Wife Wanted! About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN EPILOGUE Copyright

Wife Wanted!

Rich and Handsome Prince Charming who likes kids and pets needs a wife. She must be pretty and nice and also like kids and pets.

Deer Prens Charmng. My mama is nice and prety. Pleas pik hen.

Love, Zach G.

Ruth Jean Dale lives in a Colorado pine forest within shouting distance of Pikes Peak. She is surrounded by two dogs, two cats, one husband and a passel of grown children and growing grandchildren. A former newspaper reporter and editor, she is living her dream: writing romance novels for Harlequin. As she says with typical understatement, “It doesn’t get any better than this! Everyone should be so lucky.”

Parents Wanted!
Ruth Jean Dale

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

MRS. FORBES, longtime receptionist at the Rawhide, Colorado, Review, looked up from her word processor with a smile. “Why Jessica Reynolds!” she exclaimed. “How are you, honey? I haven’t seen you since your ninth birthday party and that was at least three months ago!”

Jessica shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, thrusting her hands behind her back so Mrs. Forbes wouldn’t see the plastic shopping bag, or be curious about its contents. “My birthday is April sixteenth,” she said. “Thank you for the soccer ball.”

“My pleasure.” The nice lady beamed. “Would you like a jellybean?”

“Yes, thank you.” Mrs. Forbes always had a bowl of jellybeans on her desk; you could tell she was a grandma. Jessica scooped out a handful and popped several into her mouth.

Mrs. Forbes nodded approvingly. “So what brings you here to a boring old newspaper office on this fine July day?”

Jessica spoke around a mouthful of candy. “I came to see my grandpa. Is he here?”

“He sure is.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“You sure can.” Mrs. Forbes pointed to the closed door with the sign that said Editor, Publisher, Owner and King. “Go right on in, honey. He’s been working on that editorial for two hours already. If it’s not right now, it never will be. And you can tell him I said so!” With a final smile she returned to her typing.

Jessica popped the last of the jellybeans into her mouth and squared her shoulders. She had come to see her grandfather on a very important mission and she didn’t want to make any mistakes. With purposeful steps she marched to his office and threw open the door.

John Reynolds looked up from behind his big desk with surprise on his jolly face. His thick white hair stuck out in all directions and Jessica thought in passing that he needed a haircut. But then, so did her daddy, most of the time. So did she, for that matter.

Grandpa grinned broadly and turned away from the word processor on the corner of his desk. “Hi, there, Sugar. Come give your favorite great-grandpa a big kiss!”

“You’re my only grandpa, and you are great,” Jessica said, because she knew he expected it. She only had one grandpa but this one would be her favorite even if she had ten grandpas. She trotted obediently around the desk and planted a big smack on his cheek, being careful to keep her shopping bag behind her.

He continued to beam at her. “So what brings you to my neck of the woods when you should be out playing with your friends?” He waved her toward a chair beside the desk.

She slipped into it, dangling bare brown legs over the edge of the seat. Maybe she should have dressed up for this important job? Her grandfather seemed to like seeing her in dresses and here she was in old cut-off jeans and a faded red T-shirt. She frowned, suddenly realizing that her sneakers had identical holes over the little toes of both feet. She sighed. Too late to worry about that now.

He was waiting for an answer. She pursed her lips and tried to think how to begin. “Well, see...uh...”

He stopped smiling but he didn’t look mean or anything. “Hmm...” He cocked his head to one side. “Looks like you mean business this time, young lady.”

“I sure do!” Jessica popped to her feet, finally hauling the bag around in front of her. Placing it on the floor, she reached inside and pulled out her piggy bank, the white ceramic one with the red spots that Grandpa had given her Christmas before last She placed the bank on the desktop before him.

He leaned back in his chair, hooking his thumbs in his suspenders. “What’s this!”

“All the money I have in the world,” she said fervently. “I hope it’s enough.”

“Enough for what?”

Turning, she rummaged around in her shopping bag again and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper, her heart pounding. Holding her breath, she offered the paper to him.

He unfolded the page and spread it out on the desk with great care. Picking up his glasses, he perched them on his nose and began to read.

Jessica held her breath. She’d put a lot of thought into the advertisement she wanted to place in her grandfather’s newspaper. Hadn’t he always said you could find anything you wanted, or get rid of anything you didn’t want, with an ad in the Review?

She was about to put him to the test. She’d worked very hard on her ad, copying it over and over, trying to get all the words just right. She’d read it so many times that now she could recite it by heart:

“‘Wife Wanted. Rich and handsome Prince Charming who likes kids and pets needs a wife. She must be pretty and nice and also like kids and pets.’”

“Well, well, well.” Grandpa removed his glasses and peered at her in surprise. “Prince Charming, huh? Are you talking about anybody we know here?”

Jessica laughed nervously. “You know we are, Grandpa. I’m talking about Daddy!”

He nodded, looking very serious. “That’s what I thought until I got to that ‘rich’ part.”

“Pretty rich,” she hedged. “I heard Mrs. Forbes say he was a great catch one time. Is that the same?”

He rolled his eyes. “Close enough for government work, I guess. But I wouldn’t exactly call my grandson a Prince Charming, either.”

“I had to say something nice or nobody would answer the ad,” she argued a little desperately.

He chuckled softly. “Is it that important to you, Sugar? Aren’t you happy? Isn’t your daddy taking good care of you?”

This was the part she’d dreaded, trying to explain to Grandpa how she felt. “He’s...he’s awesome as a daddy,” she said slowly, “but as a mother... well, as a mother, Grandpa, he...he...”

“Stinks?” he offered helpfully.

She sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

“But I thought he had girlfriends. I mean, doesn’t he go out on dates sometimes?”

Now it was Jessica’s turn to roll her eyes. “Sure, but not with mothers. They’re pretty and all, but they just pat me on the head and try to get away as fast as they can.” She curled her lip at the memories. “That Brandee woman is the worst.”

“You mean Brandee Haycox, the banker’s daughter?”

Jessica blinked. “I don’t know. I just know she doesn’t like kids much and she hates dogs. When she saw Fluffy the first time, she screamed.”

