Montana Mail-Order Wife Read online

  As she approached, the blond cowhand smiled and tipped his hat. “Nice day, ma’am.”

  “Beautiful.” She nodded toward the rifle. “Expecting trouble?”

  His toothy smile faltered, but only for an instant. “No, ma’am. I just keep this—” he patted the rifle “—for timber rattlers. Better watch your step. Never know when you might stumble on one.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  Rachel turned back toward the ranch. If Lefty was guarding the gate against snakes, she’d eat her boots. Whatever or whoever he was looking for, nobody seemed inclined to tell her.

  She was dealing with too many unanswered questions, not even counting her missing memories. It was time she and Wade Garrett had a serious heart-to-heart talk. She needed straight answers, and by the time she’d hiked back to the ranch house, she’d figured out how to get them.

  She headed for the barn and entered the cool, dark interior.

  When her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she noted the stalls that lined the walls, all empty of horses, except two. From the shadows, a dark-eyed palomino and a docile bay mare stared back at her and snuffled gently. The pungent odor of horse manure blended with the fresh scent of hay.

  She found Wade at the far end of the barn, mucking out a stall. He hadn’t heard her approach, and silently she watched him, stripped to the waist, the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders bunching as he lifted his pitchfork and tossed its load into a small cart. Sweat glistened on his tanned skin, and his mahogany-colored hair fell over his forehead into his eyes. His jaw locked and eyes burning, he attacked the dirty hay as if it were a mortal enemy.

  She figured there ought to be law against any man looking so darned handsome. “Don’t the hands do that?”

  “Most of the time.” He barely broke his rhythm as he transferred another load of muck to the cart. Without looking at her, he continued working. “I like doing it. Helps me think.”

  “I’ve been thinking, too.”

  This time he rammed the pitchfork into the cart. He jerked a bandanna from his back pocket, mopped his face and met her gaze. “Sounds serious.”

  “It is.” Unnerved by his dark stare, she plunged ahead before she lost her courage. “Can we talk?”

  He turned abruptly, grabbed his shirt from the stall railing and stomped out the barn’s rear door.

  “Thought we agreed you’d wait till you get your memories back,” he called over his shoulder.

  She hurried to catch up and almost ran into him when he stopped suddenly at a bench outside the door. “It’s been weeks since the accident. What if they never return?”

  For a split second he stood absolutely still. Then he plunged his head into a trough of water on the bench. When he straightened, he sluiced water from his hair, scrubbed his hands with soap and, after rinsing them, reached for a nearby towel.

  She fought off the desire to take the towel and dry him off herself. Her unexpected hunger for intimacy made their talk even more necessary.

  “Remember the day I left the hospital?” she said. “I asked that we not discuss your marriage proposal again until I was ready.”

  He stopped rubbing his chest with the towel, but he didn’t meet her gaze. “I remember.”

  “I’m ready now to discuss it.”

  “Well, I’m not.” He slung the towel on the bench and pulled on his shirt.

  His refusal caught her by surprise. “But—”

  He still avoided meeting her eyes. “I have several miles of fence to check before sundown.”

  Frustration boiled within her. She hadn’t worked up her courage only to be stymied by his rebuff. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

  For the first time, he looked her in the eye. “You know how to ride?”

  She couldn’t remember whether she’d ever ridden a horse. “Can’t you take the pickup?”

  “And tear up good grassland?” He shook his head. “If you won’t go on horseback, guess our little chat’ll have to wait a day or two.”

  He headed back toward the barn.

  She stepped in his path and crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”

  Towering over her, he lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “No?”

  Stunned by her own boldness, she stammered, “I—I don’t want to wait. I want things settled.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Why are you in such an all-fired hurry all of a sudden?”

  She gazed up at him. “It’s bad enough my past is in limbo. I want my future settled.”

  His expression softened. Reaching out, he stroked her cheek with the back of his work-callused hand. “No one knows the future, Rachel. All any of us have is today.”

