Chapter 3
As soon as the joking words were out, Beckett’s thoughts came to a jarring halt. He’d just been lamenting his lack of choices for a spouse.
Was Hyacinth the solution to his marriage dilemma?
From her spot by the garden gate, Hyacinth tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, but the breeze wrestled it free and flapped it back across her face.
Nope, she couldn’t be. They could hardly be around each other without fighting. Course, even if he did want to make a go of marriage with her, she’d never agree to it. Not when she loathed him so much.
On the other hand, his thirtieth birthday was fast approaching, and he was fresh out of options. He did meet her short list of qualifications. He was wealthy, independent, and could take care of her.
He hadn’t told anyone about his affluence, but the truth was, after getting the inheritance from his pa, he was already a multimillionaire.
He’d also had a steady flow of income into his bank account over the past seven years from Sargeant, who’d been fair about splitting the ranch’s revenue from the sales of oil and cattle.
Now Beckett stood to gain even more if he inherited Sargeant’s portion.
He had nothin’ to lose by marrying Hyacinth, did he?
He straightened, a sudden earnestness making his muscles tense. “I’m serious. Marry me.”
She released a scoff, but as she took in his expression—which was probably more solemn than she’d ever seen it—her soft laugh faded away.
“I need a wife by my thirtieth birthday.”
Her eyes rounded with surprise. “Says who?”
“Says the lawyer who’s handling my pa’s ranch partner’s will.
” In addition to no one knowing about his wealth, he also hadn’t told anyone he was half owner of one of the largest and most profitable ranches in the country.
He didn’t want anyone finding out and making a big deal of it.
Besides, it would dredge up a difficult past he was aiming to forget about.
She was silent for several heartbeats, studying his face as though trying to make sense of his statement. “Was your pa’s passing recent?”
Her question was unexpected, especially because it held a hint of compassion. He shook his head. “He died seven years ago, and the day couldn’t come fast enough.”
She continued to probe him with her bright green gaze.
Although he didn’t want to say too much, he had to offer her some sort of explanation if he had any chance of convincing her to marry him.
“My pa’s ranch partner is the one who died last summer.
He and his wife never had any children. So the whole ranch technically belongs to me—or will belong to me if I get married by my thirtieth birthday. ”
“If you don’t get married, then you lose it?”
“I’ll get to keep my pa’s half, but his partner’s half will go to his nearest of kin, a nephew who lives in England.
” If only he could buy out Richard’s half.
But neither Pa nor Sargeant had been able to buy out the other because the original contracts for the partnership had prevented either partner from being able to sell to anyone else, including each other.
The clause applied to future owners as well.
“Fact is,” he continued, trying to speak calmly, “I have to get married, and I don’t have a lot of time left to do it.”
“That’s why you made arrangements for the mail-order bride?”
“Yep.” The mail-order bride he’d sent away for last year had ended up coming early and accidentally marrying the local vet, Thatcher Hoyt.
By the time they’d all figured out there’d been a mix-up, it’d been too late to do anything about it, especially because the couple had already fallen in love.
It had been obvious from the moment Beckett had seen the two together that they were meant for each other.
But the mix-up had put him in a heap of trouble. There hadn’t been enough time to start the process of searching for another mail-order bride. Sending in an advertisement to the marriage magazines took time, as did the process of writing letters back and forth with potential bride candidates.
Instead of focusing his attention on another mail-order bride, he’d been aiming for a local woman who might be willing to get hitched. But in all his searching, he’d mostly come across older widows and women of ill repute. The pool of stellar single young women was slim pickings.
He blamed his pa for his aversion to commitment, especially after all the problems his pa had caused as a result of his carousing.
When Beckett had left the Double T at the age of twenty-two, he’d decided that women were more trouble than they were worth and that he’d steer clear of them.
He’d done mighty fine at that, if he could say so himself. Obviously too fine.
Hyacinth was smirking now. “I never took you for a mail-order bride fellow. So that makes a lot more sense now.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a no.” She pivoted, exited through the garden gate, and walked away with that sassy sway of hers.
He threw down his shovel and stalked after her. “Hold on. Don’t say no yet.”
“No,” she repeated louder.
“C’mon.” He caught up to her easily and matched his stride to hers. “My offer is better than Giles Gray’s.”
She snorted. “It’s not anything near his.”
Beckett’s mind spun with her shallow list of qualifications for Giles. “I’m wealthy, independent, and can take care of you.”
“Your idea of wealthy and mine must be vastly different.”
Halfway across the soggy yard, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her arm and halting her.
She glanced at his hand on her sleeve and then shrugged him off.
“My family’s ranch . . . well, it’s one of the largest and wealthiest in Texas. With my inheritance from my pa, I have Giles beat by a mile. Pretty soon, I’ll have even more.”
Beckett didn’t actually know how rich Giles was. But the Double T had more cattle and oil wells on the land than the rest of Texas combined.
She cocked her head at him. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You accusing me of lying?”
A snowflake drifted down and landed on her nose.
They were in for a big storm tonight with lots of snow. That meant he and the fellas would be busy keeping the cattle safe and calm. It would be a long night. But thankfully, this time of year, the snow never lasted long.
“Even if you are wealthy,” she said grudgingly, “I don’t want to stay here on the ranch.”
“I have to travel to Texas with my wife and prove that I’m married. Then when we get back, I’ll build you a real nice big house wherever you want.”
She paused and chewed at her bottom lip.
Was she contemplating his offer?
His pulse gave a strange kick. Did he actually want her?
Naw, he was just getting excited that he might finally have a marriage option.
She glanced to the east at the Bald Mountain range, the peaks still covered in deep layers of snow. The thick pine trees looked almost black against the low clouds that were drawing near.
Holy smokes. She was thinking about marrying him.
Never in a hundred lifetimes would he have expected her to give the idea a single thought. But maybe she knew he was a better prospect than Giles. “Let me reassure you that I can give you kids.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “No reassurance necessary.”
“I can also reassure you that I have no trouble performing—”
“Stop.” She jolted away from him like a hare escaping a hound. “You’re a crass and indecent monster.”
“That’s not fair,” he called after her. “It’s okay for Giles to speak frankly, but when I do, I’m a monster?”
“Yes.”
He released an exasperated breath. “But you’ll still consider the proposal?”
“No, Beckett,” she replied over her shoulder. “I’m not marrying you.”
“I know you want to. Just admit it, you want me.” Now why had he gone and said a thing like that? Even if it was his usual way of interacting with her, doing so today would only stir the pot and make her less willing to marry him.
She reached the back door of the house, which led into the kitchen. As she opened it, she paused on the threshold and tossed him a contemptuous look. “Even if you were the last man on earth, I still would not marry you.”
With that, she stepped inside and slammed the door behind her.
He palmed the back of his neck. Well, dad-blame-it.
He’d just ruined his chance with her. Not that he’d really had much of a chance to begin with, but he’d hammered a nail in the coffin now.
If he were a begging man, he might try to approach her again when she had the opportunity to think about it a little more.
But he wasn’t a begging man and never would be.