The Horseman's Convenient Wife

by Mindy Neff

  Yet here was Eden, offering him the equivalent of every man’s fantasy—with no strings attached.

  And therein lay one of his biggest problems.

  ‘‘I’ve got a daughter to think about, Eden. I can’t conduct an affair with an impressionable child in the house.’’

  The desolation that came over her nearly scraped him raw. Her pale cheeks went even more ashen as understanding and acceptance registered.

  ‘‘I didn’t think,’’ she whispered, the agony in her voice almost too much for him to bear.

  He reached across the table and touched the back of her hand, feeling awkward as all get-out—even more so than usual. It was hard to remember that she was basically just using him.

  The back door burst open, startling them both.

  Hannah Malone made a grab for her son, but Ian skipped right into the kitchen behind Nikki, both kids frolicking like mischievous puppies.

  ‘‘I’m sorry.’’ Hannah stopped, glanced from Stony to Eden. ‘‘I should have called. I’m interrupting.’’

  ‘‘No, it’s fine.’’ Eden popped up out of the chair, her gaze clinging for a bare instant on Hannah’s straining, pregnant stomach. ‘‘Let me just get you something to drink.’’ Her eyes were bright, and though a dimple creased her cheek, Stony noticed the slight tremble at the corner of her smile before she turned away to open the refrigerator.

  Damn it.

  ‘‘No, really, Eden, I can’t stay.’’ Hannah glanced at Stony, the expression on her wholesome face bland, the curiosity in her eyes anything but. ‘‘I just took a chance and came by on my way from town—actually I buckled under pressure. Ian wanted Nikki to come home with us to play, so I thought I’d stop and ask.’’

  ‘‘Please, Daddy?’’ Nikki hop-skipped in a circle, pulling Stony’s hand. Rosie sat beside her and barked as though adding her approval. ‘‘The billy goat ate Hannah’s garden and we gotta go help her fix it.’’

  Stony glanced at Hannah. ‘‘Again? I thought Wyatt put up a fence to keep that from happening.’’

  ‘‘Yes, well, someone left the little gate open.’’ She cut her gaze to her four-year-old son, who was busy petting Rosie’s head, oblivious that he was being talked about.

  ‘‘Act’cally,’’ Nikki said solemnly, her round little cheeks puffing out when she smacked her lips together. ‘‘Ian leaved it open, but Hannah’s not mad at him. And the beetles are havin’ their supper on Hannah’s strawberries and I gotta get ’em ’cuz she’s a’scared of ’em.’’

  Stony’s lips twitched, and Hannah looked sheepish but resigned.

  ‘‘I’m making headway with the animals,’’ Hannah said laughingly in her own defense. ‘‘But the bugs are still a bit of a trial.’’

  ‘‘I’m sure they are.’’ The entire town had rallied behind Hannah when she’d relocated from California to Montana, longing to fulfill her dream of being a rancher’s wife—and scared to death of anything with fur or four legs.

  ‘‘Can I, Daddy?’’

  ‘‘Yeah, can her?’’ Ian begged.

  Stony ruffled both kids’ hair. ‘‘Okay, but—’’

  The children’s happy shrieks drowned out any instructions or admonitions he might have given. Realizing he’d be wasting his breath, anyway, he shook his head. ‘‘Go ahead and get your stuff, Nik.’’

  ‘‘Yeah! I got a new backpack, Ian. Come and see.’’ The kids took off at a run with Rosie on their heels.

  ‘‘Might as well sit,’’ Eden suggested to Hannah, smiling softly. ‘‘By the time Nikki takes everything out of the bag for Show and Tell and puts it back in again, it’ll be a good fifteen minutes. Trust me, she insisted I admire it, too.’’ She set a plate laden with fat sticky buns oozing melted brown sugar and plump walnuts on the table, along with a pitcher of tea. ‘‘It’s herbal,’’ she said, her gaze resting fleetingly on Hannah’s belly.

  ‘‘Oh, my gosh, those smell heavenly. Never mind that I’m big as a cow, I simply don’t have any willpower. This baby’s either going to crave sweets like mad or hate them.’’ She bit into the roll and closed her eyes in ecstasy. ‘‘Eden, you’re a genius. Anytime you want to come take over my kitchen, you’ll be welcome.’’

