The Wedding Deal

Unfortunately, the man she’d chosen to fill the role of bridegroom wasn’t cooperating with her plans.

With a determined stroke of the mascara wand, Eden applied a coat to her lashes, then swiped a shade of shimmering peach across her lips. Taking a step back, she eyed her reflection in the bathroom mirror critically.

A smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “Not bad,” she murmured, pleased with the subtle transformation from her everyday, “au naturel” look, to chic and sophisticated. She’d never been one to wear a lot of makeup, but she had to admit that the basics highlighted her green eyes, defined her cheekbones, and made her lips look full, glossy and alluring.

She’d rolled her hair into the hot rollers her sister had given her a few years ago, but she’d never used before because she’d never had a reason, or an occasion, to primp. The end results of those curlers were soft waves that tumbled to her shoulders, adding to the sensual aura she’d created. She also wore a new pair of formfitting black jeans, a white blouse with a western design patterned in black piping with pearled snaps down the front, and her waist was cinched with a black-and-silver belt.

Her chin lifted confidently, matching the enthusiastic sparkle in her eyes. “This ought to make Luke sit up and take notice,” she said to her image in the mirror.

She’d given Luke a week to think about her proposition and accept her offer, and all she’d got for her patience and waiting was Luke reverting back to the polite, courteous hand she’d originally hired. He spent the long days out on the range until the sun set. When he rode back to the main ranch in the evenings, he avoided being alone with her, and didn’t encourage casual conversation. From what she’d learned from Jake, Luke was spending his nights down at The Silver Spur.

She found his evasive behavior exasperating, but a challenge as well. Her renegade cowboy had yet to see just how stubborn and persistent she could be.

Turning, she headed into her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her black leather heeled boots. She refused to put her pride on the line and beg for Luke to help her, but she had no qualms about using feminine wiles to prompt him into accepting something she knew he wanted, coveted even. The way his eyes had glimmered with interest when she’d mentioned that land in Montana, along with their attraction to one another, gave her hope that he only needed a little prompting to agree to her one-year proposition.

Tonight would tell, when she followed through on her bluff to find another candidate who would appreciate her profitable overture. For the first time since Bryce’s death, she was going out in public with the pretense of finding herself a man. There was only one man’s attention she sought, and with luck, and a little jealousy, she’d have him—for a year.

“Mom, is it almost time for you to take me to Ashley’s?”

Eden glanced up as her daughter entered her room, an overnight bag in hand, looking anxious to get to her best friend’s house where she was spending the night. At eight years old, Phoebe was sprouting like a weed and was taller than most of the girls in her third-grade class. Her legs were long and coltish, her body slender yet sturdy from riding her horse, and doing her share of chores around the ranch.

She wore the long sable hair she’d inherited from her father in a single braid down her back, and her wide hazel eyes sparkled with youthful bliss. Like any young girl who adored her daddy, Phoebe had been devastated when Bryce had died, but over the years she’d adapted to life without him, and it just being the two of them.

Smiling easily, Eden stood and crossed the room to the dresser. “We’ll leave in just a few minutes, honey-bunch.”

Phoebe dropped her bag on the floor and plopped down on the four-poster bed on her stomach. Propping her chin in her hands, she regarded Eden with a small measure of curiosity. “You sure look nice, and you smell pretty, too.”

Eden slipped on a pair of dangly silver earrings, and met Phoebe’s gaze in the mirror. “Thank you,” she said, certain there was more to come from her inquisitive daughter.

Phoebe didn’t disappoint her. “Are you going on a date?”

Eden was grateful that Phoebe didn’t sound opposed to the idea, but tonight’s quest didn’t really qualify as a date in the traditional meaning of the term. “No, not really a date,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I’m just going out with a friend for the evening.”

Enthusiasm brightened her eyes. “A man friend?”

If Eden’s plan worked, she’d definitely land her man. “Yes, a man friend.”

Phoebe’s smile was both hopeful and yearning. “Will I get to meet him?”

Eden didn’t want to think of the complications of that…yet. “We’ll see,” she said, playing it safe by being vague. Coming back to the bed, she sat beside her daughter. She stroked a hand over the crown of her head, down the length of her soft, thick braid, and toyed with the end. “What do you think of Luke, Phoebs?” She needed to know, because it was important to her that Phoebe connected with Luke. There had been other hands she’d hired that her daughter hadn’t taken to.

Rolling to her back so she was looking upside-down at her mother, Phoebe shrugged. “I like him. He’s always really nice to me, and he shares his cinnamon candies with me.” She grinned impishly. “He told me where he keeps his secret stash of candies in the tack room, and told me I could have one any time I wanted.”

Eden laughed with amusement and relief. “He did, did he?”

Phoebe nodded, clearly won over by Luke’s simple but thoughtful gesture. “He also likes to play with Mouser, and has special treats for her, too. Yesterday I helped him make a soft bed for Mouser since she’s going to have her kittens soon.”

Eden wasn’t surprised to hear what a softy Luke was beneath that brooding facade of his. She knew he was a kind, gentle man, despite his attempt to keep everyone at arm’s length. Now, if she could just break through his frustrating reserve and convince him to agree to her bargain…

Hopefully, tonight’s performance would change his mind.

