The Rancher's Hand-Picked Bride. Elizabeth August

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      Gwen started to say she wasn’t hungry, then her stomach growled and she realized she was. “Thanks.” Opening the refrigerator, she took out a couple of eggs and the ham.

      Watching her slice off a piece of the meat, Morning Hawk said, “I assume Jess gave you a list of names you’re supposed to pretend you chose for him.”

      Gwen looked over her shoulder. “Does anything ever get by you?”

      “Not where my great-grandsons are concerned. At least, not Jess.”

      Gwen turned, leaned against the counter, crossed her arms and regarded Morning Hawk wryly. “If you knew that was what he would do, why this charade?”

      “Because without some prodding, he wasn’t going to do any serious wife hunting and I want to see him settled before I go to the great hunting grounds in the sky.”

      “But this isn’t serious wife hunting. You’re both just playing a game with each other.”

      “Did he put Jeanette Harrison’s name on the list?”

      “No.”

      “Then it’s serious wife hunting.”

      “He left the name off because he knew you would protest.”

      “He left the name off because, deep down inside, he knows she’s not good wife material.”

      Gwen straightened. “Look, I didn’t like taking money for this charade before, but now that I know you’re not being fooled, I refuse to play this game.”

      “But it’s not a game. Whether you’re willing to believe it or not, these are women Jess thinks he could marry. And I want you to investigate them just as you would if you were playing matchmaker for one of your regular clients.”

      “I don’t play matchmaker for my clients. I merely tell them if what they see is what they’re getting or if there’s a hidden side to the person they’re dating that they should be aware of.”

      Morning Hawk rose, approached Gwen and took her hands in hers. “Please, do this for me and promise me that you won’t tell Jess I’ve guessed his game.”

      “I don’t feel right taking money for this.”

      “Don’t be silly. You’ll be doing your usual investigation.” Morning Hawk’s expression became sage. “Besides, if this prodding of mine does make him decide to get married, you wouldn’t want to let him fall into the clutches of the wrong woman just because you refused to help me weed out the bad ones.”

      Gwen wanted to say that she was sure Jess could take care of himself, but Morning Hawk had planted just enough of the seed of guilt to force her to admit that if he did pick unwisely it could be partially her fault. “Even if we warn him, I doubt he’ll listen to us,” she said, wishing she’d never gotten involved in this in the first place.

      “At least we’ll know we tried,” Morning Hawk countered. “Now I want your promise that you’ll keep this conversation between the two of us.”

      “I owe you a large debt, but you’re asking a lot. I don’t like to deal in lies.”

      “These are just little white ones and for a good cause.”

      “I’m not so sure Jess would see it that way.”

      “Please. I’ve communicated with the spirits and they’re leading me now just as they led you to me years ago.”

      Memories of that dark night so long ago when fear had caused Gwen to run from her home came vividly back to Gwen’s mind.

      “Promise me you’ll see this through,” Morning Hawk coaxed.

      “It’s against my better judgment, but all right,” Gwen relented, adding, “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t owe you so much.”

      “You’ll see, you’re doing the right thing.” Morning Hawk gave Gwen’s hands a motherly squeeze. “Now eat some breakfast. You’ve got work to do.”

      Gwen leaned back in her chair and stretched. She’d moved a table and chair into her bedroom and set up her computer there, then spent all morning checking the easily available records pertaining to the women Jess had chosen.

      At first, she’d locked her door. But both Lilly and Morning Hawk had dropped by to see her for various reasons and, not only had it been inconvenient to have to get up and unlock the door each time one of them knocked, but the look of surprise they’d given her when they’d discovered she had locked the door had made her feel foolish. And so, in the end, she’d not only left the door unlocked but open as well.

      Bootfalls in the hall warned her of someone approaching. Even before she turned her head to see who had come to a halt in the doorway of her room, she knew it was Jess. The hairs on the back of her neck had always prickled slightly when he was around and right now they felt like the spines on a cactus. Suddenly she found herself wishing the door was not only locked but bolted as well. Silently she cursed herself for allowing him to have such a strong effect on her.

      “You sure you aren’t cramped in here?” he asked.

      Gwen turned and grinned dryly. “You’ve never been in one of the rooms at Mrs. O’Grady’s boardinghouse, have you?”

      “Can’t say as I have.”

      No, of course he wouldn’t have ever been there, she mocked herself, her grin vanishing. Mrs. O’Grady ran a clean, respectable place but it was way across the tracks from anywhere the Logans would go. Except maybe Jess’s brothers. They’d probably been in the neighborhood chasing down criminals. She rose, her manner crisply businesslike. “This room suits me just fine.”

      Jess studied her. “Sounds like you’ve lived in some pretty tough neighborhoods. Now I understand the bat.”

      She met his gaze. “You don’t understand anything.” The moment the words were out, she regretted them.

      Jess’s gaze narrowed. “What don’t I understand?”

      “Look, I’m hungry. I’m going to see if Lilly has lunch ready.” Her tone let him know she considered their conversation over.

      Jess shook his head. “I’ve never met a woman as closemouthed as you.”

      “Most men would be grateful for that. Isn’t ‘women talking too much’ one of your major complaints?” He was still blocking the doorway. Normally she would have pushed past, but recalling the effect of contact with him, she chose not to get too close. “Would you mind moving out of my way?”

      Jess took a couple of paces back into the hall.

      Passing him, she headed toward the kitchen, only to hear his footfalls behind her. She glanced impatiently over her shoulder, then stopped and turned back. “Do you have some reason for dogging my tracks?”

      “I came to tell you that Lilly has lunch ready,” he replied in an easy drawl.

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