Hannah Gets A Husband

The soft cotton molded her breasts with loving faithfulness, something she didn’t seem to realize. Nor did she seem to realize there were worn places in the fabric that made it damn near transparent.

Don’t stare, he reminded himself.

A gentleman would keep his eyes directed elsewhere. More importantly, he didn’t want to find Hannah attractive, not in that way. He didn’t trust his judgment when love and sex were involved.

A marriage based on friendship was a much safer bet. Hannah might not be his type romantically, but she was definitely a friend. They could be together, just like when they were kids.

“So…” he said slowly, “how about marrying me?”

Bridal Fever:

Three partners find their bachelor days numbered when the Alaskan nights get long and lonely….

Callie, Get Your Groom (SR#1436)

Hannah Gets a Husband (SR#1448)

Jodie’s Mail-Order Man (SR#1460)

Dear Reader,

International bestselling author Diana Palmer reprises her SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE miniseries with Mercenary’s Woman. Sorely missed, Rita Rainville returns to Romance with the delightful story of a Too Hard To Handle rancher who turns out to be anything but…. Elizabeth August delivers the dramatic finale to ROYALLY WED. In A Royal Mission, rescuing kidnapped missing princess Victoria Rockford was easy for Lance Grayson. But falling in love wasn’t part of the plan.

Marie Ferrarella charms us with a Tall, Strong & Cool Under Fire hero whose world turns topsy-turvy when an adorable moppet and her enticing mom venture into his fire station…. Julianna Morris’s BRIDAL FEVER! rages on when Hannah Gets a Husband—her childhood friend who is a new dad. And in Her Sister’s Child, a woman allies with her enemy. Don’t miss this pulse-pounding romance by Lilian Darcy!

In June, we’re featuring Dixie Browning and Phyllis Halldorson, and in coming months look for new miniseries from many of your favorite authors. It’s an exciting year for Silhouette Books, and we invite you to join the celebration!

Happy reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

Hannah Gets a Husband

Julianna Morris

MILLS & BOON

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To all my friends in Tulare

Books by Julianna Morris

Silhouette Romance

Baby Talk #1097

Family of Three #1178

Daddy Woke Up Married #1252

Dr. Dad #1278

The Marriage Stampede #1375

~Callie, Get Your Groom #1436

~Hannah Gets a Husband #1448

JULIANNA MORRIS

has an offbeat sense of humor, which frequently gets her into trouble. She is often accused of being curious about everything…her interests ranging from oceanography and photography to traveling, antiquing, walking on the beach and reading science fiction. Choosing a college major was extremely difficult, but after many changes she earned a bachelor’s degree in environmental science.

Julianna’s writing is supervised by a cat named Gandalf, who sits on the computer monitor and criticizes each keystroke. Ultimately, she would like a home overlooking the ocean, where she can write to her heart’s content—and Gandalf’s malcontent. She’d like to share that home with her own romantic hero, someone with a warm, sexy smile, lots of patience and an offbeat sense of humor to match her own. Oh, yes…and he has to like cats.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter One

Bong, bong, bong.

The bell in the tiny church tower rang three times, announcing the end of the wedding ceremony.

Hannah Liggett leaned her elbows on the cash register and sighed. Those bongs meant it was official—she was the last single woman in Quicksilver, Alaska.

Single, as in spinster.

Ten Penny Alice was marrying Joe Dobkins—bride and groom were both in their nineties. Hannah didn’t know how Ten Penny had gotten her name, but she suspected it had something to do with the bawdy house Ten Penny once owned.

“I wonder if the bride wore white?” Hannah mused aloud, an aching sensation tugging at her heart. It wasn’t envy, but she couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever fall in love and get married herself. Of course, she’d been too busy raising her brothers to look for a husband, but that didn’t mean she’d stopped thinking about it.

“Don’t feel s’bad,” called Toby Myers, one of the old sourdoughs who always hung around the restaurant. “I’ll marry up with ya.”

Hannah lifted the coffeepot and walked to his table. “I don’t know about that. You know what they say about getting married in Alaska…the odds are good, but the goods are odd.”

He chuckled as she poured another cup of coffee. It wasn’t the strong stuff he really wanted—Toby’s doctor had ordered absolutely no caffeine, so she was secretly substituting decaf. So far, he hadn’t noticed the difference.

The bell over the door jangled and Hannah glanced up, surprised. She didn’t expect the guests to arrive for another few minutes; when the bride and groom were ninety-two and ninety-five respectively, it took a while to get places.

“Hi, Hannah. Remember me?” a man asked, shifting the child he held in his arms.

Hannah stepped closer so the newcomer wasn’t silhouetted against the late-afternoon light. Her eyes opened wider.

