The Bride Wore Spurs. Janet Dean

need to do this right,” he said, taking her hand and sending a shiver along her spine. He moved as if to get down on one knee.

      With a gasp of protest, she snatched her hand away. “This marriage is business only. No need for a proper proposal.”

      “Is it really? Just business for you?”

      Her gaze settled on those eyes searching hers, as if peering into her soul. She wouldn’t get swept up by a handsome face and fall for a man. Not even a man with a dazzling smile and a dimple begging for her touch.

      At her silence, he took a step back, erect, formal. “Hannah Parrish, will you marry me?”

      A lump rose in her throat. Once she agreed, there’d be no turning back. Yet what choice did she have? “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

      “We’ll need to marry soon.”

      Hannah stiffened. “How soon?”

      “Today’s Monday. Can we get it done by Thursday?”

      Get it done. As if marriage was on his list of chores. Her stomach clenched. How could she be ready in three days?

      “Martin’s a very sick man,” he reminded her. “He’d want to see you wed.”

      For Papa she could do anything. “Yes,” she said in a voice that wobbled.

      “I’ll do my best to be a good husband.” His soft tone matched the kindness in his eyes.

      She had no idea what constituted a good husband...or for that matter, a good wife. Could she fit into a husband’s expectations? Especially a mature man like Matt?

      One thing Hannah knew, she could never abide a bossy spouse. Papa seldom gave her orders. Until now. She’d grown up making her own decisions and had felt stifled under Aunt Mary Esther’s thumb. She couldn’t imagine a lifetime of being dictated to by a man. Would Matt allow her the freedom she needed?

      Her gaze swept the land. To remain on the ranch, to keep her way of life and to give her father peace, she’d marry.

      If only they had more time.

      If only Papa wasn’t dying.

      If only they were in love.

      She thought of the tenderness that had fleetingly appeared in Matt’s eyes. Perhaps love was possible...eventually.

      No, that expectation was a foolish peg to hang her heart on. A fairy-tale ending wasn’t what she wanted. She would deal with the real world. Papa was dying. To run the ranch and remain on the land she loved, she’d marry a man she didn’t.

      Chapter Five

      Wound tighter than a coiled spring, Matt rode into the Circle W stable, stripped leather, then brushed Thunder’s coat. As Matt led the stallion to his stall, fed and watered him, large, wide-set eyes alert with intelligence gazed back at him. Quick, smart and high-spirited, much like his future wife.

      But Hannah was a woman, not trained to bridle and bit. Truth was, she held the reins, using him to keep her ranch. Not that he didn’t want the same.

      At the pump, he scrubbed his hands and doused his face and neck. Had his admiration for Hannah’s coolheaded competence during a calf’s difficult birth triggered his proposal?

      No, he had prayed for wisdom. Felt a deep certainty he’d been led by God and had done the right thing. He wanted to give Martin peace. He wanted to help Hannah. He didn’t want love. The lack of expectations in this marriage fit him perfectly.

      Cal and his family were joining them for supper. Normally a good time, but with the task of telling his family the news, his steps lagged. No doubt they’d question his sanity.

      He found his mother and Cal’s wife, Susannah, in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. “Smells good, Ma,” he said, letting the screen door slap behind him. “Hi, Susannah.”

      Blond silky hair swept into a sleek bun, Susannah looked up from laying plates on the table and smiled. Fair and blue-eyed, Cal’s petite wife had an innocent, delicate quality about her, yet had a mind of her own if the occasion warranted.

      Victoria turned from the stove. “Hoped you’d get here in time for supper.”

      He hung his Stetson on a peg beside the door, then walked to his ma. “Let me help with that.” He took the potato masher from her hand and battled lumps in the potatoes. An easy skirmish compared to what lay ahead.

      As if led by their noses, Cal with his son, Robbie, tucked in his arms, and Pa trooped into the kitchen. Matt greeted them, then turned the pot over to his mother, who scooped the creamy potatoes into a large crock.

      “Hey,” Cal said, clapping Matt on the shoulder, “you look down in the mouth.”

      “Hush,” Victoria scolded. “Your brother’s been over to the Parrish ranch. You know Martin’s poorly.”

      Cal’s gaze clouded. “Sorry. Martin’s a good guy.”

      At the moment, Matt’s disquiet involved the task at hand, not merely Martin’s health. He’d like his family’s blessing, and would get it...in time.

      They gathered at the table, Robbie tucked in his high chair between Susannah and Cal. Pa offered grace, thanking God for the food and asking His mercy on Martin. After a hearty amen, Robert nabbed a piece of fried chicken, then passed the platter on.

      Susannah tied a bib around Robbie’s neck. “Hannah has no family in these parts. What will happen to her?”

      “She should sell the ranch and go back to Charleston,” Robert said. “Running a ranch isn’t a woman’s place.”

      “The Parrish family has endured a lot. First losing both Melanie and the baby in childbirth, now Martin.” Ma’s voice caught. “Poor Hannah. Makes me want to weep.”

      Susannah handed Robbie a spoon. The boy promptly dug into the potatoes and managed to get a spoonful into his mouth. “Hannah loves the ranch. I can’t believe she’d leave willingly.”

      Appetite gone, Matt moved his potatoes around his plate with a fork. Might as well get it said. “I asked her to marry me.”

      Stunned silence followed his declaration. All eyes turned on him, while the startling news sank in.

      “So when is the wedding taking place?” Susannah asked.

      Martin was dying. They had no time to cement their relationship. “If Pastor Cummings agrees, Thursday at the Lazy P.”

      Ma gasped. “Mercy, that’s fast. Are you sure about this?” she said, searching his face.

      Matt had seen that look before. Knew Ma was trying to read his thoughts, zipping him back to when he was ten and had played hooky from school. Ma had been judge and jury, meting out justice. As he recalled, he’d had to muck out the barn every night for a week.

      He glanced away from those perceptive eyes. “I’m sure.”

      Ma didn’t smile, merely nodded instead. “I’ll drive over to see how we can help.”

      “You can’t possibly love the girl,” Cal said. “Why, you barely know her.” He plopped his elbows on the table, his expression aghast, as if Matt had grown two heads. “Hannah’s a great kid. One thing to feel sorry for her, and I do, but quite another to marry her.”

      “Obviously, Cal, you haven’t seen Hannah since her return,” Pa declared. “She’s all grown-up.”

      Cal plopped tiny bites of chicken on Robbie’s tray. “There’s always been pretty women around. Why the sudden decision to marry this one, big brother?”

      Matt would never reveal that Hannah had proposed first. He couldn’t explain their decision to marry without revealing the personal details of the agreement, something he’d never do.

      “May