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A Deal at the Altar: Hired by the Cowboy / SOS: Convenient Husband Required
A Deal at the Altar: Hired by the Cowboy / SOS: Convenient Husband Required
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A Deal at the Altar: Hired by the Cowboy / SOS: Convenient Husband Required

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“A paper marriage, then?”

He sighed and looked down into her eyes. Yep, she’d been right. A woman could lose herself in those chocolate eyes and find herself agreeing to all kinds of madness.

“Yes. It won’t be a traditional marriage. Look, it’s not like this is what I wanted for myself. Believe me, I’ve exhausted every possible angle trying to find a way to keep things going. I’m looking at this practically. I get what I need and you get some help. We are both in predicaments here and are in the position of being able to help each other. Nothing more.”

“Marriage isn’t supposed to be a business arrangement.”

That took him by surprise, she could tell. It probably did seem strange, coming from a woman who was practically homeless, single and pregnant. He might be shocked to discover how she truly felt about love and marriage. Not that she’d ever breathe a word of that to him. No way.

“I know. It’s supposed to be love and commitment forever. And I do want that someday.” His cheekbones softened as he looked away. “A wife who loves me as I love her, and children of our own. A partner to share the ups and downs with. Honor and strength, and knowing you’re stronger together than apart.”

A devastatingly sexy man with traditional values. Could he possibly know how rare that was?

“I’d be a means to an end,” she confirmed, the words coming out strangled. She shook off his hand and started walking again.

“That sounds cold,” he said gently. “We would be helping each other. I want that happy ending…and I’m assuming you do too. Someday in the future. We’d be doing what we need to do now to survive. I’m hoping we would become friends.”

Friends. Now, that sounded dangerous. Her footsteps made squishing noises in the film of water on the concrete. What he was suggesting was outrageous. Preposterous. Humiliating.

“I think you’re crazy.” She stopped outside a pale yellow house. “Thanks for the walk home.”

“Alex, please. Don’t say no yet, OK? Just think about it. I know it’s not romantic. But leave all that behind and look at the facts, OK? You’d have some security for yourself and the baby, and a comfortable place to live for the rest of your pregnancy. Your needs will be looked after, I promise.”

She shrugged out of his coat and handed it back.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend you can propose to?”

“No.” The answer was flat and final. “Take until Monday to consider it. I’ll be back in town then. If you take the time to think about it, you’ll see that you’d be helping me immensely. The least I can do is repay the favor.”

It was too practical, too perfect, and too convenient. Perfect plans always ended up getting blown to smithereens and leaving her standing alone after the dust had settled. If her life had taught her anything, it had taught her that.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Without looking back, she went inside and shut the door.

CHAPTER THREE

ALEX WAS ZIPPING UP her backpack when a car door slammed.

She couldn’t see the vehicle, but a quiver along her spine told her it was him before she even peered out through the peephole. Sure enough, he was skirting around the front of a huge pickup truck. She pressed a hand to her heart, trying to calm the thumping there. He was early. She had planned on him meeting up with her at the pub later. But it was barely ten, and he had obviously remembered where she was staying.

She opened the door before he had time to knock. Connor’s boots halted abruptly, and they stared at each other. She didn’t know what to say, and as the silence stretched out she grew more and more uncomfortable. She chewed on her bottom lip, while he stood so still she could barely make out the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was like he was waiting to see what she’d say before he decided what to do. Offering her hand to him seemed silly, a kiss on the cheek presumptuous. She stuffed her hands into her pockets instead.

He was looking very different than he had on Friday. In a very good way. Long, muscled legs filled out faded jeans, and he wore a plain black T-shirt that accentuated the broadness of his torso. Her eyes darted upward; his hair, shaggy at the ends, was as tousled as ever. His forearms, brown from the sun, were lightly sprinkled with hair, tapering to strong wrists. They disappeared into his jeans pockets when he caught her staring at him.

“Good morning.” He smiled, but his eyes were focused on her lips, which she was still biting nervously.

“You’re very prompt.” The words came out more sharply than she’d intended, but the fact of the matter was she was more affected by his appearance than she cared to admit.

His jaw ticked ever so slightly in response to her tone. “I’ve got to be back by lunchtime.”

Wow, wasn’t this romantic? She rested her weight back on a hip. Gee, honey, don’t mean to rush you, but could you answer my proposal so I can get back to the cows? He didn’t say it, but that was how it made her feel. Suddenly she doubted her decision. Things were happening too fast. A week ago she’d just been trying to pay her share of the rent. Today she was actually contemplating moving out to a farm in the middle of nowhere in a bogus marriage to a man she didn’t even know. This was so surreal.

“I don’t mean to rush you.” He tried an encouraging smile instead.

“You think by turning on the charm I’m going to follow along meekly?” Her eyes shot fire at him. “You need to do more than flash your pearly whites to convince me.”

He stepped back, properly chastised. “I beg your pardon,” he responded stiffly.

