The Double Heart Ranch

“I’m going to try my damnedest.”

The conviction in his voice made her believe him. Her heart clenched into a tight knot as she met his determined gaze. His firm, square jaw told her he could do anything he set his mind to. For some crazy reason she wanted to help him. Uneasy with her attraction to the rugged rancher with the soulful eyes, she tapped her finger on his pad of paper. “Then you’ll need a damn good ad. Maybe we should start with what paper you were thinking of advertising in? Desert Springs?”

“Not a smart move. I need a more populated place.” He lowered his voice as if Chuck might overhear in the kitchen. “Where folks don’t know me.” He shook his head. “Not because I’m embarrassed or worried about what they might think. I simply want the marriage to look real. If folks here learn the truth, then it will only be a matter of time before Haley figures out it’s all a charade.”

An emotion Elise hadn’t felt in far too long tightened her chest. This man would do anything for his daughter. His sweet tenderness touched her in a way no one had in years. “That seems wise. So maybe you should advertise in Dallas or Houston.”

“Both, probably.”

“Okay.” She reached for his pad of paper and pen. “What kind of a wife are you looking for?”

His brow furrowed, pulling his dark eyebrows together. “Well…someone who likes kids. Obviously.” He clasped his hands together, tapped his thumbs nervously. “Someone who’s kind, sincere. Who’d be content to live on a ranch. A down-to-earth woman, who’s not caught up in fashion or getting her nails done every week.” His gaze locked on Elise’s and made her swallow hard with anticipation. “A woman who wants to be a part of a family.”

His answer struck a vulnerable nerve in Elise, and she felt the resonating pain all the way through her soul. Her heart pumped as if it might burst loose from the confines of her chest. He hadn’t said “pretty, able to do backbreaking work and a good cook.” He was offering a family. What she’d always wanted.

Trying to concentrate, paraphrasing his words, she scribbled notes on the page. The letters blurred as hot, aching tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. Ashamed of her weakness, she blinked them away as she had so often in her life and clenched the pen tightly.

Pushing back a glimmer of hope, she managed to ask, “Anything else?”

He nodded. “Someone who can make a commitment and stick with it.”

She wondered if he were looking for the impossible. She’d learned long ago that promises were meant to be broken. At least by others. When she’d wrestled her turbulent emotions under control, she looked up at him and crossed her arms over her chest. “And what do you have to offer this make-believe marriage?”

This time he sat back against the seat. “What?”

“You want some woman to move out here and live with you as man and wife, tend to your child, and I assume do her wifely duties like cooking and cleaning and…” Heat stung her cheeks and she glanced away, unable to meet his intense gaze.

A palpable pause thrummed between them. Elise toyed with her pen, turning it over and over between her numb fingers. Why had she gotten involved with this man’s problem? Why did he make her yearn for something she’d long ago given up on?

She didn’t care if he found a wife or what he and this new wife would or would not do in an intimate setting. Good grief! What had gotten into her?

“Look,” she said, breaking the silence, “you have to bring something to the table, something of value. Why would a woman who doesn’t know or love you want to marry you? What are you offering?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, making dark brown tufts stand on end. The lines around his eyes and those bracketing his mouth deepened with tension. “I hadn’t really thought in those terms.” He rocked forward, then back. “But you’re right. She ought to know what she’s getting. I’m no lottery ticket. No real prize. At least that’s what my ex-wife said.”

She’d almost expected him to start cataloging his selling points. Rusty certainly would have. But she was beginning to realize that Cole Dalton wasn’t like the showboat she’d followed out west.

After a slow, thoughtful breath, Cole stated, “I’m offering a home. A family.” His mouth compressed into a firm, thin line. “I make a decent living. Nothing fancy. But I can provide for a wife and my child. I’m honest. Faithful. And loyal.” He gave a sputtering laugh. “Jeez, I sound like a hound dog for sale.”

She smiled at his analogy. He was anything but. And much, much more. Her pulse skittered at the thought of the possibilities. More anxious to hear his response to her next question than she cared to admit, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Do you want more kids?”

He blew out a pent-up breath. “You ask tough questions. Are you sure you didn’t take a class at the Barbara Walter’s school of journalism?”