“Honey, Fluffy is a ninety-pound Siberian Husky with silver eyes and fangs like a wolf.”

She thrust out her bottom lip stubbornly. “That Brandee woman doesn’t like dogs! What kind of person doesn’t like dogs?”

“You got me there.” He cocked his head and he was no longer smiling. “You don’t think...you don’t think your father’s planning to marry her?”

Hot tears sprang to Jessica’s eyes. “I hope not, but he’s gotta marry someone. I need a mother! I need someone who knows how to comb my hair without pulling it out by the roots.” With one hand she flipped up her long straight hair—straight except for the tangles. “And I want to learn how to cook, and I need someone to sew on my buttons and stuff. Daddy’s no good at girl things, Grandpa.”

“Never was,” he admitted.

“So I just have to do something.” Looking around, she spied the big metal stapler on his desk. Grabbing it, she raised it high above the plaster pig, ready to shatter it to smithereens so she could offer him every single cent.

“Hold on!” Grandpa caught her hand in midair.

She frowned. “Don’t you want to know how much money I have? Maybe I don’t have enough.”

“You’ve got plenty.” He slipped the stapler from her hand. “I’ll trust you for it.”

That had been a big worry. She slumped with relief.

He cupped her chin and raised it so he could look into her eyes. “This is really important to you, isn’t it, little one?”

She sighed. “It is, Grandpa. I’m growing up. I’m almost ten—”

“Barely nine.”

“—and I’m gonna be a teenager soon. Somebody’s gotta show me girl stuff or I might goof up.”

For a long time, Grandpa sat there with a thoughtful and kind of sad look on his face. Then he suddenly sat up straighter. “Okay, we’ll do it,” he announced.

She threw herself into his arms, so filled with relief that she could barely talk beyond murmuring over and over again, “Oh, thank you, thank you!”

“Here’s how we’ll work it. We’ll run the ad blind—”

“Ads can’t see!”

He laughed. “Blind means we won’t say whose ad it is. We’ll direct replies to the Review at Box 100.”

“Okay.” She didn’t understand exactly what the point was but she didn’t much care as long as he would run her ad.

“Then when we get in all the replies—if there are any—we’ll tell your daddy what we’ve done.”

“Let’s pray,” Jessica suggested, under no illusions that her father would be pleased. But as he was always saying to her, she was doing this for his own good whether he realized it or not.

“You got it.” Grandpa grimaced. “I don’t expect that grandson of mine will be any too happy but by then it’ll be too late.”

They exchanged conspiratorial glances. Then he said more cheerfully, “Anyway, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” His big grin flashed again. “You see, Sugar, you’re not the only one who’d like to see him settle down with a nice girl.”

“Who likes kids and dogs,” she reminded him, because that was the most important part.

“Absolutely.” He stood up. “Take your pig and run along now. I’ll see that the ad gets into today’s paper.”

“Thanks, Grandpa.” She hugged him. “But I want you to keep the pig. Daddy says only deadbeats don’t pay their bills.”

“Well...I can wait for payment until we see if our scheme works out, I suppose. I’ll keep the pig until then.”

“Thank you, grandpa. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Sugar.” He cleared his throat. “So where’s your daddy today?”

“He’s working on Mrs. Gilliam’s house.”

“Still?”

“I don’t think he’ll ever get it right,” she said seriously, repeating something she’d heard at home.

“Probably not,” Grandpa agreed. “Poor Laura. So that’s why she said she’d be coming in late today.”

Matt Reynolds shoved his cap back on his head, planted fists on hips and glared at Laura Gilliam. The life-styles editor of the Rawhide Review had to be the pickiest customer he’d encountered since he started the Reynolds Construction Company years ago.

She stared right back at him with an exasperated expression on her face—admittedly a very pretty face but stubborn. Really really stubborn.

He spoke past gritted teeth. “You realize that if you keep changing the specifications on us, we’ll never get your family room finished.”

Slender brows rose above velvety brown eyes. Her lips were the pink of roses, although set in a straight and forbidding line at the moment. “Don’t patronize me, Matthew Reynolds,” she said. “This is the only family room I’ll ever be adding to this house and I want it to be right.”

“Right.” She wouldn’t know right if it walked up and kicked her in the shin. What difference was it going to make when she used it, if the bar was six inches to the right or left? But to put it where she wanted it was going to mean changing the door and that meant the windows would have to be adjusted and the refrigerator shifted—hell.

“I knew you’d understand,” she said sweetly.

“Who understands? But if that’s what you want—”

“It is,” she said quickly. “Thank you very much for your...patience?” Her expression said something else entirely, something along the lines of you’re not going to bully me, you big oaf. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get in to work.”

“Sure. Don’t let me keep you.”

She turned and he found himself admiring the curve of her hips beneath the denim skirt, the slender legs, the bounce of blond hair. When she’d first moved to town three years ago to take the job at the Review, he’d thought that maybe they might...

But he’d been badly mistaken. Laura Gilliam might look good but she was stand-offish and guarded her privacy too fiercely. So far as Matt knew, she rarely dated, although she was much admired by the half of the population which was male.

Helluva waste.

She disappeared through the door which temporarily connected the new construction with the rest of the house. He heard her call out, “Abby, I’m going back to work now.”

Matt knew that “Abby” was Abby Royce, recent high school graduate who was baby-sitting Laura’s six-year-old son, Zach, for the summer. He heard a further mumble of voices and then the slam of the front door, followed by the sound of her car engine.

Zach came skipping around the side of the already-framed room addition. “Hi, Mr. Reynolds,” he called out, his expression eager as always. “What cha doin’? Can I help?”

Matt grinned. Laura might be a pain in the neck but Zach was a great kid. A great fatherless kid, Matt corrected himself—and it showed. The boy was painfully eager for a man’s company.

“I can always use a good helper.” He waved Zach up beside him. “I was just hoping someone would come along to drive in a nail for me.”

“I can do it!” The earnest, freckled face looked almost ecstatic.

“You know,” Matt said slowly, “I kinda think you can.”

While Zach pounded away, both hands on the hammer, at a nail already started, Matt felt a curious warmth spreading through him. All little boys needed a man around the house. But considering how obstinate this little boy’s mother was, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Poor kid.

