The Pregnant Proposition. Sandra Paul

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The Pregnant Proposition - Sandra  Paul


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to highlight the faint lines etched beside his eyes, the creases in his lean, tanned cheeks and the stern set of his mouth.

      He wasn’t smiling; he rarely smiled anymore, Ally realized. He’d always been rather serious, but at least he used to be more approachable. It had been big brother Cole whom Ally had run to after their mother had suddenly died in a horseback riding accident when Ally was only four. And twenty-year-old Cole who’d comforted her when their father, after a long heartrending battle, finally succumbed to lung cancer when she was fourteen.

      Remembering those dark times, Ally sighed, and Cole glanced at her. His blue eyes softened as he saw the plate in her hands.

      “Come to fatten me up, Al?” he asked as she walked toward him.

      “I noticed you didn’t have dessert earlier.” She set the plate on a pile of papers littering the big desk. “And you might as well enjoy some while you can, because when we start the kitchen remodeling—”

      “Actually,” Cole interrupted her, “I wanted to talk to you about that. We’re going to have to wait with the kitchen.”

      Ally sank in the chair in front of the desk to stare at him in dismay. “Why?”

      “Because we just don’t have the money right now to start a major project on the house.” Reading the disappointment in her expression, he added apologetically, “I was going to discuss it with you, but I just couldn’t seem to find the right time.”

      Her lips tightened. “You mean you couldn’t find the right way to tell me that the new kitchen that was so all-fired important when you were planning on bringing a wife home became considerably less so when it came to your sister.”

      “That’s not the way it was at all,” he said, deep voice sharpening defensively. “I knew we had to have a new computer—” he nodded at the machine that sat center stage, glowing softly on the broad oak desk “—but I didn’t expect to have to replace the engine on the pickup this year as well as get another baler. You know we can’t do without either of those, and the new computer will make charting the breeding records, as well as doing the books, a hundred times faster and easier.”

      “And buying a new stove and dishwasher would make my work a hundred times faster and easier, too.” Ally shook her head in frustration. “For goodness’ sake, Cole, the oven door falls off every time I open it too far. Do you know how hard it is to pull out a pan of hot biscuits with one hand, while trying to keep the oven door on with the other?”

      “Okay, I’m sorry.” He sighed, running a hand through his thick dark hair. “I’ll get Luke or Linc to weld a new hinge on it. And as soon as we can afford it, I’ll buy you a new stove. I promise.”

      Ally wasn’t impressed with his assurance. “If you let Vorquez go, we could afford the stove right now.”

      Ally knew that George Vorquez, the land claims man Cole had hired to prospect for oil, was one of the most respected geologists in the county. But if their father, who had the Circle C tested years ago, hadn’t met with success, she doubted they’d have any now.

      But Cole’s jaw tightened. He picked up his fork and moodily stabbed at the crust of the cobbler. “Oil’s there, Al. I know it is.

      It just takes time and a bit of money to find it. And then we’ll be richer than we ever dreamed of being.”

      “So instead of putting in a new kitchen, you’re taking a gamble that we’ll find oil.”

      “It isn’t a gamble, Ally,” Cole said firmly. “It’s an investment.”

      “Fine. Whatever.” Ally refused to argue with him on a subject she knew he wouldn’t budge on. “The point is, Cole, you’re not being fair to me.”

      “I said we’ll fix the stove—”

      “Yeah, when someone gets around to it.” Her lips compressed. “Besides, it’s not just that. It’s other things, too.”

      “Like what?”

      “Like.” She tried to think of a recent example. “Like when you got the cell phones. You gave one to Kyle, one to each of the twins and kept the other one for yourself. Without discussing it with me at all.”

      “I wasn’t trying to slight you, Al. The plan just came with four, so I handed them out to the boys, and figured you could share with me.”

      “I don’t want to share with you. I want my own.”

      “But why? Who are you planning on calling?”

      “No one,” she admitted, giving up on the battle. “And there’s no one planning to call me.”

      His face softened. “Sure there is. Tell you what—you can have the cell. I’ll share with Kyle.”

      She looked at him helplessly. He just didn’t get it. The problem was, she didn’t want to always feel like Cole—or the others—were doing her a favor. She wanted them to recognize that she worked just as hard as they did. That she’d earned her share.

      “It’s not the phone, Cole. It’s that you don’t treat me like an equal. You don’t discuss anything with me. Not anything concerning the ranch or the house. Not even Bride’s Price.”

      Cole’s frowning eyes lifted to meet hers. “What about it?”

      “Don’t you think you should have consulted me before refusing Troy’s offer?”

      Cole shifted his gaze back to the cobbler. He gave it another poke. “No.”

      “That’s my land, Cole.”

      Setting his fork aside, he lifted his dark eyebrows as he met her eyes once again. “No one says it isn’t. But I’m the one Eileen put in charge to look out for your best interests.”

      Ally folded her arms across her chest. “And that’s what you were doing today? Protecting my interests?”

      “Of course. What else would I be doing? We need that grass for the herd.”

      “Don’t give me that. We have more than enough range for the herd we’re running now. You know and I know that if anyone else had wanted to lease that land, you would have agreed in a red-hot minute. The only reason you refused is because it was Troy O’Malley.”

      Cole’s stern mouth curled in a grim smile. “Seems like a good enough reason to me.”

      “Well, not to me.”

      His smile faded and his blue gaze narrowed on her face. “Since when have you become so concerned about Troy O’Malley?”

      She gave a short laugh, waving a dismissing hand at the thought of mocking green eyes. “I’m not concerned with him at all. What I want—what I need—is that money he offered. To put my own plans into action.”

      “What plans?”

      “To move into Eileen’s house.”

      Cole snorted. “You’re kidding me. Why would you want to move out there?”

      “To be able to do what I want.”

      Genuinely perplexed, Cole frowned at her. “That’s ridiculous. What can you do at Eileen’s house that you can’t do here?”

       I could paint the place pink, hang lace curtains at all the windows if I decide to, without anyone groaning about it. I wouldn’t have to clean up constantly after four messy men. I could put on lipstick and eye shadow—experiment with makeup—without being teased that I look like a rodeo clown. I could take hour-long baths without an irritable male pounding on the door asking “Have you died in there?” And I could go out on dates, stay out all night if I choose to, without one or all of my four brothers intimidating the hell out of the poor guy I’d gone out with.

      She was fed up with being the fifth, inferior Cabrerra brother, Ally realized tiredly. She just wanted to be


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