She chuckled. “I’m sure.”

He turned his attention to the sun-splattered window that looked out onto the main thoroughfare that bisected Desert Springs. In the distance, a car horn blared. A furry dog pranced past, hunting for a scrap of food or his owner.

Elise watched Cole—the sternness of his profile, the decisive way his nose slanted toward his chin, the hard curve of his determined jaw.

Finally, his lips thinned, and he spoke. “I used to want a whole passel of kids. I was raised in the house where I live now. It’s a rambling old place. Been on our land for four generations.” He rubbed his palms together, and then clasped his hands, folding his long fingers, making Elise remember his gentle yet firm touch earlier. A warmth spread through her limbs, and she had a hard time concentrating on his next words. “I was an only child. It was a lonely existence.”

It sounded heavenly to Elise. She imagined the total adoration of two parents being focused on one child—her. The air in her lungs compressed.

“My folks wanted more kids, but were never able to have any more. I always wanted to give them plenty of grandkids, to fill up all the bedrooms in the house. Hear the laughter…”

“The shrieks. The arguments,” Elise added, remembering what it was like to grow up in an orphanage with at least twelve kids to a room. She’d always dreamed of a peaceful home, some place quiet and calm. She’d imagined a town much like Desert Springs where not much happened but where plenty of folks cared about each other, a place she could be a citizen, a neighbor, a member of the P.T.A. As she’d grown older, she’d started helping out with the younger kids. She’d enjoyed spending time with them, helping them get dressed, supervising their playtime. And she’d started dreaming of a family of her own.

She placed a hand over her stomach. Someday, she thought, someday soon. She wouldn’t have all of her dream. But she’d have a small, precious part.

“Maybe that was simply a fairy tale I’d conjured up,” Cole said. “Maybe it would have been more chaotic than I imagined.” He shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to discuss the possibility of more kids with the woman who answers the ad to be my wife.”

“You sound like there will be only one.”

In an aw-shucks manner, he shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’ll be lucky if there is one.”

She had a feeling women would flock to this little town on the edge of nowhere to meet this tender cowboy and his child. Suddenly a part of her didn’t want to help with the advertisement. Because she’d started contemplating something foolish and inconceivable.

Maybe, just maybe, his solution was the answer she’d been looking for.

One week later, Elise jounced the borrowed truck over the cattle guard and down the graveled drive toward a large, two-story farmhouse that looked better than Cole had described. And even better than she’d imagined. A white picket fence surrounded it. Tiny pink flowers in the yard battled the May heat. A solitary tree leaned toward the side of the house in the direction she’d learned the wind always blew here in west Texas. On either side of the house were sprawling fields dotted with rusty brown-and-white speckled cows.

A hot, stiff breeze blew through the open window of the truck and brought the scent of earth and animals. She parked in front of the house, breathed in the warm air, absorbed the sights and knew she’d finally come home. This was where she wanted to stay. Now, she simply had to convince Cole that she was the wife he needed.

The truck’s door squeaked as she opened it and stepped out of the dusty cab. She fluffed out her loose-fitting skirt that felt sticky against the backs of her thighs from the oppressive heat in Chuck’s non-air-conditioned pickup. Sunshine warmed her shoulders and made her squint as she turned toward the house.

Maybe she should have called first. But then if she had, Cole might have turned her down flat. No, she had a better chance in person. Not that she had much to offer, she thought, in the looks department. She was of average height, but her features had always seemed plain to her. She was too pale and had too many freckles. She’d never measured up to other children at the orphanage who’d been adopted early. Meanwhile, she’d been left waiting…waiting for someone to want her.

Well, she wasn’t going to wait any longer. She’d done her homework by asking questions about Cole Dalton. She’d learned he was a respected rancher in the community. No one had a bad word to say against him. All had confirmed what she’d suspected—he cared deeply for his daughter. What more could she ask for than an honest, upstanding man who loved being a father?

So what if love wasn’t a bargaining chip? She’d realized a long time ago that Prince Charming wasn’t going to ride up and save her. There wasn’t always a perfect situation. She’d take what she could get. If she could get Cole.

