The Pregnant Proposition. Sandra Paul
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start my own business. Breeding and training horses.”
Cole’s expression tightened. “That’s a dream, Ally. There’s no money in that.” Impatiently, he shook his head. “Cattle is our concern.”
“Our major concern. I want to start a side business, breeding and training Peruvian Pasos for working herds and pleasure riding.”
“Peruvian Pasos,” he repeated flatly. “What’s wrong with good old American quarter horses?”
She shrugged. “Nothing. But I want to develop Peruvians.”
He took a deep breath, clearly summoning patience. “Fine. But we can’t afford to support two households right now, or invest in more horses. Maybe in a few years—”
“I don’t want to wait a few years, any more than you want to wait years to find out if there’s oil on our land. Not if I don’t have to. And leasing to Troy means that I don’t have to.”
“I’m not leasing Bride’s Price to Troy O’Malley.”
Ally’s spine stiffened, and her gaze narrowed on her brother’s stubborn face. “No?” she asked softly. “Is that because he’s an O’Malley? Or because he stole Misty from you?”
She shouldn’t have said it; Ally regretted the comment as soon as it left her lips. Cole jerked as if she’d slapped him and his expression turned to stone.
When he finally replied, he didn’t answer her questions but stated in a flat, hard voice he’d never used to her before, “O’Malley is not getting that lease. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Not waiting for her reply, he stood and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Ally sat for a moment, frozen in place by the force of his anger, hurt constricting her throat and causing a prickly burning behind her eyes.
Then an answering anger rose up inside her. Blinking the pain away, she glared at the closed door.
“Oh, yes, there is something I can do, brother dear,” she said softly. “I can get married.”
Chapter Two
“During the breeding season, it is wise to observe the cattle from a distance, using field glasses if necessary, to remain unseen and thus avoid influencing their natural behavior.
“Don’t hesitate to enlist the aid of other experts in this endeavor. They may have knowledge that you lack…. ”
—Successful Breeding: A Guide for the Cattleman
Resolving to marry was one thing; finding a husband quite another. Especially if all the single men in town were intimidated by your four older brothers.
Well, she simply had to overcome that obstacle, Ally decided, lying in bed that night, pondering the problem. What she needed to do was get close enough to her prospect—once she had a prospect—to explain her proposition of a temporary marriage before her brothers could chase him off. Getting dressed up would help her get close. Every woman over the age of five knew that men—like bulls—were easily distracted and attracted by clothing. Flutter a red cape—or a sexy red dress—in front of them, and they almost couldn’t help chasing it.
The trouble was, she didn’t have a red dress—or any sexy clothes—nor the money to buy some. The only decent dress she owned was her bridesmaid dress from Cole’s canceled wedding … a dress she’d never worn.
Yes, that was the answer, she decided, settling down to get some sleep. She’d return the dress and get something new.
Her brothers headed out at dawn the next morning. After they left, Ally hurried to clean up the breakfast dishes, feed the chickens and start a load of laundry—sparing a few extra moments to flush the cigarettes she found in Kyle’s pocket. Bad enough that he risked his life riding bulls; he didn’t need to risk cancer, too.
Anxious to reach Tangleweed when the stores opened, she was on the road at nine. By ten, she was arguing with Tammy Pitts, owner of Tamara’s Treasures.
“I’m sorry, I can’t refund your money,” Tammy said.
“But I’ve never worn it,” Ally told her. “It’s like new.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Tammy insisted. “Not only has it been six months since you purchased the garment, it was altered. It can’t be returned.” She pushed the dress across the store counter, adding with patently false regret, “Store policy, you know. One my regular customers completely understand.”
The condescending glance she swept over Ally’s worn jeans and John Deere T-shirt—clean and green and bought on sale at the feed store—made Ally lift her chin. Ally had known Tammy Pitts (née Peale) all her life. After trapping William Pitts, a man twice her age, into marriage, Tammy had convinced her henpecked husband to let her open a boutique which—since most of the town refused to pay the prices Tammy charged—primarily served as a front for Tammy’s shopping addiction.
But when planning her wedding to Cole, Misty’d been determined to give her hometown as much business as possible. So she’d herded her bridesmaids to Tamara’s Treasures. Although the others had been dismayed by Tammy’s “hick-town slim pickin’s,” as one anorexic redhead had put it, Ally’s only dismay had been the cost of the final selection. Emptying her small savings account for a dress she’d probably wear once had scandalized her thrifty soul. But she’d bitten back her protests, not wanting to embarrass either herself or Cole in front of the other women, for whom price was obviously not a consideration at all.
Serves me right for not speaking up then, Ally thought bitterly. Because sure as stink on a cross-eyed skunk I’m going to be embarrassed, anyway, once Tammy tells everyone in town that I tried to return the dress.
Before she could grab the dress and escape, the bell above the door to the shop chimed.
Tammy directed a broad smile at the person entering. “Hello, Misty,” Tammy said, then glanced at Ally with speculative interest.
Ally turned to see Misty Sanderson hovering in the doorway, looking as startled to see Ally, as Ally was to see her. Although they were the same age, Ally had never known the petite blonde very well, since rather than the public school in Tangleweed Ally had attended, Raymond Sanderson had sent his only daughter to a private boarding school in the east.
During Misty’s engagement to Cole, the two women had become friends but Ally loved her brother—warts and all—and she couldn’t forgive the blonde for the pain she’d caused him. So neither woman had seen the other since the breakup.
For a fleeting second, Ally thought Misty would ignore her now. But after the barest hesitation, Misty smiled briefly at Ally, then returned Tammy’s greeting with a casual hello.
“I’ve come to pick up that jacket I ordered. Has it come in yet?” Misty asked Tammy as she walked toward the counter.
“Oh, yes. It’s in the rear.” Tammy’s inquisitive gaze flicked from Misty’s face to Ally’s, before she added with obvious reluctance, “I’ll go get it.”
As soon as the sharp tippety-tip-tap of Tammy’s high heels faded in the back room, Misty turned to Ally, asking politely, “How are you, Ally?”
“I’m fine,” Ally responded in the same tone. “And you?”
“Doing great,” Misty said emphatically, widening her lips in a smile that didn’t quite reach her dark brown eyes. “I’ve been busy, what with—” Her smile faltered as she recognized the dress on the counter. “Oh! It’s your bridesmaid dress.” She looked at Ally, tilting her head questioningly. “Why did you bring it here?”
“I’m returning it,” Ally said bluntly, as she started to bundle the blue froth of material into her arms. Not bothering to soften her tone