The Maverick's Bride-To-Order. Stella Bagwell
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Seeing she was about to argue, he held up a hand to stop her words before she could get them out. “If you’re willing to deal with the extra work of handling the responses to the ad, then I don’t care.”
A part of Lydia wanted to let out a squeal and dance a happy jig, while the more reserved part of her wondered if she was taking on a huge mess. The only thing she knew about Zach Dalton was that he had a smile that could melt a snowdrift and the type of woman he was looking for in a wife couldn’t have been more opposite Lydia.
Tall and willowy? With her chin up and her shoulders back, she might be considered average height. And her build was more lush than willowy. As for the long, straight hair... Her mane could be long if she spent hours ironing out the curls that caused it to spring up several inches shorter than its natural length.
No, she decided, Zach Dalton would never look at her as a potential bride. But he might like her as a friend. And since Lydia was a woman who knew her limitations, being friends with the man would be enough for her.
“Thanks, Curtis. I’ll go tell him and get everything set up.” She tossed him a clever grin as she turned to leave the office. “You’re not going to regret this decision.”
Snorting, he reached for his coffee cup. “That’s right, I won’t. But you might.”
Biting her tongue, Lydia hurried back out to the main lobby, where her desk was located, and found Zach Dalton still sitting in the plastic chair where she’d left him.
Even before she gave him Curtis’s verdict, he smiled at her and Lydia could only wonder why some woman hadn’t snagged him before now. And what in the world had pushed him to the point of advertising for a wife? It didn’t make sense to her, but then Zach Dalton’s love life was none of her business.
“Good news, Mr. Dalton, Curtis is agreeable to your suggestion. So I’ll have the ad direct all interested females to send their correspondence here to the paper. You’ll be welcome to pick them up as they come in.”
“That is good news. Thanks. And please call me Zach. We’ll probably be seeing each other a few more times in the coming days.”
“Sure, Zach. And you can call me Lydia.”
He reached across the desk to shake her hand and Lydia complied by sliding her palm against his. The skin on his hand was tough and his grip said he didn’t do anything in half measures. No milksop, drugstore cowboy here, she thought.
He released her hand and settled back in the chair. “Okay, Lydia. Nice to meet you. Are you a native of Rust Creek Falls?”
“I am. All of my twenty-eight years have been spent right here. Except for the time I was at college in Butte, that is.”
“So I suppose you were here during the big flood?”
She plucked a pencil from a can and began to turn it end over end. But it soon dawned on her that her fidgeting might give him the idea he was making her nervous. She tossed down the pencil and tried to look as casual as possible.
“I was living here during the flood,” she told him. “It was a horrible time. And the damage was devastating for everyone in the area. But the town has rebuilt itself and that’s helped to smooth away the scars.”
“Yeah. The rebuilding has been good for everyone,” he agreed. “I only moved here in July. With Dad and my four brothers. Right now all six of us are living with Uncle Charles and Aunt Rita out on their ranch, the Circle D. Until we find a place of our own, that is. These past few months I’ve been getting reacquainted with all my relatives that live around Rust Creek Falls. And I’m learning new faces around town. See, I’ve met you today,” he added with a grin.
Normally at this time of the morning, the phone was ringing off its hook. Mostly from townsfolk reporting weird incidents that had happened overnight. Some even called to gripe about the prices in the grocery store ads, as if the newspaper decided what food items should cost. But since Zach Dalton had strolled into the office it had rung only twice. Wonder of wonders, she thought.
She tossed him a perky smile. “Most of us folks in Rust Creek Falls are the friendly sort. So what brought you to the area, Mr. Dalton? Your relatives told you about the Gal Rush that took place three or four years ago and you thought some of those ladies were still hanging around looking for a husband?”
A wide grin spread over his face and Lydia felt her heart do a little stutter step. His dark, rugged looks were the kind that women swooned over. And once the paper announced this man was searching for a bride, she figured there was going to be all kinds of swooning going on. Was the man clueless? Hadn’t he learned by now that a little crook of his finger was enough to get the women flocking to his side? He hardly needed a newspaper ad! But selling ads was a part of her job, she reminded herself. She might as well take his money and let him suffer the consequences.
“Could be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve been told this place is full of beautiful women looking for husbands. And how people have come to this town from near and far searching for their one true love. From the stories I’ve heard, a bunch of weddings have taken place in the past few years.”
Lydia chuckled. “That’s true. But most folks attribute that overload of weddings and babies to Homer Gilmore spiking the punch with moonshine. Drinking that stuff made everyone in town look like a desirable catch. There were so many babies born after that incident that more doctors had to be recruited to town just to take care of the overloaded maternity ward.”
He laughed. “Well, I’m not going to rely on anyone spiking the punch again. The way I see it, there’s something about Rust Creek Falls that makes people open their hearts. I’m confident I’m going to find the right woman.”
One that made delicious pies and kept the house spotless while raising a passel of kids. Along with making sure the straightening iron was always hot so that a stray curl in her hair never appeared. Was this guy for real?
He certainly looked real and then some, Lydia thought. In fact, he was a modern-day cowboy dream. But she’d hate to think she had to live up to his standards of a wife. Lydia’s pies were purchased from a bakery, and if she left dirty dishes in the sink overnight, she didn’t take a trip down guilty lane. As for her hair, her time was too precious to waste standing in front of a mirror trying to make herself look like someone she wasn’t. No, if she was ever crazy enough to get herself hooked up with a man, he’d have to take her as is.
She gave him the cheeriest smile she could muster. Even though he was going about finding a wife in all the wrong ways, she still liked him and wished him well. “I’m positive you’ll find her. And with a new edition of the paper coming out tomorrow morning, you might meet her sooner than you think.”
Rising to his feet, he said, “Thank you, Lydia. I appreciate your help.”
“You’re quite welcome. And I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other,” she said, then added, “When you stop by for your mail, that is.”
“Oh yeah, my mail. Let’s hope I get some,” he said with an outrageous wink of one blue eye. “Goodbye for now, Lydia. And thanks again.”
With a parting smile, he strolled out of the office and through the glass door leading to the sidewalk.
Lydia watched him walk to the corner of the intersection, where he waited for the light to change. After he sprinted across the busy street and disappeared behind a row of vehicles, she let out a long sigh, then followed it with a muttered curse word.
How stupid could she get? Time after time her mother had warned her that marriage wasn’t worth the trouble. For years, she’d watched her mother work two jobs just to keep them housed and fed. No, her mother was right, Lydia thought. A man couldn’t be depended on for financial security. Most of all he couldn’t be depended on for love. So she needed to quit dreaming about Zach Dalton and his quest for a bride. Instead, she needed to be thankful she wasn’t his type. In the long run it would save her a broken heart.