It was Ross McCoy, but not the lanky teenager who’d left Quicksilver nearly seventeen years ago. This Ross was six foot two, with broad shoulders and a trim, powerful body that oozed masculine sensuality. Potent. Small lines fanned the corners of his deep blue eyes, topped by black hair with a few glints of silver.

Shocked by the feminine awareness running through her body, she stared at the child he carried, then at Ross again. They had the same hair and eyes, the same strong chin and direct way of looking at you. They looked so much alike there was no doubt they were father and son.

“Have I changed that much?” Ross murmured.

“Ross?” Hannah whispered.

“Yup.” He grinned his slow, warm grin. “Well, Honeycomb? Where’s that hug you always used to give me?”

The familiar nickname and smile made Hannah’s eyes swim with unaccustomed tears. “I…uh….” She shrugged and sniffed in embarrassment.

Ross put his son down on a chair and closed the distance between them. He lifted his hand and stroked a damp track on her cheek. “Hey, what’s all this? You don’t cry.”

“Nothing. I’m just glad to see you.”

“Same here, Honeycomb.”

He gave her a quick, tight hug and Hannah drew an unsteady breath. Some things might have changed, but she was still “Honeycomb” to Ross, the nickname he’d given her when they’d gleefully found an old tree filled with bees and honey, only to be chased away by a territorial bear.

It was just like him to show up when she was a little lost and at odds with herself during this wedding excitement. Despite the years she’d spent riding herd on six younger brothers, she still dreamed of becoming a mother. Of course, that required a husband, and men didn’t seem to find her particularly desirable.

Jeez, that was depressing—even more depressing than never having a family of her own. Most of the time Hannah tried not to think about the lack of romance in her life, but the fuss over Ten Penny finally getting married was a constant reminder.

“Think I’ll be headin’ out,” said Toby.

Hannah blinked and motioned to the pink streamers adorning the room. “Aren’t you staying for the party, Toby? There’s lots of food.”

“Nope…gotta get going. I’m organizin’ the chivaree for Joe and Ten Penny, so I need to get ever’thing fixed up for it.” The door closed behind him, leaving an overwhelming silence.

Ross lifted his eyebrows. “A chivaree?”

Hannah tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged again. Ordinarily she didn’t pay much attention to her appearance, yet this was one day she wished she could have worn something besides her usual jeans and shirt. The last time Ross had seen her, she’d been a flat-chested fifteen-year-old, trying to make her youngest brother eat green peas without spitting them in her hair. Maybe she didn’t have any illusions about being beautiful, but it would have been nice to look her best.

“You probably don’t remember,” she murmured. “It’s an old custom. The men ‘serenade’ the bride and groom on their wedding night, making noise and keeping them from…er, getting amorous.”

“I remember, but Joe and Ten Penny are pretty old for that sort of thing.”

“It’s all in fun, and Ten Penny has been hankering after a chivaree for a long time,” Hannah said, remembering how excited the elder woman had been about her impending nuptials.

“Hmm…I didn’t think she was the romantic type.”

Every woman is the romantic type, you dope, Hannah thought, unaccountably annoyed. Yet it really wasn’t Ross’s fault. Everyone in town had teased her about being the last spinster in Quicksilver, thinking she was too practical, too sensible to mind the good-natured ribbing. Sometimes it felt like Sensible Hannah was tattooed across her forehead.

Sensible. Hah.

Pressing her lips together, she hurried to Toby’s table to clean it up before the wedding guests arrived, mostly to give herself something to do. She wanted to ask about the little boy Ross had brought with him, but figured Ross would explain in his own good time.

Crouching to retrieve a dropped spoon, she caught the child’s eye and smiled. The youngster regarded her gravely, then scooted off his chair to tug on his father’s pant leg. The ache around Hannah’s heart deepened. Everyone had moved on with their lives, and here she was, in the same old place she’d always been.

“Up, Papa.”

“All right, Jamie.”

Ross bent and lifted his son into his arms again. He’d fought so hard to get custody of Jamie, sometimes he was afraid to let go.

Jamie put his thumb in his mouth and stared at Hannah. Ross didn’t blame him, he could hardly keep from staring himself. She’d changed…a lot. He remembered a girl with a flyaway blond hair and a gamin face, but that girl had turned into a woman with expressive silver-green eyes and a shapely body.

Very shapely.

Get a grip, Ross ordered, trying to quell a flash of heat in his groin. That wasn’t why he’d returned to Quicksilver. He’d returned because Hannah was a good friend and he needed her help. When it came right down to it, she was the only woman he really trusted.

Woman. He grinned at the thought.

Hannah hadn’t quite been a woman when he’d left Quicksilver, but it didn’t matter; they’d gotten into too much trouble together to ever be strangers. Hours of writing “I’ll never build a snowman on the teacher’s chair again” were a guarantee of lifelong friendship.

“What are you smirking about?” Hannah asked.

