Elizabeth August - The Rancher's Hand-Picked Bride

Parking in front of the ranch house, she saw the elderly, pure-blooded Apache, small, bent and looking withered with age, sitting in a rocking chair on the porch. As Gwen left the car and mounted the short flight of steps, Morning Hawk rose to greet her.

“I have a quest for you,” the woman said without any preamble.

Gwen felt as if she’d stepped back in time about a hundred years. “A quest?”

Morning Hawk motioned for Gwen to follow her into the house. It was a large, well-maintained home, furnished comfortably. More upscale than most ranch houses, but then the Logans could afford it. Oil had been struck on their land several years earlier. But in spite of the enormous added income the find had produced, it was still a working ranch. Jess’s father had died years earlier. His two brothers had followed in their father’s footsteps and become Texas Rangers. Jess had been the one who had stayed home to run the ranch for his mother. Gwen hoped he was out on the range and would stay there until she was gone.

“Come along.” Morning Hawk took her by the arm and guided her down a hallway. Stopping in front of a closed door, Morning Hawk knocked sharply, then opened the door and, with Gwen still in tow, entered.

Seated at the desk in the study punching buttons on a computer keyboard was Jess Logan. Half-Apache, his Native American heritage was strong in his rugged features. His muscular build and callused hands gave evidence that a great deal of his time was spent in manual labor. Gwen had to fight down the urge to turn and run. Silently she cursed herself. In spite of all the effort she’d put into trying to rid herself of this effect he had on her, it was as strong as ever.

Jess frowned at his great-grandmother. “You said you had someone coming this morning it was important I meet with.”

His tone told Gwen she didn’t fall into that category. Well, he wasn’t on her list of people she wanted to see either.

“Remember your manners,” Morning Hawk admonished. She motioned for the two of them to be seated as she seated herself.

Neither obeyed.

“I don’t believe there is anything Miss Murphy and I have to discuss.” Jess headed to the door, adding over his shoulder, “I’ve got work to do.”

“Jess Logan, you will sit down,” Morning Hawk commanded. “And listen to what I have to say.”

Outwardly, Gwen kept her expression blank. Inwardly, she couldn’t help but smile at the way this order from such a tiny old shriveled woman stopped the mountain of a cowboy in his tracks.

“All right, I’ll give you five minutes,” he grumbled, taking his seat behind the desk.

Her curiosity overcoming her discomfort in Jess’s presence, Gwen seated herself without protest. Morning Hawk knew of the animosity between Gwen and her grandson. Everyone did. They just didn’t know why it existed. Even Jess, Gwen knew, had been stunned by the intensity with which she’d rejected his offer of friendship. But Gwen wasn’t willing to reveal to anyone how much she feared the very womanly sensations his presence evoked. She didn’t even like admitting them to herself. In the end, people, Jess included, had decided that it was one of those chemistry things—like oil and water or opposite poles of a magnet that repelled each other. So why would the elderly Apache insist on having the two of them in the same room together?

Morning Hawk turned her full attention to Gwen. “I understand you run a very personalized investigative service. You are hired by people who aren’t certain they can trust the man or woman they are dating and want to know the whole truth about them?”

Her intonation made her words a question and Gwen elaborated on the service she provided. “In today’s world, people move around a great deal. That makes it easy for a person to change their past to suit their present needs. And then there’s the Internet. Someone from New York might meet a person from Alaska online and begin a long-distance romance, but how does either one know the other is telling the truth? They don’t. So one or the other hires me to find out.”

Morning Hawk nodded approvingly as if to say what she had just been told was what she had wanted to hear. “So in a way you are a matchmaker.”

“More of a match breaker, usually,” Gwen corrected. “You would be amazed by the lies people will tell to deceive others.”

“No. No, I would not. And that brings me to the reason I arranged this meeting.” Morning Hawk turned her attention to Jess. “It is time you took a wife.”

Jess shook his head. “I knew you were up to something when you started humming as soon as Mom and Grandma left for California to visit Uncle Crow. I’ll get married when I’m good and ready. And right now, I’m just not ready to take that step.”

“You’re twenty-nine, that’s old enough to be good and ready,” Morning Hawk returned.

Jess frowned. “Why this sudden interest in my marital status? Both of my brothers were older than I am now when they got married.”

“I’m getting on in years. I want to see you happily settled before I pass on.” Morning Hawk returned her attention to Gwen. “And that’s where you come in. I want you to find him a wife.”

Gwen’s eyes rounded in shock while her stomach knotted tightly. “You want me to find him a wife?”

Jess’s frown darkened until it reminded Gwen of thunderclouds gathering the sky. “I’ll find my own wife.”

“You’re too busy running this ranch for your mother and overseeing the family’s oil interests. And,” Morning Hawk added sharply, “I didn’t care at all for that last floozy you were seeing. She made me question your taste or, at least, the places where you meet women.”

“Floozy?” Jess questioned pointedly. “Are you talking about Jeanette Harrison, our neighbor’s daughter? She speaks four languages. She’s traveled all over the world and she has a personal fortune of her own. I don’t believe floozy is a fair description.”

“Well, she’d never be happy living here. That socialite mother of hers has made certain that no Texas dust settled on her daughter. You need a woman who will love this land and this kind of life as much as you do.”

Jess’s gaze leveled on his great-grandmother. “I will choose the kind of woman I want to marry.”

Morning Hawk stared back at him. “I can be just as hardheaded as you.”

“More,” he muttered under his breath.

“This is important to me. I rarely ask you to do something for me, but I’m asking now. Let Gwen find three women who fit both your criteria and mine. Take them out. Get to know them. If none of them appeals to you, I will feel that I have, at least, done my best.”

For a long moment Jess made no response. Then in an easy drawl, he said, “I want your word that if I do this, you will never interfere in my private life again.”

“You have my word.”

Gwen had watched from the sidelines with dry amusement. She knew Morning Hawk’s reputation for getting what she wanted, but she also knew how stubborn Jess could be and had no doubt he would win out. Suddenly realizing that he was conceding to his great-grandmother’s wishes, her amusement vanished. “Now, wait. Wait just one minute,” she blurted. “Finding a wife is a lot more difficult than investigating someone. I really don’t think I’m the person for this job.”

Morning Hawk smiled at her. “Of course you are. I trust you. You’re a good, decent person and I know you will do an excellent job.”

Jess smiled cynically. “What Gwen means is that she doesn’t think she can find a woman who’d put up with me.”

Morning Hawk’s gaze swung back to him. “Considering the way you behave sometimes, I can’t blame her. But I know you better than she does. You’ll make a fine husband…provided she finds a woman who knows how to handle you.”