Hand-Picked Husband

Hand-Picked Husband
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Name: Clay BarnettAge: 26Occupation: RancherThe whole state of Texas is convinced Autumn Reese was born to be Clayton Barnett' s bride. And nothing she or Clay say or do can convince the world otherwise. Unless, of course, they find their own marriage partners? Which is why they' ve both signed up with the Yellow Rose Matchmakers. Only, watching Clay date other women has made Autumn realize that perhaps the man she' s always thought of as Mr. Wrong may be oh so right!Texas Grooms Wanted!Only cowboys need apply!

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Question: How do you find the perfect man?

Answer: Read on ..

Texas Grooms Wanted! is a brand-new miniseries in Harlequin Romance.

Meet three wonderful heroines who are all looking for very special Texas men—their future husbands!

Good men may be hard to find, but these women have experts on hand They’ve all signed up with the Yellow Rose Matchmakers. The oldest—and the best!—matchmaking service in San Antonio, Texas, the Yellow Rose guarantees to find any woman her perfect partner....

So, for the cutest cowboys in the whole state of Texas, read:


Name:Heather MacAllister (aka Heather Allison!)
Age:Negotiable
Occupation:Writer
Marital Status:Currently retired from dating!
Ideal partner:Someone I can talk with forever
Ideal date:Anything with bagpipes and haggis

Strangest date: A friend was dating a policeman. He offered to take several of us for a ride in his patrol car. We piled in, drove around, and a call came through. He had to answer it, so he drove downtown to a really seedy area, then left us sitting in the car while he chased down the suspect. After catching him, the policeman had to call for another car, making up some story about why he already had a car full of college girls. I do not know—and do not wish to know—what he told the other policemen!

P.S. My mother does not know this!

What others have said of Heather MacAllister :

“Funny, tender, sassy. No matter what name she writes

under, Heather’s books are guaranteed smile-makers ”

—Day Leclaire

“Heather MacAllister makes me laugh, and that’s the

highest accolade can give to a fellow author Bet she’ll make you laugh, too!”

—Ruth Jean Dale

“For a good time, read Heather MacAllister!”

—Christina Dodd

Hand-Picked Husband

Heather MacAllister


www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

FACSIMILE

To: Nellie Barnett, Golden B Ranch

From: Debra Reese, Reese Ranch

Dear Nellie,

As far as I can tell, Autumn isn’t planning on going back to law school this semester. It wouldn’t hurt for you to give that boy of yours a nudge in her direction. You can’t expect her to wait forever.

We’re leaving for the Menger this afternoon.

Happy New Year!

FAX

To: Debra Reese, Reese Ranch

From: Nellie Barnett, Golden B Ranch

Dear Debra,

I have nudged. Clay is spending the night at the Menger with friends. Good

luck, and happy New Year!

AUTUMN Reese stifled a yawn and signaled the waiter for another cup of coffee. Why did the San Antonio Rodeo Swine Auction Program Committee always schedule their kickoff for New Year’s Day? At least she’d managed to convince them to change it to a brunch from the breakfast it had been in years past.

Autumn’s mother poked her in the ribs. “Perk up and smile, honey. There’s Clayton.”

“I’m not perking for anything but coffee.” She stared at the bottom of her cup. “And I sincerely hope there’s a pot perking for me.”

“People are watching,” Debra Reese said without moving her lips and still smiling herself. “You can’t continue to pretend that you haven’t seen Clay without there being talk.”

“There’s always talk.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

As her mother raised her hand to wave at Clayton Barnett, their ranching neighbor to the west, Autumn sent a dutiful smile of acknowledgment his way, saving her real smile for the waiter, who was now weaving his way around the tables in the Menger Hotel banquet room with a pot of coffee.

“Clay!” her mother called in a voice guaranteed to draw the attention of anyone who hadn’t noticed Clay’s tardy arrival. “We saved you a place.”

Autumn cringed. “What if he doesn’t want to sit here, Mom?”

Debra turned to her daughter in surprise. “Where else would he want to sit?”

And that pretty much summed up the attitude of their ranching community, Autumn thought. Somehow it had been determined that she and Clay were meant for each other, and that was that.

Autumn watched Clay succumb to the inevitable and begin making his way toward them. They’d grown up as next-door neighbors, or as close as next door got in rural Texas. It wasn’t as though she had anything against him. He’d become a good-looking man and was by all accounts a decent human being. She’d known him forever. She’d worked with him, fought with him, competed with him and had even gone to the same college with him.

But did that mean she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with him?

The waiter and Clay arrived about the same time. “Morning, Miz Reese. Autumn.”

“Clay!” her mother fluttered. “I haven’t seen you since Christmas

“And the week just flew by.” Autumn nudged her cup toward the waiter. Autumn’s mother nudged her.

“Go ahead and leave the pot,” Clay instructed the man, and folded his long legs under the table.

The waiter did so—before pouring Autumn’s coffee. With an irritated look at Clay, she lifted the heavy thermal pot and splashed coffee into her cup.

Grinning, Clay shoved his cup and saucer across the table. Because Autumn was under the watchful eye of her mother, she poured coffee for Clay, as well, instead of telling him to pour his own, which she would have done had they been alone.



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