Wanted: Convenient Wife
When preacher Hugh Arness advertises for a marriage of convenience, the single father’s not expecting Annie Marshall to apply. She’s too vivacious—and far too pretty. Yet Annie connects with his withdrawn young son, Evan, and he agrees to a trial period—which her grandfather will chaperone—until Christmas. By then he’ll have found a candidate who doesn’t make him long for more than he feels worthy of...
Security and her own home...Annie wants both, without the heartache love brings. Soon she’s earning little Evan’s trust, eager to show his papa that their partnership can work. She knows that Hugh needs tenderness, too. And maybe this Christmas could mark the end of their practical arrangement...and the start of a true union and real family.
“I’m here in response to your ad. I’ll take care of Evan and your house. By the end of four weeks you’ll see you couldn’t do better.”
“But you could do better.” That’s what had Hugh so confused. “Better than a man eight years your senior with a four-year-old boy who might never get over the way he’s been treated.”
Annie’s eyebrows arched as if surprised by his statement.
He hurried on. “You’re young. You’re beautiful.”
She blinked rapidly and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Did she not believe him on the latter observation?
“I’d like to know why you are so set on such an arrangement.” He meant the marriage she so stubbornly sought. And why was he resisting her offer so vehemently? Because of the very things he’d told her. She deserved better than an older man with a troubled child.
All he wanted was to be enough for his son and for that he needed a helpmate. One who wouldn’t regret her choice and perhaps run off with someone younger and more suitable as soon she discovered she could do better and he had no doubt Annie would soon discover that.
Dear Reader,
I had such fun writing Annie and Hugh’s story. I loved bringing these two reluctant, wary people together. They were a perfect match for each other even if they were the last people to discover it. Annie is such a loving, giving person. Watching her make Christmas special for her new family made me realize yet again how much I enjoy Christmas—not necessarily the gifts but the special things we do to create long-lasting memories. I hope you find joy in the season. God’s gift to us is the reason for the season and the source of real joy. May His love and presence bless you.
You can learn more about my upcoming books and how to contact me at www.lindaford.org. I love to hear from my readers.
Blessings,
Linda Ford
LINDA FORD lives on a ranch in Alberta, Canada, near enough to the Rocky Mountains that she can enjoy them on a daily basis. She and her husband raised fourteen children—four homemade, ten adopted. She currently shares her home and life with her husband, a grown son, a live-in paraplegic client and a continual (and welcome) stream of kids, kids-in-law, grandkids, and assorted friends and relatives.
Montana Bride by Christmas
Linda Ford
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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We love him, because he first loved us.
—1 John 4:19
Dedicated to the reason for the season:
For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father,
The Prince of Peace.
—Isaiah 9:6
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
Dear Reader
About the Author
Title Page
Bible Verse
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Extract
Copyright
Chapter One
Bella Creek, Montana, winter 1890
Annie Marshall shook the sheet of paper. “Mr. Arness—I’m sorry, Preacher Arness—I’m here to apply for this position.”
Hugh Arness did his best to deliver God’s word every Sunday, and on numerous occasions between Sundays he faithfully helped those in need. At the moment he was the one in need of help but Annie Marshall was not the person to fill that need. “How old are you, Miss Marshall?”
“I’m nineteen but I’ve been looking after my brothers, my father, my grandfather and until recently, my niece since I was fourteen. I think I can manage to look after one four-year-old boy.”
That might be so and he would have agreed in any other case but this four-year-old was his son Evan, and Annie Marshall simply did not suit. She was too young. Too idealistic. Too fond of fun.
She flipped the paper back and forth, her eyes narrowed as if she meant to call him to task. He’d seen her reaction to things before. A little fireball was not what Evan needed. He’d also witnessed her riding about with her friend Carly Morrison. They were a wild pair who seemed to think they could do as they pleased.
“Are you going back on your word?” she insisted, edging closer.
Hugh was grateful for the wide desk between them. He glanced out the window. Her grandfather, Allan Marshall, whom most people called Grandfather Marshall, sat in the wagon waiting for Annie to complete her business. Poor man must be cold out there but he was too crippled to get down by himself and seek shelter indoors.
Hugh turned back to the girl opposite him. “I’ve not given my word to anything.” He meant to point out leaving her grandfather outside in the winter wind did little to prove she was as capable as she wanted him to believe but before he could, she read aloud the words he’d so carefully penned.
“‘Widower with four-year-old son seeking a marriage of convenience. Prefer someone older with no expectations of romance.
I’m kind and trustworthy.
My son needs lots of patience and affection.
Interested parties please see Preacher Arness at the church.’”
“I’m applying,” Annie said with conviction and challenge.
“You’re too young and...” He couldn’t think how to voice his objections without sounding unkind, and having just stated the opposite in his little ad, he chose to say nothing.
Her eyes—blue eyes like her three brothers—narrowed. She had blond hair like her brothers too. And she was tall like them, but completely feminine. He pushed aside that foolish thought. He didn’t need or want anyone that made him aware of such things. No sir. At twenty-seven, he was admittedly jaded but he wanted nothing to do with romance and love. His wife leaving him had taught him the foolishness of expecting such stuff.
“Are you saying I’m unsuitable?” She spoke with all the authority one might expect from a Marshall...but not from a woman trying to convince him to let her take care of his son.
He met her challenging look with calm indifference. Unless she meant to call on her three brothers and her father and grandfather to support her cause, he had nothing to fear from her. To answer her question, yes. Had he not seen her and her friend racing through the streets, seemingly unmindful of those in the way? Hadn’t he heard her father complain that she left them to fend for themselves on many a Sunday? No. He needed someone less likely to chase after excitement and adventure. She’d certainly find none here as the preacher’s wife.
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