Read The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2) Online
Authors: Linda Lael Miller
The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2)
The women of Bliss County have a pact—to find husbands. The right husbands.
One already has: Hadleigh Stevens, who married rancher Tripp Galloway a few months ago. Now Melody Nolan thinks it’s
her
turn. Melody has recently found success as a jewelry designer, and her work is the focus of her life. She’s not exactly unhappy, but she wants more. She’s always been attracted to Spence Hogan, the local chief of police, but she’s convinced that Spence, a notorious charmer, isn’t what you’d call
husband material
.
Spence is a good cop who isn’t scared of anything—except love. And he’s done everything he can to preserve his reputation as a womanizer—a reputation that keeps marriage-minded women, including Melody, at bay. And yet…there’s something about Melody he can’t forget. Something his heart can’t ignore.
Praise for
The Marriage Pact
by #1
New York Times
bestselling author
Linda Lael Miller
“Miller has found a perfect niche with charming western romances and cowboys who will set readers’ hearts aflutter. Funny and heartwarming,
The Marriage Pact
will intrigue readers by the first few pages. Unforgettable characters with endless spunk and desire make this a must-read.”
—RT Book Reviews
“This is a solid foundation for this new series by one of my favorite authors. The secondary characters rounded out the story with humor and give the reader an introduction to characters we are sure to meet again in the future.”
—Romancing the Book
“Miller treads familiar ground with her detailing of close-knit small town life, developed characters, sweet romance, and a hint of cowboy excitement.”
—Publishers Weekly
“I really loved this story. I laughed, cried and had several
aww
moments.”
“With her signature complex and well-developed characters, breathtaking scenery and well-written and told stories, she transports me to each locale and event. Her characters are true to life and could easily be your own neighbors and friends.”
—Love Romances and More
“Fans of Linda Lael Miller will fall in love with
The Marriage Pact
and without a doubt be waiting for the next installments, which will feature Hadleigh’s friends. Miller gives a little hint, just enough to whet my appetite, as to where one of the next storylines will go. There are the requisite pets, for without them this would not qualify as a true Linda Lael Miller book. Her ranch-based westerns have always entertained and stayed with me long after reading them.”
—Idaho Statesman
The Marriage Charm
Linda Lael Miller
I want to welcome you back to Bliss County, Wyoming! Mustang Creek, the heart of this county, is the kind of small town that appeals to people everywhere—with the kinds of friends and neighbors we all want. And, like most towns in Wyoming, it’s surrounded by some of the most beautiful country anywhere. The mountains and forests and rivers of Wyoming are still pristine, still wild, always majestic. It’s a landscape that defines people, becomes part of them.
That’s how it is with the characters in this trilogy.
The Marriage Pact
introduced the three friends (Hadleigh, Becca—known as Bex—and Melody). Over the course of these stories, each woman finds the man she’s meant to be with. In the first two stories she has a history with him that sometimes gets in the way. For Hadleigh, that man is Tripp Galloway, and for Melody it’s Spencer Hogan. (And as far as Bex goes, you’ll have to wait and see!)
The West and romance are two of my favorite themes, especially when I can bring them together. And friendship, which I’ve explored in all three stories, is another one. Needless to say, the role of animals in my characters’ lives (and in my life and maybe yours) is also of huge importance to me. There’s nothing like the unconditional love of an animal. You’ll see that with Spence and his dog, Harley, as well as his horse, Reb. Then there’s Melody and her cats, Ralph, Waldo and Emerson. Neither of these people would be who they are,
what
they are, without the animals who share their households and their lives.
Oh, I should mention that I’m also interested in art—appreciating it and making it—just like Melody. Jewelry especially. Among many other things, Melody created the charms that commemorate the marriage pact these three friends entered into in the previous book.
I hope you’ll enjoy Melody’s story as she comes to realize that her first instincts about Spence Hogan were right all along. Spence is now the police chief of Mustang Creek, and he typifies everything that’s most admirable about the men and women who protect us and keep us safe.
Please visit my website, LindaLaelMiller.com, to check out my upcoming books, read my blog and, of course, leave your own comments.