Running up the front steps of the Review, Laura met her boss’s great-granddaughter coming down. Jessica was a real sweetie, unlike her moose of a father.

“Hi, honey,” she greeted the girl. “Drop by to see your grandpa?”

The girl stopped short and her blue eyes widened. “Yes, but don’t tell,” she said quickly.

Peculiar response. “Okay, if you don’t want me to,” Laura promised. Automatically she reached out to brush back brown hair falling across Jessica’s eyes, nearly obscuring her vision. Poor little thing; her hair always looked like a haystack. And it would be so pretty if something were done with it.

The girl looked up with wide eyes. “Does my hair look awful?” she asked anxiously. “I combed it this morning, honest.”

“It looks just fine.” Laura finished smoothing the bangs out of the way. “Your hair is really very pretty.”

“It’s awful!” Jessica batted at it. “I wanted to cut it since second grade but Daddy won’t let me. He likes long hair but it gets in my way all the time.”

“Why don’t you braid it, or wear a ponytail?” Laura suggested; a reasonable solution, she thought.

Jessica’s lower lip thrust out. “Because I don’t know how,” she muttered.

“Well, for goodness sake, if that’s the only problem—!” Grabbing the girl’s hand, Laura guided her back up the steps. “Come inside. I can teach you in five minutes.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

And she did. Then she bought Jessica a can of soda and they spent another half hour talking—“Girl talk,” Jessica said smugly.

“That’s right,” Laura agreed, admiring the long braid swinging neatly between the girl’s shoulder blades. “Feel free to drop by any time you need help with your coiffure.”

“My what?”

“Coiffure. That’s hairdo in French.”

“Coiffure.” Jessica preened. “I didn’t even know I had one!”

Because you don’t have a mother, Laura thought, feeling infinitely sorry for the pretty little girl before her. And that father of yours apparently isn’t doing anything to help you out, either. You’re growing up fast and there’s so much a girl needs to learn.

Poor Jessica really needed a woman around the house, but considering how pigheaded her father was, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Poor kid.

“Hi, Daddy.”

Matt looked up from the building plans he’d been perusing to see his daughter skipping across Laura’s lawn. She looked different and for a moment he didn’t realize it was because her hair was in a neat braid instead of hanging free around her face.

She looked nice. He wondered who’d done it for her.

She preened before him, turning her head this way and that. “Like my coiffure?” she inquired coyly.

Zach, playing in the grass with a square of sandpaper, frowned. “What’s a cough-your?” he wondered.

Jessica grinned broadly. “A hairdo, silly.”

Matt smothered his smile. “So who braided your hair and taught you such a big word?” he teased his daughter.

She pointed to Zach. “His mother!”

Zach clapped his hands together. “Hooray for Mama!” He looked expectantly at Matt.

“Yeah, hooray,” Matt responded, less than thrilled with the news. “So where have you been?” he asked Jessica.

“Around.” She said it with airy superiority.

“Does your sitter know where you are?”

“I told Mrs. Brown I was going over to the crafts workshop at the school.”

“But you didn’t?”

Zach stood up. “I’m glad you came to my house, Jessie. Want to play?”

Her gaze shifted from the little boy to her father and back again. “Daddy—”

Zach tugged on her hand. “Jessie, I got a new video. Want to watch it?”

Matt frowned. “Jessica, I asked if you’ve been to the crafts workshop at school.” Even in a town as small and friendly as Rawhide, he didn’t like the idea of her wandering around anywhere she chose to go.

She nodded without meeting his gaze. “So now can I go see Zach’s video? It’s probably some baby thing but—”

“It’s not a baby thing!” The little boy’s face turned red. “It’s got a horse and a dog and a cow—”

Matt gave in. “Run along, kids. Jessica, I’ll call you when it’s time to go.”

“Okay.”

He watched them hurry away, the little boy putting his hand trustingly in Jessica’s. Nice kids, both of them.

But now he had to figure out where to relocate the damned door so he could put this project for the picky Mrs. Gilliam behind him.

But Jessica’s hair did look good.

. Zach’s baby-sitter gave the kids an apple and a glass of lemonade each, put in the new video and departed to fold laundry. It only took a couple of minutes for Jessica to decide that, Zach’s opinion to the contrary, this was a film for little kids.

Zach finally looked around at his fidgeting guest with a frown. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“This movie is boring.”

“It’s not neither boring!” He clenched his hands.

Jessica gave him a superior glance. “It is to me,” she said. “Besides, I’m thinking about something important.”

“Important?” Zach swiveled around on his seat on the floor before the television.

Jessica examined her surroundings for lurkers. Then she whispered to Zach, “Can you keep a secret?” She felt as if she’d bust if she didn’t tell someone what she’d done.

Zach made a big X on his chest with one forefinger. “Cross my heart and hope to die!”

“Okay, then.” She licked her lips and leaned forward. “I’m gonna get a new mother!”

“A new—?” His expression lightened as if he’d just caught on. “You are? Who?”

“Don’t know yet. I put an ad in my grandpa’s newspaper.” She pulled out the newspaper she’d picked up in his yard on the way in, turned to the appropriate page and read her ad proudly.

“My mama is pretty and nice and likes kids and pets,” Zach said when she’d finished. Suddenly he frowned, then asked sharply, “Can I get a daddy that way?”

“You mean, put your own ad in the newspaper?” She thought for a few moments. “Well, I don’t know but I don’t think so. In the first place, you don’t have any money to pay for it.”

“I have a whole dollar that the tooth fairy left last week,” Zach objected hotly.

“That’s not near enough.” Jessica couldn’t help thinking what a child he was. “Besides, a mother is probably easier to find than a father.”

“But I already got a mother!” He looked on the verge of tears. Just then his big old orange cat, Lucy, crawled onto his lap. He clutched Lucy so hard she let out a resentful yowl before cuddling up to him.

And at that very moment, Jessica suddenly had a really brilliant idea....

“You again?”

Jessica laughed and ran to hug her grandfather. “Aren’t you glad to see me, Grandpa?”

He grinned. “You know I am.” He gave her a skeptical look. “Did you see your ad?”

She nodded eagerly.