She couldn’t help it. The whole situation was ludicrous. Her lips curved up slightly in response and she let her eyes twinkle at him. “I would think so.”

She knew the moment he got that she was teasing. His eyes warmed, glowing back at her, and a reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m ready.” She pulled the backpack out from behind the door and stepped out on to the porch.

“You mean you’ll do it?” His jaw dropped.

She kept her smile in place. She was glad he hadn’t been sure of her; that made what came next a little easier.

“Well, not exactly.”

“I don’t understand. Either you’re coming or not.” He leaned his right arm against the porch pillar, pulling the shirt taut against his ribs.

Alex licked her lips, unsure of how to begin. “I’m not sure marriage is such a good idea. We hardly know each other.” She braved a look into his eyes. “For all I know you’re some wacko, looking for an easy target.”

His gaze was steady on hers. He didn’t laugh, didn’t smile, but took her comment seriously. “And do you really think that?”

“No,” she admitted. “But this is pretty unorthodox, you have to admit.”

“A business dealing, no more. I help you, you help me.”

He made it seem easy, when it wasn’t—not at all. This was her future and her baby’s that she was tampering with. Alex, who hadn’t relied on anyone in years, was suddenly considering becoming dependent on a relative stranger for her security and well-being. There was nothing simple about that. The one thing that kept her even considering it was the lack of choices she seemed to have lately.

She stepped back, putting a few extra inches of distance between them. “What I mean is, this is all happening so fast.”

“I know that. Which is why I had an idea this weekend. How about a trial period first? You come up to Windover, stay a while, before you make your decision. If you decide it won’t work, I’ll bring you back here.”

When the strain evaporated from her face like magic, he knew he’d done the right thing.

“I think that is a very sensible approach,” she responded. Her eyes cleared of worry and she treated him to another one of her genuine smiles.

“I certainly don’t want to chain you to the place if you’re going to be miserable for the next…how many months? I thought this might be a way to test the waters.”

“Four months,” she replied thinly. Chained to the place? The place wasn’t worrying her half as much as being chained to him. And it would likely be more than four months. Once the baby came she’d need some time to recover; to figure out what to do next.

Suddenly her eyes narrowed. “How long a trial period?” She knew he was operating on a timeline, and a short one, and she didn’t want to feel pressed to make this decision in the first forty-eight hours, or some silly thing.

“I don’t know. No longer than a week.”

Her breath came out in a rush, but her words came out cautiously. “OK. A week I can do.”

“In that case, let’s get going.”

She lifted her backpack as he spoke, surprised when his hands took the weight from her. Her shoulder tingled where his fingers touched.

She’d forgotten his penchant for chivalry, which was surprising, since he was constantly polite. It was hard to get used to that in a man. Simply not what she’d been used to.

“Thank you.”

“Where’s the rest?”

She looked at her toes. “That is the rest.”

“This is all you’ve got?” He halted by the door of the truck, his fingers on the handle. “No suitcase?”

“This is it,” she said firmly. She would not, could not, get into a discussion of why her life was packed into a solitary bag. Someday she’d settle, find something permanent. Then she’d make the home for herself that she longed for.

Wordlessly he opened the door, helped her in, and put the pack behind her seat. Nerves bubbled up in her stomach. What on earth was she doing? This was crazy. Insane. She knew next to nothing about him.

He got up into the cab beside her and started the engine as she fastened her seatbelt. At least she’d had the foresight to do a bit of checking on him of her own. Saturday she’d hit the library and the computers there, looking up information on the man and his ranch.

Surprisingly, there’d been several hits to her query, and she had read with fascination articles regarding Connor and, more interestingly, his family. His father had been prominent in the beef industry, and under his hand the farm had flourished. The Madsen ranch had been around for over a hundred years. Now she understood why Connor was determined to make it through this crisis.

One hit had turned up a recent “spotlight” on Connor—he had done an interview on innovative breeding. His picture had come up beside the print, and she’d stared at it. He sure didn’t look like some creep, despite the oddness of his proposal. He was twenty-nine, sexy as the day was long, and apparently smart and well respected. Her eyes darted to the imposing figure beside her, concentrating on the road.

She wished she’d found something more personal—a vital statistics sort of thing. Where was his family now? He’d only mentioned his grandmother. What were his interests, his quirks?

The only way she could find out that information was to talk to the man himself. She wasn’t at all sure she could marry him, even if it were only a legality. She’d be stuck with him for the next several months. There was her baby to consider. She had to do what was right by her child.

Her hand drifted to her tummy as a current country hit came on the radio and Connor exited on to the highway. It was too early for her to feel the baby’s movement, but already her shape was changing and her waist was thickening. It was her child in there. She hadn’t planned on having children for years yet, and certainly not alone. But she was attached to this life growing inside her, knew that no matter what, she wanted to be a good mother. How could she do that if she couldn’t even afford a place for them to live?

Alex stared out the window at the city passing by in a blur. A trial run was her best option right now. At least it left her a way to get out.

