The Rancher’s Inconvenient Bride. Carol Arens

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The Rancher’s Inconvenient Bride - Carol Arens

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shoulder. “Don’t you worry. The mayor will find us someone by then. For now, I say we all enjoy the circus tonight. Forget about that saloon for a while.”

      “I second that,” added the blacksmith. “No need to worry now when it might turn out to be a fine establishment. It’s hard to imagine the Bascomb Hotel turning tawdry.”

      The owner of the livery, sitting on the right side of William, stood up. “I third that notion and declare this meeting over. See you all at the circus.”

      William had lost count of the times he half regretted accepting the position of mayor of Tanners Ridge, but he had to begin his public service somewhere. He’d hoped to get his start as an appointee to the Territorial Legislature of Wyoming, but it hadn’t happened.

      The men who made legislative appointments had voted him down because he was not a married man. In their opinion, married men were more stable of character. In William’s opinion, it was their wives wanting other women to socialize with, hold balls and galas and the like.

      The loss had been a great disappointment. Especially since he had planned to be married. He’d made an arrangement with Ivy Magee. His money to save the Lucky Clover from ruin in exchange for her hand in marriage. The union would have given him the prestige that the highly respected Lucky Clover had to offer.

      In the end she’d turned him down and married Travis Murphy instead.

      She was right to have done so. For all that she would have suited his needs, she was a woman who deserved being loved. And Travis loved her to his bones.

      The problem with having befriended Ivy was that it complicated his bride hunt. Eligible ladies who would suit his needs in every way threw themselves in his path daily.

      An availability of suitable woman was not the trouble.

      The trouble was knowing how Ivy loved her man. Having seen it with his own eyes, well—he wanted that now. Or at least something close to it.

      He wanted a woman who sparkled for him. But he also wanted to be governor one day. For that he would need a wife and, God willing, children.

      Little girls to bounce upon his knee and little boys to play ball with. He wanted them, governorship or not.

      “I’d have voted for your man, Mayor English.” William gazed down into the face of a pretty young woman who smiled up at him with a winking dimple. “May I call you William?”

      One day he hoped to be as lucky as Travis Murphy.

      Gazing down at the woman preening beside him, he doubted it would be today.

      * * *

      Agatha reread the first three lines of the book on her lap, unable to concentrate. Here in camp, all was peaceful, although the wind swayed the trailer like a cradle.

      Everything added up for a cozy evening in the company of fictional characters whom she knew quite well, having read the book four times already.

      But just there, beyond the solitude of the nearly abandoned camp, she could hear a crowd of voices raised in merriment.

      A part of her longed to be out there, laughing and enjoying the thrills. But the nightly customers were loud and lively—there were just so many people.

      She ought to force herself to go out, she knew that, but the adventures of Miss Maudie O’Hurley would do for tonight. Indeed, the beleaguered Maudie was about to be carried off by her true love. What could be more thrilling than that?

      Being carried off by her own true love, of course.

      “You aren’t going to meet him sitting here,” she mumbled.

      Still, it was windy outside.

      “What if the man of your dreams is visiting the circus at this moment?”

      What if the man of her dreams was walking about out there with his dark hair glinting in the torchlight that illuminated the shadowed paths? What if his blue eyes...she’d long known them to be the color of the sky just before sunrise...were sparkling with pleasure at all he was seeing?

      What if William was here and she missed him because she was sitting in her safe chair reliving Maudie’s happiness...once again.

      Now there was a silly thought. William here? If she was going to indulge in daydreams she might just as soon dwell on something that really happened.

      She could at the very least relive the time that William had danced with her at a party hosted at the Lucky Clover. He had only asked her to dance because she was Ivy’s sister, she was certain, but nonetheless it had been magical—the stuff of her dreams.

      At the time she hadn’t even had strength enough to stand on her own so that handsome man—that prince—had taken her hand, lifted her with an arm around her back and supported her through a very brief dance.

      Nothing that Maudie O’Hurely had experienced came close to that!

      Agatha snapped the book closed then crossed the small space to stare out the window. Moonlight cast shadows of tree branches on the roof of the trailer across from hers. They looked like malevolent fingers all twisted and spooky.

      “Idiot,” she murmured. “They are shadows and you need to go out.”

      Not to find her prince, but to find her strength. The very last thing she needed at the moment was to find a royal protector—or the Wyoming equivalent.

      One day that would be a fine thing. Loving a man and having him watch over her, while she in turn watched over him.

      At the moment, finding that companion was the very last thing she needed to do. If she fell into a life of being protected, it might be akin to seeking relief in a small blue bottle of laudanum. She would gain strength by standing on her own two feet and no other way.

      Plucking her wrap from its hook on the wall, she tugged it tight about her. If she was to become a woman whom men would respect, she had to be a woman that she respected first.

      Surely she could be as brave as Ivy’s pet mouse. That sweet creature ventured out nightly.

      The moment she stepped outside a small shaggy dog met her at the bottom of the steps.

      “Where were you at feeding time, Miss Valentine?” A short time ago the dog had been star of the show, well-groomed and pampered. Now that she was beginning to show her age she’d been cast off, left to fend for herself or die.

      As far as Agatha could tell, no one cared about her fate one way or another. It was the same for the other mutts Agatha fed with the scraps left over from dinner.

      “Come along. We’ll stop by the chuck wagon and see what’s left.”

      Valentine wagged her curly tail and limped along after Agatha. The poor creature hadn’t been limping yesterday. Perhaps that was why she didn’t show up with the other dogs to be fed.

      Bending low, she scooped Valentine up. “It’s a crime how they tossed you out. Why, if you were earning them money I reckon they would have the veterinarian look at your foot right off.”

      The

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