Happy reading! And happy trails to you. (This will make sense later in the book…)
With love,
For Bill Francis and Renae Kinsey,
two of the best friends I’ve ever had, with love and thanks.
Contents
After the wedding...
M
OST OF HIS
duties as his buddy Tripp’s best man complete, Spencer “Spence” Hogan ducked out of the reception, held in the library’s community room, as soon as the bride and groom left the scene, both of them beaming with just-married joy and understandably eager to get the honeymoon underway.
It was a five-minute drive to the police station. Once there, Spence strode through the small lobby without sparing more than a nod of greeting for Junie McFarlane, the second-shift dispatcher, or either of the two duty officers chatting her up.
Inside his modest office, he wasted no time swapping out the rented tux and shiny lace-up shoes for the well-worn jeans, blue cotton shirt and everyday boots he’d stashed there earlier in the day. He took his hat from the hook next to the door, put it on and then, feeling like his normal self instead of somebody’s pet monkey, Spence allowed himself a sigh of pure relief.
Out front again, he surveyed the goings-on.
The deputies, Nick Estes and Moe Radner, were back at their desks, focusing intently on pretty much nothing in particular and fairly radiating the Protestant work ethic. Both were rookies, their hair buzz-cut, their uniforms so starched that the fold lines still showed, their badges buffed to a high shine.
Junie caught Spence’s gaze and smiled slightly. She was just this side of forty and beautiful, in a country-music diva way. Mercifully, though, she went easy on the makeup, at least when she was on the job, saving the big hair, false eyelashes, sprayed-on jeans and rhinestones for her nights off. “How’d the wedding go, Chief?” she asked, with a twinkle in her green eyes. “Did Hadleigh Stevens manage to get herself married for real this time around, or did some yahoo show up and derail the whole shindig?”
Like Spence, Junie had attended the
other
ceremony, by now a local legend, right up there with the bank robbery back in 1894 and the time Elvis and his entourage breezed through town in a convoy of limos, somewhere in the mid-1950s, reportedly on their way to Yellowstone.
Spence chuckled. “Yep,” he confirmed, recalling the almost-wedding, just over a decade before. Tripp Galloway had been the yahoo-of-record, and Hadleigh had been the bride, eighteen, storybook-beautiful, naive as hell and in dire need of rescue, although she’d raised some spirited objections that sunny September afternoon. The ousted groom, well, he’d been the personification of Mr. Wrong. Otherwise known as Oakley Smyth.
Tripp, a man on a mission, had blown into that little redbrick church like a dust devil working itself up into a full-scale tornado, moments before the
I do
s would’ve been exchanged, calmly announced that he could give the proverbial just cause why these two could not be joined in holy matrimony and proceeded to do so.
Understandably, Hadleigh hadn’t taken Tripp’s interference at all well; in fact, she’d pitched a memorable fit and whacked him hard with her bridal bouquet, not once, but repeatedly, scattering flower petals every time she made contact.
There was no reasoning with her.
Finally, Tripp had lifted Hadleigh off her feet, slung her over one shoulder like a feed sack and carried her out of the sanctuary.
At that point, Hadleigh’s protests had escalated considerably, of course, and she’d kicked and squirmed and yelled all the way back down the aisle, through the main doors and outside, into a world of much wider possibilities. Most likely, she hadn’t been aware of that last part, being in a royal tizzy and everything.
For all Hadleigh’s outrage, no one had interceded—not the preacher, not Alice Stevens, Hadleigh’s grandmother and last living relative, not the stunned guests jamming the pews. Nobody moved a muscle, and nobody spoke up, either.
And that was a peculiar thing in itself, given the nature of small towns in general and Mustang Creek in particular. There, folks didn’t hesitate to get involved when there was a ruckus, the way they might in a big city. No, sir. These were country people; the men were cowboys and farmers, carpenters and electricians, truck drivers and garage mechanics, sure to wade in and fight if the need arose—and the women, when sufficiently riled, could be fierce, with or without their men to back them up, alone or running in a pack.