  The sadness in his voice touched her, made her want to wrap her arms around him and never let go. She shook away the longing. All the more reason to find out where she stood.

  “Please, can’t we talk now?”

  Mischief glinted in his dark eyes. “If you want to ride fences with me.”

  “Ride?” She swallowed hard. If she refused, it might be days before she’d have another chance to confront him.

  He nodded toward the barn. “Molly’s a nice, gentle mare. Good for a beginner.”

  “You said I grew up on a farm. I’ve probably ridden before.”

  A strange expression flashed across his face before it settled into neutral lines again. “Probably.”

  “Molly it is, then,” she said with a boldness she hoped she wouldn’t regret.

  She followed him into the barn and watched as he saddled the palomino, then Molly. For a gentle horse, the mare had an excess of energy, prancing and turning while Wade cinched the saddle. He led the animals out of the barn, and Rachel followed, eyeing the spirited Molly warily.

  Wade must have noticed her reluctance. “Change your mind?”

  She wanted to back out, but that would mean waiting for their talk. She shook her head. “Help me up.”

  Placing her left foot in the stirrup, she tossed her right leg over Molly’s back, all too aware of the warm, firm pressure of Wade’s palms on her backside, boosting her into the saddle. The mare skittered backward, and Rachel almost slid off the other side. Struggling to maintain her dignity, she righted herself and grabbed the reins.

  Not bothering to conceal his amusement, Wade swung onto the palomino with an ease and grace that made her feel all the more clumsy by comparison.

  “We’ll start off slow,” he said. “Give you a chance to get accustomed to Molly.”

  Rachel smiled, refusing to let her nervousness show. If Wade was reluctant to discuss his proposal, he’d found a perfect way to distract her. She’d already anticipated a hard time choosing what she wanted to say. Concentrating on staying on Molly made conversation a whole lot tougher.

  She gripped the mare’s body with her knees and followed Wade’s palomino at a slow walk toward the pasture.

  “You’re doing great,” he said with an encouraging grin. “Let’s step up the pace.”

  Before she could protest, Wade clucked his tongue, nudged his horse with his knees, and the big palomino broke into a trot. Molly followed suit, and Rachel soon found herself hanging on for dear life, gritting her teeth to keep from biting her tongue with each jolt, and praying her backbone wouldn’t bounce through her brain.

  “Relax,” Wade called to her. “Pretend you’re part of the horse.”

  She grimaced at him. She felt a part of the horse, all right. The hind part. Especially when she spied the dirt road running parallel to the pasture on the other side of the fence. Wade could have taken the pickup without spoiling his grassland. He just hadn’t wanted to.

  Pulling hard on Molly’s reins, Rachel persuaded the mare to stop.

  Wade, realizing she was no longer keeping pace, wheeled the stallion and returned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing that a few minutes of straight talk won’t solve.”

  Wade shifted uneasily in the saddle. “But my fences—”

  “They’ll keep.�
�� She took a deep breath to cool her temper. Anger wouldn’t gain her the answers she wanted. “About your marriage proposal. I’ve thought it through and—”

  “Mr. Garrett!”

  A frantic shout floated across the pasture. Riding toward them as if outrunning the devil was a man Rachel recognized as one of Wade’s hands. The rider drew opposite them and reined in his well-lathered horse.

  “You’re needed at the river,” the hand said.

  Wade pushed back his Stetson. “What’s the trouble, Buck?”

  The big man wiped his face with his sleeve, and Rachel noted he and his horse were splattered with mud.

  “Rob’s horse stumbled into a bog,” Buck said. “It’s up to its withers in mud, and we can’t get her out.”

  “And Rob?” Wade asked.

  “He’s okay, but chest-high in mud, too. He won’t leave her.”

  “Did you call the vet?”

  Buck nodded. “Leo’s with us. He rang Doc Hey-wood on his cell phone, and he’s on his way.”

  Wade glanced at Rachel. “Can you make it back to the barn by yourself?”

