Sweethearts in South Dakota: At the Altar, #14

By Kirsten Osbourne

Willa Griffin has always known that one day it would be her responsibility to run her grandfather's ranch—it's all she's trained for or ever wanted. When her grandfather dies, and his will says she will lose the ranch if she doesn't marry within a month, she finds a matchmaker through a Google search and immediately calls her. Willa thinks carefully and decides she wants a city-slicker for a husband—a man who will have no ability and no desire to run a ranch.
After selling his share of his public relations firm, Ryder Pearce is at loose ends. He wants to go west, but he doesn't know what he'll do there. He has the money to do many things, but he has no real purpose. After a phone call from his client, Dr. Lachele, he decides to take the plunge and marry the woman she has in mind for him. It sounds like the perfect solution to him. When he meets Willa, he doesn't know how they're going to make things work. The attraction is there, but she's so stubborn about everything. Will this unlikely pair be able to figure out how to make their marriage work? Or will they be Dr. Lachele's first failed match?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Unlimited Dreams
• Release date: Nov 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393547457

Book preview

Chapter One

A steady rainfall pattered against the canopy covering the gravesite in her family’s small cemetery plot as the preacher from Deadwood said the words that made Willa Griffin’s grandfather’s death final. Still, she didn’t cry. Her grandfather, a brawny, tough-talking old man, would have cuffed her upside the head and told her to knock it off, and old habits did die hard. She’d started tearing up at his bedside once toward the end of his illness, and he’d bawled her out so bad, she’d quit immediately, afraid he’d give himself a stroke. But, in the end, cancer had gotten him.

She looked away from the coffin and across the land that had been in her family for generations. In the distance, a huge herd of Black Angus grazed on the hillside, the bread and butter of the Circle G Ranch. She loved every bit of the nine-hundred acres of rolling property in the Black Hills of South Dakota, and now, it was up to her to keep things going. They hadn’t talked about it before the cancer took him, but she was sure that was what her grandfather would have wanted. He’d raised her to know everything she’d need to know to take over someday.

As the preacher finished, the cowboys that worked her family’s land filed past her one by one, shaking her hand, giving her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, or just nodding respectfully, their hats clutched in their hands. She held it together until Brodie, her ranch foreman, came along last in line.

You okay, Will? he asked, his handsome face concerned, his brown eyes sad. Brodie had been with the Circle G for the last fifteen years, ever since she was a scrawny ten-year-old with a huge crush. That crush had mellowed into a friendship—her only close one—and she loved Brodie like a brother.

She nodded and pushed a damp strand of hair back from her face. Clearing her throat, she said, If you can get the stock moved to the new pasture this afternoon, I’d appreciate it. I’ve got some paperwork to deal with.

Brodie nodded. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and followed the rest of the ranch hands back toward the barns. He knew her better than to suggest she take the afternoon off.

Willa turned to thank Pastor Heiland. I’m here for you, Willa, the short, pudgy man said kindly, wiping rain from where it threatened to run down the back of his collar. The whole congregation is, and we’re just a phone call away.

She nodded her thanks, not trusting herself to speak.

We’d love to see you back at church, whenever you feel up to it.

She just nodded again. She hadn’t been to church since her grandma had passed away when she was five years old. She believed in God, but, like her grandfather, she’d rather worship Him out here on horseback in the Black Hills, where she felt closest to heaven.

Forget the paperwork, she thought as the preacher’s truck rattled away, and she tugged her wide-brimmed hat down firmly over her head. She’d saddle up Star and go ride the fences. She could use a little time with Him today.

The next morning, Willa was feeling more settled when Franklin Dowling, her grandfather’s lawyer, came by with a copy of her grandfather’s will. The settled feeling didn’t last long.

"He said what?" she roared, pushing her chair back from her grandfather’s big antique desk so hard that it banged against the wall.

Dowling, not a small man himself, cowered back a little in his chair when Willa drew herself angrily up to her full height of five-feet eight-inches, her black eyes flashing fire. Just now, she looked exactly like old man Griffin when he had his dander up, he thought.

Now, Willa, he said, holding up a hand, but she interrupted.

"Don’t you ‘now, Willa’ me, Franklin. I know this ranch inside out and upside down. How dare he say I need to hitch myself to a man just to run it!"

But those were the terms of Richard Griffin’s will, and he’d made it clear he didn’t want Willa to run the ranch. His granddaughter had to marry within thirty days of his death if she wanted to keep it, and if she failed to do so, it would go to his cousin’s son Justin. Justin was a no-account loser in his twenties with a string of misdemeanors, and worse, he couldn’t tell a Hereford from a hole in the ground.

