Montana Mail-Order Wife Read online

  “The boy needs to know about his mother,” she said, prepared to do battle for Jordan.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  Anger flared deep inside, giving her courage. “Oh, but it is. If we’re going to have a business arrangement where it’s my business to act as Jordan’s mother, then it’s my business to see that he’s happy.”

  Wade shifted uneasily on his rocky perch. “Why shouldn’t he be happy? He has everything a child needs.”

  “He thinks you don’t love him.”

  Wade reeled slightly, as if her words had been a blow. “Of course I love him!”

  “Have you ever told him?”

  “I don’t have to. He should know without my saying it.”

  Rachel stared at him in disbelief. She wanted to shake him till he rattled. “Where did you get such a crazy notion?”

  “My dad never said he loved me—”

  “But don’t you wish he had?”

  Wade thought for a moment. “I can’t imagine him ever saying the words. He was a hard, quiet man.”

  “Is that the way you want Jordan to remember you?”

  Wade sighed. “No.”

  “Then tell him you love him. And tell him about his mother. He deserves to know.”

  Wade surged to his feet, towering over her. The pale moonlight illuminated the suffering on his face. “I don’t talk about Maggie. Ever. Not to anyone.”

  He turned on his heel and tramped farther down the mountain, disappearing from sight. With a heavy heart, Rachel returned to the campsite. Jordan slept peacefully, oblivious of the exchange that had occurred between her and his father. Just as well, Rachel thought. The poor kid didn’t need any more grief.

  She tugged her sleeping bag from the bed of the pickup and spread it close to Jordan’s near the fire. As she pulled off her boots, she considered her situation. Her memories hadn’t returned. In truth, they might never return, so she couldn’t wait for them to resurface before making a decision about accepting Wade’s offer. If only Jordan weren’t involved, she could decide in a heartbeat. The boy needed love and caring, and she had plenty of both for the child.

  But the father? How could she remain in a strictly business relationship and live in the same house with a man who made her pulse race, who kept her feelings in such turmoil that half the time she wanted to kiss him, the other half to kick him? What kind of emotional hell would she be sentencing herself to if she agreed to Wade Garrett’s bizarre proposal?

  And how could she leave Jordan if she didn’t?

  The questions still buzzed in her head as she dropped off to sleep.

  A CAR DOOR SLAMMED and footsteps sounded on the front walk. She ran through the tiny house toward the front entrance.

  “Daddy’s home,” she yelled to her mother in the kitchen.

  Standing on tiptoes, she turned the lock and pulled open the heavy door. “Hi, Daddy!”

  The tall man in a gray business suit and red tie leaned down and swept her into his arms. “Jenny, pumpkin. What did you do today?”

  “Mommy and me went shopping.”

  “Did you buy me something?”

  Her face fell. “No. But Mommy bought me new shoes.”

  He whirled her through the air, and when he set her on her feet, her mother stood beside him, wearing her best dress and carrying her coat.

  “We’ll be back next week, Jennifer. Mrs. Cooper will take good care of you while we’re gone.”

  Panic clawed at her throat. She couldn’t let them leave. If they walked out that door, she knew they’d never return. She tried to scream, but couldn’t make a sound.

  The door slammed. They were gone.

  She crumpled on the rug, sobbing, sobbing….

  “Rachel? Rachel?”

  Someone was shaking her shoulder. She awakened in her sleeping bag with Wade leaning over her.

  “Are you all right?” She couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but his tone was worried.

  “I’m…” Her fingers touched her cheeks and came away wet with tears. “I’m fine. It was a bad dream, that’s all.”

  “You’re shaking.” With one swift movement, he scooped her up, sleeping bag and all, and set her closer to the fire. When he had her settled, he threw on extra logs and stirred the coals with a branch.

  She glanced toward Jordan. “I didn’t waken him?”

  Wade shook his head. “He’s sawing logs so hard, he won’t stir till morning.”

  With a graceful movement for such a big man, he folded his legs beneath him and sat beside her. “Your dream? Was it a memory?”