“Our infamous snowman. How many times did we have to write that sentence?”

“A thousand times each. My hand developed a permanent crimp, and it was all your idea to do it.”

Ross shook his head. “Not quite. You were the one who suggested we dye the snow green and use a witch’s cap. That was the part Mrs. Haggerty hated the worst.”

“All right, we were both responsible.” Hannah laughed, her cheeks turning pink. He loved it; she was probably the only woman left on the planet unspoiled enough to blush.

After his disastrous marriage he’d vowed never to be trapped again, but getting Jamie had changed everything. He needed a wife to strengthen his legal position in case of another custody battle, and his son needed a mother. Hannah was the solution to both problems.

He’d thought it out very carefully. Hannah had grown up in Alaska and she was great with kids. And she was the loyal type—at just fourteen she’d taken over caring for the family when her mother died in childbirth. He knew she’d marry him if she understood how important it was; they’d always stuck together.

Hannah came closer, her attention focused on Jamie. “Hello. My name is Hannah. Who are you?”

“Jamie. I’m four.” He held up all five of his fingers.

She tucked his thumb down, then touched the remaining fingers one by one. “This many is four. One, two, three, four. See?”

He regarded his hand for a solemn second. In fact, he was entirely too solemn and grave for a child his age, something that could be blamed on his flighty mother. Ross’s mouth tightened with determination; Jamie deserved to have Hannah as his mother, and that’s exactly what his son was going to get.

“Okay,” Jamie agreed. “Can I have some ice cream?”

“May I,” Ross corrected.

Jamie sighed heavily. “Okay. Can Papa have some, too?”

An exasperated expression crossed his father’s face, but Hannah smiled. After raising six brothers, she could handle little boys. A sense of humor helped, along with a huge tolerance for noise and cheerful chaos.

“Of course he can have some ice cream. I know your papa likes strawberry the best, but what’s your favorite?”

“V’nilla.” Jamie leaned forward and held out his arms. With an ease born of long practice, Hannah shifted the youngster onto her hip.

“I need to talk to you, Hannah,” said Ross, following them to a corner table. “It’s important.”

For some reason her stomach fluttered, though she couldn’t imagine why. They’d talked about everything when they were kids; why should it be different now? The fact that Ross had turned into a heart-stopping hunk didn’t mean anything.

And don’t forget Jamie.

Right.

Little boys had mothers, which meant there was a good chance Ross was married. So it would be silly to be attracted to an old friend, and even sillier to imagine he was attracted to her. It was just this wedding stuff, getting her stirred up and confused. Just the same, it would be nice to have someone really want her.

“Hannah?”

“Uhh…all right. Except I’d better get that ice cream first. Isn’t that right, Jamie? A nice big bowl.”

Jamie’s eyes brightened. “V’nilla.”

“And strawberry for your papa. We’ll be right back, Ross.”

Ross sat back and watched Hannah disappear into the restaurant kitchen with his son. “I heard Deke is working on a fishing boat,” he called. “He’s the youngest, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” Her voice was muffled. “He took off a couple of months ago to earn money for college. Deke is just like you. He couldn’t wait to get away.”

Ross shifted in the old ladder-back chair. Yeah, he’d been anxious to leave Quicksilver. It was a dusty little town, forgotten by the modern world and lumbering toward extinction. The principal entertainments were hunting, drinking and watching moss grow on trees.

On the other hand, Hannah had never seemed to mind living in Quicksilver. She’d listened patiently when he talked about escaping, but her family was the center of her world, not exotic travel and different places. And he had to admit, if he’d been part of the Liggett clan he might have felt the same. They weren’t perfect, but they were nice people.

“Here we go,” Hannah said a moment later. She held a tray in one hand and led Jamie with the other.

“Thanks.” Ross settled his son on his lap and tucked a napkin under his chin. It was awkward. Jamie had only been living with him for a few weeks and they were still adjusting to each other.

Just then the sound of excited, happy people floated into the restaurant and Hannah grinned. “That’s the wedding party coming over from the church.”

“I couldn’t believe it when your dad said Ten Penny was getting married.”

She gave him a strange look. “When did you talk to my father?”

“A few days ago.”

Hannah straightened, still watching Ross with a question in her eyes. She didn’t like hearing that he’d talked to her dad, especially since her father had been walking around all week like a cat who’d stolen the cream. Anyway, if Ross had something to talk to her about, why wouldn’t he call her directly?

“Danged if this isn’t something,” cried Ten Penny as she tottered through the door. “I’m finally a missus!” Everyone else was dressed in the usual jeans and shirts, but Ten Penny wore a purple feather boa around her neck and a beaded dress of unknown vintage.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Dobkins,” Hannah said, giving Ten Penny a hug. “You look beautiful.” And she meant it. Maybe Ten Penny had a few wrinkles and a questionable reputation in the murky past, but none of that mattered today. She was beautiful…a survivor, a monument to stubborn determination in the face of great odds.

