Rosemary Carter - Cowboy To The Altar

“No woman will ever hurt me again. No woman, Morgan.” “No woman will ever hurt me again. No woman, Morgan.” If Morgan were sensible, she would leave things at that.... But Morgan, it appeared, was not sensible. “Not all women are alike,” she said softly. “One bad experience and you’re turned off all women?” “Not in the way you seem to think, Morgan Muir. I like women. I like the feel of a woman in my arms, a woman’s soft body against mine. But I don’t want a woman in my life. Ever again.” “You’re a stubborn man, Jason.... You’ve decided that all women are like your ex-wife.” “Prove to me that they’re not,” he challenged. “I’ll prove it.” “How?” He was intrigued. “In the only way I know.” And then, giving him no time to react, Morgan closed the distance between them. Jason was still seated as she leaned over him and put her lips against his. About the Author Rosemary Carter was born in South Africa, but has lived in Canada for many years with her husband and her three children. Although her home is on the Prairies, not far from the beautiful Rockies, she still retains her love of the South African bushveld, which is why she likes to set her stories there. Both Rosemary and her husband enjoy concerts, theater, opera and hiking in the mountains. Reading was always her passion, and led to her first attempts at writing stories herself. Title Page Cowboy to the Altar Rosemary Carter www.millsandboon.co.uk CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE Copyright

“No woman will ever hurt me again. No woman, Morgan.”

If Morgan were sensible, she would leave things at that....

But Morgan, it appeared, was not sensible. “Not all women are alike,” she said softly. “One bad experience and you’re turned off all women?”

“Not in the way you seem to think, Morgan Muir. I like women. I like the feel of a woman in my arms, a woman’s soft body against mine. But I don’t want a woman in my life. Ever again.”

“You’re a stubborn man, Jason.... You’ve decided that all women are like your ex-wife.”

“Prove to me that they’re not,” he challenged.

“I’ll prove it.”

“How?” He was intrigued.

“In the only way I know.”

And then, giving him no time to react, Morgan closed the distance between them. Jason was still seated as she leaned over him and put her lips against his.

Rosemary Carter was born in South Africa, but has lived in Canada for many years with her husband and her three children. Although her home is on the Prairies, not far from the beautiful Rockies, she still retains her love of the South African bushveld, which is why she likes to set her stories there. Both Rosemary and her husband enjoy concerts, theater, opera and hiking in the mountains. Reading was always her passion, and led to her first attempts at writing stories herself.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

‘WHO on earth can that be?’

Jason Delaney pushed back the broad brim of his stetson hat, his dark eyes narrowing at the sight of the vehicle that was approaching the ranch-house. The road was used mainly by pick-up trucks—a small car, like the one now coming through the trees, was a rarity.

The dog, following close on the heels of the broad-shouldered man, gave a token growl. Aging though Scot might be, he was not so old that he had forgotten that the ranch was his territory. Jason looked down at the big dog, who had once had no equal when it had come to working with cattle, and for a moment his eyes were troubled.

But this was not the time to think about the dog for the car was just stopping in front of the house. The driver’s door opened, and a girl emerged.

A girl! Jason stiffened. It was a while since a female had been at the ranch.

The big dog growled and moved towards the girl.

‘Scot!’ Jason called a stern warning. ‘Back, Scot.’

To his surprise, the girl said, ‘Oh, that’s OK, I’m not frightened.’ And, bending towards the dog, she said, ‘Aren’t you lovely?’ She stroked Scot between the ears, and the dog quietened in seconds.

The girl straightened. As she came towards him something tightened inside Jason. She was so light, so graceful—her movements made him think of a dancer.

‘Hi, there,’ she said with an enchanting smile.

‘Hi,’ he returned, looking down—quite a long way down—into the prettiest face he had ever seen.

Her hair was the colour of ripe corn, her eyes as blue as the Texas sky on a cloudless day. Her waist was so tiny that a man could circle it easily with his hands, and then have some space to spare. Through a cream shirt, tucked neatly into beautifully cut matching pants, a pair of small breasts hinted at promise and perfection.

After a long moment Jason said, ‘Wasn’t expecting company. Guess you’re lost. Tell me where you’re headed, and I’ll give you directions.’

She had to tilt her head in order to look at him. ‘Lost? I don’t believe so. This is Six-Gate Corral, isn’t it? I saw the name on the gate as I turned in.’

‘Right—this is Six-Gate Corral.’

‘Good! Then I’ve come to the right place. And I’m not company, exactly. I’m Morgan Muir.’

The way she said it was as if she expected him to know who she was. But the name meant nothing to him. Jason looked at her, puzzled.

‘Morgan Muir,’ she repeated. ‘The new cook.’

‘You have to be kidding!’ The words exploded from his lips.

‘Why would I do that? Look, Mr...’ She stopped.

‘Delaney. Jason Delaney.’

‘Jason Delaney?’ She looked amazed. ‘Owner of Six-Gate Corral?’

Jason nodded curtly. ‘Owner, that’s right.’ His eyes were suddenly hard. ‘I’m a busy man, Miss Muir. I don’t have time for games.’

‘Neither do I.’ For the first time she looked angry. ‘Look, I’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve your hostility.’

‘OK, then, suppose you tell me why you’re really here.’

‘I did—I’m the new cook.’

‘The hell you are!’

Her eyes sparkled as her hands curled into fists. Five and a half feet of challenging woman. Quite a sight. ‘I will not let you intimidate me, Mr Delaney.’

‘Is that what I’m doing?’

‘You’re trying your best to. You have a cook by the name of Brent, don’t you?’ And when Jason nodded she went on, ‘Off on vacation for a month, and in need of a substitute?’

An alarm bell rang in Jason’s mind. ‘How would you know that?’ he asked aloofly.

She gave him a saucy look. ‘Brent’s ad appeared in a ranching magazine, and I happened to see it. I called him, we talked and he gave me the job.’

Jason frowned. ‘I see.’

‘Didn’t he tell you?’

‘No.’

‘I guess it slipped his mind.’

Jason looked down at her, an enticingly fragile figure. Her eyes returned his look—wide, blue, confident. ‘Anyway, Brent will be waiting for me. He’ll want to tell me all about my duties.’

‘Sure of that, are you?’ Jason asked derisively.

‘Of course.’ Her eyes were challenging now. ‘He must have told you something about me.’

‘Only that he’d arranged for someone to take his place while he’s on vacation.’

‘Well, then!’

‘Not a word about hiring a woman. Morgan...’ Jason frowned. ‘Now that I think of it, Brent did mention the name. But Morgan is a man’s name, not a woman’s.’