A Rancher Of Convenience
Fill-In Father…and HusbandSweet mail-order bride Nancy Bennett can't believe it when her husband’s exposed as a cattle rustler—and killed. And when the banker holding the ranch’s mortgage questions whether she can run the ranch on her own, the pregnant widow has nowhere to turn. Until steady foreman Hank Snowden proposes marriage…Wracked with grief about his role in Lucas Bennett’s death, Hank resolves to do right by the man’s wife and child. So it’s natural for him to step in as Nancy's newly minted husband. But the marriage of convenience may become more than a mere obligation…if only Hank and his bride can brave the first steps toward elusive true love.Lone Star Cowboy League: The Founding Years – Bighearted ranchers in small-town Texas
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Fill-In Father...and Husband
Sweet mail-order bride Nancy Bennett canât believe it when her husband is exposed as a cattle rustlerâand killed. And when the banker holding the ranchâs mortgage questions whether she can run the ranch on her own, the pregnant widow has nowhere to turn. Until steady foreman Hank Snowden proposes marriage...
Racked with grief about his role in Lucas Bennettâs death, Hank resolves to do right by the manâs wife and child. So itâs natural for him to step in as Nancyâs newly minted husband. But the marriage of convenience may become more than a mere obligation...if only Hank and his bride can brave the first steps toward elusive true love.
âThis is a matter of the future, yours and the babyâs.â
Nancy stared out over the corral. âBut marriage? I just buried my husband.â
His gut bunched at the memory. âI know. But I also know youâre going to be too busy soon to run a ranch. And that baby will need a father.â
Tears were gathering in her eyes again. âThatâs true,â she murmured. âBut Iâm not ready to be a wife.â
âAnd Iâm none too ready to be a husband,â Hank assured her. âBut I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.â
The tears were falling now. âOh, Hank, thatâs so kind of you. I donât know what to say.â
Kindness wasnât his reason, but he didnât correct her.
âJust think on it,â he urged, fisting his hands to keep from wiping the tears from her cheeks. âAnd Iâll understand if youâd rather find a better fellow than me.â
She turned then and stood on tiptoe to press a kiss against his cheek. âIâm beginning to think there is no finer fellow than you,â she murmured.
* * *
LONE STAR COWBOY LEAGUE:
THE FOUNDING YEARSâ Bighearted ranchers in small-town Texas
Stand-In Rancher Daddyâ
Renee Ryan, July 2016 A Family for the Rancherâ Louise M. Gouge, August 2016 A Rancher of Convenienceâ Regina Scott, September 2016
REGINA SCOTT has always wanted to be a writer. Since her first book was published in 1998, her stories have traveled the globe, with translations in many languages. Fascinated by history, she learned to fence and sail a tall ship. She and her husband reside in Washington state with their overactive Irish terrier. You can find her online blogging at nineteenteen.com. Learn more about her at reginascott.com or connect with her on Facebook at Facebook.com/authorreginascott.
For I was hungry and you gave Me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave Me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited Me in.
âMatthew 25:35
To my sister authors Renee Ryan and Louise M. Gouge for humoring and encouraging me through the writing of this book; and to the Lord, for opportunities, leadings and most of all love.
Contents
Windy Diamond Ranch,
Little Horn, Texas, July 1895
She was a widow.
Nancy Bennett shook her head as she stood on the wide front porch, looking out at the ranch her husband had built. Across the dusty ground in front of the house, a horse corral clung to a weathered, single-story barn. Beyond them, scrub oak and cottonwood dotted windblown grass where longhorns roamed, content.
She could not find such contentment. One hand clutched the letter that could spell the end of her dream. The other hand rested on her belly where it was just beginning to swell inside her black skirts.
She and Lucas had been married only ten months. She was still learning how to be a wife, hadnât yet accustomed herself to the idea that she would one day be a mother. Now Lucas was dead, killed because he had rustled from their friends and neighbors. And her whole world had been upended like a tumbleweed turning in the wind.
Sherriff Fuller had tried to be kind when heâd brought her the news two weeks ago. Sheâd been pressing the pedal of the wrought iron sewing machine Lucas had ordered for her, finishing the seam on a new shirt for him, when sheâd heard the sound of a horse coming in fast.
Such antics would have been so like Lucas, particularly since heâd bought that paint from her friend Lula May Barlow. Having been raised on a prosperous horse ranch in Alabama, Lucas liked fast horses, fine clothes. Sheâd never understood why heâd advertised for a mail-order bride, or why heâd chosen her. Perhaps he hadnât been satisfied with his options here in Little Horn. Lucas, sheâd learned, wasnât satisfied with much.
Still, sheâd risen to go greet him, like the dutiful wife she had tried so hard to be. Sheâd known everything was exactly the way he liked itâstew simmering on the stove with just the right amount of rosemary to spice it, parlor swept clean of the dust he perpetually brought in on his expensive tooled-leather boots and horsehair-covered chairs at precise angles facing each other in front of the limestone fireplace. Sheâd taken a peek at herself in the brass-framed mirror near the front door to make sure her long brown hair was carefully bound up at the top of her head with tendrils framing her oval face. Sheâd even pinched color into her cheeks, which had recently been far too pale, according to him. Surely there was nothing to set him on edge this time.