  Rachel shrugged and pulled the sleeping bag tighter around her. The sorrow of the dream still held her in its grasp, and she fought to keep from weeping. “I don’t know. I was a little girl with my mom and dad. They were leaving on a trip, and I knew if they left, they’d never come back.”

  “So it could have been a memory?” He studied her face as if looking for answers to a puzzle.

  “I doubt it. This man was a businessman. You said my father was a farmer. And the woman in the dream called me Jennifer. It must have been one of those nonsensical dreams that mean nothing. But it made me sad.”

  She shivered. Wade moved toward her, placed his arm around her and pulled her close. He felt solid and strong, and smelled pleasantly of leather and sunshine. Giving in to impulse, she laid her head on his shoulder.

  “Don’t be sad, Rachel. I promise you, everything’s going to work out fine.”

  She drifted off to sleep again with his voice ringing in her ears, remaining conscious only long enough to think he sounded as unhappy as she’d felt in her dream.

  Chapter Nine

  Wade tiptoed to the door of his study, opened it a crack and listened. He could hear Rachel and Jordan in the kitchen, telling Ursula about their camping trip while the housekeeper prepared lunch.

  With the coast clear, he closed the door, hurried to his desk and phoned the sheriff’s office.

  “Any luck with those fingerprints?” he asked when Dan Howard came on the line.

  “Couldn’t find a match. But at least you know she isn’t a wanted criminal.”

  Biting back disappointment, Wade snorted. “Anyone with half a brain would know that after being around Rachel only a few minutes.” His tone sobered. “But that doesn’t help my situation. I have to know who she is.”

  “I don’t have much to go on. Can’t you give me any other clues?”

  Wade recalled Rachel’s account of her dream the night before on Keeler Mountain. “Her first name could be Jennifer, but I’m not sure.”

  “Well, that’s a start. I’ll check the railroad’s passenger list.”

  Wade raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I know you’re busy, man, but can you make it quick? Things are getting complicated here.”

  Dan laughed. “With a woman as pretty as Rachel, they always do.”

  Wade hung up the phone and swiveled his desk chair toward the window. Across the lawn, he could view the neatly painted barn and bunkhouse, and beyond, surrounded by secure fencing, cattle grazing on the tall grass sweetened by recent rain. The idyllic scene usually calmed him, but not today. Every time he recalled Rachel falling asleep last night in his arms, his pulse speeded up, his blood heated and any sense of peacefulness went south.

  He needed time. And distance. He was already doing all he could to discover her real identity. And with no place for her to go, he couldn’t send her away.

  Not that he wanted to.

  It saddened him to think of the day when either she would remember or Dan would discover who she was, and she would return to her own people. The house would seem empty without her. Wade’s arms already missed holding her after last night.

  A knock sounded at his door, scattering his thoughts.

  “Come in.”

  Ursula slipped inside quietly and closed the door behind her. “Well?”

  Wade shook his head. “Still no news. In her dreams someone ca
lled her Jennifer. Dan’s checking it out.”

  Ursula folded her hands in her apron and fixed him with her no-nonsense stare. He’d squirmed under that look many times as a boy, and it took a manly effort to keep from squirming now.

  “You have to tell her,” the housekeeper said. “Ain’t fair for her to go on thinking she’s someone she ain’t.”

  “I know, but the doctor says until we can tell her who she really is, the shock may prevent her from ever remembering. I wouldn’t want that to happen.”

  Ursula’s dark eyes glimmered, reminding Wade of a hawk swooping for the kill. “You going to marry her?”

  He pushed to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from breaking something to ease his stress. “How can I? For all we know, she’s married already.”

  “And if you find out she isn’t?”

  Wade couldn’t unscramble his feelings about Rachel, but even if he could, he wasn’t discussing them with Ursula. “Any sign of Larry Crutchfield while we were gone?”

  She grimaced to acknowledge he’d sidestepped her question. “Lefty said Crutchfield drove by real slow in his blue Mercedes yesterday afternoon, but when he spotted Lefty at the gate with his gun, he speeded up and disappeared.” Her white eyebrows knotted. “You think he’ll come back?”

