“I guess we’d better get married, then.”
At Zach’s words, Kristi Tanner dropped her mug. It shattered and splashed coffee across her kitchen floor, dousing the nearby cabinets in the pale, creamy drink.
All six feet two inches of Zach McCloud stooped in silence to scoop up the porcelain shards, but she couldn’t move as his words rang in her ears, over and over.
We’d better get married, then.
Get married, then.
Married.
As proposals went, that was the very worst one she’d ever heard. Of course, she’d heard only two in person. But this was nothing like a sweet, romantic scene from the movies.
From his knees, Zach stared up at her. “I guess that was a bit of a surprise.”
She gave him a curt nod.
“Sorry about that.” He threw the broken mug away, then shifted into the traditional proposal pose. She sucked in a quick gasp. Was he going to do it right this time?
But she didn’t know what right looked like.
When Aaron had asked her to marry him, he’d pulled a ring out of the front pocket of his work jeans and slipped it on her finger before she’d even known what was happening. That had been fine with her, since she’d been in love with Aaron Tanner since he shared his pudding cup with her in the second grade.
But he was never going to share his dessert with her again.
Tears burned her eyes, and she tried to wipe them away. No matter how similar their hazel-green eyes and cleft chins—genetic traits the cousins shared—the man kneeling before her wasn’t Aaron.
“Why exactly do you think we should get married?”
Zach rubbed at his bald head, the superclose shave most likely masking the McCloud men’s tendency toward early hair loss. “Guess I sort of jumped ahead there.”
“You think?” She couldn’t help the snark that laced her words. It wasn’t pointed at him precisely. It wasn’t pointed anywhere actually.
Maybe a little at Aaron.
Definitely kind of at Aaron.
He’d promised they’d grow old together working the ranch they both loved.
Then he’d gone and walked in on a robbery in progress. He’d tried to protect the pregnant clerk behind the gas station counter. And he’d been shot three times in the chest.
How dare he leave her to raise their five-year-old son, Cody, all by herself?
“As I see it, you can’t stay in Montana,” he said, his voice low, laced with pain that was entirely too familiar.
Aaron hadn’t just been Zach’s cousin. He’d been his best friend, too.
He snagged a towel from the counter and mopped up the coffee streaks down the cabinets before wiping at the puddle on the floor. “Not with Cody’s condition.”
That was a placid euphemism for the sinister heart defect that had been slowly stealing her son’s life, breath by breath.
“He needs to be near the best doctors when he reaches the top of the transplant list. And you need support...and insurance.” The flecks of brown in his green eyes seemed to glow as he leaned forward. “You’re all alone out here.”
Like she needed the reminder. Their nearest neighbor was more than a dozen miles away. The nearest hospital was more than fifty miles. Aaron’s parents—Zach’s aunt and uncle—had moved into town when she and Aaron took over the ranch.
And the ranch hands spent their time mending fences and minding the herd. They weren’t around the house, if she ever needed them.
But why would she need them? She’d grown up on a ranch—albeit a much smaller spread. Still, she could stitch up a cut, round up a stray and fix a broken tractor.
If something happened to her, she’d get through.
But now that something had happened to Cody, well, she’d go crazy if she couldn’t get him to help fast enough.
On paper, Zach’s solution made sense. But in reality...could she really do this? Could she marry Zach McCloud?
* * *
Zach stared up into the deepest
