The Rancher's Temporary Engagement. Stacy Henrie

the word if, though Maggy still lit up with interest. “I don’t want it to be an outright lie.”

      Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

      How to explain? He didn’t know if she was religious or not, but even if she wasn’t, he hoped she would honor his desire to be scrupulous. It was a way of life he’d attempted to live fully, in light of his sister’s example—a determination reinforced by Beatrice’s dishonest behavior.

      “What will we do to end this charade?” he asked, trying a different approach.

      Maggy shook her head and shrugged. “Decide we don’t suit and I go back to Colorado.”

      “Then I would like to make the engagement official.”

      Her eyes widened as a look of near panic and suspicion crossed her face. “Official how?”

      “Will you...” Edward cleared his throat—he could well relate to the alarm she felt. It was as if he stood at the top of some great mountain peak and had been commanded to jump. “Will you agree to be my fiancée, for the duration of your time here? I only ask it that way,” he hastened to add, “so that we won’t be living or telling a lie when we tell people I asked for your hand.”

      She took his measure, making him wonder what she saw. “All right then. I’ll agree to be your fiancée for as long as I’m needed here.”

      Then her lips curved upward in a dazzling smile, similar to the one she’d bestowed on McCall, leaving Edward as charmed as his foreman and thinking this temporary engagement might prove to be a decent idea after all.

      * * *

      Maggy resisted the urge to shout with triumph. Things were going splendidly and she’d only been at the Running W less than two hours. “Since we’ve already established our plan, I’d like to change.” She motioned to the tea splotches on her dress. “And then I’d like to see the rest of the ranch.”

      “One moment,” Edward said, scrutinizing her with those gray eyes. “Have you played the role of someone’s fiancée before?”

      “Well, no, but—”

      “Have you ever been engaged before?”

      The question pushed memories best forgotten into her mind and she frowned. She and Jeb were betrothed just two days before they married. That hardly counted. “I don’t see how that’s relevant, but no, I have not.”

      “Then how do I know this plan of yours will actually work?”

      Now he was simply being obtuse. She’d already proven herself twice over, and she’d agreed to be his fiancée so they wouldn’t be lying. Crossing her arms, Maggy challenged his probing look with one of her own. “Of course it will work.”

      “We also have your reputation to consider.”

      He was worried about that now? “I’m a female detective, Edward. I have little to no reputation as it is.”

      “Be that as it may,” he clasped his hands behind his back as he paced the room again, “as my fiancée and a hopeful member of the ranchers’ wives’ club, you must be seen as the consummate image of propriety.”

      Concern nagged her, causing Maggy to tighten her arms against her bodice. “Fine. I will be.”

      “That would entail things like staying in the guest cottage rather than here inside my home.”

      She nodded with impatience. “I can do that. Now I’d like to—”

      “What about your wardrobe?”

      Full annoyance sparked inside her. So she hadn’t factored in every detail; at least she’d come up with a plan. “What about it, darling?” she ground out.

      The merest hint of amusement lit his gaze before he shuttered it. “You only came up with this scheme a moment ago—I doubt you packed with this role in mind. How up to snuff are your clothes?”

      “They’re a bit out of style. But, again, I’m a detective, not a socialite.”

      He stopped and stood in front of her. “A socialite is exactly what you must be, Maggy, if we are to pull this off.”

      Fear began chewing at her frustration, riddling her thoughts with doubt. “I can show you what I have to wear to social functions.” While most of her dresses were simple in style and adornment, they would surely do. “I’ll get my trunk...”

      She let her voice fade out when Edward slid his fingers around her wrist to stay her exit. Icy terror froze her for a moment, except for the painful, rapid beating of her heart.

      “Unhand me,” she said in a firm whisper.

      Edward blinked in obvious confusion, then glanced down at her hand. “My apologies.” He released her at once, restoring Maggy’s ability to breathe normally. His contrite expression was further proof he’d meant nothing by his gesture. “I only wished to detain you another minute.”

      Gripping her hands together, to hide their trembling, she lifted her chin. “What more did you want to say?”

      “I want to address this.”

      Maggy eyed him, feeling puzzled. “Address what?”

      “What just happened.” He motioned between them.

      Fresh dread washed through her and she clasped her hands more tightly together. She would not divulge her past to him. “I don’t see how that’s important to your case.”

      “I disagree.” His mouth and brow were both drawn downward. “As an engaged couple, we have to appear as if we share genuine affection for one another. But if you can’t abide my hand on yours...”

      He wasn’t asking about her past. Maggy allowed a small breath of relief. “I can certainly feign affection.” Her tone came out far more self-confident than she actually felt. Surely she could play any role she needed to. She always had before. “Can you do the same?” she countered.

      To her surprise, Edward didn’t rattle off a quick retort. Instead he lowered his head and shut his eyes in what appeared to be a silent prayer. A prick of guilt stung Maggy as she tried to remember the last time she’d prayed. Probably not since she’d been a girl. She shifted her stance, feeling uncomfortable and at a disadvantage. It wasn’t an emotion she enjoyed.

      Edward opened his eyes and took a decisive step forward, which meant they were standing toe-to-toe. Maggy had a strange urge to ask him what he’d concluded. However, when he scooped up one of her hands in his, she had a guess what his answer had been.

      “I believe I can act the part of a devoted fiancé.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “At least I shall try.”

      The gentleness of his voice and the warmth of his fingers on hers inspired a renewal of her trepidation but also an unfamiliar and entirely unexpected sensation of safety. Could she play this role as thoroughly as Edward was implying they must?

      “I... I need to change.” She pulled her hand free and fell back a step.

      His brow creased again, but he didn’t attempt to stop her this time. “I’ll show you to the guest cottage then.”

      Nodding, Maggy waited for him to lead the way. The hallway was empty, which meant his foreman had decided not to wait. Edward easily shouldered her trunk a second time and she trailed him out the front door. A stone’s throw away stood a stable and another small building. The guest house sported the same white clapboard as the main one and its own tiny porch.

      Edward set her trunk down to open the door. “Here you are.”

      “Thank you.” Maggy stepped inside. The single room was spacious and clean, and the window revealed a lovely view of the mountains.

      He placed her luggage on the bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

      “No.”