His response surprised her. It was what she would expect from a husband—a real husband—protecting his wife’s interests.

His gaze drifted downward. “See you’re still wearin’ your boots.”

“Yes, thank you. I l-love them.” Catching herself midstutter, she drew in her breath. Thank God, Ginny wasn’t around to hear her. She only wished the child hadn’t linked stuttering with love.

Chase looked pleased, and the warm feeling that rushed through Emily was both exhilarating and worrisome. She had no intention of staying on the ranch one moment longer than necessary. Ranch life was not for her. It was too isolated. Too confining. Too intense.

Whatever crazy, mixed-up feelings she had for him had to stop.

15

March drifted into the longer days of April and the second month of calving season.

Work demanded most of Chase’s attention, and Emily saw little of him. It hadn’t bothered her before, and she was surprised that it bothered her now.

How was it possible to miss someone for whom she had so little regard? But miss him, she did. It wasn’t something she wanted to admit, but what else would explain the way he dominated her thoughts? Or why she constantly listened for his footsteps. His voice.

When asked why he spent so many evenings in his office, he told her he had bookkeeping to do, bills to pay, correspondence to catch up on. She didn’t want to think that he was avoiding her, but it certainly seemed that way. Could a ranch really command that much paperwork?

Then, of course, there were his weekly trips into town. She tried not to picture him and Mrs. Decker together, but it was hard not to. It was harder still to reconcile her depression just thinking about it.

Many were the nights that she dined alone, and it was often late before she heard Chase tiptoeing past the foot of her bed on the way to his own room.

Her loneliness might have been easier to bear had she not been subjected to sympathetic looks from Cookie.

Such were her thoughts that day as she left the stables, so she didn’t notice the strange black horse tied to the railing until she reached the house. Did they have company? She got her answer the moment she climbed the steps to the porch and came face-to-face with Chase’s stepbrother.

He sat on a wicker chair rolling a cigarette and greeted her with a sardonic look. The two men shared similar dark hair but otherwise looked nothing alike. Something about him made her think of a snake-oil salesman, and she quickly put up her guard.

“If you’re looking for Chase, he won’t be back until after sundown,” she said.

“Actually, you’re the one I came to see.”

Eyebrows arched, Emily stared at him. “I can’t imagine why.”

“I have a proposition for you. A business proposition.”

Curious now, Emily waited for him to explain.

“I know that this is not the marriage you planned. You expected to marry another,” he said. “Just as Chase expected to marry Mrs. Decker.”