Jacob's Proposal. Eileen Wilks

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      EILEEN WILKS

      is a fifth-generation Texan. Her great-great-grandmother came to Texas in a covered wagon shortly after the end of the Civil War—excuse us, the War Between the States. But she’s not a full-blooded Texan. Right after another war, her Texan father fell for a Yankee woman. This obviously mismatched pair proceeded to travel to nine cities in three countries in the first twenty years of their marriage. For the next twenty years they stayed put, back home in Texas again—and still together.

      Eileen figures her professional career matches her nomadic upbringing, since she’s tried everything from drafting to a brief stint as a ranch hand—raising two children and any number of cats and dogs along the way. Not until she started writing did she “stay put,” because that’s when she knew she’d come home. Readers can write to her at P.O. Box 4612, Midland, TX 79704-4612.

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Prologue

      “We have to get married.”

      Outside, wind thrashed the shrubbery and snatched leaves from the oaks. Inside, three brothers stood in silence—two of them stunned, one grim. All three were tall, strong men, but that was the only obvious resemblance. They weren’t full brothers, after all. A close observer might notice a certain shared grace, the identical long-fingered hands, a likeness about the jaws and strong throats. Those few people who knew the West brothers well knew of other traits their father had passed on to his sons. Less visible traits than physical strength and grace.

      Less desirable ones.

      Luke, the middle brother, gave a quick bark of laughter. “What, the three of us? This is Texas. I’m pretty sure there are laws against that sort of thing.”

      “Don’t be any more of an ass than you have to.” That came from Michael, the youngest, who sat in one of the wing chairs facing the empty fireplace. His eyes were as dark as his hair; he had the build of a dockworker and the face of a scholar. “The treatments are that expensive, Jacob?”

      The oldest and tallest of the brothers stood in front of the mantel. Jacob West was a lean, broad-shouldered man with harsh features and a remote expression. His hair was dark enough to look black in the artificial light; his eyes were oddly pale, as nearly colorless as human irises can be. “Each treatment takes eight days and costs just under a hundred thousand dollars. None of it, of course, is covered by insurance, since it’s experimental.”

      Michael whistled soundlessly.

      “Even you don’t have that kind of money.” Luke pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against. “God. The last time I saw Ada, she looked fine. It’s hard to take in…how long have you known?”

      “Four months.”

      “Four months?” Luke stopped, his head swiveling toward his brother. He was a restless man, lighter than the others in build and coloring, with the face of a fallen angel and more charm than was good for him. “Four months, and you didn’t tell us?” He took a step toward Jacob. It looked as if he might take a swing at him, too.

      Michael stood and put a hand on Luke’s arm. “Easy.”

      “Ada insisted that I promise not to tell anyone. I wouldn’t have known about her condition myself if I hadn’t found her collapsed one day…” Jacob’s thin lips closed tightly on that memory. “I’m breaking my promise now because there’s something we can do.”

      Michael spoke. “Where’s Ada now, Jacob? In the hospital?”