“Didn’t you like it?”

“I love it!”

“Then...?”

“I’ve already got an answer!”

He stared at her in astonishment. “But how? The ad’s barely had time to hit the streets.”

“I don’t care, I’ve got an answer! I didn’t know what to do with it so I brought it to you.” She handed him a sheet of paper identical to the one her ad had been written on.

Again, he opened the paper and together they read, “‘Deer Prens Charmng. My mama is nise and prety. Pleas pik her my dady is dead. Love, Zach G.’”

“He’s just a little kid,” Jessica explained in her grandfather’s ear. “I told him how to spell ‘prince’ but he still goofed it up. And he got confused on ‘pretty’ and left out a ‘t’—” She glanced at her grandfather and stopped speaking abruptly.

It almost looked as if Grandpa had tears in his eyes.

CHAPTER TWO

THE next day was Saturday, which wasn’t Laura’s favorite day to work. But this assignment was special: the announcement of the Citizen of the Year in Rawhide, Colorado. The name of the small city’s honored citizen would be announced at the annual potluck picnic in the park, to which the entire community was invited.

That meant old and young alike, so Laura and Zach set off for the park shortly after eleven o’clock. Parking in a field designated for that purpose, Laura hauled out her contribution to the festivities—her famous apple pie. She also carried a tote bag containing a reporter’s notebook and a camera. Zach skipped along happily at her side.

The day was balmy and bright, one of those Rocky Mountain highs songwriters immortalized and locals cherished. Well-known because of her association with the newspaper, Laura responded to waves and greetings from almost everyone they passed.

This was one of the things she loved about living here—the friendliness of the people and the neighborliness of the town. Everyone had welcomed her when she’d arrived three years ago to take the job of life-styles editor of the Review. She’d been a widow with a three-year-old child, both of them strangers from the big city of Chicago, and both somewhat fragile emotionally.

But the citizens of Rawhide had taken the newcomers to their collective hearts—with a few notable exceptions, one of whom suddenly loomed before her as she rounded the last vehicles parked at the edge of the grassy parkland.

Matthew Reynolds: wouldn’t you just know. And beside him was his best buddy, Dylan Cole.

Matt tipped his cap and Dylan tipped his cowboy hat. Both grinned broadly, their attention focused on the pie she carried.

Zach tugged at Matt’s hand, his little face beaming. “Hi, Mr. Reynolds. Hi, it’s me, Zach!”

Matt grinned down at the boy. “It sure is.” He nudged Dylan with his elbow. “You know my helper Zach, don’t you, buddy?”

“Yep.” Dylan offered a hand to the boy. “How you doin’, partner?”

Zach put his little hand in that of the big man grinning at him. “Okay,” he said shyly.

Matt patted the boy on the head. “Any chance your mama is carrying one of her famous apple pies for this potluck?”

Zach nodded his head vigorously. “Uh-huh. And she’s got another one just like it at home!”

Matt looked shocked. His gaze swung from the boy to the mother. “You holding out on me, Laura?”

She smiled sweetly. “And not for the first time, either.” She nudged Zach forward. “Come on, honey, I need to put this pie down and then we’ll see if any of your friends are here.”

“Okay.” The boy gave Matt a last wistful glance before turning away.

That’s what came from having Matt bumbling around with her remodeling project, she thought self-righteously, following the boy weaving his way through the crowd. Thank heaven, the job would be finished soon—she devoutly hoped—and then surely Zach would get over this bad case of hero worship.

Please let him get over it!

Matt watched her walk away, wondering how a man was supposed to deal with a woman like that. Hell, she even ironed her jeans, put creases in the damned things! And with those nicely fitting jeans she wore a white silk shirt that clung in all the right places. Denim and silk: a helluva sexy combo for an Ice Queen like Laura Gilliam.

Dylan chuckled softly. “Just what did that mean?” he inquired, jutting his chin after Laura.

“What did what mean?” As if Matt didn’t know.

“When you ask if she’s holdin’ out on you, she says it’s not the first time. Something goin’ on I don’t know about?”

“Hell, no.” Matt took off in the same direction she’d disappeared. “What say we go liberate us a couple of cold ones.”

“Best idea you’ve had all day.”

Tubs overflowing with cans and bottles of beer and ice stood beneath the shade of cottonwood trees. Off to one side, long trestle tables with paper coverings groaned beneath the weight of food provided by the townspeople. Matt himself had made a contribution: a tub of fried chicken from a fast-food store.

Fishing out his preferred brand of beer, he ignored Dylan’s running commentary about one thing or another and instead watched Laura talking to Marilyn Rogers, the mayor. Marilyn cocked her silver head attentively, apparently enthralled by whatever the lovely Mrs. Gilliam might be saying.

And she was lovely. Matt had thought so the moment he saw her, a new employee at his grandfather’s newspaper. But he knew she was a widow, and out of respect for her loss he’d waited a year before he asked her out—a whole year. It hadn’t been easy, either, because he’d been intrigued by her from the first.

On their one and only date, they’d gone to the popular local saloon called the Painted Pony, had dinner and even danced a little. He’d found her quiet, almost shy, which didn’t jibe with any of the newspaper people he’d ever known. But then, he’d decided she was probably just intimidated because he was her boss’s grandson.

He was also owner of his own successful construction company and proud of the town where he’d been born and raised. He worked hard for the Rawhide Chamber of Commerce and the local Kids’ Club and every other civic issue that came along, and had donated the labor to erect the bandstand in the park. In short, he was very involved in community life.

She wasn’t, outside of her work. And despite her beauty, he hadn’t exactly seen guys knocking down her door to get friendly. Most of the eligible men in town were probably put off by her aloof manner, but not Matt.

Something told him that with a little effort, she could relax enough to be a whole lot of fun—and he was more than willing to help her. That’s why, when he took her home, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

It was a nice kiss—a real nice kiss. For a moment, she’d felt compliant and warm in his arms. Her lips were incredibly soft beneath his, and unexpectedly he felt something...something hopeful flip over in his chest... something like his heart. The kiss was so much more than he’d expected!