  Wade nodded. “Wouldn’t be surprised. He seemed the tenacious type. I don’t want him upsetting Rachel.”

  “And what about Jordan?”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s grown powerful fond of that woman. How’s he gonna take it when she leaves?”

  Wade shoved his fingers through his hair again. “He’ll get over it.”

  Ursula skewered him with a look that made him squirm in spite of himself. “Like he got over losing his mother?”

  Wade’s temper flared, but before he could reply, she was halfway out the door.

  “Lunch is on the table,” she called over her shoulder.

  With a sigh of resignation, Wade followed her into the kitchen.

  He couldn’t help thinking of the irony of the scene of domestic tranquility that greeted him. Whistling happily under his breath, his face and hands scrubbed pink, Jordan set the table. At the stove, Rachel held earthenware bowls while Ursula ladled homemade soup into them. The mouthwatering aroma of baking bread filled the room. Under different circumstances, the sight would have lifted his spirits and had him whistling with Jordan. For now, he fought sudden indigestion.

  “Sit and eat,” Ursula ordered. “Ain’t nothing worse’n cold soup.”

  They took their places while Ursula removed a round loaf of brown bread from the oven and sliced it into steaming wedges.

  Jordan attacked his soup as if he hadn’t eaten three eggs and half a pound of bacon for breakfast on the mountain. He stopped long enough to point to the counter beside the stove. “That for dessert?”

  Wade noted the foot-high cake glistening with chocolate frosting.

  “That is my five-layer chocolate cake for the barn dance.” Ursula shook the bread knife at Jordan. “And I better not find any boy’s fingerprints in it when we get there.”

  Rachel smiled at Jordan with a tenderness that wrenched Wade’s heart. “If you’re still hungry after lunch, there’re sugar cookies in the pantry.”

  She turned to Wade. “Ursula says there’s a buffet supper before the dance, so we’ll be frying chicken this afternoon to take with us.”

  Wade was glad for the neutral topic. “What about the huckleberries we picked?”

  “Ursula put them in the freezer,” Rachel said. “We’ll make jelly on Monday.”

  If you’re still here Monday, he thought sadly, wondering how soon Dan Howard would discover her true identity. The sooner the better. The longer she stayed, the harder Wade would find letting her go.

  “Do I have to go to the barn dance?” Jordan asked.

  He looked at his son in surprise. “Don’t you want to? All your friends will be there.”

  “Yeah, but it’s at Spider Woman’s place.”

  “Spider Woman?” Rachel asked.

  “Sue Ann Swenson,” Jordan said with a grimace.

  “Miss Swenson,” Wade corrected him.

  Rachel smiled at the boy. “Why do you call her Spider Woman?”

  “’Cause she gives me the creeps.” Jordan wiped his mouth on his napkin. “May I be excused?”

  Struggling to keep a stern expression, Wade nodded. Ursula turned her face to the stove, but her shoulders shook.

  Jordan raced out of the kitchen, braked to a halt and returned to the pantry. He reappeared a few seconds later with a handful of cookies and darted into the hall.

  “I swear, since you arrived, Rachel,” Ursula said, “that boy’s been eating like there’s no tomorrow.”

  Wade groaned inwardly at Ursula’s choice of words. Jordan had no idea how limited Rachel’s tomorrows at the ranch were.

  Ursula poured herself a cup of coffee, sat in Jordan’s deserted chair and eyed Wade. “Well, don’t you think you’d better tell her?”

  Wade tensed and glanced from Ursula to Rachel in alarm. Surely his housekeeper didn’t intend to reveal Rachel’s false identity?

  “Tell me what?” Rachel asked.

  “About Sue Ann Swenson.” Ursula sipped her coffee, her gaze on Wade over the rim of her cup.

  Wade felt a fleeting moment of relief, replaced by irritation. “What about Sue Ann?”

  Ursula grunted. “Jordan’s not far off with his Spider Woman nickname. Although I’d say Cat Woman is closer to the mark. That predatory female has sharp claws and a tongue like a razor. Ain’t all her fault. She was an only child. Her parents spoiled her rotten. Let her do and say anything she damned well pleased.”

