The Wife He Chose. Susan Fox P.

the turnoff to the ranch hadn’t finally come into sight, she might have had to find another place to pull off the highway. What should have been a two-hour trip to the ranch had lengthened to more than four because of the occasional stops she’d had to make to calm herself. There’d been times that day when only her desire to see her niece and nephew again had made her go on.

      Once she turned off onto the ranch road, she brought the car to a halt and tried to recover. A headache thumped at her brain, and it seemed to take forever before the nausea calmed. Her hands still trembled and she had a cautious drink of bottled water to soothe her dry mouth.

      Finally settled enough to drive on, Colleen started down the ranch road. The car’s slower speed on the gravel and the absence of traffic helped put her at ease. Over the last long, slow rise of road, the main house came into view.

      The Chalmers Ranch headquarters was impressive, even against the rugged backdrop of massive rangeland. The fact that the Chalmers measured their vast land acres by the tens of thousands was still an overwhelming notion to someone who’d been born and raised in the city.

      The main house held its own among the barns and buildings and the network of corrals that spread out behind it. The house was a huge, single-story adobe built in a C that faced away from the road and boasted a red tile roof and a deep front veranda with adobe arches. The shade beneath the veranda roof promised a cool haven from the heat of a Texas afternoon.

      By the time Colleen pulled her rented car to a halt near the end of the front walk, she was trembling with nerves. Fortunately, the place looked deserted, which gave her time to blot the perspiration from her face and shore up her courage.

      She doubted she’d ever have enough courage to face Cade Chalmers calmly and confidently. Her sister had been intimidated by him, though she’d also confided to Colleen that he’d been gentle and very good to the children. He’d never shown Sharon much warmth or approval, which had made it difficult for Sharon to feel comfortable with him.

      Colleen’s own memory was of a big, rugged man almost too gruff and terse to approach. In the few times she’d met him, he’d been distant and polite, but his manner suggested he judged people harshly.

      He’d made it obvious that he found her uninteresting and inconsequential, perhaps no one he’d even notice if she hadn’t been the sister of his brother’s wife.

      Colleen was hardly the beauty her sister had been and now, with her dark hair a scant two inches long if that, she felt even less attractive than before the crash. She’d lost so much weight that she looked like a plain, effeminate boy. Men had rarely found her attractive and now they virtually ignored her except to stare at her cane and observe her awkward manner with a mix of curiosity and veiled pity.

      All of that underscored the notion that little Beau and baby Amy were the only family she’d ever have. And though she’d loved both of them fiercely from birth, the circumstances of her bleak future made it imperative to be allowed access to them and permitted the joy and happy responsibility of being their aunt. She was the only closely related member from the James family that the two children had. Surely Cade Chalmers would see the importance of that.

      Cade Chalmers was on his way to the kitchen from his office in the east wing, when he heard the car pull up out front. He walked to the entry hall to see who it was, but he didn’t recognize the thin, frail woman who stepped out and started toward the door. The black cane got his immediate attention and memory kicked in.

      Colleen James walked stiffly, her every movement giving as much an impression of self-consciousness as of wary care. She used the support of the cane as if she needed it. So much so that he wondered why she was not on crutches.

      Colleen was one person he didn’t care to see or have anything to do with. She’d let herself get too involved in the petty marital dispute that had resulted in the death of her sister and finally his brother, leaving a three-year-old and an infant orphaned. If she’d refused to let herself get drawn into it all, things might have been quickly resolved. It was his belief that flighty, irresponsible Sharon might have settled down easier to her family responsibilities if Colleen hadn’t been around to rescue her whenever she couldn’t get her way.

      Sharon had been the kind of mercenary female he’d been pushing away all his adult life. His brother had fallen for her then let himself be dragged around like a lovesick fool. Sharon had paid him back by making his life hell.

      And that hell had been the litmus test of Craig’s level of addiction to his beautiful, manipulative wife. Then she’d had the bad luck to die.

      Following the accident, Cade had had a distraught brother to deal with, a bewildered toddler and a helpless infant on his hands. Colleen had been in a coma for weeks so the arrangements for her sister’s funeral had also fallen to him.

      Craig had learned later that Colleen wanted no part of him or the kids, so Cade had rapidly put her out of his mind. He’d had enough to handle with the kids and the ranch and his younger brother’s descent into a bottle. Craig hadn’t been able to face life sober without his flighty wife.

      But both of them were gone now. Gone and oblivious to the pain and hardship they’d left behind for their kids.

      Why Colleen James suddenly decided to show up here was no more than a minor mystery for him. One that would surely take little time to uncover and was sure to amount to nothing of real consequence. Maybe she needed money. If she did, she was out of luck. James women had gotten their last dollar from Chalmers men.

      He opened the door just as Colleen stepped into the shade of the veranda. The surprise of his appearance seemed to startle her and she faltered. But then the surprise was his as he saw her up close.

      Her skin was pale, nearly translucent, and there were feathery lines of strain around her mouth. Weariness made her eyelids droop slightly, but the look in the clear blue of her eyes was almost spiritless.

      She had been willowy before, but now she was thin and about as insubstantial as a strip of gauze. A light breeze would topple her and he was inclined to go easy on her.

      His gaze flicked to the car behind her and he revised his impression. She was well enough to drive herself from San Antonio, so she was probably stronger than she looked.

      Her sister had tried everyone’s patience with a list of minor infirmities that ran the gamut from headaches to frazzled nerves. She’d had a way of avoiding the daily care of her kids that had seemed selfish to him. And though hiring nannies and sitters had been a solution the Chalmers’ could easily afford and had, Sharon’s penchant for firing them or running them off with demands to lavish her with as much care and attention as they gave the kids, made the search for replacements a constant bother.

      But as he stared at the changes in Colleen James, he felt guilty for the harsh comparison. He knew her injuries had been severe and it was obvious she was nowhere near a full recovery. And the frailty he saw would be impossible to fake. Curious now, he studied her more intently.

      Her sable hair was too damned short. Short enough that it tried to stick out all over her head, but she’d smoothed it down with some kind of hair goo. Her eyes, a near robin’s egg color, were large and fringed with dark lashes. Her nose was fine and slim and her lips were only slightly full, though they looked tender and vulnerable to him—too tender and vulnerable to have had much kissing.

      If she ever put on weight, her small body would be more feminine. The image the thought put in his mind startled him and caused a strong stir of attraction in spite of the frail boyish look she had now.

      His gruff, “Miz James,” was formal and terse.

      Her quiet, “Mr. Chalmers,” was equally formal, but he’d seen the quiver of anxiety that showed in her eyes. “May I come in?”

      The question acknowledged his rudeness in staring at her, rather than immediately inviting her in. But it was also an acknowledgment of his right to deny her access to his home. Sharon wouldn’t have asked. She’d have helped herself and walked in. Or gone teary if she even imagined resistance.

      Cade