Breathless and shocked, he’d pulled back to stare down at her face, illuminated by the porch light. She looked dazed, and for a moment her fingers clutched at his arms. But just as he was opening his mouth to tell her he thought she was just about the greatest thing since sliced bread, she yanked away, gave him a withering look and slapped him so hard his jaw still ached just thinking about it.

Needless to say, there had been no more dates with Laura Gilliam, nor would there be. The slap said it all; you didn’t have to hit Matt Reynolds over the head with a two-by-four.

But over the intervening months, he’d found himself reliving that incident and wondering what had happened. Because something still whispered to him that if she ever let herself go—

Dylan stepped in front of Matt and yelled in his face. “Hey! You heard a word I’ve been sayin’?”

“No.” Matt snapped out of his trip down memory lane. “Was it important?”

Dylan grimaced. “I just asked you a question, is all.”

“Care to run it by me one more time?”

“I just wanna know if Brandee is your date today or are you free to get into trouble with the rest of us boys?” Dylan winked broadly.

Matt sensed a friendly poker game in the offing and felt a moment’s regret. “Yeah, Brandee’s coming later.”

Dylan did not look happy to hear it. “Isn’t that gettin’ just a little too serious?”

Matt recoiled. “No! I got more sense than that. Dammit, Dylan, I just got tired of her chasin’ me. She’s been after me for years, although God knows why. I just finally got tired of runnin’.”

“It’s probably the old ‘football hero and the cheerleader’ thing,” Dylan agreed. “Just watch your step, buddy. She can be real unpredictable.”

Dylan led the way toward a group of men clustered around a horse someone had ridden in on, and Matt fell in beside him. But his thoughts were elsewhere, on the woman who seemed intent on tracking him down, and the other woman who didn’t even like to be in the same room with him.

Damn but life was strange, and women were stranger still.

“Hi, Miz Gilliam, can Zach come play with us kids?”

Laura looked around to find Jessica Reynolds grinning at her. “Well,” she said, “I’m not sure—”

“Please, Mama?” Zach inserted.

Aware that she was frequently called overprotective, Laura tried to calm fears she knew were completely unfounded. Bravely she asked, “Will you keep an eye on him, Jessica?”

“Sure!” The girl pushed all that long hair behind her ears. “We won’t go far.”

“All right. Would you like me to put your hair up into a ponytail before you go?”

“Would you?” Jessica’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve got a rubber band but I kind of get it tangled up when I try to do it.”

“Oh, dear.” Laura took the rubber band from the girl, a plain one that looked as if it had come off a copy of the Rawhide Review. “This really isn’t the best kind to use,” she explained, carefully slipping it around the handful of hair at the back of Jessica’s head. “I’ll pick up the kind you need next chance I get.”

“Thanks!” Jessica turned, rose on tiptoe, and planted a quick kiss on her benefactress’s cheek. “Come on, Zach!”

Laura watched the two kids rush away to join the mob chasing after a soccer ball in the middle of the grassy area. What a sweet child. Matt was a lucky—

She pulled herself up short. Thinking about Matt just annoyed her, and had since the one and only time she’d gone out with him. Was she holding out on him? Much more than an apple pie!

The nerve of the man, to think she’d fall into his arms for the price of a simple dinner at the local gathering place a couple of years ago. Of course, it had been nice dancing with him. He moved with an athlete’s grace and his arms had felt strong around her. The brush of his thighs against hers as they moved in perfect unison sent little tingles running through her from the very first step. Matt Reynolds, she’d admitted to herself, was a very sexy man.

Which didn’t give him any right to think he could grab her like some caveman while they stood before her front door. All right, the pressure of those firm lips on hers had made her... almost giddy for a moment. And maybe she’d clung to him a bit longer than she should have—in shock, nothing more.

Apparently he wasn’t accustomed to dating ladies, because he’d looked absolutely stupefied when she slapped his face.

After that—

“Hi. What’s got you looking so serious?”

Laura pulled herself together to smile at her best friend, Katy Andrews, city reporter for the Review. Black-haired and green-eyed Katy had the suspicious nature you’d expect of a news reporter. Laura herself lacked that attribute, so had settled happily into life-styles.

“I was just thinking about work,” Laura lied. “I’ve got to go back in to write the Citizen of the Year story for Sunday’s newspaper, and I’ll have to make arrangements for someone to keep an eye on Zach.”

“I’ll watch him for you.”

“Really? I’d appreciate that. It won’t take me long.”

“Take as long as you like. He’s a great kid and we always have a good time.”

“Then thank you, I accept. Do you have any idea when they’ll get this show on the road?”

“You mean, announce the Citizen of the Year? After we eat.” Katy glanced around. “There’s Matt and Dylan!” She waved and smiled.

“Talk about looking for trouble,” Laura remarked dryly.

Katy laughed. “With Dylan, yes, but Matt’s okay.” She winked. “You could do worse, you know.”

“I’d rather go over Niagara Falls in a barrel,” Laura cried.

“Okay, let Brandee have him, then. Why not? She’s been after him since second grade.”

“With pleasure.” But Laura felt a shiver run through her at the thought of Matt at the mercy of Brandee Haycox, who seemed like a woman accustomed to getting what—or who—she went after.

“Speaking of love and romance...”

“Is that what we were speaking of?”

“More or less. But speaking of it, what did you think about that classified in yesterday’s paper?”

“What classified?”

Katy’s green eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you missed it! Everyone in town’s talking about it.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“It’s from some guy who signs himself Prince Charming. He’s looking for a wife who’s pretty and nice and likes kids.” She grinned. “Is that cute or what?”

“I’d call it strange. A newspaper ad is hardly an acceptable way to find a wife.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport.” Katy wrinkled her nose. “I’m thinking about applying, actually.”

“Katy!” Laura stared at her friend, appalled. “You wouldn’t!”

“Why not? Hey, twenty-nine-year-olds have to grab the brass rings where they can find them. Besides, it’s probably someone I already know, just too shy to come right out and say he wants to get married and have kids.”

“Maybe it’s Dylan,” Laura suggested with a laugh.

“Maybe it’s not,” Katy shot back. “It could be Matt, I suppose, but he’s got more women than he can shake a stick at without putting an ad in the newspaper. I’ve come up with a few other possibilities, though....”