  Rachel looked puzzled, but Wade wasn’t about to enlighten her. He had enough troubles without dragging Sue Ann Swenson into the mix.

  Ursula, evidently, had no such reservations. “Ever since Mag—” she swallowed the rest of the forbidden name “—since Wade became a widower, Sue Ann’s had her cap set for him.”

  Rachel’s green eyes twinkled. “He is an attractive man.”

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” he growled, but inwardly he was pleased. Much good it would do him, her thinking him attractive. Not with the possibility of an unidentified husband waiting in the wings.

  “Wade’s looks ain’t got that much to do with it,” Ursula said. “Sue Ann’s not long on sentiment. She’s more interested in profit.”

  “Profit?” Rachel asked.

  Ursula nodded and drained her coffee cup. “The Swenson place shares a boundary with this one. If the two properties were joined, they’d form one of the biggest holdings in northwest Montana. Sue Ann would be a very wealthy and influential woman.”

  “Interesting,” Rachel said, “but it’s nothing to do with me.”

  “Oh, no?” Ursula plunked her cup down with a thud. “That woman’ll make your life hell if she views you as a threat to her plans.”

  “Rachel’s no threat—” Wade bit off his words too late. They’d hit home with an impact, judging by the surprised look on Rachel’s face.

  Looking embarrassed, she rose from the table. “If you’ll excuse me—”

  Wade stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Don’t go taking what I said the wrong way. You’re not a threat because I’m not interested in Sue Ann Swenson.”

  “I only brought Sue Ann up,” Ursula said, “so her catty comments won’t catch you by surprise, Rachel.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel flushed the attractive pale pink of a Montana wild rose and began gathering dirty dishes. “I’ll help you clean up, Ursula.”

  Wade, afraid of sticking his foot in his mouth again, pushed to his feet. “I have chores. Damn good lunch, Ursula.”

  He retreated to the barn as fast as his boots would carry him.

  RACHEL LOADED THE LAST of the bowls in the dishwasher and closed the door.

  At the sink, Ursula wiped her hands on a dish to
wel. “You’re awful quiet. Don’t let what I said about Sue Ann bother you. Wade’s got no use for her.”

  Rachel forced a smile. “It isn’t that.”

  “I know sad when I see it. What’s bothering you, girl?”

  Rachel shook her head. “Nothing.”

  The housekeeper gave her a compassionate look. “You’ve been through a rough patch, hurt in that train wreck, losing your memory. Things must seem all topsy-turvy. If you want to talk, I’m a good listener.”

  Rachel hugged Ursula and blinked back tears at the older woman’s caring. “I can’t talk about my feelings until I sort them out. Unless you’re ready to fry chicken now, I’ll take a walk. Maybe exercise and fresh air will clear my head.”

  “Go ahead. I always have a lie-down after lunch. These old bones don’t have as much get up and go as they used to.”

  Rachel laughed. “You have enough energy to run circles around me.”

  Ursula chuckled. “Leo’ll tell you I run on high-octane orneriness. Now, take your walk. It’ll do you good.”

  Rachel strode through the quiet house and out the front door. The rich perfume of rambler roses blended with the resinous scent of pine, a heady mixture that lifted her sagging spirits. She skipped down the broad front steps and headed down the long drive that led to the highway.

  Although it had only been a few days since she’d first ridden up that road with Wade, she felt as if she’d been in Montana all her life. She’d fallen in love with the wide curve of deep blue sky and the sheltering bulk of green mountain ranges that hugged the valley. The ranch house seemed like home, and Ursula and Leo seemed like family.

  Not to mention Jordan and Wade. She’d grown more than fond of both of them. Too fond. Leaving them would break her heart, but she wasn’t sure Wade wanted her to stay. One minute he acted as if he cared about her, the next she was suffering frostbite from his coldness. His seesaw reactions exhausted her, leaving her wary and wondering how he was going to respond next.

  She tramped steadily along the tree-lined drive until she reached the entrance to the ranch at the highway. Lefty Starr perched on the top rail of the fence by the gate, cradling a rifle in his arms. A large No Trespassing sign was tacked prominently to the fence post.