* * *

THE LANE WAS long and straight, unpaved, leading to an ordinary two-story house in white siding with blue shutters.

Alex stared at it, not sure what to think. She looked out both windows…there weren’t even any neighbors. No, wait. There. On that distant knoll to the southeast there was a speck that might have been a house. The land surrounding them was green and brown, spattered sparsely with trees. Basically empty. Isolated.

Beyond the house were outbuildings of various sizes. Alex, city girl, had no idea what they were used for beyond the basic “looking after cattle” umbrella. Another pickup sat in front of a white barn. To the side were tractors. Not the small, hayride sort of tractor she had been used to growing up in southern Ontario. But gargantuan monsters painted green and yellow. The kind she’d need a stepladder to get into.

Connor pulled up in front of the house and shut off the engine. “Here we are,” he said into the breach of silence.

“It’s huge,” she answered, opening the door and hopping down. “The sky…it seems endless.”

“Until you look over there.” He grinned at her, came to stand beside her and pointed west. Her eyes followed his finger and she gasped.

She had focused so hard on the house that she’d completely missed the view. It spread before her now, long and gray, a jagged expanse of Rocky Mountains that took her breath away. They were a long way away, yet close enough that she saw the varied shades, dark in the dips and bowls, lighter at the peaks, tipped with snow even in early June.

“That’s stunning.” Stunning didn’t cover it. Something in the mountains simply called to her, touched her deeply. Made her feel alive and strong.

“They keep me from feeling lonely,” Connor murmured, and she realized how close he was to her ear. There was something in his tone that touched her. All this space…and he lived here alone. Something about him in that moment made her realize that he had a gap in his life, an emptiness he wanted to fill.

She wondered what had put it there, but was in no position to ask. And she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know the answer either. She sure didn’t want him to delve into her past, so she said nothing.

“Why don’t you show me the inside?” She changed the subject, pulling her eyes from the scenery and adopting a more practical air.

He grabbed her bag from the truck and led the way inside. She took off her sneakers, placing them beside his boots on the mat in the entry, and followed him past a living room and a stairway to a large, homey kitchen.

“You hungry? We should have some lunch.” He put her bag on an old wooden rocker and turned to face her. His jaw seemed taut with tension, and she realized that he was finding this as odd and uncomfortable as she was. Now, here, in his house, it became ever more clear that they were practically strangers.

“I could use a sandwich or something.”

He took meat and cheese out of the fridge, condiments, and grabbed a loaf of bread from a wooden breadbox on the countertop. “I don’t know what you like,” he offered apologetically. “So we can fix our own, I guess.” Silence fell, and to break it Connor began stacking meat and slices of cheese on his bread. He reached for a bottle of mustard, looked up, and saw an odd expression on Alex’s face.

“Are you OK?” His hand halted, poised above his sandwich.

“It’s the mustard. I’ll be fine.” She swallowed visibly.

He stared at her, his mouth gaping open with some sort of fresh horror, and a drop of bright yellow landed on his corned beef. He looked down, his expression horrified at the offending blot, wondering if it was enough to make her ill. God, he hoped not!

Connor heard her snort and looked up, confused. Her hand was over her mouth and she was trying futilely not to laugh. Before he knew it, he was laughing too.

“Oh, the look on your face,” she gasped. “Pregnancy does make cowards out of men!”

Putting the mustard bottle down on the cupboard, he chuckled while she caught her breath. “Do you feel as awkward as I do?” he asked.

“Incredibly.”

The laugh had done much to dissolve the polite tension that had risen between them. “I don’t want you to feel out of place here. I want you to feel at home.”

“I want that too.”

“You’ll find I’m easy to please, Alex.” He smiled easily as he said it, but her cheeks colored. When he realized she’d taken what he’d said a little too literally, his smile faltered as they stared into each other’s eyes. He became aware of the way her breasts rose and fell beneath her T-shirt. She was still breathless from laughing.

“I don’t need much,” she murmured. “A place to sleep and some good food. I want to try to help out in any way I can. I’m not used to being idle.”

“Farm work isn’t for you.”

Her mouth thinned. “I’m not going to break, Connor. Women have been having babies for thousands of years.”

“I realize that.” His eyes didn’t relent. “But you’re not doing heavy farm work. There’s a garden behind the house if you like the outdoors. I don’t want you to be bored, Alex, but I don’t expect you to be some indentured servant either. Honestly, if I didn’t have to cook at the end of the day it would be a gift from heaven.”

Choices. Time that was her own, to do as she wished—making dinner or tending the tiny plants of the garden in the fresh air and sunshine. The freedom to clean, do laundry, on her own time.

Perhaps that sounded mundane and tedious, but to Alex it seemed wonderful. Growing up, she’d always envied her school chums whose moms had baked cookies for class parties, or who had invited her over for home-cooked meals. Not to be unfair, her parents had been great, but their lifestyle hadn’t exactly been traditional. It would be almost perfect. If only…

If only it weren’t such a sham.

Still, if he were willing to go through with it, the least she could do was carry her own weight.