Laura listened politely to Katy’s list of prospective Prince Charmings but her attention kept wandering to the group of men clustered around the red horse, and to one tall, broad-shouldered man in particular....

“Attention, everybody! Your attention please!” Mayor Marilyn Rogers stood on the bandstand, hands held up to quiet the crowd milling around below. When the level of sound had dropped to a murmur, she went on. “As you know, the purpose of this community picnic is to announce the selection of our Citizen of the Year, a great honor that goes to the man or woman who best exemplifies the unselfish ideals of service....”

Laura, standing unobtrusively near one corner of the bandstand, zoned out This was the third such event she’d covered and she pretty much knew the mayor’s spiel by heart. Not that she didn’t take it seriously; she did. She considered community service to be the sacred duty of every good citizen, and always tried to do her part.

But at the moment, she just wished Marilyn would announce the winner because Laura had to interview him or her, then rush back to the office and—

“—this year’s coveted award goes to the man who spearheaded efforts to revitalize the downtown area...the man who chaired revision to the city’s general plan...the man who headed up the fund drive to refurbish the gymnasium at the Rawhide Boys and Girls Club. Ladies and gentlemen, Rawhide’s Citizen of the Year...Matt Reynolds!”

Laura’s heart stood still. Not Matt! She didn’t want to interview him. But automatically she turned toward the spot where he’d been standing. He looked as stunned as she. Dylan slapped him on the back and gave him a shove. Reluctantly Matt moved forward to accept his plaque to the sound of enthusiastic applause.

Now he’ll probably say some arrogant thing about how it’s high time he won, Laura thought disapprovingly. Some people were just too sure of themselves.

Marilyn handed him the plaque, which was actually a leather-wrapped slab with all the particulars burned into it—get it? John had asked with delight the first time she’d seen it. Rawhide!

When Matt looked up to face the applause, his expression was serious, not arrogant at all. In fact, it looked as if he had to swallow hard before he could find his voice.

Even then, all he said was, “Thank you—thank you all. I don’t deserve this but I appreciate you folks giving it to me.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I know it’s a cliché but...” His gaze wandered over the faces in the throng, settling in on Laura’s for a heart-stopping instant that made her catch her breath.

After a moment he went on in a low, even humble, voice. “This town has given me so much that it’s only fair for me to try to give back what little I can. It takes all of us to make Rawhide the kind of place where we’re happy to live and bring up our kids. If I’ve helped at all, I’m deeply grateful for the opportunity. And for this.”

He waved the plaque above his head, grinned and stepped off the bandstand.

Laura stood froen to the spot for a moment Then her background and training surged to the fore. She stepped in front of him when he would have returned to his spot.

“Excuse me,” she said through the tumult of sound, “but I need a little information for the Review. If you have a moment...?”

For an instant, she thought he might turn her down. But then he grinned and said a cocky, “Sure. I try never to disappoint a lady.”

She could have kicked him for that.

It was easy enough to get the who-what-where-when-why of it—the classic five W’s of journalism. But getting to the man beneath was considerably harder, for a variety of reasons.

For one thing, the interview was conducted sitting side by side on the edge of the bandstand, with well-wishers feeling free to wander past to admire Matt’s plaque and offer congratulations. For another, he’d reverted to his old sardonic self. Only when Jessica and Zach rushed up to give him hugs did he relax into soft good humor again.

Jessica beamed. “I’m proud of you, Daddy!” she announced.

Zach parroted her: “I’m proud of you, too, Da—” Stricken, he glanced at his mom and hurriedly changed it to, “Mr. Reynolds.”

The near miss was like an arrow to Laura’s heart but it didn’t seem to faze Matt, who sent both children on their way with hugs and kisses. When they were gone, Laura couldn’t help observing, “You’re very good with children.”

He shrugged. “I like ‘em, that’s all.”

“At least we have one thing in common.”

He looked at her through suddenly narrow blue eyes. “I think we have considerably more than that in common.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Not a chance. Tell me, have you lived your entire life in Rawhide?”

He nodded. “Except for a few years at the University of Colorado.”

“Your family...?”

He looked thoughtful. “My dad died four years ago and my mom moved back to Oklahoma City, where her people are. You know my grandpa and my daughter.”

She couldn’t miss the pride in his voice at mention of his daughter. Softly she asked, “And your wife?”

He grimaced as if with remembered pain. “She...had a medical problem and died when Jessica was only a baby.” His gaze sharpened. “How about you? Your husband...?”

“An accident while jogging.” She looked away. “The car didn’t even slow down.”

“That’s really tough, Laura. Where were you living at the time?”

“Chicago.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Is that why you moved to Rawhide?”

She nodded, belatedly realizing she’d lost control of the interview. “W-when did you start your construction company? Did you—?”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” he said. “I want to know more about you. What did your husband do?”

“He was an attorney and don’t ask any more questions!” She glared at him, jabbing her pen point against the paper in her reporter’s notebook. “I’ve got enough for my story.” She closed her reporter’s notebook with a snap. “Thanks for your time and congratulations again on—”

“Laura!” Katy hurried up. “Would you do me a favor?”

Laura nodded. “Of course.”

Katy offered a couple of folded pages from her reporter’s notebook. “Could you take this back to the office and leave it on John’s desk? That’s where everything sent to Box 100 ends up.”

“Katy!” Laura stared at her. “You didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” Matt looked from one to the other.

Katy looked pleased with herself. “I answered Prince Charming’s ad.”

“You what?” Matt looked clueless.

“Oh, Matt!” Katy shook her head as if in disappointment. “If you don’t know about the ad, you’re one of the few who doesn’t. It’s a Classified, from Prince Charming looking for a wife who is nice and pretty and who likes kids and animals.”

He looked aghast. “Some guy actually put in a Want Ad for a wife? I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true.” Laura backed up her friend.

“But there are women all over the place,” he argued. “Why would anyone have to advertise to find one?”

Katy glared at him. “Come on, Matt, say what you mean—that women are a dime a dozen.”

“You said that, not me.”

Laura had had enough. She stood up. “I’m going back to the office. Katy, give me your application, and I’ll turn it in.”

