Rena’s gaze shot back to his solemn look. Her soft, “No,” was as choked with disbelief as it was spontaneous.
“The forecast is skimpy on rain and I’m tired of hauling in water at a premium price.”
Rena shook her head, now unable to tear her gaze away from the rocky sternness of his rugged face. “You can’t marry a stranger for a piece of land. Marriage ought to mean more than that.”
The sternness on his face didn’t change by a flicker. “It should mean more than that, but often doesn’t. It ought to mean more than lust and it ought to mean more than bringing a new generation into the world. But most times it is about convenient sex and having kids.”
“What about…love?” It was a bold and intimate question for her to ask, but it had come out almost without her permission.
Now his stern mouth relaxed into a faint curve. “You are young, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. “And naive. Besides which, Abner’s in an almighty hurry and I’m not sure the drought gives us time for more than an agreement and a ceremony.”
He hadn’t truly answered her question, or had he? What he was saying was that his mind was made up. He wanted the land and he’d marry her without a second thought to get it.
Convenient sex and having kids. Apparently those were his only requirements beyond getting his hands on the west section of Lambert Ranch. Why that caused her incredible pain was no surprise to a woman who’d had so little love in her life that she’d fantasized about having at least a little someday.
Disappointment made her heart quiver and feel heavy. Her soft, “I’m packing to leave today” was little more than a whisper. She couldn’t seem to control the sad undertone in her words, so she finished quickly. “Your business is with my father, not me.”
She turned to start for her pickup and escape, but Ford’s voice brought her to an abrupt halt.
“I’m still negotiating with your father. He either wills Lambert to you outright, or there’s no deal.”
Startled by that, Rena looked back at him. “What?”
The stern line of his mouth curved slightly, but the dark glitter in his eyes banished any impression of humor. “You heard right. I’d be getting more than a wife, so you should get more than a husband. And just so you know, no man’s going to devalue my wife to the level of brood mare.”
It took a few seconds for her to absorb that, and she searched his face, looking for any sign that she’d misheard. Hadn’t he just said that marriage often didn’t mean more than convenient sex and having children? So why would he now say something that seemed opposite that? And something that so strongly hinted at a streak of protectiveness and maybe possessiveness?
“Tell Abner I’ll be by later,” he continued, as if he was oblivious to her reaction, though she knew he must have sensed it. “If things don’t work out and you go through with your plan to leave, I might have a job for you. See if you’re as good with horses as people say.” He paused and his voice lowered to a gravelly drawl. “I suspect they’re right.”
A compliment. Rena didn’t know how to take it, she didn’t know how to take any of the astonishing things he’d said to her. The rush of pleasure—profound pleasure—was unfamiliar and she was suddenly incapable of doing more than keeping her reaction under rigid control. Her face felt like a stiff mask.
Her perception—that Ford Harlow was a man like her father—had abruptly reversed. The odd sense that he was on her side and that when he saw her father he would be her advocate, was astonishing. No one had taken her side against her father since before her aunt’s death when she was eight.
A whisper of trust gusted over her heart, but the offer of a job was almost as terrifying as the thought of marrying him. Anything that would amount to being near this man on a regular basis was terrifying. And exciting.
She prayed her soft, “I’ll tell him,” didn’t reveal anything deeper than her agreement to tell her father to expect his arrival. She still couldn’t respond to the rest of what he’d said. Seconds rushed on and she felt them acutely. The best she could do was give him a faint nod and turn away to walk to her pickup.
CHAPTER TWO
THE Lambert Ranch west section had once been a ranch of its own, and though Harlow ancestors had bought up other properties further west, the original owner had sold the piece to a Lambert. On a modern-day map, the parcel would look like a hefty bite into the eastern boundary of Harlow Ranch.
In the time it had taken Rena to pack her things from the house and load everything into her pickup, she’d decided that Ford had changed his mind. He’d probably elected to wait for Frank Casey and his sons to inherit. Besides, Harlow Ranch was already vast. The most the parcel would add to it besides more grazing and water, was a straighter eastern boundary.
Given that, there was no logical reason for Ford Harlow to go to the extreme of shackling himself to a woman he barely knew, particularly a female who was far less than a man like him should have to settle for. Desperation might put a man in that situation, but Ford was hardly desperate. The drought was a drain on his resources, but little more. Other than the challenge of bargaining to at last get the section, there could be no other reason than greed or ego to marry her to get it.
And, if greed or ego was the reason, marrying a woman whom everyone considered mannish and undesirable was hardly the kind of showy marriage match expected of such a man.
Because she’d assumed Ford had changed his mind, his arrival was a surprise, but it was a shock when he insisted that she be present during his negotiations with her father.
That negotiation quickly degraded to a virtual showdown. The tension in the den was excruciating, though it was mostly hers. Her father sat stiffly behind his desk, his ongoing irritation evident. Ford leaned back comfortably in one of the wing chairs that his size seemed to dwarf, one booted ankle resting casually on the opposite knee. Rena was too jittery to sit and stood at the side of the room.
Her father, in a perpetual black mood, glared across the desk at the man who gave every impression of being untroubled by the old man’s increasing surliness.
Abner’s voice was sharp. “You want the land bad enough, you’ll marry the girl.”
Ford let a moment pass, as if to emphasize what he was about to say. Abner leaned forward, drawn by his impatience for a response.
“If I marry your daughter, she’ll be my legal wife. I won’t let my wife suffer a slight that’s in my power to prevent, and I won’t profit by a marriage that won’t also profit her.”
Ford’s solemn declaration sent a flush of anger to her father’s face. “And I can put in my will that no Harlow can ever get that land,” he railed. “Frank Casey’ll have to abide by that, so she’s your only chance to get it.”
Ford was unperturbed by the threat. “The land is yours, do what you want with it. But you need to realize you’ve given her no reason to give me the time of day.”
The old man hit the desk with his fist. “She’ll marry you because she does what I say.”
“She’s packed to leave, Abner, so it’s clear you’ve lost any say over her.”
Now Abner shot Rena a furious look. “She’ll get a husband outta this deal she’d never get otherwise.”
Rena did her best to appear unfazed by yet another of her father’s insults. She was already impatient to leave the room and be on her way. She might have left the room that moment, but Ford spoke.
“How do you know I couldn’t win her over and persuade her to marry me?” The hard look on Ford’s face said he’d taken Abner’s remark as an insult to his romantic abilities