After Dowling had left, Willa read the lines again, written in her grandfather’s familiar bold, blocky handwriting. Willa needs to marry within thirty days or she loses the ranch. Women are meant for birthing babies, not running cattle.

Like heck I’m just going to hand the Circle G over to someone else, old man, she muttered to the empty room and booted up her laptop. I can run things just as well as you or great-grandad did. Pulling up Google, she typed in professional matchmakers. After a few moments, Willa let out a whoop. Matchrimony, huh? Dr. Lachele, she said to the picture of a grinning, purple-haired woman on the web page, You’ve got yourself a new customer.

*****

Willa knew the matchmaker as soon as she saw her waiting at the gate of the Rapid City International Airport. Lachele was small and curvy, and her purple hair and her obviously tailored New York suit made her look a little out of place, but her smile was as warm and friendly as her hug—though she called it a boobie bump.

So, this is South Dakota! I could see the mountains when we flew in. Those must be your famous Black Hills. How far away is your ranch? I hope it’s not too close—I want to take in some scenery and maybe snap some pictures to show Sam.

We’ve got about a forty-five-minute drive, Willa assured her when Dr. Lachele stopped for air. And to think, she’d been worried about an awkward, silent car ride with a stranger.

By the time they reached the Circle G, Willa felt like she knew everything there was to know about Lachele. The woman hadn’t stopped talking since she’d landed, but instead of being annoyed by the chatter, Willa soaked it all in. It had been so long since she’d been around another female, she’d forgotten how much fun it could be. Mrs. Hollis, her father’s part-time housekeeper, didn’t count. She didn’t speak much, except to give orders.

Ooh, Lachele gasped, jumping out of the truck. Is this your ranch? It’s beautiful!

Willa watched her excitement with a smile, retrieving Lachele’s wheeled purple suitcase from the bed of the truck. The woman sure did have a thing for purple. Come on in the house, she offered.

Willa was proud of the sprawling single-story home. Glowing pine floors, soft yellow walls, overstuffed leather couches with brightly colored pillows, potted plants and Native American artwork here and there, some of it her great-grandmother’s, made the home feel warm and welcoming. It was a little lonely for one person, though.

But not for long. She’d have to share it with a husband soon. The nervous butterflies that immediately started up in her belly had Willa straightening her spine. Let me show you to your room, and then we can get this thing started.

Soon, the two of them were settled in the living room with plates of sandwiches and cookies Mrs. Hollis had made up that morning.

I know we spoke some on the phone but tell me more about why you want to get married so quickly and in such a non-traditional way, Dr. Lachele asked after wiping a chocolate chip smudge from the corner of her mouth and leaning back with a contented sigh. Don’t you have lots of cute cowboys out here to choose from?

Willa smiled wryly. "That’s exactly what I don’t want. A cowboy. She explained the terms of her grandfather’s will. Literally the only thing I’m interested in is a man who knows nothing about ranching and won’t try to take my place here."

Lachele frowned. I’m not sure I can help you after all, then. I’m not in the business of making mergers, I’m in the business of making marriages. Love, romance, a lifetime commitment . . . a happily ever after. Don’t you have any interest in any of that?

Willa held back the quick ‘no’ that jumped to her lips and tried to give the question some honest thought. She just knew Dr. Lachele would be able to tell if she wasn’t fully truthful, by the searching look the woman was giving her. Lachele was a trained psychologist. Willa spoke slowly. I’m not opposed to a traditional marriage. I was raised in faith, and I do believe a man and woman can be partners and helpmates, but I don’t know if I would be any good at marriage. She jumped to her feet and paced restlessly in front of the big bay window that faced the barns and the hills. I don’t remember my mom. I have few memories of my grandma. My entire life is here. She swept her arm out. I spend my days on horseback or balancing books or pitching hay, not primping and fussing and . . . being a girl. I don’t know how to be girly, much less wifely. I can’t cook, I don’t own any makeup, and I’ve never even been around kids. How do I know if I’d like them? When would I have time to raise them? The cattle don’t take days off and I couldn’t, either.

Lachele studied Willa’s face long enough, her brows drawn together in thought, that Willa began to feel uncomfortable. Sit down, honey, she finally said kindly, patting the couch beside her. You may not know what you want, but I think I can find you exactly what you need.

*****