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And he was willing to marry her to have her.
After twenty-two loveless years, she faced two offers of marriage.
One fairly honorable, at the same time a bit insulting. One not honorable at all, though the thought of occupying Garth Mackenzie’s bed had its own allure.
One man offered her a life of intellectual stimulation. The other probably didn’t even own a book, but he made her heart go pitter-pat and his kisses seared her soul.
Neither had offered her love.
She’d waited twenty-two years for a proposal of marriage. Was it time to give up on love?
The soft rapping on the door brought her dueling wits to an end, thank goodness. Too much to think about.
She opened the door, and a maid brought in a tray and set it on the little table next to the bureau.
“Breakfast, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” Ruth gave the woman a coin from her reticule, and then went to wake Mary Alice.
The little girl opened her eyes. “Pa?” she asked timidly.
“He’s fine, sweetie. He’s asleep in the next room, so we must be quiet so we don’t wake him. He’s had a rough night. But he saved the farm.”
Mary Alice’s lips curved into a sad smile. She didn’t move.
“Aren’t you going to get up? Breakfast is here, and you didn’t eat much last night. You need a good meal.”
“No. I don’t want any, thank you. I’m…not feeling well.”
Ruth touched her lips to the girl’s forehead. She was cool to the touch.
“You don’t seem to be feverish. Are you nauseated?”
“A little. My tummy hurts.”
“You’re probably just hungry, dear. You haven’t been eating well.” Ruth uncovered her gently. “Getting out of bed will make you feel better. I promise. Come on, now.”
“No, I can’t, Miss Blackburn. I don’t want to get up. It hurts to get up. I just want to sleep today. Please.”
Ruth’s neck prickled. Something wasn’t right. “I’ll get your pa, Mary Alice.”
“You don’t have to wake him.”
“If you’re ill, I certainly do have to wake him. I’ll be right back.”
Ruth strode toward the adjoining door, opened it, and whisked into the other room. Land sakes. Rays of sunshine streamed through the open curtains and illuminated the strong muscular contours of Garth Mackenzie’s naked body.
Golden and perfect, he lay across the bed, his arms hugging the white pillow and his blond locks splayed across the cotton sheeting. Pure masculinity. Thankfully, he was on his side, his legs tangled around the sheets, hiding his male member. Her gaze dropped to his taut buttocks, and then to his powerful legs dusted with golden hair.
But now wasn’t the time to ogle his perfection. No. Mary Alice needed her pa.
She walked to the side of the bed and clamped her hand on his sleek shoulder. Like solid marble, only hot instead of cool to the touch. Not the time. “Garth!” Her whisper was urgent.
No response.
She shook his shoulder gently, and then not so gently. “Garth, wake up! I need you!”
His bronze eyes opened, and he jerked. “Ruthie? You all right?”