“You sure made it all look purty in here,” said Ten Penny. “All them flowers and ribbons and such. It’s a real weddin’ party. Thanks, darlin’.”

“I enjoyed doing it,” Hannah assured her. “Now go sit down and have a good time.”

The combination bar and restaurant wasn’t very big, and with half the town crowded inside, the noise level skyrocketed. In the distant past Ten Penny had heard about “petit fours” and “little sandwiches without crusts,” so she’d asked Hannah to make some of those “fancy goo-gaws” for her big day. Fortunately Hannah had also made red-hot chili and several sheet cakes—Quicksilver wasn’t ready for finger food.

When she got the chance, Hannah pulled her father to one side. “What’s going on with Ross McCoy? You never said anything about talking to him.”

“Oh? You know he calls the bar every now and then—more before his pa died, of course. The McCoys never had a phone. He always asks about you, too.”

Hannah ignored the pleasure her father’s last statement gave her. “Yes, but why is he here?”

“You’ll have to ask Ross. My, that chocolate cake looks good. I’d better get over there before it’s all gone.”

“Wily old fox,” Hannah muttered.

“Whatever you say, dear. By the way, did I mention Ross is divorced?”

With that last remark, Edgar Liggett made a beeline for the food table, leaving Hannah with narrowed eyes and a tapping foot. She loved her father, but he had an annoying ability to duck out of uncomfortable situations.

And what did he mean about Ross being divorced? With Edgar it could be anything from idle conversation to a suggestion she seduce the guy. Hannah froze at the thought, then shook her head. The idea had a certain appeal, but she didn’t have any skills in the seduction department and she wouldn’t want to hurt her friendship with Ross, anyway. It was funny, but even after all these years, she still considered him her best friend. If her life had gone a little differently, they might have kept in touch. He’d done better than she had—at least he’d written her a few letters.

As for what Ross wanted…she didn’t know what to think. He sat in the corner, calmly eating ice cream with his son and chatting with the partygoers as though he’d never left Quicksilver. Feeling foolish, Hannah headed over to his table on the pretext of bringing Jamie a glass of milk.

“Thanks.” Ross smiled and motioned to the chair next to him. “Can you take a break?”

“Sure. You wanted to talk, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” He pushed the last of his ice cream away. “I understand you never got married.”

“Thanks, rub it in,” Hannah muttered.

He looked surprised. “I didn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not.”

No longer curious, she grabbed his bowl and headed for the kitchen. So much for thinking Ross might understand how she felt. It was different for men; they could father babies until they were old and gray. They didn’t have to worry about biological clocks, which probably explained why they didn’t obsess about falling in love nearly so much as the female half of the species.

“Hannah…”

“What?” she asked.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Hannah sighed. She was being overly sensitive, but that didn’t change the way she felt. “Forget it.” But he stood there waiting and she shrugged. “It’s just that I’ve been teased a lot about Ten Penny’s wedding—you know, about it making me the last spinster. I thought you were getting into the fun, as well.”

Genuine shock registered on his face. “I’d never do that, Hannah. I only brought it up because—”

“Honey, that punch could use some more kick,” called Ten Penny into the kitchen. “But yer daddy’s fresh out of gin at the bar and he can’t find his keys to the storeroom.”

Hannah leaned her forehead against the worn wood of a cabinet for a second. A kick. That’s all she needed—a bunch of elderly revelers getting punch drunk. “Okay, I’ll get it.”

She hurried out again, at the same time checking on Jamie. Despite her muddled emotions, Hannah smiled. Ross had left the boy with three older women, who clucked over him like a bunch of broody hens. There weren’t many children in Quicksilver; the town didn’t have any opportunities for young families, so most of them migrated to larger communities like Anchorage or Fairbanks.

Ross caught her arm. “Let’s sneak out for a little while.”

“I’m busy.” Hannah pulled away, but he followed her to the storeroom. Honestly, he’d waited over seventeen years to come see her, and now he acted like the building was on fire and he didn’t have a moment to waste.

“I am very, very serious. Could we please go somewhere private?” he asked.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “I have a wedding reception to take care of, Ross. Why don’t you roll up your sleeves and help me? There’s plenty of time. We can talk later.”

“Well, I—”

“Honey, where’s that gin?” call Ten Penny.

“Coming.”

Sighing again, Hannah hunted up a bottle and pushed past Ross. The small room felt even smaller with him filling up the entrance, his eyes dark and intent as they watched her. It was uncomfortable, feeling so aware of him as a man.

“Here you go.”

She handed the bottle to Ten Penny, who proceeded to empty it into the bowl. Hannah grimaced as the scent of gin assailed her senses; ordinarily she left serving spirits to her father, but this was a special occasion.