She marched up the steps to the house and rang the doorbell. Impatiently she tapped her foot. Her nerves were tangled up like a ball of yarn. What would Cole say when he saw her? Would he laugh at her audacity? Would he turn her away? Her insides twisted and knotted, but she squared her shoulders. She’d been rejected before. If Cole laughed at her now, it wouldn’t kill her.

“Hello.” The voice came from behind her, and she swung around to find Cole at the bottom of the steps.

Her gaze stuck to his sweat-slicked bare chest. His rock-hard, suntanned muscles gleamed in the sunlight as if he were a marble statue. But she knew he was flesh and blood. She’d felt his electric touch the week before. Now she couldn’t stop staring at the play of muscles along his chest. Her mouth went bone dry, and she couldn’t have swallowed to save her life.

Casually, he leaned against a white-painted post. With his thumb he tipped his cowboy hat backwards on his head, framing his face with shadows and sunlight. Slowly her gaze slid down the length of him. He wore tight-fitting faded jeans and a pair of scuffed boots. At that moment she began to doubt the wisdom of coming here.

“Elise?” he asked, his voice crisp as an early morning chill.

She nodded, feeling as if the heat had zapped her ability to think or speak. Her purse slipped off her shoulder, and she grabbed for it. Twisting the strap around her fingers and cutting off the circulation, she hoped blood would rush back to her brain and she’d be able to answer his simple question. “Hi.”

His mouth remained firm and unmoving.

She scuffed the soles of her shoes against the porch planks. What am I doing here? The silence echoed between them. Cole lifted his Stetson, ran his fingers through his thick brown hair and then lowered the brim. It shaded his eyes and thoughts from her, unnerving her even more.

She had to get a firm grip on herself and take charge. “I came about the ad.”

Cole’s silence weighed heavily on her. He crossed his arms over his chest, making his shoulders appear as wide as the Texas landscape.

She swallowed the last of her pride. “Have you sent it to the papers yet?”

“Nope.”

“Good. I mean, uh…” Her thoughts became scrambled beneath the heat of his gaze. “I have an idea that you might want to consider. That is, if you’re still interested.”

He gave a slow nod. “It’s warm today.” He ran his hand down his chest. Sweat clung to his skin, making it shimmer in the sunlight.

Her pulse skittered.

“I could probably hunt us up something cool to drink. Come on in.”

“Sure.” She clasped her purse at her waist, feeling as awkward as a girl about to ask a boy to a Sadie Hawkins dance. “That’d be nice.”

He walked up the steps in a slow, sauntering way that only a cowboy could manage. He pushed open the door and nodded for her to enter ahead of him. Doffing his hat, he hung it on a peg inside the door.

It took a moment for Elise’s eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dimness inside the house. Then her mouth opened with surprise. The entryway was wide and spacious—nothing fancy, but homey in a country-fashioned way, with warm colors of wheat fields and sunlit green pastures.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll go throw on a shirt.” He gave her a sheepish expression that caused a new heat wave to roll through her. “I wasn’t expecting company. I was working down at the barn when I saw you drive up in…was that Chuck’s Ford?”

Unable to formulate an answer, much less speak, she nodded. Her boss had let her borrow his truck a couple of times when she’d had doctor appointments. And he’d let her borrow it again today. No questions asked.

“I’ll be right back.” He turned and then pointed. “The kitchen’s right through there.”

Trying to forget the sight of his muscled back and the width of his shoulders, Elise turned in the way he’d pointed. She walked through a wood-paneled living area, complete with a beige sofa and television console. She glimpsed a wall of photographs but resisted the temptation to study them closely and went on, into the kitchen.

It was a sunny, cozy nook, with white-painted cabinets, clean counters and colorful pictures that Cole’s daughter must have drawn stuck on the refrigerator. He’d described his home accurately—nothing elaborate, but tastefully decorated and downright homey. Her chest clenched with need and hope.

When she heard the sound of Cole’s approaching footsteps, his boots clomping against the hardwood floors, she greeted him with a smile and a cold glass of ice water. “Since you’ve been working, I thought you might be thirsty.”

