Wyatt's Most Wanted Wife. Sandra Steffen

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      “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”

      “The beginning?” she asked.

      “When were you born?”

      “You want me to start at the beginning of my life?”

      “I need your date of birth. For the form.”

      “Oh.” She glanced at the sheet of paper in front of him and rattled off the information he’d requested. Being careful not to make any noise releasing the breath she’d been holding, she stared at his down-turned eyes and told herself she was completely unaffected by this man’s quiet presence.

      Wyatt jotted down information, checking the proper boxes, filling in the usual blanks. His heart beat a steady rhythm that had nothing to do with procedure. If he’d been with anyone else, he might have laughed to ease the tension in the room, but he glanced up from the form and found Lisa watching him. He couldn’t have laughed if he’d tried.

      Being careful not to snap the pencil lead, he said, “What could your parents have possibly found not to like about you?”

      She leaned toward him slightly. Tilting her face at a sassy angle, she said, “I know it’s hard to imagine, but I haven’t always been this shy and sweet.”

      “You’re right. I do find that hard to believe.”

      Wyatt heard her quick intake of breath and saw her eyes widen. He’d surprised her. He was amazed at how much satisfaction the knowledge gave him. However, her discomfiture didn’t last long. She closed her eyes, squared her shoulders and crossed her legs. Her red raincoat fell open, and Wyatt had his first up-close glimpse of her legs. Her ankles were small, her calves slightly muscular, her knees narrow. The skin just below the hem of her red Western skirt looked soft and supple and oh so touchable. His reaction was eager and as predictable as nightfall. By the time he managed to drag his gaze back to her face, she was staring at him knowingly.

      She covered her legs with her coat and cast him an arch look that spoke volumes. “Shall we continue?”

      Despite the fact that the room had warmed at least ten degrees and the blood seemed to have left his brain and was heading for a place south of there, Wyatt found himself wondering where Lisa Markman had acquired her spunk, her intelligence and her independent spirit. Before him sat a woman who could smile at whim and think on her feet. She was sassy and appealing, and she knew it. There weren’t many things more stimulating than a woman who recognized her own sensuality.

      “If you don’t mind, Sheriff, I’d like to get back to the report.”

      Wyatt reined in his wayward thoughts and did his best to ignore the pulsing knot that had formed low in his stomach. He asked her pertinent questions and finished filling out the form, an indefinable feeling of rightness growing with every breath he took. Lisa might have turned down his invitation to dinner last night, but she was as aware of the attraction between them as he was.

      He would have preferred her to be open about her feelings, but he wasn’t opposed to a woman playing hard to get. Doing everything in his power to keep the smile of anticipation off his face, he turned the form around and indicated the place for her to sign.

      She wrote her name with a flourish, then rose to her feet. Rising, too, he said, “We’re not talking about a pie thief here. We’re talking about grand theft auto, and I assure you I’ll do everything in my power to get to the bottom of it and get your car back to you. Now, how about that dinner I mentioned last night?”

      He liked the look of genuine surprise that crossed her face, but when she raised her chin a notch, then paused as if she was searching for the proper words, he had a feeling he was in for another letdown. When she finally spoke, it was in a soft, conciliatory tone of voice he didn’t like one bit. “I hope you don’t take offense, Sheriff, but I’m afraid you’re just not my type.”

      Wyatt felt his face fall, but she wasn’t finished. “Just so you know, I already have plans for the evening. I promised Butch Brunner I’d drive down to Rosebud to watch him ride a bronco at the rodeo tonight.”

      As if she didn’t expect a reply, she turned and strode to the door. Ignoring his earlier warning about bad luck, she opened her umbrella and walked out into the rain.

      * * *

      Lisa smoothed a wrinkle from the lightweight denim jumper then pressed a tack into the lattice boards that divided the display window from the rest of the store. She knew it was late in the season to try to sell summer clothing, but she was hoping a new display and sale prices would lure the women of Jasper Gulch inside. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to get to Pierre to pick up the new fall merchandise, now that she was without a car, but she knew she’d find a way just like she always did.

      She was probably the only person in the world who would move more than five hundred miles in order to open a clothing store in a town whose population barely reached five hundred during the worst drought in more than two decades. Still, she’d arrived in mid-July full of high hopes and big plans. Other than a flash-in-the-pan sales frenzy in the days before last month’s town picnic, business hadn’t exactly been booming. But the drought was over, and for now at least, the rain had stopped. Surely that was a good sign.

      Melody McCully rapped on the window and waved as she passed by. Since Lisa’s hands were full of tacks and a man’s Western shirt, she gave Melody a wink and a smile that earned her a gesture that would have been unbecoming on anybody else. Lisa’s smile hovered around the edges of her mouth for a long time after she’d turned back to her task.

      Mel McCully is nothing like her brother.

      She jerked, as much from the thought of Wyatt as from the pain in the tip of the finger that had gotten in the way of one of her strategically placed tacks. Popping her finger into her mouth, she glanced out the window just in time to see Opal Graham and Isabell Pruitt avert their beady eyes and raise their self-righteous little chins.

      Lisa recognized the open censure on their faces. For the life of her, she didn’t know what she’d done to deserve it. They hadn’t so much as spoken to her, so how could they possibly dislike her? Surely her hopes and dreams weren’t so much different than theirs had been when they were her age. At thirty, all Lisa wanted was a home, a family, a way to make ends meet and a man to love. When it came to a home, she wasn’t fussy. Any four walls would do. After all, she’d lived in enough places to know that it wasn’t the structure that brought security. She knew exactly what she was looking for in a man. Glancing at the racks and shelves containing everything from men’s work clothes to women’s skirts to children’s play clothes, she knew she could make her store a success, too. She just had to be patient.

      The bell over the front door jingled. There, see? The customers are starting to come already. She had a smile ready before she could turn around.

      Louetta Graham mumbled a shy greeting then quickly averted her eyes. Glancing at her watch, Lisa toned down the brightness of her smile a little and said, “Goodness, Louetta, I had no idea it was eleven-thirty already. Your arrival is just like clockwork.”

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

      Lisa did everything in her power to soften her smile even more. Honestly, she’d never come across anyone more shy than Opal Graham’s daughter. Every time she saw Louetta, Lisa thought of a stray cat. Maybe it was her drab brown hair; or maybe it was the way she skirted the edges of a room to keep СКАЧАТЬ