The Double Heart Ranch. Leanna Wilson

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