Abigail jumped as her thoughts were disrupted by the sound of a deep sonorous voice; a most appealing tone that raised her gaze to behold the face of an angel.
Now she stared straight into the azure blue gems that she’d admired from the stagecoach; finding that they gleamed brightly from a peerless face that also boasted carved cheekbones, full moist lips, and a perfect cleft chin.
Then she allowed her curious eyes to stray the length of his tall, muscular form; a body defined by the presence of hard toned pectorals and abdominals, and long trim legs that today came encased in tight, sculpting blue jeans.
“Beautiful,” she breathed, adding as she squared her substantial shoulders and stood up straight in the field, “That is to say, I find these flowers incredibly beautiful. And, just so you know, I’m Abigail Tompkins. I’m the lady who sent a letter in answer to your advertisement for a mail order bride.”
The man nodded.
“Pleased to meet ya, Ma’am. I’m Cal Hopkins, owner, and proprietor of Elsa’s Rose, which as you may have heard is the largest farming garden in this stretch of Texas. And I’m mighty glad to hear that you favor these flowers,” he told her, adding in a matter of fact tone, “As those are the only roses you’re likely to be receivin’ during your time at this ranch.” He paused here, adding with an empathetic smile, “I’m so sorry to tell you this, Miss, but I am not interested in cultivating a romantic relationship with my thusly called mail order bride. I am interested only in cultivating my crops, and with the help of someone who knows the lay of the land.”
Abigail thought a moment, then pursed her lips.
“Did you come to that conclusion when you placed your advertisement for a mail order bride?” she queried, adding as she inclined her head sharp in his direction, “Or at the moment that you saw me step out of the stagecoach?”
She froze as the man before her whipped his ivory cowboy hat clear off his head, holding it reverent over his heart as he said, “Oh no Ma’am, please don’t take offense at what I said.” He paused here, adding as he returned his hat to its place on his head and let loose with a frustrated sigh, “Truth be told I didn’t even place that blasted ad. My brother placed it, with the intention of finding me a new bride—totally ignoring the fact that all I need is an able assistant here on the ranch. I already had my wife, the love of my life, and was on the verge of fatherin’ the child that completed our family. Then, in a heartbeat, they were both gone.”
With these words, he took the garden hoe clutched in his sturdy grasp and threw it recklessly to the ground beneath him.
“For all my brother’s annoyin’ meddlin’, I have assured him that I am in no need of a replacement bride,” he insisted, planting his hands firm on his hips as he added, “I want a professional arrangement here, nothing more.”
His eyes flew wide as his guest met these words with a loud, joyful whoop; one that came accompanied by a spirited Texas two-step that would look right at home at a barn dance.
“Well Ma’am, I’m most pleased that you’re taking this news so well,” he muttered, adding as he pinned her with a sideways glance, “Did you come to that conclusion when you answered my advertisement for a mail order bride? Or at the moment that you saw me here working in the fields?”
Coming to an abrupt halt as her rawhide boots skidded in the dirt below her, Abigail let loose with a hearty chortle as she considered this question.
“Oh don’t be ridiculous Gent,” she admonished her host, adding as she pointed a most accusing finger straight in his direction, “You likely qualify as the most ridiculously handsome gent I’ve ever seen. I reckon that your degree of preposterous male beauty probably should be illegal, in point of fact. And most any woman would be more than eager to hogtie you into submission and drag you headfirst before the nearest justice of the peace.”
Blinking with surprise as he considered these words, Cal let loose with a robust chuckle as he shifted his boots in the grass beneath him.
“Well you sure do have a way with words Miss,” he praised her finally, adding in a reflective tone, “especially to the ears of a man who hasn’t laughed in a mighty long time.”
Abigail nodded.
“Oh, I hear ya. Back at home on the Diamond T Ranch, my folks and I used to laugh the day away. Then when Pa passed, it was all I could do to muster a smile,” she released these words on a tired sigh, adding as she graced her host with a warm, knowing smile, “I have the distinct feeling, Gent, that you and I are two of a kind. One day we’re just moseying through the process of working our own land and living our dreams. Then that pesky ol’ thing called life happened along and threw some big ol’ cow pies in our path.”