The Rancher's Temporary Engagement. Stacy Henrie
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here, I’ll be Maggy Worthwright.” She liked to keep her maiden name, which was the surname she went by since becoming a widow, to herself to preserve her anonymity and ability to be anyone she needed.
He nodded. “I’ll be at the main barn, when you’re ready to see the ranch.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Once he shut the door, Maggy sank down on the bed beside her trunk. What if she couldn’t effectively play the part of Edward’s fiancée? She hadn’t exactly thought through what that would mean. And she’d all but panicked when he grabbed her hand. Could she endure days, possibly weeks, of pretending to adore him in the company of others? As if she were young and in love...all over again?
Maggy shivered, despite the room’s pleasant temperature, and folded her arms tightly against her tea-soiled jacket. The thought of being under another man’s thumb made her stomach roil.
What did she know about love or being betrothed to someone? In the past, love had been a weapon used to hurt or a dangerous path leading to foolish choices and weakness. She’d vowed at Jeb’s funeral that she would never, ever allow herself to be tied to another man. Instead she would live alone—and free. Free of belittlement, hurt and pain.
You’re nothin’, Maggy. Just you remember that.
The deep-rooted, ugly words repeated in her mind and made it hard to breathe. She rubbed a hand along the fabric at her collarbone and sucked in several breaths.
“I am not nothing,” she fiercely told herself. “I am one of the best Pinkerton detectives out there.”
And that meant seeing this mission—this role—through completely. Maggy jumped to her feet and opened her trunk, fresh determination battling her fears. She could do this. The next few weeks would be worth the sacrifice, especially if her success here meant she secured the position as head female detective.
She removed her trousers and shirt from the trunk, eager to exchange her traveling dress for more comfortable clothing. After all, she was about to tour a working ranch. The feel of the loose material eased some of her trepidation. She tucked in her shirt, laced her shoes back up, and pulled her worn straw hat from its equally tattered box. Positioning the hat on her head, she eyed herself in the bureau mirror.
Did she look the part of Edward’s fiancée? Maggy frowned at her reflection, pulling her naturally pink lips downward. Whether she did or not, this was the part she would play. She’d navigated far more complicated roles in her six years as a detective. But as she exited the cottage, she couldn’t help a faint tremor of misgiving that this charade might prove to be her most challenging yet.
“Uh, boss.” McCall tipped his head toward something outside the main barn doors. “Is that your...um...fiancée comin’ this way?”
Edward turned. He was actually looking forward to showing Maggy around the ranch and hoped her drooping spirits had been restored, now that she had a clean dress on. As he watched, the wranglers in the yard parted like the Red Sea, mouths agape in shock, as another...young man...strolled through their midst. Only this chap had auburn hair peeking out from beneath a straw hat and a womanly figure that was still obvious in spite of the loose-fitting clothes.
His eagerness faded. “Yes,” he managed to say with only slight weariness in his tone. “That would be Maggy.”
She’d berated him earlier for not keeping up the charade well enough and here she was dressed like a man. He frowned, his forehead pinching with the effort. Perhaps their plan was destined to fail from the start.
Belatedly he remembered his foreman. “Probably didn’t want to ruin one of her dresses as I show her around,” he explained with false cheer. He walked out of the barn to greet her, doing his best not to clench his hands into fists at his sides.
“Hello, darling,” she called as she approached. “I’m ready for my tour.”
He managed a tight smile as he gently gripped her elbow and steered her away from the wide-eyed looks of his staff. “A moment in private first, dearest.”
“All right.” She glanced up at him, her expression one of cautious confusion.
Edward led her toward the nearest pasture so they wouldn’t be overheard. When they reached the fence, he released her, keeping his back to his wranglers and foreman. “What exactly are you wearing?”
Maggy looked down at her clothes as if she’d forgotten what she’d put on. His staff certainly wouldn’t forget any time soon. “A shirt and pants?”
“Precisely.” He shot her an impatient look. Was she truly unaware of the stir she’d caused or her breach of propriety in dressing in such a fashion?
She folded her arms and her countenance hardened. He may have only known her for a few hours, but Edward could easily identify when her dander was up. “And what is so abhorrent about my clothes?”
“Nothing,” he said with a module of patience, “if you intend to lasso one of my horses or muck a stall. However, if you plan to parade around town as my fiancée, then I’d ask you to please not do so looking like a man.”
Her pink lips parted as if she were about to throw out a rejoinder. Then she obviously thought better of it and shut her mouth. She glanced back the way they’d come, a never-before-seen look of consternation settling onto her pretty face. “You’re right. It’s just that these clothes...” Her blue eyes flashed with momentary vulnerability before she lifted her chin. “It won’t happen again. I will endeavor to act and look as a proper society fiancée should.”
“Thank you.” But he felt less victorious than he’d expected. While clothes and appearances were critical to playing their respective roles, he had a hunch that Maggy felt most comfortable, most like herself, in the clothes she wore at this moment. He felt a pang of remorse at the thought of taking that comfort away from her.
Pushing out a sigh, she faced away from him. “I’ll go change.”
“No need just yet,” he said. “I already told McCall that you’d chosen your outfit for the express purpose of not soiling one of your gowns during your tour of the ranch.”
A small smile appeared at her mouth. “That was rather quick scheming on your part.”
“A first, I’ll admit.” Edward chuckled. “But I’ve had a rather effective albeit persistent teacher today.”
Was it his imagination or did she blush? Before Edward could decide, Maggy took a step forward. “Let’s see this ranch of yours.”
“Maggy.” He waited for her to turn around, then he offered her his arm. “I’m supposed to be showing my betrothed around the ranch.”
She hesitated, her gaze riveted on his sleeve. “Right, of course.” Determination etched her features as she strode back to his side and linked her arm through his. He could feel the tension radiating through her fingers, though.
He placed his hand over hers, hoping it would be reassuring this time. “Ahead of us is the main barn. Shall we start in there?”
“Yes.”
He was relieved to see a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, which meant that right now she found his touch more comforting than jarring. And for some reason that felt as much a victory to him as anything else today.
* * *
By the time he’d finished showing Maggy around the ranch and introduced her as his fiancée to every member of his staff, Edward was wound tighter than a lasso inside. She hadn’t said much, though she didn’t look bored, either. There had been a succession of nods, a few questions and plenty of bright smiles for the wranglers. But what did she think of the Running W?
It surprised him that he cared about her opinion