  Stony met Eden’s quick gaze. Although she immediately looked away, he thought he knew what had crossed her mind. There wouldn’t be much reason to stay here if she couldn’t accomplish her objective within her six month time frame.

  To get pregnant.

  By him.

  His heart thumped against his ribs. Wasn’t that just his lot in life? Women who only wanted something from him? Who wouldn’t stay? He thought he’d resigned himself to that reality, that it didn’t bother him, that he no longer yearned.

  He’d been kidding himself.

  He wanted a family. A complete family. Husband-wife-mom-dad-child—or children.

  If he agreed to her proposition, and she did become pregnant, could she be persuaded to stay?

  He put away that thought. The last thing he wanted was anyone feeling obligated to be with him.

  But the other thoughts—the crazy, impossible ones running around in his head about happy family units—were making his gut twist.

  And, he thought, moving a step closer to Eden’s chair, the bittersweet longing on Eden’s face that she couldn’t quite hide when she looked at Hannah’s stomach was tearing him up.

  The kids came bounding down the stairs, and Eden stood to wrap up the rest of the buns. ‘‘Take these home with you, Hannah.’’

  ‘‘Oh, I can’t. Stony will want—’’

  ‘‘I have plenty more.’’ Eden gave a shrug and a small smile. ‘‘Some people pace when they think. I bake.’’

  ‘‘And keep a body like that?’’

  ‘‘I’ve got good genes.’’

  ‘‘Lucky you. Ready, kids?’’

  Nikki kissed Stony, then tugged Eden down to treat her to the same.

  ‘‘Be good, sugar,’’ Eden said, automatically brushing Nikki’s bangs back out of her eyes.

  A loving action a mother would do.

  Stony looked away, feeling as though he’d been kicked in the gut by a mustang. He snapped his fingers for Rosie, who obediently trotted over and sat next to his side, even though she adopted a hound dog look because she hadn’t been invited to go along. They watched as Hannah loaded the kids in her white minivan, then eased herself behind the wheel, her stomach nearly pressing against the steering wheel.

  ‘‘She’ll either have to put the seat back and grow longer legs, or give up driving,’’ Eden remarked, waving to the kids as Hannah maneuvered the van out of the circular driveway and down the lane.

  Stony rested a hand on her shoulder and felt her tense. She looked up at him and gave him a smile, a smile that held both a question and an apology.

  He understood what it was like to want something so desperately. He’d felt those clawing emotions as a kid when he’d towered over his classmates, suffered the taunts and the name calling—Hulk, behemoth, freak. You’re too ugly to get a home or be adopted.

  He’d wanted so badly to be normal, to look like everyone else, had prayed for it, at the time not realizing that one day the other guys would begin to catch up. That one day his grandmother would find him, that she hadn’t thrown him away, that he would once again have a home and the love that had been so tragically snatched from him.

  He stared at his big hand gently cupping Eden’s slender shoulder, noted the contrast. He’d almost killed a guy with these hands and the reminder still made his gut clench.

  He’d learned to ignore the stupid taunts directed at him, but a slur against his grandmother had erupted in a blood-red rage so swift he hadn’t thought twice about letting his fist fly. He could still hear the solid sound of his knuckles connecting with flesh and bone. He’d only thrown one punch, but that’s all it had taken.

  The scope of the strength he possessed had frightened him, that and the fact that he was actually capable of truly harming
someone.

  From that day, he’d made it his daily goal to come to terms with his size and his looks, to put away his temper. Grandma had told him he needed to learn balance, to watch and listen. If he looked deeply, he would see that the meanness of others had roots, that someone had trampled their self-esteem, and that kindness begets kindness—the same principle he used time and again on the horses, particularly the ones who were difficult to handle.

  So he knew about yearning. In a different way, perhaps, but the same, nonetheless.

  He looked down at Eden, drawn to the shadows in her eyes, compelled to erase them, telling himself to tread carefully, that no matter what, he wouldn’t trap her.

  Still, against all reason, he wanted to be Eden Williams’s savior knight.

