Bedded Then Wed by Heidi Betts

help, honey, do you mind if Mitch and I step outside for a few minutes?”
    Mitch was a little surprised by the request, but judging by the friendly expression on the older man’s face, he didn’t think Emma’s father planned to take him out to the barn and shoot him. At least he hoped not.
    “No, I’m fine,” she told them, piling dishes into the sink and running hot water over them. “You two go ahead. But no smoking, all right?” She shot her father a warning look. “I mean it, Pop. Mitch, don’t let him light one of those filthy cigars.”
    Wyatt winked at Mitch, his blue eyes twinkling as he pushed to his feet. “A man can’t have any fun around here,” he pretended to grumble.
    Mitch didn’t know that he would agree with that statement. Considering the number of times in the past few weeks that he and Emma had sneaked out to the barn or up to her room when her father wasn’t around, he could reliably say a man could have a great deal of fun around this place.
    But he didn’t think it would be very smart to point that out to Wyatt. Not when he was doing his damnedest not to let the man know he was sleeping with his daughter.
    Emma, up to her elbows now in sudsy water, shook her head but chose not to respond to her father’s complaint.
    The legs of Mitch’s chair scraped the floor as he got up and followed Wyatt onto the front porch. The older man took a seat on the solid wooden swing to one side of the kitchen door and pulled a plump brown stogie from his front shirt pocket. He ran the cigar under his nose, inhaling deeply, then tucked it away again with a sigh of regret.
    “A couple of puffs after dinner, that’s my limit. But she worries about me, so most of the time all I get to do is sniff the damn thing.”
    Moving to a spot in front of Wyatt, Mitch leaned back against the porch railing, feet crossed at the ankle, hands resting on either side of his hips.
    After several more minutes passed in silence, he said, “You wanted to talk to me, sir?”
    “Yes. Yes, I did.”
    Wyatt slapped his hands down on his knees and rose to his feet, coming to stand beside Mitch, facing the other direction.
    “Emma is my pride and joy, you know that.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “And I worry about her, just as much as she worries about me.”
    “Yes, sir,” Mitch murmured again, not sure where this conversation was headed.
    “I worry especially about what will happen with her after I’m gone.”
    It took a moment for that to sink in, and when it did, Mitch’s gut clenched. “Is something wrong, Mr. Davis? Are you sick?” He couldn’t quite bring himself to ask if the man was dying, but that was the message flashing across the front of his brain.
    “Hell, no,” Wyatt denied firmly. “Healthy as an ox, according to the doctor. But I’m not getting any younger, and accidents happen. There’s no telling how long any of us will get to be on this earth. And when my time comes, I’d like to know my girl is taken care of.”
    Mitch’s breathing had returned to normal, but his heart was still beating just a little faster than it should. “I can understand that.”
    “That’s where you come in.”
    One eyebrow lifted in curiosity. “Excuse me?”
    “I’ve got a proposition for you, my boy.” Wyatt twisted to face him more fully and slapped him on the arm. “Emma’s an only child, and as sexist as it might sound, I don’t have any sons to deed this land to when I die. My girl loves this place and is great at helping me out with the business end of things, but she won’t want to run the ranch after I’m gone.”
    Mitch made a noncommittal noise, still not sure what Wyatt was getting at.
    “Our families have always been close, you and Emma grew up together, and your land borders ours. So I’ll come right out and say what I’m thinking, Mitch. I’d like you to marry my daughter.”
    He blinked, stunned into speechlessness. Where his heart had been running a bit too fast only minutes before, it now