“Thanks,” he said, offering her a restrained smile in return. He downed the water in a few greedy gulps. The muscles along his throat mesmerized her. She had to shake off his effect on her. She wasn’t interested in marrying Cole because of his obvious good looks. She simply wanted a home. Needed one. And if it came with a handsome husband, well, so much the better.

Together, they settled at the kitchen table. Cole straddled a chair and rested his elbows on the wooden table’s edge. Elise sat demurely across from him, crossing her ankles, folding her hands tightly in her lap.

After he downed a second glass of water, he scratched his brow thoughtfully. “Did you think of something else we should add?”

Panic arched through her. Oh, God! What if he doesn’t think I’m the right type to be a wife? Like Rusty. What if Cole doesn’t believe I’m good enough to be a mother to his daughter?

Her heart pounded with dread. But she ignored the doubts spinning through her head. She wasn’t going to sit back and wait as she’d done her whole life. She had to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and get on with her life, make a future for herself. Here was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

“No, I think the copy for the ad was just right. In fact, it was so perfect, that I started thinking…” She swallowed the hard lump in her throat.

“About…?” His steady gaze made her stomach flutter.

“About…” Her voice squeaked. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “That I might…that maybe you’d consider…” Oh, God, she was bungling this for sure. “I’d like to volunteer—” she gritted her teeth and forced herself to say the words that were sticking in her throat “—to be your mail-order bride.”

Elise could hear the blood pumping through her veins, echoing in her ears. Her face burned. She wished she could sink right through the floor. She felt like she was seven years old again, standing before a couple who’d come to look her over—who’d given the slight shake of their heads that she didn’t measure up. She wasn’t good enough to be their daughter.

A sharp need sliced through her heart. She wanted to bolt right out of her chair and race for Chuck’s pickup before she suffered the same humiliation by Cole. But she planted her feet firmly on the floor. Not this time. This time it was too important. This time it wasn’t just her pride, it was her life on the line. She clenched her hands into fists and lifted her chin, defying him to laugh at her.

But he didn’t. Instead, Cole eased back in his chair, clasping his hands over his taut abdomen. His blue eyes narrowed to slits. “Why?”

“Why?” she repeated, uncertainty invading her once again. She shifted in her seat, recrossed her ankles, clutched her hands together, trying to stop the trembling inside her.

He tapped his thumbs together with a slow, deliberate beat, as if counting the seconds, making her heart race. “Why would you be interested in living here, way out in the country, mothering a child you don’t know? Marrying a man you don’t love?”

She found her voice and a new strength inside her that she hadn’t known existed before now. “It’s simple.” Or so she’d thought at one time. “I’m pregnant.”

Chapter Two

If a rabbit had hopped out of his Stetson, Cole wouldn’t have been more surprised. He blinked once, twice, letting Elise’s statement sink in. Then he slid his gaze over her slim figure as she sat at his kitchen table. He noticed her full breasts beneath the lightweight cotton top, her flat stomach and her narrow, almost boyish, hips beneath the full, flowing skirt.

She didn’t look pregnant. But then he wasn’t an expert on women. Especially pregnant ones. He certainly didn’t relish the idea of having another pregnant woman in his house. His ex-wife had been a nightmare to live with while she’d carried Haley. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—go through that again.

But Elise’s confession piqued his curiosity and made him wonder what she truly wanted. Was it to marry him, have her baby, and then leave him with another burden, another responsibility, like his ex-wife had? The memory twisted his insides.

“How far along are you?” he asked, his shoulders hunched forward as kinks formed along the tightening ridge of his spine.

“Three and a half months.” She pressed her hand against her lower abdomen and a soft smile curled her lips, making his insides tighten with an interest he didn’t want or need. “I haven’t started to show much yet. But I can’t wait to be big and round and start wearing maternity clothes.”

His eyebrows arched with disbelief. His ex-wife certainly hadn’t been thrilled with the prospect of gaining weight, having swollen feet or accumulating stretch marks. He’d taken the brunt of her anger as her body had changed over the long nine—actually nine and a half—months.

He stared at Elise for a full minute, pondering her statement, questioning whether he believed her or not. “You don’t mind being pregnant?”

