âWeâre not talking about a real marriage,â she assured him. âIt would be a marriage on paper.â
She was desperate, Rick realized. So desperate she was on the verge of tears. Walking away from Megan Ford would be hard to do. Heâd be haunted forever by those big blue eyes.
âWhat kind of coffee do you make?â
She blinked several times. âWhat kind? IâI usually grind my own beans. I likeââ
âGrind your own beans? Tell me you can cook, too.â
Megan gave him a befuddled stare. âWell, yes. Of course.â
He grinned at her, hoping to chase away those tears that still lingered. âHoney, looks like we got a deal.â
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He was the one.
Megan Ford nibbled on her bottom lip as she stared at the dusty cowboy leaning against the feed-store counter. Sheâd heard Mr. James, the store owner, call him by name, confirming his identity.
Richard Astin.
Her motherâs friends had recommended him.
If she werenât so desperate⦠But she was. Time was of the essence.
âWell, hello, there, Megan. What can I do for you?â Mr. James called out, having finally seen her in the dim shadows of the store.
âGood afternoon, Mr. James.â She remembered heâd gone to school with her mother and treated her as if she were a favorite niece even though sheâd only met him a month ago.
The cowboy turned around to glance at her, and she sucked in a deep breath. He might appear tired, dirty and down-at-the-heels, but he was good-looking. Maybe he wasnât as perfect for her plans as sheâd thought. But she didnât have any other candidates.
She stepped forward and extended her hand to the stranger. âI donât think Iâve met you. Iâm Megan Ford.â
âSorry, I shouldâve introduced you,â Mr. James said. âThis here is Richard Astin. We call him Rick. Heâs got a smart little spread outside of town.â
She smiled politely. âHow nice.â
His eyebrows raised over his warm brown eyes. âYeah. Are you ranching in the area?â
She shook her head. âNo, Iâm a nurse. I work for the doctors.â She didnât need to give their names. Dr. Greenfield had been the only doctor in the west Texas town of Cactus for a number of years. Heâd recently taken in a partner, Samantha Gibbons. Sheâd married one of the local men last summer.
The cowboy didnât look terribly interested in her history. Even better.
Turning back to Mr. James, the cowboy finished his business and started to go, tipping his hat at her as he strode past.
She wanted to grab his sleeve, to stop his departure, but she certainly didnât want to conduct a conversation in front of Mr. James. That would never do.
With a quick nod in the older manâs direction, she followed Richard Astin outside.
âMr. Astin?â she called out. Heâd covered a lot of territory in the two minutes heâd been out of her sight and was now standing at the door of an old pickup.
âYes, maâam?â
In the sunlight, though his gaze was shaded by his cowboy hat, the strong planes of his face were visible, making Megan hesitate. He wouldnât be easy to manipulate.
She drew a deep breath. It was now or never. âCould I have a word with you?â
RICHARD ASTIN stared at the pretty woman on the porch of the feed store.
Not another one.
Heâd thought he was safe here in Cactus. The eight months since heâd moved here had been the happiest of his life. The good people of Cactus took a man at face valueâ¦and left him to live in peace.
Well, most of them. The Matchmakers werenât quite as good about staying out of a manâs life. But heâd found them amusing. The four women had gotten their sons married, with children on the way. Then they had started looking for fresh bait. But lately theyâd left him alone.
âYes, maâam? Talk to me about what?â He didnât budge. She could come to him. Maybe there was another dance and the ladies had sent her over to lure him to it.
His left eyebrow was raised as he recognized distress on her face. Those blue eyes of hers appeared wary and she was nibbling on her full bottom lip.
She took one step toward him, and stopped. âItâsâ¦itâs personal.â
He dipped his head down so she wouldnât see his grin. He wondered which matchmaker had put her up to approaching him. Heâd have to tell them that she didnât know much about flirting.