The Double Heart Ranch. Leanna Wilson
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truck?”
His throat dried up like Cactus Creek had last summer. The woman had soft expectant eyes that seemed to peer right into his soul. She looked as if she’d seen a lot in her young years and might not be shocked by the truth. Like others in this town. But his suddenly thick tongue stumbled over the words like a teenage boy talking to a pretty new girl at school.
“Is it a secret?” she asked, leaning forward.
In a way. But not for long. If anyone discovered his plan, gossip would spread like wildfire during a drought. That’s what had him stumped. How would it affect Haley? He toyed with his coffee spoon, turning it over and over. Finally he found his voice and answered “Me.”
Frowning, she dipped her chin. “Me what?”
“Me.” He thumped his chest. “I’m for sale.”
Her eyes widened. For a moment she only blinked. Then her jaw snapped shut. “Well, that’s a new one.” She pushed against the table to make her escape. “Pardon me for intruding.”
He stopped her with a hand on her arm, stunning himself with a sudden need to unload his troubles. But why to this stranger? Maybe it was the sweetness of her smile, the knowing glimmer in her eyes or maybe it was the fact that she didn’t know him. Whatever it was, he figured she might understand. And he desperately needed to bounce his crazy idea off someone. “That didn’t come out right. It’s not what you think. Let me explain.”
She hesitated. Her eyes darkened, like oak leaves in late summer.
When he felt the muscles in her arm relax, he released his grip. His fingers burned where they’d touched her smooth bare skin. “Sorry.”
She didn’t answer, just stared at him with those perceptive eyes and waited. Waited for him to continue.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, settled his hand on his Stetson which lay on the seat beside him. He wished he’d kept silent. And kept his damn hands to himself. But he hadn’t. Ever since Haley had broken his heart three weeks ago with her innocent questions, he hadn’t been himself. He ran the palm of his hand down the top of his jeans-covered thigh. Now he owed this woman an explanation for his odd behavior.
What had the waitress said her name was? “Elise?”
She nodded.
“I’m Cole. Cole Dalton. I own a spread just on the outskirts of town.” He wanted her to know he wasn’t loco. He was local. He had roots here that went back four generations. She didn’t have to fear him. But he saw only wariness and a thin slice of interest in her eyes.
She nodded again, still waiting for his explanation.
“Hell, maybe I am crazy.” He thrust his fingers through his already rumpled hair. “I’m really not trying to sell myself.” But it felt like it.
He glanced around the inside of the diner. It was empty, except for the clattering in the back as Chuck, the owner, banged pots and pans in the kitchen, getting ready for the lunch crowd which would descend on the diner in about thirty minutes.
“You don’t have to worry,” she said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I can keep things to myself.”
He took a deep breath and then plunged in feet first. “I’m trying to find a mail-order bride.”
Elise was sure she hadn’t heard him right. Was this sexy cowboy with the dark-brown hair and sky-blue eyes trying to tell her he couldn’t find a wife on his own? What kind of a town was this if a handsome man had to advertise for a wife?
Then she stopped herself. She’d fallen for a pair of friendly eyes and a dimpled smile before. Maybe this cowboy was simply feeding her a line, like Rusty had. Or maybe the women in town knew him better than she did…and there was a good reason why no one wanted to marry him. Still, the red hue brightening the tips of his ears told her he wasn’t proud of the fact that he was taking out an ad for a wife.
Wary, yet even more curious by the minute, she asked, “Women that scarce around here?”
He shrugged. “Most are married, sixty-five and widowed, or young enough for me to risk a jail sentence.”
“I see.” But she didn’t. It made about as much sense as her following Rusty to this desolate area of Texas where tumbleweeds outnumbered the cattle. She knew folks did odd things for strange, sometimes inexplicable, reasons. She admitted Cole had piqued her curiosity. She rested her elbows on the edge of the table and clasped her hands. “Amarillo’s only an hour or so drive from here. You don’t think you can find a wife the conventional way?”
“Tried that once. Failed.”
Something in his voice hinted at deep-seated pain. Boy, could she relate. She hadn’t fared so well in the love arena, either. She’d thought she’d been in love. Thought it had been mutual. But she realized now, she’d been looking for a home, a family, and she’d wanted—needed—more than that restless cowboy had to give.
“It happens,” she said, recognizing the pain in her chest was not agony but embarrassment over her own foolhardiness. She had her own reasons for giving up on love, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a romantic at heart or that she believed this good-looking rancher should. Surely he could find himself a woman who’d love him. “One failed marriage doesn’t mean you can’t find someone else.”
“I’m not looking for love.” His voice was deep and flat, almost devoid of emotion, and sent a scintillating shiver down her spine. “I simply want a wife.”
“Why?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, excuse me, it’s probably not my business, but couldn’t you just hire a maid or something? For whatever it is you’re looking for?”
Her face flamed. Maybe he wanted sex. And she’d just suggested he hire out…Oh, heavens!
His grip on the coffee mug turned his knuckles white. He had hard, calloused hands, accustomed to hard labor. She wondered if his heart was as battered as his hands. “I want a mother for my daughter.”
His answer stunned her, knocking her back against the seat. Suddenly she saw this man in a whole new light. He was a single father, probably frustrated with his role, irritated with the stranglehold of family obligations. He probably wanted to dump the burden on some unsuspecting female. Rankled, she said, “Then hire a nanny.”
“Been there already. I need someone more permanent than a hired hand who can up and leave at the drop of a hat.”
Maybe he was thinking about his kid more than himself. Maybe. Then again, more than a wife he might need a whack on the head for a good attitude adjustment. “How old is your kid?”
His eyes brightened, the deep blue turning the color of a radiant summer sky, at the mention of his daughter. Then he smiled. Really smiled. Elise felt her heart lurch. She’d been right—he did have dimples. Which made her stomach flutter.
“Haley’s five going on sixteen,” he said.
As suddenly as her animosity had risen like a churning river, emotions dammed her throat. Her own father had never shown such pride in speaking about her. In fact, he’d never done anything for her but dump her at an orphanage when she was twelve days old and make darn sure she could never find him or her mother again.
But this man Cole…this rancher…smiled when he talked about his daughter.
She cleared her throat, trying to dull the dazzling effect of his smile. But she couldn’t forget the shimmer of joy in his eyes or the vibration of pride in his voice when he spoke of his precocious child.
Remembering the way she’d given the nuns fits with her own antics, she gave a soft chuckle and fingered the apron around her waist. She could tell that Cole’s daughter had wrapped her father around her little finger. It made Elise long for what she’d never had—would never have. “I was described the same way when I was a kid.”
Cole’s smile faded into a worried