The Cowboy's Perfect Match. Cathy Mcdavid
in the next few months. In the meantime, you can amuse yourself with his three children.”
“They are adorable.” She sighed wistfully, only to promptly sober. “I hate to think of you depriving yourself.”
“Of children?” Bridget asked.
“Yes, and a decent man. Like Ryan—”
“Don’t say it. You only just met him. No way can you tell if he’s decent or totally without morals.”
“I can tell. Even though his parents didn’t have a lot to go around, they raised him right.”
“That, or he’s proficient at conning people.”
Grandma Em made a sound of disgust. “You don’t believe that.”
No, Bridget didn’t. She was inclined to agree with her grandmother. Ryan had nice manners and an appealing openness about him. A what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of man.
“Working with him every day, I bet you’ll change your mind.”
Meaning her grandmother would refuse to quit matchmaking no matter what. If Bridget didn’t do something, she’d soon find herself in an awkward situation. But how to deter her grandmother?
The answer was easy. Throw her off track with a carefully calculated distraction.
“There is one man in town who kind of interests me,” Bridget said.
“Who’s that?”
The more she considered the idea, crazy though it was, the more she warmed to it. “Dr. Gregory Hall.”
Her grandmother’s eyebrows rose in surprise only to come together in a pronounced V. “Word around town is he’s married.”
“He’s not. He’s divorced. Molly told me the other day. She heard it from Nora.”
Dr. Hall was a relative newcomer to Mustang Valley. He’d been working at the urgent-care clinic these past seven months. In his later thirties, with clean-cut features, a pleasant bedside manner and short-cropped hair, more pepper than salt, he’d initially created quite a stir. Many of the single women in town had flocked to the clinic with invented complaints just to meet him. Not Bridget. But she had noticed him out and about on several occasions and concurred with the other women. Dr. Hall was hot.
The nonsense had stopped a few weeks after his arrival when he mentioned being married. Now, it had started up again with the news of his divorce.
“Must be recent,” Grandma Em observed.
“Pretty recent, apparently. He and his wife...ex-wife,” Bridget said, correcting herself, “have been separated awhile. That’s why he took the position at the clinic.”
“Doesn’t he have children?”
“A boy and a girl. Ages ten and twelve.”
“Bridget, honey. Are you sure you want to get involved with a man who’s barely divorced and a father to two preteens?”
“We can go slow at first.”
“That’s a lot to take on.”
“Molly’s dating a man with three young children.”
“It’s different with her and Owen. He’s been divorced awhile.”
Owen was also related to Grandma Em’s new husband, but Bridget didn’t bring that up.
The more arguments her grandmother made, the more determined she was to potentially pursue Dr. Hall. Gregory. She should start thinking of him by his first name.
“He’s exactly the kind of man I’m looking for and meets every requirement on my list.”
“I’d hate to see you get hurt,” Grandma Em said. “He seems nice and all, but there’s a reason his marriage failed.”
“He could have married for the wrong reasons. Like Mom and Doug.”
Grandma Em frowned, and Bridget realized she’d crossed a line. Her grandmother was very protective of Bridget’s mother.
“He’s certainly no worse than Ryan,” she said, “who lives in a run-down, falling-apart house and drives a beat-up old truck.” Owning a decent vehicle was number five on Bridget’s list. “I doubt he has two nickels to rub together.”
“Don’t judge a person by appearances.”
“No offense, Grandma, but I can say the same thing to you. You’re judging Dr. Hall by his appearances. Assuming that he isn’t a good person or a great catch because his first marriage ended in divorce.”
“Has he asked you out?”
Bridget stood. “Not yet, but he will.” She tugged on her apron, then ran her fingers through her hair. “I just need to get my game on.”
Granted, it had been a while since Bridget successfully set her sights on a man. She was confident, however, that her long dormant skills would come rushing back. And then her grandmother would stop trying to set her up with Ryan.
She turned and nearly choked. Ryan stood in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the jamb and a mischievous twinkle in his too-arresting eyes. How long had he been standing there, and what, if anything, had he heard?
Bridget squared her shoulders. She didn’t care. Let him think what he would. It didn’t matter.
“I finished signing the paperwork with Molly.” He pushed off the doorjamb. “She sent me here to see if there’s anything else you need done before the hayride.”
“Actually—” Grandma Em rose from the table “—there’s a light burned out in the chapel. We’ll need the stepladder to reach it.”
The wink Ryan gave her when he left confirmed what Bridget had already surmised. He’d caught some of what she said to her grandmother and found it amusing.
Really? Did he not think her capable of attracting a man? Rather than be dissuaded, her determination to wrangle a date with the hot Dr. Hall grew by leaps and bounds.
RYAN HELPED THE last guest climb into the hay wagon. The middle-aged woman—Ryan had heard it was a second marriage for both her and her groom—gripped his hand as she stepped from the overturned crate into the wagon’s long flatbed. Her husband, who was already in the wagon, hauled her up to join him.
Slightly unsteady and flushed with both excitement and nervousness, she let out a small gasp. “My goodness!”
“I’ve got you, darling.” Her husband anchored her against him.
“Yes, you do.” She stood on tiptoes and gave him a peck on the lips.
He guided her to the only empty bale of straw, where they sat down, their hands still joined. Their obvious love for each other reminded Ryan of his own parents. All these years later, the DeMeres still sometimes acted like the pair of teenagers they’d been when they first met.
Ryan hoped to have a marriage like theirs one day. He’d have to wait, though, until he’d made enough to buy that dream ranch. He wasn’t about to ask a woman to live amid crumbling walls, even if those walls would be rebuilt and unrecognizable in a year. His nomadic lifestyle and frequent hand-to-mouth survival also didn’t make him the best candidate for marriage.
“Everyone ready?” Big Jim called over his shoulder.
He was answered by a chorus of loud cheers from the group of almost twenty, which included two young girls in matching outfits who were impossible for Ryan to tell apart. He picked up the overturned crate and moved it out of the way. They’d need it again when they returned from the hayride.
He hadn’t required