The Wrangler Takes a Wife (Silver Creek Ranch #7)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

C hase

The chime alerted the owner of Chase’s arrival as he pushed the diner’s door open.

“It’s two minutes until closing, whatever you want, you’re going to have to get it to go.” She conveyed her message with sternness despite her dulcet voice. Chase knew she wouldn’t sound so friendly if she knew it was him. Especially after refusing to serve him for the last three months. Willowridge was a small town, and the diner was the only decent place to get a good meal. The smells of the diner assailed him. It smelled like all your favourite meals and baked goods.

He decided not to respond. He was pretty certain Amara would hear his voice and tell him to leave her diner.

“Hello?” she called out.

Chase remained quiet. He didn’t venture into the restaurant. He stood by the door, waiting for her to appear. It was a mystery how she managed to be so unreasonable and ornery yet remain one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She was tall and thick, just the way he liked it.

“Oh, it’s you.” Her words made him feel like his existence was offensive. “What do you want, Wrangler?” Mind you, the woman knew his damn name but insisted on calling him wrangler. Normally, he wouldn’t mind. After all, that is who he was and what he did. It sounded more like a cuss word, based on the way she said it. In fact, the dirtiest. Chase wondered how dirty Ms. Amara Welch could get. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue or something?”

“Nope.” As he shook his head, he attempted to dislodge the X-rated thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Can I come in?”

Amara placed her hands on her ample hips and cocked her head. It didn’t take a genius to read her expression.

“I meant, can I come in and sit down?”

“Why?”

Chase sighed; he didn't think this would be easy. “I need some help?—”

“Now I know your ass is in the wrong place.”

She kissed her teeth.

“Amara, how about you hear me out before you reach a conclusion?”

She stared at him for what seemed like forever. Her large chocolate brown orbs bored into him. Chase stood his ground under her scrutiny.

“Fine. Come on in.”

He stepped inside. Amara walked past him and flipped her open sign to closed, then locked the door. Turning around to face him, she instructed, “go on, take a seat.”

“Anywhere?”

“Sure. You want something to drink? I have lemonade or iced tea.”

Chase took this as a good sign. “Lemonade would be nice.”

She nodded and disappeared through the swinging doors. Chase looked around the diner. The décor was a perfect mix between an old school 50s diner and a French bistro. It was his first time stepping foot into the warm, cozy space, since Amara essentially barred him from her establishment. Well, not barred him, as much as she refused to serve him.

Amara returned with two glasses. In front of him she placed one and across from him she placed the other.

“Okay. What do you need?” she huffed, taking her seat.

“I hope you and I can come to an arrangement.” Chase paused, gauging her reaction.

She arched a perfectly shaped brow at him, urging him to continue.

“I know you aren’t happy that my uncle left the land he promised your family to me, and that I’m not willing to sell the property.”

A bored expression blanketed her face, and she took a sip from her glass. He knew bringing it up would rile her, but he wanted all the cards on the table. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand where she was coming from. His uncle, a man he didn’t even know, and never met, had made a promise then failed to keep it. Well, Uncle Willis was no longer here, but Chase was. Consequently, he had to deal with her wrath.

“In our family, we learned early on not to promise Amara anything. Nothing gets her steaming mad more than a broken promise. It’s not like she can be mad at Mr. Willis. One, she loved him like an uncle. Two, he is gone, and he's left you to feel her wrath.”

“Is she ever going to ease up?” he asked her brother, Rodney.

“I’m afraid not. Amara Welch is the Queen of holding grudges.”

“I have a deal for you.” Chase selected his words carefully. He was aware this could go south, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Do tell,” she drawled.

“Let’s start with what I will give you.”

Amara took another sip of her lemonade and side eyed him as she loudly munched on the ice.

“I will give you fields 8 and 9 that border the Welch’s Ridge Ranch.”

She shifted in her seat, sitting up straighter. “And what do you want in return?”

Chase smiled internally. Amara was quick on her feet. She wouldn’t allow anyone to take advantage of her. If she agreed to this thing, she would enter the agreement with her eyes wide open. He didn’t do well with game playing, so he got straight to the point. “I need a wife.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, narrowing her eyes at him. “Well, you’re the most eligible bachelor in town. Your choices are endless.” Amara was a sharp woman.

Was she pretending not to get his meaning?

“Wait!”

Okay, here we go. She was using that big, sexy brain of hers.

“You want me to help you select a wife? Be your personal matchmaker?”

“No. I’ve already decided on who I want to marry.”

“Good for you. Why are you here?”

“I have chosen to marry you. Like I said, I’m making it worth your while.”

Her mouth opened, then shut. She huffed softly and picked up her glass. He noticed her long fingers and short manicured nails. No polish for her. Chase studied her hands. Her complexion reminded him of rich, dark roasted coffee. His inspection jumped to her eyes. They were trained on him. He liked the fire he saw there. Maybe a little too much. He lowered his eyes to her down-turned lips with the full pouty bottom.

Amara finished her lemonade, placed her glass on the table then chewed the ice.

“You came. You spoke. I think it’s time you go.” She moved to get up from her chair. Chase thought she would question him about his declaration, but he misjudged her.

“Wait!” he called.

“For what? You came into Willowridge, a place you never heard of, and inherited land from an uncle you never knew existed. After hearing about the land dispute, you refused to do the right thing and even entertain an offer. You hired my brothers to work the land that should have been theirs. If all of that wasn’t bad enough, you stopped by the audacity tree and picked it bare before coming in here asking me to marry you. You! A man I don’t know or like. But wait, there is more. You want me to marry you for the land that should have come to my family. Are you outta your damned mind?”

