Mail-Order Groom. Lisa Plumley

       ‘You’re a fine nursemaid,’ Adam told her.

      ‘It’s the least I could do. Particularly after you travelled all this way just to be with me.’ With sudden shyness, Savannah lowered her gaze. ‘I’m so sorry about what … happened to you. I promise we don’t usually find such ruffians around these parts. You’ll be absolutely safe here with me. I’ll make sure of it.’

      It was preposterous—but kind—of her to suggest she could protect him. Adam didn’t understand why she thought he’d come to the Territory to be with her, though. Unless she’d found his saddlebags and his journals? Unless she knew about his work for the agency? He glanced sideways. All he saw was his rucksack, full of essentials like his shaving razor and soap and extra clothes.

       After you travelled all this way just to be with me.

      A few seconds too late, the truth struck him. Savannah Reed, Adam realised, thought he was her mail-order groom!

      AUTHOR NOTE

      Thank you for reading MAIL-ORDER GROOM!

      I’m so happy to share Savannah’s and Adam’s story with you. It was great fun for me to write, and I truly hope you enjoy it. If you spot a few familiar faces, that’s because this is my fifth visit to Morrow Creek! I hope you’ll look for the other stories in my Morrow Creek series, including THE MATCHMAKER, THE SCOUNDREL and THE RASCAL.

      In the meantime, you’re invited to drop by my website, www.lisaplumley.com, where you can sign up for new book alerts or my reader newsletter, read sneak previews of upcoming books, request special reader freebies, and more. I hope you’ll visit today.

      As always, I’d love to hear from you! You can visit me online at community.eharlequin.com/users/lisaplumley, send e-mail to [email protected], ‘friend’ me on Facebook, follow me on Twitter, or write to me c/o PO Box 7105, Chandler, AZ 85246-7105, USA.

      About the Author

      When she found herself living in modern-day Arizona Territory, LISA PLUMLEY decided to take advantage of it—by immersing herself in the state’s fascinating history, visiting ghost towns and historical sites, and finding inspiration in the desert and mountains surrounding her. It didn’t take long before she got busy creating light-hearted romances like this one, featuring strong-willed women, ruggedly intelligent men, and the unexpected situations that bring them together.

      When she’s not writing, Lisa loves to spend time with her husband and two children, travelling, hiking, watching classic movies, reading, and defending her trivia-game championship. She enjoys hearing from readers, and invites you to contact her via e-mail at [email protected], or visit her website at www.lisaplumley.com

       Previous novels by the same author:

      THE DRIFTER THE MATCHMAKER*

      THE SCOUNDREL*

      THE RASCAL*

      MARRIAGE AT MORROW CREEK*

      (part of Halloween Temptations anthology)

       *Morrow Creek mini-series

       and in Mills & Boon Historical Undone eBooks:

      WANTON IN THE WEST

      MAIL-ORDER

      GROOM

      Lisa Plumley

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      To my husband, John, with all my love.

       Chapter One

       June 1884

       Northern Arizona Territory

      “For a fella who always gets his man, you sure are spending a lot of time moonin’ over that woman of yours.”

      At the sound of his longtime partner’s voice, Adam Corwin jerked his gaze from the blurry photograph he’d been studying.

      “She’s not mine.” Stone-faced, he shoved the photograph in his coat pocket, next to his heart. “She’s bait. Nothing more.”

      “She’s the gold nugget in this ol’ mining scheme, that’s for sure.” Mariana Sayles crawled to match his position on the ridge, dirtying her skirts with an aplomb unmatched by any detective—female or otherwise. “But there’s no sense looking at her night and day. It’s Bedell we’re supposed to pin, remember?”

      “I wish I could forget.” Adam reached for his rucksack. Without taking his gaze from his target, he pushed aside his maps and jerky, then withdrew his spyglass. He aimed the instrument at the campsite he and Mariana had identified after days of tracking. He frowned. “Still no sign of movement.”

      “From you or the mark?”

      “Funny.” His self-discipline might be legendary, but Adam didn’t like to be reminded of it. “You should join up with one of those traveling circuses. Pay’s probably better.”

      “And give up all this?” Mariana gestured at the scrub oak, fallen pinecones, and overall desolation surrounding them at the edge of the mountainside. “Now you’re talkin’ crazy, Corwin.”

      “Days of waiting will do that to a man.”

      “So will days without a bath. I itch something fierce.”

      “Nobody said detective work would be pretty.”

      “Nobody said you’d be so handsome, but I put up with it.”

      Mariana gave him a teasing smile—the same smile that helped her charm outlaws and clients with equal ease—but Adam didn’t reply. Intent on catching sight of the confidence man they’d tracked across three states and two territories, he scanned the blackened fire pit, the four horses, the empty bottles of mescal, and the trio of canvas military-issue tents—doubtless recently stolen—in the valley below him.

      Although the sun had just come up, wisps of smoke still issued from the charred logs—evidence of how late the fire had burned. The bony horses—most likely as pilfered as the tents were—shifted at their iron posts. Otherwise all was silent.

      Frustratingly silent.

      If Bedell didn’t catch up with his four no-good brothers soon, Adam would know that he and Mariana had struck the wrong path. It wouldn’t be the first time Bedell had slipped away from them. The man was ruthless, whip-smart and as elusive as a warm bed to the man who’d been trailing him.

      “You want me to end all this real quick?” Mariana asked. “I could put on a clean dress, go shake my bustle a little, see if those boys want to come in peaceful for a change.”

      Adam quirked his mouth. “The day Roy Bedell or his brothers do anything peacefully is the day I sprout wings.” He flattened his belly against the gravelly ground. “You stay here.”

      “Why, Mr. Corwin! Are you still trying to protect me?”

      “Keep your voice down, too.”

      “Always the chivalrous one, even after all these years. They warned me about you at the agency, but would I listen?” Her tone as playful as ever, Mariana nudged him. “How do you know I merit defending anyhow? Some people ain’t worth saving.”

      “Some people are bound and determined to give up our position.” Frowning, Adam tucked away his spyglass. He crawled back from the ridge’s edge, then straightened. Deftly he shouldered his rucksack. It contained everything he owned, save his horse and saddle. He couldn’t recall the last night he’d spent without it tucked beneath his head. “Saddle up. Let’s go.”