Almost a Bride by Patricia McLinn

Author:Patricia McLinn
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ranches, western romance, ranching, wyoming, marriage of convenience
Publisher: Patricia McLinn

CHAPTER EIGHT

Matty was stretched out on the family room coach watching a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie from Donna Currick's extensive collection when she heard the outside kitchen door open.

It was the third night in the past week he'd gotten home after 10.

She frowned as the thought surfaced. She wasn't keeping track of him.

"These leftovers for me?" He came into the family room carrying the plate she'd left for him, and since a forkful of cold roast beef was already headed for his mouth, she figured he knew the answer.

"You could have heated it up."

He mumbled something as he chewed before finally saying, "It's good like this. And faster."

He gestured with the fork for her to bend her knees to make room for him on the couch. When she did, he sank into the cushion with a faint grunt. She sat up, with her legs stretched between them. It made it easy to watch him while he ate, his absent gaze fastened on the TV screen.

His shirt was rumpled, with one more button undone than his usual conservative two. His thick hair showed evidence of a pair of big hands pushing through it. His five o'clock shadow bristled with an additional five hours of growth. Lines at his mouth seemed to have dug deeper. She knew for a fact that the shadows under his eyes were new.

"You better look this tired because you're working too hard and not because you're out carousing, or I'm going to demand Brandeis as immediate compensation."

His lips twitched in an abbreviation of his usual grin. "You're not getting your hands on Brandeis over this, kiddo. It's about the farthest I could get from carousing."

"Owen Marshall?"

He glanced at her, then away. "Yeah."

That's all he would say, she knew, because Owen was his client. But she'd heard bits and pieces over the past week, from folks in town, from what Cal had picked up from a hand who was helping them, from Dave's foreman Jack. The Marshalls owned a big, thriving spread at the other end of Clark County. Owen was the strong-minded head of the family. At 60-something he'd expected there to be plenty of time to arrange for the next generation to take over the ranch smoothly. Then he'd collapsed, and they'd discovered widespread cancer. Now they were in a race to arrange matters so the ranch didn't get eaten up by taxes, disputes or family squabbles.

It wasn't that much different a situation from what Great-Uncle Henry had faced. Except he never had acknowledged he might die, there'd been only her to inherit – and they hadn't had Dave Currick working to prevent the mess she'd found herself in. The mess he'd been so instrumental in giving her a chance to dig out of thanks to his willingness to marry her. There wasn't another soul on earth she would have asked.

She swallowed. And changed the subject of her own thoughts.

"I called all the people on your list for that legal get-together. They're all coming," she announced.

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