Matt shook his head disapprovingly. “What kind of man would run an ad like that?”

“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question,” Laura said. She turned to Katy. “Shall I pick Zach up here or at your place?”

“Don’t go,” Matt said quickly. “Before Katy busted in, I was about to ask what it would take to get a piece of that apple pie Zach told me about.”

Before Laura could respond, a honey-coated voice that could only belong to Brandee Haycox, local femme fatale, interrupted. “This I’ve got to hear.”

Matt wanted to groan but didn’t. He’d been enjoying Laura’s company before everybody and her sister busted in on them. Nevertheless, he stood up and gave Brandee a peck on the temple; after all, she was his date, at least technically.

“Hi, Brandee,” he greeted her. “Glad you could make it.” And only a little sarcasm crept into his tone, although she was four hours and eleven minutes late.

“Really?” Her thin brows curved up. Unlike most of the women here today, she wore a sundress instead of pants or jeans. Her feet were encased in spike-heeled sandals. She’d been dressing fancy since grammar school.

“Yes, really.”

She rolled her eyes. “You seemed to be having a great time without me.”

He had been having a great time, he realized. Finally he’d satisfied at least a little of his curiosity about Laura.

But chivalry made him say, “Nah. I was just doing my duty.”

At which point, Laura waved her notebook in the air. “I just interviewed Matt for tomorrow’s paper,” she explained.

“Why?” Brandee wanted to know. “Did he rob a bank?”

Laura almost smiled at that one. “No, but you’re getting warm. He just won Citizen of the Year.”

“Really? You did?” She threw her arms around Matt’s neck and gave him a big kiss on the cheek, then pulled back to scrub at the lipstick stain with one beautifully manicured fingertip. “I’m so glad because now I won’t feel so guilty breaking up with you!”

CHAPTER THREE

LAURA was looking straight at Jessica when Brandee made her stunning announcement. The little girl had slipped up to hover behind her father instead of joining the circle—eavesdropping, it was clear to Laura.

But the satisfaction on Jessica’s face now was eyeopening to say the least. The girl was overjoyed! Laura’s heart went out to her. She’d obviously felt threatened by her father’s girlfriend, rightly or wrongly. Did that mean she’d resent any woman who might enter Matt’s life, temporarily or permanently?

Not that it mattered to Laura, of course, except that Jessica so obviously needed a woman’s guidance. It would be awful if the right woman came along and the little girl rejected her.

Matt finally found his voice. “You’re what?” he demanded of Brandee.

“Breaking up with you, darling.” She touched his cheek lightly with one graceful hand. “I know I’ve chased you shamelessly for years but something’s come up.” Her smile sparkled. “I’m moving to Denver to manage a new health club Daddy just bought me.” A tiny frown line appeared between her perfectly made-up eyes. “I don’t think I could stand a long-distance relationship, do you? I was just waiting for the right time to tell you and this is it.” She beamed at all and sundry.

Katy said, “Ye Gods!” very softly.

Laura said, “This is personal. I think I’ll just run along and give you two privacy.”

Brandee waved such discretion aside. “No need. We’ve said all that needs saying.” She added belatedly, “Haven’t we, Matt?”

Matt blinked as if he were still trying to come to terms with her brush-off. “Yeah, I guess we have.” He took a deep breath, then grinned. “Good luck, Brandee. I hope everything goes the way you want it to.”

Her smile was radiant. “Aren’t you a sweetie! I’ll miss you, you good-lookin’ thing.” Another light kiss, this time on his mouth; then she turned and sashayed away.

They stared after her, then they stared at Matt. He still looked stunned. The silence stretched out uncomfortably until it was finally broken by Jessica.

“Ya-hoo!” She flung herself at her father’s back, catching him by surprise when she hugged him fiercely around the waist. “We don’t need her, Daddy! Just you wait and see—!”

“Hey,” Dylan said, “did you ever dodge a bullet! Brandee’s chased you for so long that when she finally caught you, I was afraid your goose was really cooked.”

Matt had just filled his friend in on Brandee’s surprise announcement, and the two were loitering beneath a shady tree while the picnic wound down around them.

“Yeah, I was a little worried myself.” Matt took a deep pull on his beer. “It was kind of a shock, though,” he admitted.

“Kinda hurts your feelings, gettin’ dumped more or less in public.”

Matt shrugged, but he wasn’t thinking about the “public.” He was thinking about Laura, who’d looked so disapproving. “Jessica was kinda obvious about her feelings on the subject,” he said. “Brandee just wasn’t the motherly type.”

Dylan laughed. “You can say that again!”

“Yeah, well, it’s over. This dating stuff can be a real pain, you know? I think I’ll just take my time before I get mixed up with another woman.”

“Sure,” Dylan said, “you do that.”

John invited Laura to join him for coffee in his office Monday morning. “Just wanted to tell you what a fine job you did on that Citizen of the Year story about my grandson in Sunday’s paper,” he said. “I know it’s not easy, writing about the boss’s kin, but you handled it just fine.”

“Thanks,” Laura said, truly grateful because it had been a difficult story. At least she could be proud she hadn’t let her personal feelings about the man show through. Actually, she’d felt kind of sorry for him, being dumped in public that way.

“So,” John said, “how do you think the picnic went? Seemed to me folks were having a good time—at least until we ran out of beer.”

Laura laughed. “I don’t think that hurt the event in the slightest. Actually, I think everyone had a great time.”

“Pick up any good gossip?”

She thought for a moment. “Not really,” she confessed. “Everyone was too busy discussing the Prince Charming ad to get into much of anything else.”

John frowned into his coffee cup. “There is a lot of interest in that, all right.”

From the open doorway, Matt’s voice surprised them. “A lot of interest in what?”

Laura realized instantly that he thought they’d been talking about him. She hastened to set his mind at ease. “About the Prince Charming ad,” she said. “It was a hot topic of conversation at the picnic Sunday.”

His lip curled with disdain. He looked big and tough and impatient this morning in his faded jeans and red plaid work shirt. “I pity the poor guy who placed that ad when his identity comes out—and it will. It always does.”

“Why?” Laura frowned. “I think the ad is kind of sweet.”

