One Husband Needed. Jeanne AllanЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Now’s not the right time. I’m sorry.”
For a moment Elizabeth could only stare at Worth, stunned at his interpretation of their kiss. “Right time for what? Kissing out in the middle of nowhere?”
A crooked smile of regret passed fleetingly over his mouth. “You know what I mean. I’m not ready to settle down, to make a long-term commitment, and you’re not a woman who’d accept anything less.”
Now he’d gone too far. “You’re warning me away from you? Are you so conceited you actually think I’ve fallen in love with you?”
“I’m just making sure we’re both clear on where we stand.”
His words failed to mollify her. “What makes you think you’re so wonderful that when a woman kisses you—” Elizabeth jabbed him in the chest with her finger “—you automatically assume she’s after your body or a wedding ring?”
Dear Reader,
Sitting in my red-wallpapered office, I’m surrounded by family photographs. I love seeing my husband as a baby, my father as an adolescent, and my daughter at age four holding her new baby brother.
For better or worse, we all have families. I didn’t plan to write about the Lassiter family, but as one character formed in my mind I realized I was dealing with all three Lassiter sisters—Cheyenne, Allie and Greeley. Then their older brother demanded his story be told, and who can say no to a sexy man like Worth Lassiter? What started out as one book had suddenly become four.
I hope you enjoy reading about the Lassiter family and the strong men—and woman!—who match them.
Love,
One Husband Needed
Jeanne Allan
For laughing Edith, with the snow-white hair.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
MISSION accomplished.
The slow-moving traffic ground to a halt on the road to the Denver International Airport. Sitting in the rented car, Worth Lassiter threw back his head and laughed. On this beautiful June afternoon nothing could disturb his good mood. “Well, Beau,” he said out loud, as if his long-dead father could hear him, “you dumped Mom and my sisters on me, told me to take care of them, and I did my best.”
He’d married off his three sisters to good, honest men, men he could trust, and in two weeks his mother would become Mrs. Russell Underwood. Russ was a good man who would treat Mary Lassiter the way she deserved to be treated.
A red-tailed hawk soared high overhead. The hawk had lived life more fully than Worth. Traveled more. Had more adventures.
Had more freedom.
Worth thought of the travel magazines stacked in his bedroom, the brochures in his office, and his spirits soared with the hawk.
His grandpa, Yancy Nichols, had taught him a man had to take care of his womenfolk. Worth had been taking care of his for as long as he could remember. For all intents and purposes, the Lassiter kids had been fatherless, supporting each other through thick and thin. Not for one second did Worth begrudge his mother and sisters the years he’d been responsible for their well-being.
Still…
He couldn’t stop grinning. The responsibility for his mother and sisters now belonged to other men.
Freeing Worth to do the things he’d longed to do for so many years.
Nobody to tie him down. Responsible for no one’s life but his own.
The hawk shrunk to a pin dot and disappeared in the clear blue sky.
No commitments.
Freedom. Adventure. Life with a capital L.
Worth could hardly wait to begin.
Flying from Lincoln, Nebraska to Aspen, Colorado with a thirteen-month-old baby wasn’t the brightest thing Elizabeth Randall had ever done. She wiped a tear from Jamie’s face and said in a soothing voice, “One more plane ride, sweetie, and then we’ll be there.”
There being a place called the Double Nickel Ranch outside of Aspen. A ranch belonging to a family named Lassiter.
In two weeks, Russ Underwood, Elizabeth’s father, would marry the matriarch of the Lassiter family, Mary Lassiter.
Coming to Colorado wasn’t easy for her, but Elizabeth couldn’t refuse to attend her father’s wedding. She knew Russ wanted to introduce her to his future bride and his bride’s family.
Russ had told Elizabeth all about the bride’s family. About the three perfect daughters who knew all there was to know about ranching and cows and horses. Daughters who were everything Elizabeth would never be. And the perfect son, an absolute paragon, a cowboy to top all cowboys. A man who could do no wrong in Russ’s eyes.
Unlike Elizabeth’s late husband, who’d rated somewhere below bread mold on Russ Underwood’s judgment scale.
The plane taxied up to the gate in Denver. The man sitting in the window seat next to Elizabeth gave her a dirty look and shot past into the crowded airliner aisle. She didn’t blame him. The last hour and twenty minutes must have seemed interminable to the man.
Elizabeth didn’t blame Jamie either. Her son preferred to approach life at his own speed and on his own terms. The combination of too many strangers, too much noise, too many new experiences, and forced confinement to his mother’s lap had overwhelmed her normally sweet-tempered son.
A short walk brought Elizabeth to the gate for the commuter flight to Aspen. With a half hour to spare, she put Jamie on the floor, giving him a brief spell of freedom. He quickly crawled to the nearest row of chairs and pulled himself up on short, stubby legs. Hanging on for dear life, her son made his way down the row of seats, looking back frequently to confirm his mother’s presence.
Giving Jamie a reassuring smile, Elizabeth dumped her two carry-on bags on the floor and sat, her back sagging wearily