“No, not at all.”

Whew. Chase had never heard anyone suck their teeth for so long. “I’m not for sale, Chase Harrison.” She stood, then sat back down abruptly. Her long finger pointed at him. “Let me tell you, if I were for sale, the likes of you couldn’t afford me.”

While he understood the optics, he bristled at the thought he was trying to buy her. “Look, no one is trying to buy you. Think about it more like a dowry.”

“A dowry?” She sounded like she was chewing glass.

“Yes, I need a wife, and I am willing to give her a generous gift.” Of course, he would never mention it was his intention all along to gift the Welches that portion of land. This was the only upper hand he had to negotiate with her.

“Look, I worked all day, and I am starving.”

His stomach rumbled in agreement. Like Amara, he was hungry as well.

“I’m going to fix myself a plate…”

Oh, now that was a torture he wasn’t sure he deserved.

“…obviously I can’t sit and eat in front of you. So, just this once I’m going to fix you one too. Then I will hear you out. When you are finished, you will put this foolishness to bed and never breathe another word about it.” She stood and stared down at him. Was she waiting for an answer?

“Alright.” He nodded, and she returned it. Chase watched her walk away. The things her body was doing to the boot cut jeans. Her legs were not only long, but thick and shapely. The denim clung to her hips and displayed her lush bottom. He made note of the small gap above that sweet ass. It emphasised her narrow waist.

Well, at best, if he couldn’t talk her around, Chase would get a good meal out of this. Amara could cook her ass off. Everyone spoke about how good the food was at the diner. He had not been eating the best lately. If you could consider it eating. If he was being honest, what he had been consuming lately was worse than the rations he had when he was deployed. He couldn’t cook to save his life.

Chase had stocked up on canned beans, ham, and chicken. Oh, even his veggies came from the can. Bread and oatmeal. Amara’s diner was the only place you could eat for a couple hour’s drive. She had refused to serve him. The only other place to eat in Willowridge was the bar, and he wouldn’t take a chance to enter it. Once upon a time, he chose to bury his demons in bottles. So, it wasn’t an option he could afford.

Now it wasn’t to say he wasn’t offered food. Every eligible woman and their mommas were throwing meals at him. Some weren’t even single; they were just looking for an upgrade. What all those women had in common was the hope he would wife them up. They would leave food on his porch. He was tired of stepping over Tupperware, and ceramic dishes to get to the door.

The final straw came this morning when he found one of them in his kitchen, in an apron. He would like to think there was something under it, but he couldn’t be sure because he refused to look at her. Anyway, she was in the kitchen making hotcakes, eggs, and bacon. Like he had invited her crazy ass over. It was enough already! Chase had planned to speak to Amara for weeks, but he had been waiting for the right time. Well, today became the exact right time. He needed a woman to run these crazy chicks off. Amara would fill the bill and then some. People in these parts had more than a healthy respect for her. Some may call it fear. Whatever. Bottom line, he wanted to put an end to unwanted visitors and their gifts.

There was no way he would eat from those pushy women and tie himself to them. Only a fool would encourage one of those barracudas. He was no fool.

While he was lost in his thoughts, Amara came out with a pitcher of lemonade and utensils wrapped in napkins. “The food will be out in ten minutes.”

“Thanks.” When he was coming into the restaurant, the sign in the window said the daily special was shepherd’s pie. It was one of his favourites. People made it a variety of ways. He wondered if she put peas in it. The door swished open, and she returned, carrying a large tray. He stood to help. “It’s okay, I got this. If you try to take it, you’ll offset the balance and probably make everything fall.”

Chase was a grown man. He was an Army Ranger before he became a wrangler, then a rancher. Seeing the hearty, delicious meal in front of him almost brought him to tears. His ass was certain nothing on his plate of three thick slices of meat loaf, with mashed potatoes, green beans, and glistening sliced carrots came from a fucking can. The gravy had minced mushrooms in it. The aroma was mouth watering. He looked up from his plate to thank her, but his words failed him when he caught sight of the basket of rolls.

“Thank you,” Chase told her with heartfelt gratitude.

“You’re welcome.” She almost smiled at him. He didn’t have time to dwell on it. Grabbing his knife and fork, he paused over his plate. Where should he start? The potatoes? Damn so good. Chase knew he was groaning. It was delicious and creamy. Good as it was, it didn’t compare to the meatloaf. Sweet Jesus! What did she put in it? Chase was lost in his meal.

“Would you like me to leave you alone with your plate?” Amara teased. He could hear the laughter in her voice. “I mean, I know I can throw down in the kitchen, but you are having an unhealthy enjoyment of the food. Shit, I think I saw something like this on TLC.”

After chewing and swallowing what was in his mouth, he finally remembered he wasn’t a neanderthal. A rueful reply came from him. “You are underestimating your skill. I don’t think I’ve ever had meatloaf this good. What did you put in here?”

“If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.” Normally when people said the phrase, they didn’t look so serious. “I guess I will have to wait until you are finished eating before you have your say.”

His plate was more than half done and he was ready to stop or slow down eating. Once he saw his plate, he hadn’t glanced at hers, but she didn't appear to have eaten as much as he had. However, he was pretty sure her plate wasn’t as laden as his had been. His portion certainly wasn’t what she gave customers. If she did, Amara would be bankrupt by now.

Since she didn’t seem to mind, he went back to his meal.