A smile bloomed across her face, transforming her ordinary freckled features into a work of art, worthy of a museum. It made her even more beautiful, more radiant than before. He had a hard time concentrating on his need to give her a resounding “no.”

A tightness twisted his chest, and a lump formed in his throat. Damn. He could picture her in his mind’s eye with a softly rounded belly, her auburn hair teasing her shoulders and that same heart-warming smile that reached her eyes and his heart. He imagined what it would be like to hold her, to feel her soft curves melt against him and taste her full lips.

Whoa! What the hell am I doing? Putting the cart way ahead of the horse. She’s pregnant, for God’s sake! He reminded himself again and again until the appealing image vanished beneath an onslaught of painful memories.

It didn’t matter if he was attracted to her. When she’d first admitted her reason for coming to his ranch today, he’d felt a quickening of his pulse. He’d thought his luck was turning. He had hoped the woman who volunteered to be his mail-order bride would be attractive. But it wasn’t a requirement. It was a bonus. And he’d felt damn lucky all of a sudden.

Then she’d hit him with news that was like a donkey kick to the gut. He felt the impact shattering his hope like glass. It did matter that Elise was pregnant. It mattered a lot.

Now what the hell was he going to do about her proposal?

“Oh, yes!” she exclaimed. “I love being pregnant. I don’t even mind the nausea.” She smoothed her hand over her abdomen in a protective gesture, as if guarding the baby growing inside her. Paula had never acted maternal during or after her pregnancy. Nothing could have prepared Cole for the remarkable difference he saw in Elise. And the response it provoked inside him.

“But I never thought,” she added, “I’d be single and pregnant. That wasn’t in my plans.”

He knew all about failed plans. Watching Elise, he had an urge to move closer to her, to wrap a protective arm around her, to…He stopped himself again. His mind spun with questions, not only aimed at Elise but also at himself. If he were to marry her, and that was a big if, then he’d have more than the added responsibility of a wife. He’d have another child. Another mouth to feed. A truckload of new responsibilities.

My God, what am I doing? Was he actually contemplating the possibility of marrying this unwed mother-to-be?

Drawing in a steadying breath, he asked, “Do you know who the father is?”

Her shoulders jerked, and a spark ignited in her hazel eyes, making them blaze with defiance. “Of course! What kind of a woman do you think I am?”

He shrugged. Hell, he didn’t know her past, her character, morals or even her plans for the future. He certainly didn’t know if she was the type of woman he wanted influencing his impressionable daughter. Why, the father of her baby might be any one of a dozen men! “I don’t know.”

Her mouth opened and then closed abruptly into a thin, disapproving line. She lowered her eyes and smoothed her palms over her skirt. Her hands trembled.

“I suppose that’s true.” An inner strength fortified her voice, making it stronger and steadier than she looked. “I had an opportunity to question you the other day. I guess it’s your turn. You have a right to know what you’re getting yourself into. So go ahead. Ask any question you’d like.”

Given the okay to pry into her personal life, he asked, “Where is the father?”

“I’m not sure at the moment. Rusty wasn’t interested in being a father or in settling down so he moved on.” She shook her head slightly, dismayed by her own circumstances. “He’s on the rodeo circuit.” She gave a soft, disbelieving chuckle. “I thought that sounded romantic once. I thought it was a traditional kind of profession. You know, handed down from father to son, cowboy to cowboy, through the generations.”

She sucked in a harsh breath. “Boy, was I wrong.” Her hands twisted in her lap, her fingers tightening on each other. “I also thought I was in love.” Her voice softened, but the tension in her coiled like a steel spring, making her features look stark and pale. “Maybe I was in love with the idea of love. I naively followed him to a few rodeos. We were headed to Amarillo when I discovered I was pregnant. That’s how I ended up in Desert Springs.”

“He just left you here?” Cole asked, his blood pressure spiking with disbelief.

Elise nodded. “Without a cent or a way to—”

She stopped herself and her lashes shuttered her eyes, hiding her emotions from Cole. A bright red hue stole up her neck and deepened the color on her cheeks.

His hands curled into fists. How could a man do that? How could a man live with himself after walking away from the woman who carried his child?