  She let out a sigh that matched the weariness in her eyes. As though there hadn’t been an interruption in their conversation, she said, ‘‘It’s okay, Stony. I understand. This was a crazy idea to begin with, and I apologize for putting us both in an awkward position. I’ll call Aunt Lottie and see how soon she can come home.’’

  Her smile was brave; her voice, chipper. That he could see right through both made his heart ache.

  ‘‘I have to warn you, they might balk at cutting their trip short. Even though they weren’t strictly honest with you, this really is a vacation for them. They’d planned a kind of reunion with my parents and some of their other friends, but I’ll see what I can do,’’ she said brightly.

  Too brightly.

  When she stepped away from him, something inside him gave way, something he couldn’t…or maybe wouldn’t define.

  He stopped her with a hand on her arm. ‘‘Marry me.’’

  Chapter Five

  It was Eden’s turn to go mute. She stared at Stony, heard the whinny of horses outside, the pounding of hooves as trainers put the beautiful creatures through their paces.

  ‘‘Excuse me?’’

  ‘‘I understand what you need,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘But because of the circumstances, Nikki mainly, that’s the only way I can see something like this working.’’

  ‘‘Marriage?’’ Her head was suddenly spinning.

  ‘‘With stipulations.’’

  She swallowed, continued to gape at him. ‘‘Of course.’’ Almost immediately she shook her head, held up a hand. ‘‘Wait a minute. What am I saying? There’s no ‘of course.’’’ Evidently, irrational behavior was contagious. And though she was the least likely of the two, someone had to be reasonable.

  ‘‘They’re necessary.’’

  ‘‘What? Oh, stipulations…yes. But I meant marriage.’’ She hadn’t counted on permanence—just a baby. She was thoroughly taken by surprise and off balance. ‘‘Stony, I have a house and a business in Dallas. And a partner.’’

  He gave a slow nod. ‘‘That’s why I said stipulations. You’ve given yourself six months, obviously intending to spend them here in Montana. Fine. We’ll give the marriage six months. If you’re not pregnant by then, we’ll call it quits.’’

  She rubbed her forehead where a headache throbbed with a consistent dull pain. ‘‘And if I am?’’

  ‘‘Your choice. The door will still be open. I’ll want rights as far as the child goes, though.’’

  ‘‘Yes, of course.’’ Her heartbeat stuttered, and her brain went into fast rewind. ‘‘What kind of rights? I mean, I never intended for you to pay child support or anything.’’

  ‘‘If you have my baby, I’ll pay child support.’’ His statement was resolute, brooked no argument.

  Although his attitude was commendable—the world would be a much better place if more men adopted the same one—Eden felt a slight niggling of unease.

  ‘‘I’d want to see my son or daughter, have him know who I am. You can choose the schedule and how often, but the main stipulation’s nonnegotiable.’’

  She rested her hand on his arm. ‘‘I feel the same, Stony. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t pursue the clinical approach. It’s important to me to know the father of my child. And I want my baby to know his or her father. That’s how I’d always imagined it…in a perfect world, that is. Before…well, you know.’’ If she’d had the luxury to wait for love and marriage. If the clock wasn’t ticking.

  He nodded. ‘‘I’d need my attorney to draft some papers, which of course will include clauses to protect your assets, as well.’’

  ‘‘Oh.’’ She fluttered a hand, a bit flustered. ‘‘I trust you.’’

  ‘‘You don’t know me.’’

  ‘‘That’s an odd thing to say after you’ve just offered marriage.’’

  He shrugged. ‘‘It’s true.’’

  ‘‘You’re right. And smart. Thank you for having a care for my protection. My mother’s a judge—municipal court. She’d have fined me for stupidity if the code existed.’’ Eden smiled. ‘‘I confess I’m a little muddled right now. I’ve never been married before.’’

  ‘‘I have.’’

  She gaped at him. ‘‘You have? Aunt Lottie never said anything.’’

  ‘‘Why should she? It’s old news. But you get my point now.’’

