Handpicked Husband. Winnie Griggs

but Reggie obviously didn’t want it talked about in front of Jack. Either one of you fellas care to fill me in?”

      Adam shrugged. “We’re here at Judge Madison’s request. Other than that, I think it would be best if you hear the story from Miss Nash herself.”

      “Fair enough,” Ira answered. “But there’s something you need to know. I went to work for Warren Nash over thirty years ago. I was around when Reggie was born and I helped Warren take care of her after her momma died. When Warren lay on his deathbed, I gave him my word I’d look after her as if she were my own.” He paused a moment. “And I’m still keeping my word, to this day.”

      Adam met his gaze levelly. “Understood.”

      Their gazes remained locked for several heartbeats. Then Ira uncrossed his arms and the friendly, amused-at-the-world grin returned. “Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, I’ll leave you to care for your animals.” With a wave, he headed around to the front of the cabin, whistling a jaunty tune.

      “Did that little gnome just draw a line and dare us to cross it?” Mitchell’s expression was a mixture of disbelief and admiration.

      Adam bent to work the straps on Trib’s saddle. “It seems he’s as protective of Miss Nash as his wife is.” He gave Mitchell a sideways glance. “A man could look for worse in a wife than one who inspires such loyalty.”

      It was a lesson he himself had learned the hard way.

      * * *

      “Amen.” Jack finished his prayers and clambered onto his pallet.

      Reggie drew the bedsheet up to Jack’s chin, ruffling his soft brown hair as she did so. She’d tried not to roll her eyes when he’d included their four visitors in his litany of people and things to be thankful for.

      “So, how did the frogging go tonight?” she asked.

      “We bagged a whole sack full of big ole’ bullfrogs.” Jack snuggled down on the pallet. “Mrs. Peavy’s gonna have more’n enough to feed us all tomorrow.”

      “And were our visitors much help?”

      “Mr. Barr got the hang of it pretty quick and caught his share. And I think maybe Mr. Parker has gone frogging before.” Jack paused and looked at Reggie with wide eyes. “He sure is a big one, isn’t he?”

      “That he is,” she said carefully. Did the man’s size intimidate Jack?

      Jack, however, merely yawned. “Mr. Dawson seemed to really have fun, but Ira said he had a bad case of the flibbertigibbets.”

      “And Mr. Fulton?”

      “He just took care of watching the sack for us.” Jack frowned. “I don’t think he likes getting his hands dirty.”

      Reggie hid a smile. Only a few hours in their company and it seemed the six-year-old already had the men accurately pegged. “Mr. Fulton probably hasn’t had much experience with outdoor life.”

      She patted the covers. “Settle down and get some sleep. I’m going to see if Mrs. Peavy or Ira need any help settling our guests in.”

      Reggie gave Jack a quick peck on the cheek, then turned and climbed down the loft ladder. “Well,” she said as she stepped off the bottom rung, “where are our visitors?”

      Mrs. Peavy set down a bundle of sheets and blankets on the dining table. “Mr. Barr herded them outside. He insisted they allow us some privacy to settle in.” She gave Reggie a questioning look. “They’re not used to roughing it the way we are. It don’t feel neighborly making them sleep on the floor while we take the ticking.”

      Reggie shrugged. “It’s not as if we have much else to offer.” She raised a hand. “And don’t even think about offering up your and Ira’s bed. It’s not big enough for all of them anyway.” She pulled the pins from her hair and shook it free. Ahh, that felt good. “Besides, it’s just for one night. They’ll survive.”

      “Confound it!”

      The British-accented exclamation, accompanied by the sound of a slap, easily penetrated the netting-covered windows.

      “Hang propriety, Barr,” Mr. Fulton grumbled. “These mosquitoes are as big as bats and thick as an English fog. We’re getting eaten alive out here.”

      “For once I agree.”

      That sounded like the young Mr. Dawson.

      “Take a step toward that door before I say you can,” Adam replied pleasantly, “and I’ll see that you sleep out here with your winged friends tonight.”

      Reggie raised a brow. She hadn’t expected such gallantry from Adam.

      “Sounds like your grandfather picked the right man for the job,” Ira remarked.

      Reggie reluctantly agreed.

      Mrs. Peavy tsked and made shooing motions. “Now stop this dawdling, both of you. We may not be able to offer them more than a floor tonight, but there’s no need to make them suffer more than necessary.”

      Reggie nodded and climbed back up the ladder. She could tell by the sound of Jack’s breathing he was already asleep. Changing for bed, she lay down on her own straw-stuffed ticking. A second later, Ira dimmed the lamp and invited the men back inside.

      Reggie stared at the rafters in the shadowy moonlight and listened to the men bedding down on the floor just scant feet below her.

      If her grandfather had his way, one of these strangers would soon be her husband, would have the right to share her life.

      Reggie rolled to her side and cradled her cheek on one arm, trying to encourage her weary body to relax enough for sleep to overtake her.

      Unbidden, the memory of being caught up in Adam’s arms as she tripped tiptoed into her thoughts. For a few moments this afternoon she’d once more been that moonstruck schoolgirl who considered him a white knight.

      Stop it! Remember what’s at stake.

      Reggie flopped over and fluffed up her pillow. She closed her eyes and forced herself to remember Adam saying I’ll be scrupulously, might I say ruthlessly, single-minded.

      She didn’t doubt for a minute he’d meant every syllable of his vow.

      Some masculine grumbling drifted up from below. If the unimaginable happened and she had to actually make a choice, which man would she end up with?

      Heavenly Father, I know I’ve been mostly a disappointment to You, but please help me figure out how to handle this. If not for me, then for Jack’s sake. I couldn’t stand to see him hurt by any of this.

      As Reggie finally drifted off to a troubled sleep, her three suitors whirled through her dreams, twirling her in a dizzying square-dance.

      And above it all stood Adam Barr, playing the fiddle and calling the moves.

      * * *

      Adam trailed behind Chance as they climbed the footpath from the lake to the cabin in the early morning light. The kid had more of a spring to his step now than when they had headed down just past dawn. Apparently the night spent on the cabin floor hadn’t done any permanent damage.

      Chance had even perked up enough to whistle.

      Adam tightened his grip on his shaving gear, sourly wondering what his companion had to be so cheery about. He certainly didn’t find the situation any more palatable today than yesterday. In fact, if anything, he was more eager to get this assignment over and done with than before.

      The members of this unorthodox household had been unfailingly polite to their guests last night. But all through the simple supper and homey conversation, Adam had felt like a boorish trespasser, an infidel invading a peace-loving land. It was as if Regina had gone out of her way to show the four “Easterners” just what a happy home they were about to invade and destroy.

      Adam