Page 6 of The Wrangler Takes a Wife

Chapter Three

Amara

Amara could feel his eyes on her, but she wasn’t ready to go over to his table. All day she battled what she would do when she saw him again. Her first reaction to his proposal was, fuck no! What was the matter with him? Who proposed marriage in exchange for property? Which decade did he think they were living in?

Last night, when she woke up for the fourth time, she realised she hadn’t dismissed his proposal as pure foolishness. Amara was quick to blame her turn about on her sense of fairness. The Welches had been helping to tend the Johnson’s land since Chase’s grandfather was a boy. Willis Senior had promised her grandfather he could buy some of the land, and it had never come to fruition. Then his uncle had promised to right the wrong and leave the land to her brothers. Had he done it? No. Instead, Willis Johnson Jr. had found a nephew no one knew he had and left the land to him.

It was Willis Johnson’s land, and he could do whatever he wanted with it. However, he had made the Welches promises. The same Welch family who had cared for him when cancer ravished his body and stayed with him until he passed.

Amara had accepted it quickly. When her cousin Jo, who handled the probate, told her Chase might sell the land, Amara thought the land would finally go to her family. She hadn’t taken it well when he refused to sell. It had started a feud. Amara was tired of the Welches being screwed over by the Johnson family. Well, Chase was a Harrison, but he was a descendant. So same damned thing.

People had told her to let it go. It wasn’t like the Welches didn’t own any land. That wasn’t the damn point! The point was they had put blood, sweat, and tears into the Johnson land. She couldn’t do anything about it.

The only power she had was to ban him from her restaurant, so she did. Although, she kind of felt bad about it. Especially seeing the way he scarfed down his dinner with so much enthusiasm the night before. It made her think maybe she had taken things too far. She was certain if she tried to touch his plate, she would’ve pulled back a nub.

So far, Chase had only ordered a bowl of soup. She thought he would take advantage of his privilege of eating at the diner by ordering more.

“Rolynda, I’ll cash out Mr. Tanner. You can clock out.”

“Okay thank you. Before I go, are you going to tell me why you are letting Chase Harrison eat in here?” Rolynda was salivating at the chance of getting the tea.

“We will talk about it another time. Don’t you want to get home to your husband and sweet little boy?” It was the perfect distraction for Rolynda. The distraction would be temporary, but by then Amara would have figured out her next step.

Soon after Rolynda left, Mr. Tanner finally cashed out. The chef had gotten off an hour ago and went home. So now she and Chase were alone. He looked up at her and smiled. “I have to say that’s the best beef and vegetable soup I’ve ever had.”

They had been alone together the night before, but tonight felt different. There was a tension she didn’t appreciate that put her on edge. Amara didn’t like the foreign feeling. She sprung into action, clearing away the bowl. Her plan was to treat him like any other customer.

“Thanks. Can I get you something else?”

“I’ll have the special, or whatever, you’re having for dinner?”

What was the matter with him? Who did this sort of thing?“Did you just invite yourself to eat with me?”

He nodded. “We have a lot to plan.”

“Why do you sound like your ‘marriage scenario’ is a forgone conclusion?”

“Because it is.” God, he was arrogant! Of course, he wore it as confidence. Amara was about to reply, but then thought better of it. Turning on her heels, she headed to the kitchen. It didn’t take her long to prepare their meals. The food had been on a simmer since lunch. Amara had tried to convince herself she hadn’t been thinking of the big Wrangler when she prepared her dinner. However, that would be a lie. When was the last time she had gone all out on a Wednesday night? Well, he didn’t have to knowthat. Or that she took extra care when she plated their meals. Leaving it on the warmer, she pulled the butter rolls out of the oven. She couldn’t help but smile at the memory of how he had demolished the rolls the previous night.

Amara served their plates. Tonight, hunger didn’t have him abandoning his manners. He waited until she was seated and said a prayer before he even touched his utensils.

“This looks good. What do we have here, Sugar Plum?”

The nickname was like a record scratching. She was proud of the meal she’d prepared. When she cooked a good meal, it put her in good spirits. The nickname did not!

“Why are you calling me Sugar Plum?”

“I promised to come up with a sweet name for you. Is Sugar Plum off the list?”

“I don’t want you calling me Sugar anything.”

“That’s fair. All Sugar related names are off the list. How about Sweetums?”

“Do you want me to take your plate back into the kitchen?” Amara asked.

He raised his hands, shaking his head.

She knew he wasn’t taking her seriously, not while wearing the biggest grin she’d ever seen anyone display. “Because I wouldn’t pass up bison short ribs with root vegetables and roasted potatoes,” she informed him.

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