  She slid out of the saddle and grabbed the reins. “I’ll lead Molly back. It’s not that far.”

  Wade nodded. “Have Jordan help you with the saddle. I’ll be back soon as I can.”

  He turned his horse. Buck joined him and the pair galloped toward the river.

  With mounting frustration, Rachel watched them until they disappeared into the trees. She’d intended to confront Wade ever since lunch, to tell him she wanted to accept his proposal. What she was most anxious for, however, wasn’t the telling but his reaction. His demeanor toward her had run hot and cold for the last two days, and she’d hoped her acceptance would force him to acknowledge how he felt about her.

  This afternoon, he’d stalled her on purpose, and that fact made her uneasy. If he was still disposed toward going through with their marriage deal, why wasn’t he willing to talk to her about it? From all she’d learned of him, she knew Wade Garrett was an honorable man. Was he going to tell her he’d changed his mind?

  He kept saying she needed to delay a decision about marrying him until her memories returned. Was that what he was waiting for? For her to remember her past, so he could negate their agreement and send her back to her old life?

  Her head ached from unanswered questions and the jostling Molly had given her. She was no closer to knowing where she stood than she’d been that morning.

  With a sad heart, she turned toward the ranch.

  Chapter Ten

  Three hours later, Wade trudged up the stairs to his bedroom. Every bone in his body ached, and every inch of him was covered in mud. Between Rachel’s insistence on discussing their marriage arrangement and Rob’s stranded horse, he’d had enough crises for one day. Yet somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was about to go wrong. Trouble always came in threes.

  In his bathroom, he stripped off his muddy clothes and stepped into a hot shower. If he hurried, they wouldn’t be too late for supper before the barn dance.

  He scrubbed shampoo into his hair and shuddered. Sue Ann Swenson could qualify for the day’s third disaster. He hoped she’d save her catty comments for him and leave Rachel alone, but, knowing Sue Ann, he realized that was asking too much of fate.

  Ah, Rachel. What am I going to do with you?

  Although he wouldn’t have wished Rob’s horse trouble on anybody, he’d been grateful for the interruption this afternoon. He had no idea what Rachel had been prepared to tell him, but no matter what her decision, it wouldn’t have been good.

  If she’d decided not to marry him and to return to her old life, she would find out all too quickly that she wasn’t who she thought she was.

  Even worse, if she’d decided to accept his proposal, he would either have to find some way to stall her or flat-out turn her down. He couldn’t go marrying a woman who might already have a husband.

  No matter how much Jordan liked her.

  No matter how beautiful she was.

  No matter how good she made him feel.

  No matter how much he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until—

  He turned off the hot water and blasted himself with a freezing cold spray, cursing the day he’d come up with his harebrained scheme for a wife. He’d once thought he couldn’t find himself in a greater mess than Maggie had made of his life.

  He’d been wrong. Today proved it.

  Shivering, he shut off the shower and reached for a towel. His only hope was to stall Rachel long enough for the sheriff to discover her identity.

  But how?

  No answers came to him as he dressed for the dance. If he could draw Ursula aside during the evening, maybe she’d have an idea.

  Stepping into the hall, he yelled to Jordan, “Let’s go, son. We’re already late,” and bounded down the stairs. The sight that greeted him at the bottom drew him up short.

  Rachel waited on a bench by the front door. The late afternoon sun streamed through the window panels and cast a golden glow over her blond hair. The green gingham dress she’d bought in town looked even more alluring than when she’d first tried it on, and he had to thrust his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her.

  At his approach, she looked up and smiled with a sweetness that took his breath away. Then he noted the hint of cunning in her expression, and his stomach sank to his boots.

  “Jordan went ahead with Leo and Ursula,” she said. “That’ll give us time to talk on the way.”

  Silently cursing his luck, Wade painted on an accommodating grin. “Then we’d better get going. Sue Ann doesn’t take kindly to stragglers.”

