The Sheriff's Mail-Order Bride (The Watson Brothers #2)(7)



“No, I don’t. Not yet anyway.” He looked away from her accusing gaze and glanced at the house; his eyes roamed over the front porch she’d tidied, settled on the windows she’d cleaned. She really had worked hard to get the years of filth off the place and it showed.

“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but I thought this would be the best place to meet up. Let you get a look at the house and…”

“And what? Decide if it was good enough for me?” Her mood darkened and her lips thinned. The cheeky beggar. “Decide if I could live here amongst all the mess?”

“Uh, shall we go in and see the house, see what you’ve done?” He looked as though he was waiting for her to erupt and lash out but Gina kept her temper in check, barely. A lot rode on this first impression of the man she had travelled miles to marry. No point scaring him off now when she was so close to sealing her future, but the urge to let rip simmered under the surface with her temper.

“What I’ve done is scrub my fingers to the bone since I got here to make this place habitable, that’s what I’ve done because you told me it was your ranch and where you lived when you weren’t on duty. And now you tell me you don’t actually live here? Do you even own the place?”

“Yes. Of course I do.” He puffed up his chest as if she doubted his word? He was a deputy of the law, for heaven’s sake. Surely he was believable.

“But you don’t actually live here?” The words came out with little bursts of venom as she tried to keep the temper in check.

“Ah, no. I only bought the place a few weeks ago. My brother has been helping me clear out the garbage but it still needs renovating. I’ve already got the builders lined up.”

Gina turned and, with skirts swishing around her legs, walked up the steps and into the house, Fisher on her hip. Rory followed. She heard him take a deep breath as they walked down the passage. Where once he would have smelt musty furniture, Gina had replaced it with jars of flowers from the overgrown garden, their smell lingering through the house.

She stood with her back against the kitchen counter and waited for him to say something. When he just stared at her with an indescribable sad look in his eyes, she spoke. “I think we need to talk now and get this sorted, don’t you?”

Rory blinked and nodded his head. She’d done so much in a mere few days. “Yeah, guess we do. So you go first. What do you want to know?” He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and watched her struggle for the right words.

“You told me over the phone you had a ranch were we would live and your photo had a house behind you but it wasn’t this place. Is this your idea of a joke, because I don’t think it’s very funny?”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t live here?”

Gina chose her words carefully. This really was no worse than what they lived in for the last couple of years. At least they wouldn’t be sharing the bathroom with another few families, and she had her own kitchen even if it was out of date and needed a really good clean. “I could live here. I’ve had worse, far worse in fact. Just listening to what you said on the phone, I wasn’t expecting it to be quite so run down though.” She swallowed, hoping she wasn’t sounding too much like a needy princess. Spending time here on her own had made her feel as though it was already hers. “Now I’ve cleaned it up, it doesn’t seem quite so bad.”

“So, you’d live here, especially if the place had a more homely feel about it?” He pulled a face at Fisher and the baby giggled, hiding his face against his mother’s neck before peeking out again and laughing.

Regardless of how I really feel, I have to grovel and make him feel better so he won’t send us away. I might not like it but I’d hate being scorned and sent packing a heck of a lot more. “Yes, I would.” It was bigger than the room she’d been living in for the last two years and it was away from the city. She could make a nice home here for their little family if only she could convince him they could all make it work. Besides, she kind of like the remoteness and space the ranch offered.

“You didn’t tell me you had a child. Why not?”

Heat washed up her cheeks and she glanced away, fiddling with Fisher’s curls, wrapping one around her finger so she didn’t have to look at him. “I didn’t have any choice. It’s not like I told you a lie, I just didn’t tell you the whole story. He’s a good baby, never a problem, I promise. And I meant what I said about wanting a family, more children that is. I’d do it again too, anything for my child. If you were a parent, you’d understand that you’ll always put them first and do anything you can to take away the pain life can inflict on them.” Her throat worked as she swallowed.





Chapter Three





If you were a parent. Rory reached over and took the child, holding Fisher against his chest and wondered if this is what his child would have looked like. The baby smell reached his nose and his throat closed up with an unknown emotion. It took a moment for it to subside, time he took to take in every little sparkle in the toddler’s eyes, every eyelash that fluttered against his cheeks.

“Hey, little one. You’re a cute little button, aren’t you?” Fisher reached out a pudgy hand for his hat and Rory took it off and placed it on his head. The baby tilted his head back so the hat fell to the floor and reached for Rory’s mouth, digging his chubby fingers into the soft fleshy skin of his bottom lip and chin.

Ann B. Harrison's Books