The Double Heart Ranch. Leanna Wilson

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Название The Double Heart Ranch
Автор произведения Leanna Wilson
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Современные любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
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      She faced him once more. “Good luck with your search for the perfect wife and mother.”

      With red-rimmed eyes and a determined jaw, she yanked open the front door.

      “Wait, Elise!” Cole reached out and put a hand on her elbow. A frisson of electricity shocked him, scolded him for touching her again. But he realized in that instant that he wanted to draw her close and pull her against him. It made no sense, and he ignored the strange need. Carefully, he turned her to face him.

      Tears brimmed in her eyes, unnerving him. Her wide, expectant gaze turned him inside out. Not knowing how to repair the damage he’d caused, he asked, “What did I say?”

      She shook her head and sidestepped him, breaking the contact between them. She wrapped her arms across her middle. “It’s what you didn’t say. I threw a wrench into your well-thought-out plans. If you want to say no, then say it. Don’t make excuses. I can take it.”

      “I didn’t mean it as a rejection of you.” He cupped both her elbows in his hands, pulled her closer. So close that he could smell her light perfume that seemed both to fog his head and sharpen his senses at once. “The thought of being a father again, to another baby, is scary.”

      “Or is it that you don’t want to become a father to a baby who isn’t yours?”

      “It’s definitely a consideration. It’s a huge commitment.”

      “And marriage isn’t?”

      A wisp of a smile softened his stiff lips. “You’re right. Maybe I thought it would be easier. I don’t know.”

      Her gaze softened, and her features relaxed. “Where did you get the idea?”

      He ran his fingers roughly through his hair and sucked in a breath. “My great-great-grandfather had a mail-order bride. Of course, I know it was during the eighteen hundreds. But they built the Double Heart Ranch together, had a huge family.” He shrugged. “I figured love had failed for me during my first marriage, maybe something else might work better.”

      He stepped away, needing breathing room. Elise’s understanding gaze unnerved him. He drew a thin stream of air into his tight lungs.

      “Then, what is…” she asked, “…what’s making your decision so difficult?”

      He cursed beneath his breath, owning up to the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. “My wife left me and my daughter. I don’t want that to happen again.” He swung around and confronted Elise, anger pumping through his veins like oil through a rig. “Okay? How do I know that in three months’ time you won’t grow bored with this arrangement, with the ranch, with us? How do I know that you won’t have the baby and leave your kid here while you go off to pursue…whatever?”

      She met him toe-to-toe, propping her hands on her hips. In a quiet, almost-still voice, she said, “Because I give you my word. Which is all I have to give.

      “I’m not going to walk out on you, Cole Dalton. When I make a commitment, it’s forever. I realize there are two little lives at stake here. I wouldn’t do anything to harm your daughter or my baby. I certainly wouldn’t desert my child.” Her voice sounded strong and sure, in spite of the slight tremor.

      Could he believe her? After all, Paula had promised to love, honor and cherish him, for better or worse. Worse had come sooner than better.

      “This isn’t an easy decision for me, either, Cole. I’m just as scared of being…I didn’t make a rash decision before I came out this afternoon. Just as you didn’t make a spur-of-the-moment decision to find yourself a wife. I’ve thought this through.” She put her hand on his arm. Her warmth broke through the chill surrounding his heart, but his nerves cinched tight.

      “But, Cole,” she said, her gaze steady, her voice dipping low, “you still have questions. Take some time and think about it. Check out your other options. I’m sure there will be other women who’ll jump at the chance to answer your advertisement.”

      “I don’t know about that. As I said before, it’s not you precisely that I’m questioning.” It was his ability to trust versus his need to find a wife—and a mother for his daughter. He sucked in a breath and steadied his nerves. He felt a definite pull toward this intriguing woman who seemed to understand him better than he did himself. “Before we can decide anything, we need to conduct a test.” His gaze settled on her inviting mouth.

      She withdrew her hand from his arm. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted. “A test?”

      He wanted to lean forward and kiss her, test the simmer he felt each time they touched to see if it would boil. But that wasn’t what was important now. Or was it?

      Tension pulled at the corners of Elise’s mouth. Her throat went bone dry. What did he mean?

      She’d seen that look in a man’s eyes. Desire. Plain and simple. The way it made Cole’s eyes darken like a cloud bank of sin unnerved her. She felt his gaze move over her like a slow caress. The hair at the back of her neck prickled and a shimmy of anticipation—no, wariness—rippled down her spine. She stared at his wide, generous mouth, unsure if he made her nervous or if it was the scintillating thoughts churning inside her mind. “What kind of a test?”

      “You need to meet Haley,” he said, as cool and controlled as she was hot and uneasy. “If you get along, then maybe we can work something out.”

      It wasn’t exactly a proposal to write home about. But then she didn’t have a home. Or anyone to write to. What more could a woman like her ask for? “And if we don’t…” she offered, squaring her shoulders, preparing herself for the inevitable rejection, “then I guess all bets are off.”

      He nodded. “I guess so.”

      An hour later, tension twisted her insides into constricting knots as she waited for Cole to return home with his daughter from school. Elise had never been good at taking tests or giving auditions. She was suffering from an acute case of performance anxiety.

      How many times had she “performed” for wanna-be adoptive parents and failed? How many times had she been lacking whatever it was the adoptive couples wanted in their child. A boy? Blue eyes? Blond hair? The perfect smile? Top grades? She knew she’d set herself up for failure this time. After all, Haley probably didn’t want just any mommy. She wanted her own. How could Elise compete?

      Or maybe Cole had set her up for failure. Maybe he still wanted a way out of this deal without feeling like a bad guy. She couldn’t blame him really. It was asking a lot for a stranger to take on the extra responsibility of a wife and new baby. Then again, it wasn’t asking any more than he was requiring for his mail-order bride.

      As she waited in Cole’s living room, Elise sat on the edge of the sofa as if it might swallow her if she were to lean back and relax. She wondered if he’d been honest about his precious darling. Maybe Haley was a little tyrant. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been able to keep even a nanny.

      Worrying her lower lip, she tried to remember how she’d worked with the younger kids at the orphanage. The nuns had said she was a natural. Placing her hand over her abdomen, she hoped and prayed that was true. She wanted to be a wonderful mother for her baby. Trouble was, she had nobody to compare herself to, no role model, except for Mrs. Brady and Mrs. Cleaver on television.

      The front door of Cole’s house swung open and banged against a wall. Elise heard the patter of tiny feet and guessed little Haley was running or skipping, like most five year olds. She plastered on her best smile, straightened her shoulders and prepared to meet Cole’s daughter. But she only caught a blur of bouncing blond curls as the little girl raced through the den and up the stairs.

      The slamming of a distant door had Elise’s spine stiffening. Something wasn’t right. And she had to be the reason. The little girl had asked for a mommy in a weak moment, but when faced with the real possibility, Haley must have had visions of an evil stepmom, like in “Hansel and Gretel.”

      “Sorry