Stacy Henrie - The Rancher's Temporary Engagement

She’d berated him earlier for not keeping up the charade well enough and here she was dressed like a man. He frowned, his forehead pinching with the effort. Perhaps their plan was destined to fail from the start.

Belatedly he remembered his foreman. “Probably didn’t want to ruin one of her dresses as I show her around,” he explained with false cheer. He walked out of the barn to greet her, doing his best not to clench his hands into fists at his sides.

“Hello, darling,” she called as she approached. “I’m ready for my tour.”

He managed a tight smile as he gently gripped her elbow and steered her away from the wide-eyed looks of his staff. “A moment in private first, dearest.”

“All right.” She glanced up at him, her expression one of cautious confusion.

Edward led her toward the nearest pasture so they wouldn’t be overheard. When they reached the fence, he released her, keeping his back to his wranglers and foreman. “What exactly are you wearing?”

Maggy looked down at her clothes as if she’d forgotten what she’d put on. His staff certainly wouldn’t forget any time soon. “A shirt and pants?”

“Precisely.” He shot her an impatient look. Was she truly unaware of the stir she’d caused or her breach of propriety in dressing in such a fashion?

She folded her arms and her countenance hardened. He may have only known her for a few hours, but Edward could easily identify when her dander was up. “And what is so abhorrent about my clothes?”

“Nothing,” he said with a module of patience, “if you intend to lasso one of my horses or muck a stall. However, if you plan to parade around town as my fiancée, then I’d ask you to please not do so looking like a man.”

Her pink lips parted as if she were about to throw out a rejoinder. Then she obviously thought better of it and shut her mouth. She glanced back the way they’d come, a never-before-seen look of consternation settling onto her pretty face. “You’re right. It’s just that these clothes...” Her blue eyes flashed with momentary vulnerability before she lifted her chin. “It won’t happen again. I will endeavor to act and look as a proper society fiancée should.”

“Thank you.” But he felt less victorious than he’d expected. While clothes and appearances were critical to playing their respective roles, he had a hunch that Maggy felt most comfortable, most like herself, in the clothes she wore at this moment. He felt a pang of remorse at the thought of taking that comfort away from her.

Pushing out a sigh, she faced away from him. “I’ll go change.”

“No need just yet,” he said. “I already told McCall that you’d chosen your outfit for the express purpose of not soiling one of your gowns during your tour of the ranch.”

A small smile appeared at her mouth. “That was rather quick scheming on your part.”

“A first, I’ll admit.” Edward chuckled. “But I’ve had a rather effective albeit persistent teacher today.”

Was it his imagination or did she blush? Before Edward could decide, Maggy took a step forward. “Let’s see this ranch of yours.”

“Maggy.” He waited for her to turn around, then he offered her his arm. “I’m supposed to be showing my betrothed around the ranch.”

She hesitated, her gaze riveted on his sleeve. “Right, of course.” Determination etched her features as she strode back to his side and linked her arm through his. He could feel the tension radiating through her fingers, though.

He placed his hand over hers, hoping it would be reassuring this time. “Ahead of us is the main barn. Shall we start in there?”

“Yes.”

He was relieved to see a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, which meant that right now she found his touch more comforting than jarring. And for some reason that felt as much a victory to him as anything else today.

* * *

By the time he’d finished showing Maggy around the ranch and introduced her as his fiancée to every member of his staff, Edward was wound tighter than a lasso inside. She hadn’t said much, though she didn’t look bored, either. There had been a succession of nods, a few questions and plenty of bright smiles for the wranglers. But what did she think of the Running W?

It surprised him that he cared about her opinion of the ranch, unlike the last time he’d shown a Pinkerton detective around the place. That had been all business. This time, however, Edward had a peculiar desire to impress Maggy. Which made little sense. It wasn’t as if they were really engaged.

After watching her rub the nose of his horse, he worked up the courage to finally ask her estimation. “Well? What do you think of the place?” He feigned disinterest in her answer as they exited the stable.

“It’s beautiful, Edward.” She stopped walking and removed her straw hat, giving him a full view of her face. “Very impressive what you’ve managed to do in five years.”

Was she being truthful? He hoped so. “I am proud of it.”

“As you should be.” She offered him a brief smile. “And we need to ensure that it remains as it is.”

“Yes, of course.” The reminder of why she was really here sobered him and returned his thoughts to the necessary success of their temporary engagement. “I believe my staff is quite taken by you.”

Her eyebrows arched in a look of haughty amusement. “Even in my unladylike attire?”

“Even then,” he replied with a deadpan expression.

Rolling her eyes, Maggy started for the house. “I’m glad to hear it. And now I’m ready for that supper you promised.”

“One moment.” He caught up to her near the porch. “Around here we dress for supper.”

She shook her head. “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“We... I...change for supper.” He motioned to his dust-speckled trousers and shirt. It wasn’t necessary to be more formal for the dinner table—particularly when he usually dined alone—but it was a throwback to his growing-up years in England. Truth be told, he rather liked putting on a fresh pair of clothes after a hard day’s work, then sitting down to a delicious meal.

“Change into what?” Her arms were tightly folded again.

Edward cleared his throat. “I’ll put on a suit as I would if we were going to the Sheridan Inn for dinner. And you...well...you can dress in one of those gowns you said you owned.”

“This is a nightly ritual?”

He nodded.

For a moment, her eyes fell shut as if she were summoning patience from deep inside herself. “All right,” she said, opening her eyes. “I shall dress for dinner, darling.”

“Excellent, my dear.”

Spinning on her heel, Maggy marched toward the guest house, her straw hat smacking her pant leg. “But I am not rearranging my hair,” she called back loudly.

Edward chuckled as he headed inside. His good humor continued as he changed into a fresh shirt, trousers, tie, vest and jacket. Normally he looked forward to the quiet that came with taking his meals by himself. Mrs. Harvey ate when she wanted, and McCall felt it important to eat the meals she prepared for the outside staff with the wranglers. Which meant Edward ate alone more often than not. Tonight, though, he found himself looking forward to dining with Maggy. She might be stubborn and far from demure, but he supposed he could see why those qualities were important in a detective, especially a female one.

Had he really almost sent her away hours earlier? He was grateful now that he hadn’t. Did the Lord have a hand in that? Edward wondered as he headed back downstairs. He entered the dining room to find it empty. Should he wait for Maggy by the front door then, or take a seat?

As he was debating what to do, he heard the door swing open and shut, then the clack of heels across the entryway floor. He moved to the doorway of the dining room to meet her. She gripped her trailing skirt with one hand as she approached.