Luke wasn’t into drinking and carousing like most hands were, and preferred to keep to himself. In fact, he’d just recently, as of a week ago, started frequenting The Silver Spur in an attempt to avoid Eden in the evenings. Making himself scarce during the day was easy since the ranch and cattle occupied his time. Staying in his apartment at night left too much opportunity for Eden to visit him again, and plead her case. The time in between when he had no choice but to talk to her, he kept their conversation strictly business, and though she’d had ample opportunity to broach the issue of her offer, much to his relief she hadn’t.

A week had passed since Eden’s proposition, and he was beginning to think that she’d given up on her outrageous idea, and her threat to find someone else. While one part of him was grateful for the respite, another part worried about her future as it stood in her brother-in-law’s controlling hands.

Just a few days ago he’d ridden in early and overheard Eden in her office in the barn, arguing with Allen on the phone. She had creditors who were demanding payment on accounts that were running over thirty days, and she needed an increase in her monthly allowance to keep her accounts open. Judging by the angry way she’d slammed down the phone and the very unladylike oath she’d muttered, he’d surmised that Allen hadn’t acceded to her request.

Rolling his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the guilt preying on his conscience, Luke finished his first bottle of beer, then motioned to the burly man standing across the bar and ordered another. For the hundredth time, Luke told himself that Eden’s welfare wasn’t his concern. He was merely a hand who was doing his job, but he couldn’t help but feel culpable, since he knew he could help her out of her predicament.

Frustrated with his thoughts, he redirected his mind and attention to the people out on the dance floor. It was Saturday night, and the establishment was full and rocking. There was a lot of good-natured ribbing going on at nearby tables, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Although Luke found it amusing to watch the men flirt with the single ladies in hopes of getting lucky, and vice-versa, he wanted no part of the one-night-stand scene. A few women usually approached him to dance, or to attempt to draw him into conversation, but he’d politely refuse their company, preferring to be left alone.

After the first hour, word usually spread that the dark-haired cowboy at the bar was a solitary man, which only served to heighten speculation about his reputation, and intrigue women even more.

If they knew the truth about his past, they wouldn’t be so eager to attract his attention.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” a deep voice drawled from a table next to the bar. “Is that Eden Lowe?”

“Sure does look like Eden,” another man confirmed, his voice infused with masculine interest.

A low whistle expressed male appreciation. “Yep, that’s her,” a third added. “And if I do say so myself, she sure is lookin’ mighty fine, boys.”

At the mention of Eden’s name, Luke’s entire body grew taut. Unable to believe that she’d venture to such a rowdy establishment when she didn’t strike him as the type to patronize the local bar, he squinted toward the entrance of The Silver Spur, struggling to see through the haze of stale cigarette smoke hanging in the air and the crush of people shuffling across the sawdust-strewn floor.

He saw a cloud of russet curls first, the rich shade enough to verify that his lady boss had, indeed, ventured into rowdy territory. As the crowd alternately shifted and cleared, he caught a full-length glimpse of her, and his mouth went dry.

She looked absolutely stunning. And sexier than the fantasies that had plagued him the past week. Gone were the fresh face, efficient braid, and conservative clothes she wore to work the ranch on a daily basis. Her body-hugging black jeans and blouse showcased her voluptuous curves, and had most of the men in the establishment doing double takes. He was no better, considering he couldn’t pry his gaze from her, either.

She glanced around, saw him, and a sultry smile lifted the corner of her mouth. She started through the crowd toward the bar at a leisurely stroll, stopping occasionally to talk to someone she knew, then continued on. A good-looking cowboy lightly grabbed her wrist to stop her, and just when Luke would have vaulted across the room to intervene Eden laughed at something he said and seemingly chided him good-naturedly for whatever comment he’d made. The other man grinned, and let her go.

The deep breath Luke took did little to calm the frustrated anger skirting the edge of his temper.

“I wonder what she’s doing here at The Silver Spur,” one of the men at the table behind Luke speculated. “She hasn’t been here for years, from what I know.”

Luke took a long drink of his beer and narrowed his gaze on Eden, wanting to know the same thing.

“Maybe she’s lookin’ for a good time,” another at the table suggested, a leer in his voice.

“Oh, I’d be happy to show her a good time,” the third one drawled, cocky and self-assured.

Luke’s blood began to boil and the hand resting on the surface of the bar curled into a tight fist. He turned his head and glared at the young men, but the trio at the table had their gazes trained on Eden, and wolfish grins pasted on their faces.

He swore beneath his breath. Did Eden even realize what a pretty little hen she was in this den of foxes? Before the night was over, if she wasn’t careful she’d be gobbled up.

“Good evening, Miz Lowe,” one of the men at the table said as she neared. His gaze took a slow trip down the length of her, his interest obvious.

“Hello, Tom,” she acknowledged pleasantly. “How are Mary Jane and that new baby girl of yours doing?”

The tip of the young man’s ears turned red at the mention of the woman and child he had waiting for him at home. “They’re doing just fine.”