“The will states that it has to be…a real marriage.” Reminded that only a short while ago, she had threatened to tell the judge he was unable to perform his husbandly duties, he couldn’t help but add, “And I can assure you, that would not be a problem.”

He paused to both weigh her reaction and gather his thoughts. Here they were, discussing the intimate side of marriage, and he didn’t even know what to call her. Missus sounded too formal, but her Christian name suggested a familiarity neither of them were ready for.

The color drained from her face. “By a real marriage, you mean—”

“It’ll have to look that way publicly,” he hastened to assure her, “but privately, I shall…respect your wishes.” It wasn’t the kind of marriage he’d envisioned or even wanted, but beggars didn’t always get to be choosers.

“You mean if I don’t want—”

They stared at each other for a full minute. In the short time he’d known her, he’d seen her scared, angry, indignant, and proud, but nothing had affected him as much as the vulnerability now showing in the depths of her long-lashed eyes. A protective surge rushed through him, followed by guilt for giving her such a hard time. As difficult as it was for him to admit needing another’s help, there was no getting around it. If she stayed, she would be doing him a huge favor.

“I know I’m not the man you planned on marryin’,” he said. “But I promise to do right by you.” When she showed no sign of lowering her guard, he continued. “All I’m askin’ for is a year. If’n for any reason you wish to end the arrangement before the time is up, I’ll not stop you from leavin’. I’ll even pay your way back to Boston, if’n that’s what you want. In return, I ask only that you act like a real wife to me in public. No one must know about our private arrangement.”

“Why a year?” she asked.

Chase drew in his breath. The unresolved hostilities with his pa still festered like an open wound. He’d hoped to earn his father’s forgiveness, but now it was too late. Even on his deathbed, his father had not uttered the words Chase had longed to hear.

“My father had the notion that a man wasn’t settled until he had a wife to support.” Not wanting to go into detail, Chase gave her the least complicated answer he could think of. “Guess the marriage stipulation was his way of makin’ sure his heir stuck to business and did right by the ranch.”

She mulled over his words with a thoughtful frown. “Didn’t he know how much this ranch means to you?”

Surprised that she knew that much about him—knew what even his father hadn’t known—Chase was momentarily speechless. “I once gave him reason to doubt me,” he said after a long moment. “Doubt my loyalty to the ranch.”

“I see,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “So, what do you say?”