The Rancher's Bride. Stella Bagwell

let out a snort. “I damn well didn’t choose it that way.”

      The sharpness of his voice swung Rose’s gaze around to him. His profile was hard and unmoving, making it obvious to her that he was still bitter over losing his wife.

      But that wasn’t her problem, Rose quickly reminded herself. Nor was his sullen daughter. The Bar M was drowning in debt, and if he had a mind to, this man sitting next to her could push her the rest of the way under.

      Dear God, how was she going to tell her sisters, Chloe and Justine, and her Aunt Kitty that Tomas had borrowed several thousand dollars and put the ranch up as collateral? Just thinking about it left her numb with fear.

      “I’m sure you didn’t choose to lose your wife,” Rose said quietly.

      Harlan rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought you meant—” He turned his head and his eyes searched her face. “Some people think I’m being cruel to Emily by not marrying again. I figured you were thinking the same thing. Were you?”

      Rose couldn’t believe they were having this discussion. She didn’t even know this man. She didn’t want to know him. But each passing minute seemed to be showing her another slice of his personality.

      A faint frown drew her dark auburn brows together. “I wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to advise you about your family life, Mr.—Harlan.”

      A quirk of humor moved his lips. “I wasn’t asking for your advice. I was asking what you thought.”

      “Why?”

      “I beg your pardon?” he asked.

      He’d mentioned east Texas and from the sound of his drawl, Rose figured he must have grown up in that part of the country. She couldn’t deny the soft lilt of his voice did pleasant things to her senses.

      “Why do you want to know what I think? You don’t even know me.”

      Shrugging, he fixed his eyes on the darkening highway. “It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to a woman and since Emily is a girl, well, I sometimes wonder if I can see things the way you females do.”

      “Have you met a woman you’d like to marry?”

      He cast her a dry glance, then suddenly burst out with a short laugh. “Rose, there isn’t a woman on earth I’d want to marry.”

      His mocking attitude stiffened her spine to a rigid line of indignation. There wasn’t a man on earth she’d want to marry either, but she didn’t go around telling any of them such a thing. She didn’t like men, but that hardly made her want to insult them.

      “Then I think it best you stay single and—forget about what your friends say.”

      The little grin he gave her said she’d spoken the very words he’d wanted to hear. “You know, Rose, I think you’re gonna be my kind of woman.”

      * * *

      Ten minutes later, Rose was back home on the Bar M unsaddling Pie in the dimly lit stables. As she jerked on the worn latigo, Harlan’s words continued to gnaw at her craw.

       His kind of woman.

      She’d wanted to reach across the seat and slap his face. She, who had trouble bringing her boot down on a scorpion, wanted to commit an act of physical violence against another human being! What had come over her?

      With a tired grunt, she swung the saddle over the top rail of the empty stall, then slapped the bridle across the seat.

      “Rose?”

      At the sound of the female voice, Rose turned to see Chloe standing a few steps behind her. Like her sisters, she was a redhead—although her straight, shoulder length hair was a much deeper auburn than that of her siblings. And unlike Rose and Justine, Chloe was petite. But her temper and strength made up for her small stature. At the moment she was frowning with concern.

      “Is something wrong?”

      Rose forced herself to breathe deeply. The last thing she wanted was for Chloe to think a man had gotten under her sister’s skin.

      “I’m just hot and tired.”

      Chloe moved closer, her eyes wandering keenly over Rose’s flushed face. “You’re hot and tired when you come in every evening, but you don’t always look like you’ve been tangling with a bull.”

      A bull? Well, Harlan certainly had a few similarities to one, she couldn’t help thinking.

      “Are you finished here?” Rose glanced down the long line of compartments to see if all the horses were back in their stalls. “We need to go up to the house and talk.”

      “Talk? What’s happened now?”

      A year ago, Chloe would never have responded with such a negative question. Their father had still been alive then, the ranch, or so it had appeared to her and her sisters, had been thriving and rain had continued to keep the grass growing right up until frost.

      But this summer nothing had seemed to go right and Rose supposed Chloe’s usually bright outlook had finally started crumbling under the problems they’d been forced to face. As for herself, Rose was very nearly too numb to feel anything except a staggering weight on her shoulders.

      “Let’s go find Aunt Kitty,” Rose said while nudging Chloe toward the open doorway of the stable. “I only want to have to tell this story once.”

      Back at the house, the sisters entered an overly warm kitchen to find Kitty, a petite woman in her sixties with short gray hair. She was setting the table and didn’t stop to look at her nieces. “It’s almost ready, girls. Go wash and get the twins from the playpen. Their baby food is heating.”

      Minutes later, gathered around the dining table, Chloe took on the job of feeding Anna, while Rose assumed the task of feeding Adam. The twins were eight months old and starting to cut teeth. For the past week both babies had been fussy with sore gums. But tonight they appeared to be in better humor. Rose was relieved. She adored her little brother and sister and couldn’t bear to see them in any sort of pain.

      “Okay Rose, tell us what happened today,” Chloe said as she offered a spoon of pureed green beans to Anna. “You found another dead cow while you were riding fence?”

      “For heaven’s sake, what now?” Kitty asked wearily.

      Rose decided it would do no good to delay the telling. “The fence between us and the Flying H has been cut and cattle herded onto our land.”

      “What?” Chloe practically yelled the question.

      Totally bewildered, Kitty asked, “Who would have done such a thing?”

      “I rode over to the Flying H and confronted Harlan Hamilton about it,” Rose told them. “He admitted that he’d done it.”

      Chloe’s mouth fell open. Kitty simply stared at her niece.

      When neither of them said anything, Rose made an impatient gesture with her hand. “Don’t look at me like that.”

      “Like what?” Kitty asked with a puzzled frown.

      “Like you’re wondering what gave the timid spinster enough courage to go see a man,” she said with disgust.

      “Rose! None of us think of you as a timid spinster,” Chloe countered. “That’s your own way of thinking.”

      Frustrated because she still couldn’t gather her nerves together, Rose closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she told the two women, “I’m still feeling sorta testy.”

      Kitty and Chloe exchanged worried glances. Rose never felt testy over anything—quietly concerned maybe, but never angry or irritated.

      “Why? What happened between you and our neighbor?” Chloe asked.

      “Like I said, I went to see him. I didn’t want