  Yes, she got the point. Aunt Lottie had told her about Stony’s personality, his gentleness, his uncanny ability to charm horses, his dedication as a father. She’d sent a photograph as further enticement. But that was the extent of it. Now that she thought about it, Aunt Lottie had never offered personal details, had never breached Stony’s confidences.

  Eden did not know Stony Stratton.

  She only knew she had a powerful attraction to him. He made her tremble, and he made her ache in an elemental, carnal way.

  But marriage? Could she do it?

  She’d waited thirty-four years to do it right, had held on to the fairy-tale fantasies about love, marriage and family, even though she’d chosen to pursue career and financial stability first. That was the proper way to do things, she’d thought, the smart way.

  Oh, she’d gone through the years of despairing that she’d ever marry, fearing that she’d end up an old maid. She’d watched her friends from high school settle down to husband, home, kids and carpools, and had suffered through a gut-wrenching, demeaning period in life when she’d looked at every man with an eye toward getting him down the matrimonial aisle.

  The worst had been when Carrie had gotten married. They were best friends—and partners in business now—and had always done things together.

  Thankfully, Eden had come to her senses, learned to be patient, to be comfortable with who she was and to respect her goals. To fulfill her career and financial aspirations first, trusting that when she was mature enough, the right man would come into her life, a man who would love her and she him, in return. A man with whom she would share friendship as well as the kind of deep and abiding love that would overcome life’s obstacles and carry them through until death would part them.

  So, could she do this? Set aside her ideals of marriage and happily ever after? Could she enter into this sacred institution knowing up front that it could never work, that in fact it was predetermined to end in six months’ time?

  Because it couldn’t work, even if she wanted it to. Her life and family were in Texas, more than fifteen hundred miles away.

  And the man proposing marriage didn’t love her.

  Cramps tightened her belly, low in her abdomen, sending a wave of nausea through her. She fought the weakness.

  Just like she intended to fight it until the very last moment, until there was no longer any hope.

  But right this minute there was hope.

  And Stony Stratton was offering it…or agreeing, rather, with minor—major, she amended—alterations.

  ‘‘Are you sure about this, Stony?’’

  ‘‘It’s your decision.’’

  That wasn’t an answer. But she wanted a baby more than anything. She wanted to try.

  With Stony, she realized.

  Which meant agreeing to his conditions.

  ‘‘When di
d you have in mind…to get married?’’

  ‘‘The sooner the better. Chances are good that Lottie didn’t keep this plan to herself,’’ he said. ‘‘All she’d need to do is tell one person, and the whole town would know in a matter of hours. Which means they’re already speculating, wondering if we’ve started trying for this baby of ours.’’

  His words and his steady look made her blush. The curse of her auburn hair color, she’d been told. There was no controlling the way her cheeks bloomed at the least provocation. And he was right about the grapevine. Ozzie Peyton and Iris Brewer had already dropped some heavy hints and slips. Deliberate ones, she suspected.

  ‘‘Before you answer, though, there’s something I need to do.’’

  ‘‘Of course—’’

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her words dried up.

  Oh, she thought. He meant he needed to do something right this very minute.

  Suddenly she could hardly draw a breath. When his lips touched hers, her mind went absolutely blank for an endlessly long second. Then her senses kicked in, noting the smell of leather, the feel of his oval belt buckle pressing against her stomach, the sound of her own heart beating in her ears.

  The sheer size of him surrounded her, made her feel petite and protected. The exquisitely gentle press of his palm on her back made her feel cherished.

  She had to remind herself to tread carefully, to act like a lady, to take it slow. Because suddenly she felt wild, had an urgent, pressing need to get hot and sweaty and let desire sweep them over the rapids of sensation.

  But Stony was old-fashioned enough to want marriage—even temporarily—rather than an affair. She didn’t want to offend.

  When she felt the pressure of his body lessen, she found her lips clinging, found herself on tiptoe, trying to hold on to just a split second more of magic. And when she finally had the wherewithal to open her eyes, she knew the expression in them was stunned.

  ‘‘That answers one of my questions.’’

  She had to clear her throat. ‘‘And that was?’’

  ‘‘Chemistry. It’s there.’’

  ‘‘I’ll say.’’

  ‘‘And to the other?’’