Stacy Henrie - The Rancher's Temporary Engagement

“That would entail things like staying in the guest cottage rather than here inside my home.”

She nodded with impatience. “I can do that. Now I’d like to—”

“What about your wardrobe?”

Full annoyance sparked inside her. So she hadn’t factored in every detail; at least she’d come up with a plan. “What about it, darling?” she ground out.

The merest hint of amusement lit his gaze before he shuttered it. “You only came up with this scheme a moment ago—I doubt you packed with this role in mind. How up to snuff are your clothes?”

“They’re a bit out of style. But, again, I’m a detective, not a socialite.”

He stopped and stood in front of her. “A socialite is exactly what you must be, Maggy, if we are to pull this off.”

Fear began chewing at her frustration, riddling her thoughts with doubt. “I can show you what I have to wear to social functions.” While most of her dresses were simple in style and adornment, they would surely do. “I’ll get my trunk...”

She let her voice fade out when Edward slid his fingers around her wrist to stay her exit. Icy terror froze her for a moment, except for the painful, rapid beating of her heart.

“Unhand me,” she said in a firm whisper.

Edward blinked in obvious confusion, then glanced down at her hand. “My apologies.” He released her at once, restoring Maggy’s ability to breathe normally. His contrite expression was further proof he’d meant nothing by his gesture. “I only wished to detain you another minute.”

Gripping her hands together, to hide their trembling, she lifted her chin. “What more did you want to say?”

“I want to address this.”

Maggy eyed him, feeling puzzled. “Address what?”

“What just happened.” He motioned between them.

Fresh dread washed through her and she clasped her hands more tightly together. She would not divulge her past to him. “I don’t see how that’s important to your case.”

“I disagree.” His mouth and brow were both drawn downward. “As an engaged couple, we have to appear as if we share genuine affection for one another. But if you can’t abide my hand on yours...”

He wasn’t asking about her past. Maggy allowed a small breath of relief. “I can certainly feign affection.” Her tone came out far more self-confident than she actually felt. Surely she could play any role she needed to. She always had before. “Can you do the same?” she countered.

To her surprise, Edward didn’t rattle off a quick retort. Instead he lowered his head and shut his eyes in what appeared to be a silent prayer. A prick of guilt stung Maggy as she tried to remember the last time she’d prayed. Probably not since she’d been a girl. She shifted her stance, feeling uncomfortable and at a disadvantage. It wasn’t an emotion she enjoyed.

Edward opened his eyes and took a decisive step forward, which meant they were standing toe-to-toe. Maggy had a strange urge to ask him what he’d concluded. However, when he scooped up one of her hands in his, she had a guess what his answer had been.

“I believe I can act the part of a devoted fiancé.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “At least I shall try.”

The gentleness of his voice and the warmth of his fingers on hers inspired a renewal of her trepidation but also an unfamiliar and entirely unexpected sensation of safety. Could she play this role as thoroughly as Edward was implying they must?

“I... I need to change.” She pulled her hand free and fell back a step.

His brow creased again, but he didn’t attempt to stop her this time. “I’ll show you to the guest cottage then.”

Nodding, Maggy waited for him to lead the way. The hallway was empty, which meant his foreman had decided not to wait. Edward easily shouldered her trunk a second time and she trailed him out the front door. A stone’s throw away stood a stable and another small building. The guest house sported the same white clapboard as the main one and its own tiny porch.

Edward set her trunk down to open the door. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.” Maggy stepped inside. The single room was spacious and clean, and the window revealed a lovely view of the mountains.

He placed her luggage on the bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No.” She shook her head.

Slipping out the door, Edward paused. “How shall I introduce you to the rest of my staff?”

“While I’m here, I’ll be Maggy Worthwright.” She liked to keep her maiden name, which was the surname she went by since becoming a widow, to herself to preserve her anonymity and ability to be anyone she needed.

He nodded. “I’ll be at the main barn, when you’re ready to see the ranch.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Once he shut the door, Maggy sank down on the bed beside her trunk. What if she couldn’t effectively play the part of Edward’s fiancée? She hadn’t exactly thought through what that would mean. And she’d all but panicked when he grabbed her hand. Could she endure days, possibly weeks, of pretending to adore him in the company of others? As if she were young and in love...all over again?

Maggy shivered, despite the room’s pleasant temperature, and folded her arms tightly against her tea-soiled jacket. The thought of being under another man’s thumb made her stomach roil.

What did she know about love or being betrothed to someone? In the past, love had been a weapon used to hurt or a dangerous path leading to foolish choices and weakness. She’d vowed at Jeb’s funeral that she would never, ever allow herself to be tied to another man. Instead she would live alone—and free. Free of belittlement, hurt and pain.

You’re nothin’, Maggy. Just you remember that.

The deep-rooted, ugly words repeated in her mind and made it hard to breathe. She rubbed a hand along the fabric at her collarbone and sucked in several breaths.

“I am not nothing,” she fiercely told herself. “I am one of the best Pinkerton detectives out there.”

And that meant seeing this mission—this role—through completely. Maggy jumped to her feet and opened her trunk, fresh determination battling her fears. She could do this. The next few weeks would be worth the sacrifice, especially if her success here meant she secured the position as head female detective.

She removed her trousers and shirt from the trunk, eager to exchange her traveling dress for more comfortable clothing. After all, she was about to tour a working ranch. The feel of the loose material eased some of her trepidation. She tucked in her shirt, laced her shoes back up, and pulled her worn straw hat from its equally tattered box. Positioning the hat on her head, she eyed herself in the bureau mirror.

Did she look the part of Edward’s fiancée? Maggy frowned at her reflection, pulling her naturally pink lips downward. Whether she did or not, this was the part she would play. She’d navigated far more complicated roles in her six years as a detective. But as she exited the cottage, she couldn’t help a faint tremor of misgiving that this charade might prove to be her most challenging yet.

Chapter Four

“Uh, boss.” McCall tipped his head toward something outside the main barn doors. “Is that your...um...fiancée comin’ this way?”

Edward turned. He was actually looking forward to showing Maggy around the ranch and hoped her drooping spirits had been restored, now that she had a clean dress on. As he watched, the wranglers in the yard parted like the Red Sea, mouths agape in shock, as another...young man...strolled through their midst. Only this chap had auburn hair peeking out from beneath a straw hat and a womanly figure that was still obvious in spite of the loose-fitting clothes.

His eagerness faded. “Yes,” he managed to say with only slight weariness in his tone. “That would be Maggy.”