Tina Leonard - Cowboy Sam's Quadruplets

“I expect Seton will give me her answer very soon. And then you’ll be the last one left, Jonas. The last bachelor at Rancho Diablo.”

Sam almost felt sorry for his eldest brother. Jonas wasn’t getting any younger—or smarter.

At least I know what I’m doing .

He had a plan, and he was sticking to it.

A week later, Sam decided Seton was the slowest woman ever when it came to accepting a marriage proposal. So he invited himself into her office and gave her his most winning grin, the one he reserved for sticky judges.

She glared at him. “No.”

Her reluctance surprised him. “Did you even consider it?”

Seton shook her head. Today her blond hair was twisted up on her head in a businesslike braid thing, and while he thought it looked good on her, he liked her hair best loose and straight. She wore a blue suit and a continual frown, so he relaxed in the chair and pondered his next angle.

“I didn’t consider your proposal,” Seton said. “I figured you’d be over it once the crazy wore off.”

“I never have crazy moments.” Sam crossed a boot over his knee and pressed his fingertips together. “My offer was based entirely on careful planning and sound logic. You need me and I need you.”

Her light brown brows winged together. “How do I need you?”

“Don’t you want to get married?” Sam couldn’t help doubting her happy-spinster stance.

“I’ve been married.” Seton got up and shoved some manila folders into a nearby filing cabinet. He admired her long legs and delicate feet, tucked into navy blue pumps, and the curve of her fanny under the knee-length skirt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his attention completely shot as he tore his gaze from Seton’s delectable rear view. “Did you say you’d been married?”

“Mmm.” She sat back down and stared at him, her eyes clear and matter-of-fact. “It’s not an experience I’m pining to repeat, to be honest.” She picked up a lone file folder on her desk, consulted it for a moment, then tapped for a few moments on the keys of her open laptop. “But after your business offer—”

“Proposal.”

She looked at him again. “One can’t really call that a proposal, Sam. It was all about business. Your business. The only thing you forgot was something for the other party. Negotiations tend to be short-lived when one party wants something and the other wants nothing.”

“I mentioned there would be financial compensation, Seton,” Sam said.

“Which sounds unethical.”

“Oh,” he said. “I see where you’re coming from.”

“I doubt it.” Her tone was cool as she returned her gaze to the computer screen. “But in the spirit of friendship, and I suppose we’ll have to have some kind of friendship since we’re both living in Diablo, I did a little searching for you.”

“I don’t need you to search out a wife for me,” Sam said, feeling crusty. “I’m not going to make my offer to just any woman. Thanks.”

“About your parents,” Seton said, shooting him a glare. “Forget about the marriage bit—that horse isn’t going to run. Let’s focus on the real problem you have, which is that you said you didn’t know who you are.”

He raised a hand. “I’m not in a hurry to find out.”

“It seemed like that was your big hang-up when you were in here the other day. Your real reason for wanting a wife. An anchor, if you will.”

Sam shrugged. “Wrong theory, Miss Marple. Anyway, you’re going out of order. I came here to talk about marriage. Not myself.”

“I’m not accepting your proposal.”

Well, wasn’t she just the most stubborn little thing? It was almost cute. There was something between them, even if she didn’t care to notice it. Sam supposed a woman didn’t decide to become a detective without some good ol’ ornery in her makeup. Seton was so no-nonsense she probably scared most men.

Sam liked a challenge, and the more pretzel-like the chase, the better. He figured he’d be a pretty poor lawyer if he didn’t crave a good knuckle-cracking challenge. He leaned his chin on his fingertips and tried to think where he was going wrong here. It was really important that Seton say yes. Marriage would solve everything for him. He wouldn’t be the last one on the range. What man wanted to cross the finish line last? He sure as hell didn’t. Jonas would be much better at being the family wallflower. Frankly, things were awkward now at family gatherings. There were all his brothers, their wives, their children—and him and Jonas. Like a date, or an old pair of doting uncles who couldn’t measure up to what a woman needed in life. He hated being Sam the Single Callahan.

Besides, he had a yen for Seton.

He sighed. “So what did you find, Snoopy?”

“Snoopy?”

“Did I ask you to snoop around in my life? I asked you to marry me, not go on a hunt for clues.” Sam couldn’t help the grieved tone in his voice. “I guess that would come with the territory, though.”

“What territory?” Seton shot him an annoyed glance of her own.

“Marrying a private investigator. You’d always be digging around, looking for stuff. Frankly, I don’t have that many fossils to unearth.” He spread his hands wide. “I’m a pretty simple guy, actually. I just want a companion. I want to get married so Fiona won’t fix me up.”

“She’s in Ireland.”

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that matters,” Sam said darkly. “Fiona would send over a mail-order bride if she could find one who could finesse me to the altar.”

“Maybe she should,” Seton said sweetly. “Since all you want is a name on a piece of paper.”

He looked at her. “All right. I get that you’re not impressed. But what would you do in my place? Just think about it for a moment.”

Seton shook her head. “Maybe this will help you. There are no records of your parents in Diablo. Not their births, obviously. But there are no records of their deaths.”

“Did I ask?” Sam snapped.

She narrowed her gaze on him. “If you don’t want to know what I found, I certainly won’t reveal it, Sam.”

“I’m not paying for it.” He leaned back again, noting that his gut was all churned up.

She shrugged. “I didn’t ask you for anything.”

This was true. He chafed at the reminder that only he seemed to want something. He admired her independence, even while it annoyed him. “I don’t appreciate you being nosy,” he said.

She turned off her computer. “I apologize.”

“You were trying to help me find myself,” Sam said, “but see, I don’t want to be found.”

She looked at him. Confronted with knowing that his past was a very empty one made him irritable. If there were no death records in this county, then his parents had died somewhere else. Fiona had never been clear on that. They’d always known they should have asked her, but Sam more than anyone didn’t want to know. Because once he asked, he was going to find out that his parents weren’t the same as his brothers’. There was no other reason for Jonas to remember that Sam had come “later”—after their parents had died.

He stood. “You’re right. We wouldn’t suit. I’m looking for a simplifier in my life. You wouldn’t be simple.”

She blinked. “Sam, I apologize for offending you. I just searched public records. It wasn’t like it took me more than five minutes to look through records that are open to anyone—”

He shoved his hat on his head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Thanks, though.”

He departed, and Seton thought she’d never seen Sam move so quickly. She sighed. It was going to be awkward now every time they ran into each other in town. He hadn’t wanted to know anything about his life—had run from learning anything at all.