“Sweet!” Matt rolled his eyes. “He’s gonna deserve what he gets, if you ask me. And what he’s gonna get is a women who can’t get a man any other way—that is, if anyone besides Katy answers the ad at all.”

Laura’s temper soared. “What an arrogant thing to say!”

He shrugged. “I call ’em like I see ’em. Have there been any other responses, Granddad?”

“A few,” John said evasively. “That’s privileged information, by the way.”

“Whatever.” But Matt didn’t look any less skeptical.

John cocked his head. “Did you drop by for a reason or are you just passing through?”

“I’ve got a reason all right—the usual.” He turned to Laura. “There’s going to be a delay in delivery of that fancy hardware you want for your family room. I told you it might take a little extra time to get that particular faucet but—”

“Oh, good grief!” She glared at him. “Just how long is ‘a little extra time’?”

He shrugged. “A week, maybe ten days.”

She gritted her teeth.

“So what do you want me to do?” he pressed.

“I want you to wait for it! I want what I want!”

“Yeah,” he muttered, “you want what you want when you want it. This time it ain’t gonna happen.”

She changed her tactics. “Then we’ll just have to cope, won’t we?” But she said it very sweetly.

He practically growled at her, then turned abruptly and disappeared through the open door. He nearly bumped into Mayor Rogers, who was entering.

“Matt!” she called after him. “Matt, I want to talk to—”

But he was gone. She entered, shrugging. “I’ll track him down later,” she said cheerfully. “In the meantime, I’m delighted to find the two of you together.”

John waved her toward a seat. “How so, Madame Mayor?”

“Because now I’ll only have to say this once.” She took a seat and reached for the carafe of coffee on John’s desk, poured some into a foam cup. “I’d like you both to come to my house Friday night for a kind of dinner party.”

John groaned. “You know how I hate that sort of thing.”

Her sunny smile didn’t waver. “You’ll like this one. It’s a barbecue in the backyard.”

John hurrumphed. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. I just enjoy breaking bread with a few of my favorite people now and again.” She turned to Laura. “Can you make it?”

“Of course.” She wouldn’t miss a social occasion at the mayor’s house. Not only did she like Marilyn, but keeping abreast of the social scene in Rawhide was part of her job.

“Good.” Marilyn grinned. “Because I’ve also invited the new city planning director, who just happens to be available.”

Laura’s first impulse was to groan, but then she asked herself, why not? Why not let the mayor play matchmaker? Laura wasn’t doing too good a job of it on her own. After three years of widowhood, she was feeling somehow... lonesome.

Not that she wanted anything more than casual friendship. To love wholly and freely was to take an enormous risk. She’d lost one love; she wouldn’t risk losing another.

She smiled. “I love meeting new people,” she said. “Now if you’ll both excuse me, I should get back to work before the boss realizes I’m goofing off.”

John waved her away. “You do that.” Before she was even out the door he was talking to Marilyn. “Did you happen to see that little scene at the picnic between my grandson and the banker’s ditzy daughter?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

Laura stepped through the door, half closed it and paused. A quick glance around showed her that no one was in sight. If she just happened to bend down to retie her shoelace...

John: “There was no call for her to dump him in public.”

Marilyn: “I think Matt can stand up to the strain. He’s better off without her, John, and you know it”

John, sighing: “You got that right. But I worry about little Jessica. She needs a mother in the worst way.”

Marilyn: “Not that kind of mother. It’s very perceptive of you to figure that out, though.”

John: “I didn’t figure out nuthin’, it hit me in the face. Dammit, Marilyn, someone ought to fix Matt up with a nice girl who’ll be a mother to that child—”

Laura thought that no nice girl in her right mind would waste her time with a ladies’ man like Matt Reynolds, even if Jessica was a nice little girl. Why, he’d probably been through every woman in town already, and he still—

April Forbes rounded the corner heading for her receptionist’s desk. She stopped short at the sight of Laura kneeling beside the boss’s half-closed door. “Everything all right?” she asked.

“Fine, just fine.” Laura shot to her feet, her cheeks burning. “I just had to—” She pointed to her foot. “—shoelace, you know—gotta get back to work.”

And she rushed out, leaving April staring after her. The new planning director’s name turned out to be Roger Reedy and he turned out to be a pleasant, if bland-looking, man in his mid-thirties. “I know you two will get on like gangbusters,” the mayor said when she introduced them. “Just go on out back to the deck—you’ll know everyone, Laura—and introduce Roger to anyone he hasn’t met.”

The doorbell rang at that moment so Laura nodded and led Roger away. She’d been in the mayor’s home a couple of times before, so she knew her way around.

Sure enough, she recognized all those who’d arrived before her: John, of course, plus the president of the chamber of commerce and his wife, the superintendent of schools and his wife, the fire chief and his wife.

John was manning the barbecue when she led Roger up to him and began the introductions.

“We’ve met,” John said, shaking hands. “So how’s it going at city hall, Rog, old boy?”

Roger launched into an earnest explanation but Laura wasn’t listening. Instead, her attention was drawn like a magnet to the man just pushing open the sliding-screen door.

Matt. Why should this surprise her? He was, after all, the newly crowned Citizen of the Year.

Their glances crossed paths, circled back and held. He looked great in crisp khaki trousers and a baby-blue Henley shirt, which was not to say he didn’t look equally great in his usual uniform of jeans and work shirt. But he’d gotten a haircut and he looked sleek and commanding as he stood there in the open doorway.

He started toward her, or maybe he was heading for his grandfather. She’d never know because Marilyn appeared behind him and called his name. He stopped instantly, turning toward her.

Marilyn had a stranger with her. a tall, impressive thirty-something woman dressed all in black, her black hair pulled back in a tight bun. There was a strength about her face that was hardly traditional but she was intensely striking, Laura thought.

Marilyn’s voice carried clearly. “Matt, I’d like you to meet Meredith Zink. She’s new in town and I’m trying to help her meet a few people.”

Matt took the hand the woman offered. “And what brings you to our fair city, Meredith?” he inquired.

“I’m an attorney,” she said crisply. “I’ve just joined the law firm of Lowe and Winkler. Perhaps you know of them...?”

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