The Rancher Needs A Wife

“Except when it suits you.”

“That’s the annoyingly efficient part.”

“Children.” Jenna carried a laundry basket piled high with bath towels past the table, headed toward the mudroom. Her gold hair was threaded with silver, but her features and figure were still youthful. “Please. If you must bicker, take it outside.”

“It’s too cold to bicker outside,” said Fitz. “May we bicker in the office? How about whispered taunting? Only the tauntee would hear it, I swear.”

“Can it, Kelleran.” Maggie finished her coffee and turned to rinse the mug. “I don’t have time for any of your nonsense.”

“I could make it fast.” He leaned in and lowered his voice in a sample whisper. “Come on, Maggie. One good insult, to start the day right.”

“Can it, or I’ll tell Ellie you’re bugging me again.”

That shut him up fast. There was something oddly endearing about the way the man pretended to live in abject terror of her pint- size former sister-in-law.

Maybe that’s what had gone wrong in her own marriage. Not enough playful pretense or genuine concern. At least, not on her husband’s part. Alan was the premier member in their unequal partnership, the one with the blue-blooded background, the one with the ivy-league education and the finely tuned sensibilities. Recently she’d realized that his expectations weren’t so much a subtle tutoring as a smothering burden.

But it was too early in the day for regrets and recriminations. And she’d already spent too much time this morning indulging in memories. She needed to concentrate on the business she’d intended to discuss with Fitz when she’d headed to the house this morning.

“That was a nice offer that was announced at the board meeting last night,” she said. “Very generous.”

“Thank you.” He sipped at his coffee. “And that was an interesting proposal you made.”

“Interesting?”

“Very interesting.” He saluted her with his mug. “And well prepared.”

“Two compliments in one morning.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “I’m all aflutter.”

“I wouldn’t let the local males know you’re such an easy mark, if I were you.”

“Don’t worry about it. And don’t worry about my plans for the theater.” She settled back against the counter and crossed her arms. “I did my research.”

He nodded. “And plenty of it.”

“So…”

“So?”

“So, what do you think, Will?” she said, turning to the ranch foreman for a little extra

support. “Don’t you think improving the stage area would be a good use of those funds?”

“I think I’m going to have to think long and hard on this whole situation.”

“How long?” she asked.

“Until it’s over.” Will gave her a wink and sipped at his coffee.

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have a part in making the decision,” she said. “But some people do. Some people have a serious responsibility.”

Fitz donned a suitably sober face. “Responsibility.”

“Yes. A very serious one.” She shook her head with a sigh. “Making the right decision is a heavy burden. It can impact the future in countless ways.”

“Hmm,” murmured Fitz. “I suppose I could deal with that burden by offering another donation next year.”

“Yes, you could.” She unfolded her arms and checked her manicure. “Or you could double this year’s.”

“Yes, I could.” Fitz’s serious frown slowly dissolved into a wicked grin. “But I won’t.”

She raised one eyebrow. “You won’t even consider the option?”

“Nope.” He rocked back on his heels. “I want to see you try to get people to change their minds. Ten bucks says you can’t do it.”

“I’m not going to bet on something this important.”

“Ten bucks, and the loser takes out a full-page ad in the Tucker Tribune. Winner chooses the wording.”

She choked back a laugh. “No.”

“Afraid you’ll lose?”

“It’s not a competition.”

“No one said it was.”

“It’s going to turn into one,” said Will. “I hope you realize that. Both of you.”

Before Maggie could respond, Jody, her twelve-year-old niece, bounded down the stairs. “Morning, everyone. What’s for breakfast?”

“Your gran mentioned something about French toast,” said Will. “I’m hanging around to see if she meant it.”

“Jenna’s making her French toast?” Fitz looped an ankle around a chair leg and snagged a place at the table. “Sorry to give such late notice, Will, but I won’t be helping you repair the south well house this morning. I quit.”

“You can’t quit,” said Jody as she dropped into her seat. She pulled a napkin into her lap and tucked hair the same reddish hue as her mother’s behind one ear. “You’re the boss.”

“Explain that to your mom,” said Fitz. “Please.”

Fitz may have purchased the ranch after the fire’s destruction pushed Granite Ridge’s shaky finances to the edge of bankruptcy, but Ellie remained in charge, managing the day-to-day details as she had since Tom’s death.

“You knew what you were getting into when you married her,” said Jody. “I warned you.”

“You did not.”

“Yes, I did. I said, ‘Fitz, watch out.’”

“That had nothing to do with marrying your mother. That was before I stepped in that pile of shit out behind the barn and ruined my dress loafers.”