “I’ll walk you down there, then I’ll take care of the bucket babies and the horses.”

Hurrying upstairs, Tori wasn’t even sure which room to look in for her clothes, but opening doors along the long hallway at the top of the stairs, she finally found the room where Eli had put her things. Opening her designer luggage, she rummaged through her clothes until she found a pair of jeans. Quickly changing into them, she put on a T-shirt and a sweatshirt over it for warmth. She wasn’t entirely certain she would need the layers of clothing beneath her coat, but it was below freezing outside and she would rather be safe than sorry.

Looking around at her clothes scattered across the bed and the unopened crates, she regretted not being able to unpack and put her things away. But there wasn’t time for that now. Eli needed her to help him and she only hoped she didn’t make any major mistakes.

After she put her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way and pulled her boots back on, she ran down the stairs to find Buck waiting for her by the kitchen door. “Do you have a pair of gloves?” he asked.

“Yes.” When she pulled them from the pocket of her ski jacket, he shook his head.

“Those are too dressy and won’t protect your hands.” He handed her a pair of leather work gloves. “These are more suitable for chores.” He reached up to pull a sock cap on her head to cover her ears. “I’d ask if you have any experience helping a mare give birth, but I already know the answer.”

“No…no, I don’t.” She followed him out of the house into the frigid night air. “I should tell you—”

“Don’t worry about it tonight,” he said as they walked across the yard toward a row of buildings. “You can tell me all about yourself when we have more time.”

When Buck led her through a small door built into one of the much larger ones at the front of the horse barn, she looked around. Stalls lined both sides of the center aisle. The dim light in one of the enclosures at the far end was probably where Eli and the mare were.

“Thanks, Buck,” she said, turning to give him a quick hug.

He patted her shoulder. “Just do everything Eli tells you to do and you’ll do just fine, gal.”

When Tori reached the stall, she found Eli, kneeling beside a mare lying on her side in the straw. The poor animal appeared agitated and in pain.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Move slowly and keep your voice low and even,” he said, removing his coat to lay it aside. He knelt by the mare’s hindquarters and started wrapping the tail with a narrow roll of gauzy-looking fabric. “Sit down by her head and try to calm her while I take care of things at this end.”

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” she said, sitting beside the mare to rub her broad forehead. She wasn’t sure of what she was doing or if it was right, but she was determined to do all she could to help the poor animal.

“I don’t think this will take too long,” he said, sitting back on his heels. “She’s had a couple of foals before this one, but I want to make sure everything goes okay.”

“I can understand why. She’s beautiful.” Tori crooned as she continued to pet the horse. “This is a big moment in your life, isn’t it, girl?”

“I see the front hooves emerging,” he said quietly.

She noticed that he didn’t move to help the mare. “You don’t have to do anything for her?”

“No, she’s doing fine on her own and it’s best to let nature take its course,” he said, sounding distracted. “We’re just here in case she has a problem.”

It was probably something she would have known if she had as much experience at farming as she’d claimed. But thankfully, Eli was focused on making sure the mare wasn’t having problems during the birth and had answered automatically without paying much attention to her question.

Once the colt slid out onto the soft bed of straw and Eli cleared the membrane away from its tiny muzzle, he unwrapped the horse’s tail, then motioned for her to leave the mare to walk out into the barn aisle. “We’ll keep an eye on them from here,” he said quietly as he picked up his jacket and followed her. Closing the stall’s half door, he smiled. “You did a great job. Thanks.”

“I didn’t do all that much,” she said, smiling back at him.

She was relieved that she had passed her first trial of dealing with livestock and hadn’t embarrassed herself by showing how little she knew. But it was Eli’s unexpected praise that caused a pleasant warmth to spread through her.

A bit flustered by the feeling, Tori turned to peer over the top of the stall door. As she watched, the mare got up, then turned around to nudge her copper-colored colt with her muzzle.

“What’s she doing?” Tori asked, hoping the animal wasn’t trying to hurt her baby.

“She’s trying to get the foal to stand up,” Eli said, from just behind her.

The heat from his body and the intimate sound of his voice close to her ear sent a tingling sensation straight to the pit of her belly. How could she possibly feel such awareness this fast? Even if they were married, she hadn’t much more than just met him.

“Is the foal a boy or girl?” she asked in an attempt to regain her equilibrium.

“A little filly,” Eli said, draping his arm over her shoulders as they watched the tiny animal try several times to get up before it was successful. “Would you like to name her?”

“Really? You’ll let me do that?”

He nodded. “Do you have an idea of what you want to call her?”

“Can I think about it for a little while?” she asked, watching the filly wobble her way over to the mare to begin nursing. It was a sight she knew for certain she would never forget and helped take her mind off the churning feelings Eli had aroused within her.

“Take your time. There’s no hurry,” he said, giving her a smile that warmed her all the way to her toes.

As they continued to stare at each other, Tori wondered why a man like Eli would feel the need to advertise for a wife. With his rugged good looks and disarming presence, she’d have thought he would have women lined up across the state just waiting for a chance to get him to look their way. And what had compelled him to offer her the job of being his wife over the other applicants?





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