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Lonetree Ranchers: Morgan
By Kathie DeNosky Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.
Copyright © 2003 Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.
All right reserved. ISBN: 0-373-76540-1
Chapter One
"What the hell do you think you're doing in here?"
In the process of building a fire in the big stone fireplace, Samantha Peterson jumped and spun around at the sound of the man's angry voice and the old wooden door slamming back against the wall. The biggest cowboy she'd ever seen stood like a tree rooted in the middle of the threshold. Lightning flashed outside behind him and every story she'd ever heard about the bogeyman flooded her mind.
His eyes were hidden by the wide brim of his black cowboy hat pulled down low on his forehead, but if the grim set of his mouth was any indication, he was not only the biggest cowboy she'd ever seen, he was also the angriest. He took a step forward at the same time a gust of wind whipped his long black coat around his legs. That's when Samantha noticed he held a rifle in one big gloved hand.
"I ... I'm ... ooh -" Samantha bent forward slightly, squeezed her eyes shut and groaned from the sudden tightness gripping her stomach.
"Good God, you're pregnant!" He sounded shocked.
Anger coursed through her. He'd scared the bejeebers out of her and all he had to say was, "You're pregnant?"
"Thank you for informing me ... of that fact," she said through clenched teeth. "I doubt that I'd ... have noticed otherwise."
"Are you all right?"
His voice sounded too close for comfort, but that was the least of Samantha's concerns. She had a feeling this wasn't one of the Braxton-Hicks contractions that she'd been experiencing for the past couple of weeks. It felt too different to be false labor. This felt like it might be the real thing. But that wasn't possible, was it? She still had three weeks before she reached her due date.
"No, I'm not all right," she said as the tight feeling decreased. Ready to give the man a piece of her mind, she straightened to her full height. "You scared the living daylights ..."
Her voice trailed off as she looked up - way up - at the man standing next to her. The sheer size of him sent a shiver of apprehension slithering up her spine and had her stepping away from him. The top of her head barely reached his chin. At five foot six, she wasn't an Amazon by any means, but she wasn't short either. But this man was at least ten inches taller and appeared to be extremely muscular.
"Look, I'm sorry I yelled," he said, his deep baritone sending another tremor through her that had nothing whatsoever to do with fear. "I expected to find one of the local teenage boys getting ready to throw one of his Saturday night beer busts."
"As you can see, I'm not a teenage boy." Samantha moved away a couple of extra steps. She needed to put more distance between them, in case a fast getaway was in order. At least, as fast as her advanced pregnancy would allow. "And I can assure you, I'm not getting ready to throw a drinking party."
His mouth curved up in a smile and he used his thumb to push the wide brim of his cowboy hat up, revealing the most startling blue eyes she'd ever seen. "Let's start over." He extended his big hand. "I'm Morgan Wakefield."
When she cautiously placed her hand in his, his fingers closed around hers and a warm tingle raced through her. As he stared at her expectantly, she had trouble finding her voice. "I'm, uh, Samantha Peterson," she finally managed as she tugged her hand from his.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Peterson."
"That's Ms. Peterson," Samantha corrected. "I'm not married."
His gaze traveled to her swollen stomach, then back to her face before he gave her a short nod. Had that been a hint of disapproval she'd detected in his expression just before he gave her a bland smile?
If so, that was just too darned bad. It was none of his business whether she was married or not.
As they continued to stare wordlessly at each other, the sound of dripping water drew their attention to the corner of the room. Hurrying into the kitchen, Samantha rummaged through the cabinets until she found a large pot.
When she returned to the living room, she shoved it under the steady stream of water pouring from the ceiling. "That's just great. Not even the roof on this place is in decent repair." She watched Morgan Wakefield's eyes narrow. "Why do you care if the roof leaks or not?" he asked slowly.
"I was hoping it would at least keep me dry tonight," she said, gazing at the rain water collecting in the pot.
"You're staying? Here? Tonight?"
"Yes. Yes. And yes," she said, smiling at his incredulous look. "I inherited it from my grandfather."
"You're Tug Shackley's granddaughter?"
Samantha nodded and walked over to the wide stone hearth to slowly lower herself to a sitting position. Another contraction was building, and making sure to keep her breathing deep and even, she focused on relaxing every muscle in her body.
When it passed, she looked up to find that Morgan had propped his rifle against the armchair and stood with his hands on his narrow hips. He was watching her as if he didn't quite know what to think. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes. I'll be fine just as soon as I have my baby," she said, reminding herself to stay calm, even though the baby was coming earlier than expected. "Do you happen to know where the nearest hospital is?"
If the widening of his vivid blue eyes was any indication, it had been the last thing he'd expected her to ask. "Oh hell, lady. You're not -"
"Yes, I am." She almost laughed at the horrified expression that crossed his handsome face. "Now, if you'll answer my question concerning the location of the nearest hospital, I'll get in my car and go have my baby."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Lonetree Ranchers: Morgan by Kathie DeNosky Copyright ©2003 by Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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