The Marriage Bargain. Susan Fox

      CHAPTER ONE

      HALLIE Corbett stared at the elderly man on the hospital bed. Grave illness hadn’t dimmed Hank Corbett’s harshness or the spite in his nature.

      “You heard me,” he panted. His gray eyes bore into hers. Gunmetal gray. Like a pair of Colts aimed at her brain, threatening her heart, imperiling the only life she’d ever known.

      “You don’t get a dime or a single Corbett investment. Candice gets all that.”

      Hallie was stoic. She’d learned early in life that showing emotion made her a target for attack. She sensed a follow-up to her grandfather’s declaration. He always threw her a crumb, some insignificant scrap that kept her in the game.

      He’d made her an emotional gambler. He’d barred her from his heart, but he always dangled something to keep her in range, to keep her hoping. And, like a dog about to starve to death, she always grabbed for the scrap. Though the crumb often turned out to be a mirage, it was the promise of a win that lured her.

      And hope. Hope that the old man had let her stay on all these years because he had some fondness for the illegitimate child of his disgraced daughter.

      Shaky promises and hope. Her real enemies, not the old man on the bed or her cousin, Candice, the granddaughter Hank Corbett doted on.

      Her voice was low, but loud enough for him to hear. “What about the ranch?”

      “Four C’s belongs to the Corbett worthy to carry on the legacy.”

      Hallie felt the familiar surge of jealousy and frustration, but was careful to keep her tone neutral. “Legacy means nothing to Candice. She’ll have a buyer before they close your grave.”

      The words were brutal, but she ignored the shiver of guilt. She was fighting for her home, for the only thing she might ever have.

      The old man’s eyes sparkled with interest. He was like a wolf who’d caught a whiff of fresh blood. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

      Her lips went stiff with the effort to suppress a tremor of emotion. She didn’t answer because they both knew she wanted the ranch. She loved the land. It didn’t play favorites. It was no more harsh with her than it was with anyone else. She’d made peace with its wildness; it was in her blood.

      Four C’s Ranch was the only place she really did belong. And it wasn’t the house or family that had given her a feeling of place, but the Texas soil itself and all that was nurtured by it. She’d held out this long for a chance at ownership. At least a piece.

      The elderly man on the bed chuckled then choked, his face going red with the coughing spasm that silenced his mirth. Hallie made no move toward the bed because he’d reject her display of concern. He’d never allowed her to express even a hint of affection. He’d never offered her any.

      When he recovered from the spasm, he closed his eyes. Hallie thought at first that he was dismissing her, but then his eyes opened and shot straight to hers. The gleam was back.

      “You’ve been a shame on this family since your mama brought you home to me. But you’re blood, however you got bred. Won’t leave you a dime more than the first six months operating expenses, but you can have Four C’s. If you get a husband before I die.”

      The words were so stupefying that Hallie forgot to mask her expression.

      Hank Corbett smiled, a curve of pale lips that made him look truly evil. “Folks ’round here think you don’t like men. Most aren’t sure you’re even female. Bastard’s one thing, but I won’t let a misfit inherit Four C’s. Legacy can’t live through a single woman who’ll never breed heirs.”

      Hallie felt her head go light. The room actually started to spin.

      “Had the lawyer put it in the will. Go see ’im if you got doubts. Make ’im show it to you.” He expelled a weary breath. “Now get out of here. I need some rest.”

      Still in shock, Hallie turned and with rigid dignity walked from the room. When she reached the hall, she got only a few steps before she stopped and put out a hand to the wall for support. She was shaking all over.

      She could have Four C’s. Thirty thousand acres, shining in her mind like a massive jewel. It could be hers. The prize she’d hoped for, waited for and endured a lifetime of pain and deprivation to have a chance at. He’d willed it to her then yanked it away before she could reach for it.

      A husband. Women like her didn’t find husbands.

      According to her grandfather, most people weren’t sure she was female. Of course he’d say that. Anything to snatch away the last bit of confidence that had survived being bullied and shamed out of her.

      And he’d accomplished his goal. Because the truth was, few people acknowledged her as a female because they never saw her act like one. She worked on the ranch as hard as a man, doing the same work and putting in the same grueling hours. She didn’t own a dress, and couldn’t remember when she’d last worn one. She’d never had a sweetheart or a date. With Candice around, she doubted men even noticed her.

      You