  Hoping to head off her discussion, he began talking as soon as he started the pickup. “Leo tell you about the rescue?”

  She shook her head. “Ursula had him loading food for the buffet. Did you save Rob’s horse?”

  “Eventually. We tried pulling her out by hand and then with the tractor. When that didn’t work, the vet rigged a harness, and Dan Howard had the sheriff’s department’s helicopter flown in to lift the horse out.”

  Dan had watched the operation with Wade. “Found three Jennifers on the passenger list,” the sheriff had told him. “We’re in the process of tracking them down. Should have some answers for you soon.”

  “Is she all right?” Rachel asked.

  Wade snapped his attention back to the present. “The horse? She’s exhausted, but she’ll be okay. It was a close call.”

  They rode in silence for a few minutes. Wade’s mind raced, searching for safe topics of conversation. No woman except Maggie had ever had him in such a quandary.

  Maggie.

  Thank God, he thought, and grasped at the solution to his trouble.

  “Rachel?”

  “Yes?”

  She smelled of fresh air, flowers and fragrant soap, and he struggled to keep his mind on what he had to say. “I know you want to discuss our marriage arrangement.”

  He caught her surprised expression from the corner of his eye.

  “Heaven knows, I’ve tried,” she said. “I’ve decided you’re avoiding the topic.”

  “I have been,” he said with sincerity, “but not for the reasons you might think.”

  At least part of his statement was true, he assured himself. She had no idea of the real explanation why he couldn’t discuss their future.

  “Then you haven’t changed your mind?”

  He could feel her glance at him, but he didn’t dare meet her gaze. One look into those eyes as green as alpine meadow grass and he’d give himself away. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Taking a deep breath, he plunged ahead. “I don’t think you have all the facts you need to make the right decision.”

  She sat motionless, staring out her window at the passing grassland, glowing golden beneath the setting sun.

  “It’s still a business arrangement?” she ask
ed in a neutral tone.

  “Of course.”

  “You’ve explained the terms. I’ve met Jordan, seen the ranch. What else do I need to know?”

  Wade steered with one hand and raked the other through his hair. “You don’t know about Maggie.”

  She turned to him with an ironic smile. “It isn’t as if I haven’t tried. No one will talk about her.”

  “For good reason. When you hear, you’ll understand.”

  She twisted toward him. “So tell me.”

  “Not now.”

  She heaved a sigh of frustration. “Why—”

  “It’s a long story, and we’re almost to the Swensons’.” He turned the pickup off the highway onto the Swenson ranch’s access road. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Promise?”

  “Scout’s honor.” He raised three fingers and shot her a grin, feeling as if a boulder had been lifted from his chest. If he could delay her another day with Maggie’s story, maybe the sheriff would have her real identity by then.

  As Wade pulled up beneath a Douglas fir down the lane from the Swenson’s barn, however, his sense of oppression returned. He’d been so concerned with stalling Rachel’s decision making, he’d thrust Sue Ann Swenson clean out of his mind. The last thing he wanted was his marriage-hungry neighbor making trouble for Rachel.

  He circled the truck and opened Rachel’s door.

  She hesitated before taking his hand and stepping out. “This is all new to me.”

  Wade tucked her hand through his arm and headed past the rows of parked trucks and sport utility vehicles toward the barn. “Just stick with me. I’ll show you the ropes.”

  THE SOUNDS OF LIVELY conversation and laughter drifted down the lane. As they circled the low, modern ranch house, Rachel caught sight of the crowd in front of the barn.

  Women were arranging food on trestle tables made from long planks and sawhorses. Nearby, steaks sizzled on a huge outdoor grill. Bales of hay, placed strategically around the yard, served as seats. Several children ran through the crowd, chasing a border collie, and a group of men, beers in hand, gathered by the fence. From inside the barn drifted the sounds of the band warming up for the dance after supper. Electric lights covered by paper lanterns had been strung across the yard, lighting the entire scene like a stage.