Peggy Moreland - An Arranged Marriage

CLUB TIMES

For Members’ Eyes Only

Bachelor Beware!

There must be something in the water to cause all these pregnancies and marriages in Mission Creek. I’ve done some initial testing in my love laboratory, but results are inconclusive. Oh, I’m pulling your leg, members. I’m no scientist, but I have put three of the LSCC’s cleaning ladies on “Wedding Ring Watch” to smoke out the bachelors. By the way, Clay Martin, we’re giving you a head start! Some lucky gal’s gonna lasso you sooner or later!

Isn’t Daisy Parker doing a swell job serving you all? Why, it seems only months ago we had a time of it understanding her Texas twang, and now she’s like family. Last thing, Daisy, we’d like to recommend Rosie’s hair salon near the edge of town. They do a great dye job on some of the local ladies, so you don’t have to worry so much about your roots.

I won’t name names, but the rascally daughter of Ford Carson was found in someone’s back seat the other night. An LSCC gardener was watering the rosebushes when he heard some giggling in the north parking lot. He’s been sworn to secrecy about the identity of the lady in question, but c’mon, we all know who it was….

As always, members, make your best stop of the day right here at the Lone Star Country Club!

About the Author

PEGGY MORELAND

published her first romance with Silhouette in 1989 and continues to delight readers with stories set in her home state of Texas. Peggy is the winner of a National Readers’ Choice Award, a nominee for the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award and a two-time finalist for the prestigious RITA ®Award. Her books frequently appear on the USA TODAY and Waldenbooks bestseller lists.

Though Peggy has written over thirty books for Silhouette, An Arranged Marriage is her first experience in coordinating her efforts with such a large number of talented authors. She found the process both intriguing and challenging, and enjoyed researching the duties of the Texas Rangers organization.

When not writing, Peggy can usually be found out on her ranch, tending the cattle, goats and other critters she and her husband raise. You may write to Peggy at P.O. Box 1099, Florence, TX 76527-1099, or e-mail her at peggy@peggymoreland.com.

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Welcome to the

Where Texas society reigns supreme—and appearances are everything.

They came from very different worlds…but had more in common than they ever imagined.

Clay Martin: He’s the only man in Mission Creek who can rein in a bratty little princess. So when the great Carson patriarch makes him an offer he can’t refuse…an offer involving money, marriage and a beautiful future wife…Clay is definitely up for the challenge.

Fiona Carson: She’s spent her entire life getting what she wants, especially from her daddy. And although men have always fallen at her feet, her “husband” is not so easily swayed. Could it be that the spoiled heiress has met her match—and fallen head over heels in love?

Tyler Murdoch: A mercenary on a dangerous mission, he’s been sent into the jungles of Central America and must rely solely on his skills and courage to keep him safe. But will he also be able to protect the gorgeous Hispanic interpreter who’s been sent to assist him, and who has become a major distraction?

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Mission Creek, Texas, was no booming metropolis by any stretch of the imagination. Tucked between Corpus Christi and Laredo, its origins dated back more than a hundred years, when it was nothing more than a trading post for the ranches surrounding it. In spite of its modest size and humble beginnings, the town was filled with enough crime, corruption and scandal to keep the scriptwriters for Law & Order in new material for years. Perhaps even enough to justify the filming of a Godfather IV, since the mob was involved in the majority of the shady goings-on around town.

Most of the dramas played out at the Lone Star Country Club, a two-thousand acre spread situated on land donated by the Carsons and the Wainwrights, two of the area’s earliest families to settle here. Oddly enough, the donation of the land might well have been the families’ last friendly venture, since the Carsons and the Wainwrights had been locked in a feud that stretched as far back as most folks’ memories.

The recent marriage of Matt Carson and Rose Wainwright hadn’t ended the feud or lessened the hatred, but it had served as a momentary distraction from a six-month-old mystery—or scandal depending on the results of paternity tests a certain golfing foursome was undergoing. Or at least three of them were. The fourth, Luke Callaghan, absent from that particular morning’s round of golf, was currently in a military hospital in Central America, recovering from injuries he’d received while trying to rescue his former military commander from terrorists, and was unaware that he’d been targeted for a paternity test.

A baby left on the ninth tee of the golf course for the father to find was shocking news even for a Peyton Place like Mission Creek. The note attached to the infant, with the only decipherable words being “this is your baby girl,” had everyone in town laying bets as to which one of the golfing foursome had sired the abandoned child and clucking their tongues over the unidentified mother’s lack of maternal instincts.

Murder? Corruption? An abandoned baby?

This wasn’t the Mission Creek Clay Martin remembered from his youth, and it certainly wasn’t the peaceful environment he’d sought when, disillusioned with life, he’d ended his military career early, accepted a job as a Texas Ranger and made the long trek back to Texas. But changed or not, Mission Creek was home, and Clay was determined to do his part in bringing law and order back to the town.

At the moment, though, he was officially off duty and nursing a beer at the bar in the Lone Star Country Club’s Men’s Grill. The building itself was a temporary structure built to replace the original Men’s Grill destroyed by a bomb several months prior. In spite of its stopgap status, the bar still managed to reflect the discriminating tastes of the club’s wealthy members.