The Rancher Takes A Bride (The Burnett Brides Book 1)

it takes."
    Travis hung his head and shook it from side to side in disbelief. His sensible mother believed the little cheat!
    One visit and somehow Desirée Severin had gotten her money-grabbing hooks into his mom.
    "Then hire another investigator. Just don't go see Desirée Severin again. She's a cheat, a beautiful fraud who wants to separate you from your money."
    "She's compassionate and friendly, and she soothed poor Mrs. McLaughlin's grief. She made the woman feel good for those few minutes. And for the first time in a long time, I've felt hope at finding out the truth about Tanner." She sighed. "I'd be doing the same if it were you. I still miss him terribly."
    "We all do, Mother. But we don't hold séances to try to contact him."
    "Maybe we should." She looked him square in the eye and with a defiant shake of her head said, "We could invite her to dinner. Maybe if you got to know her, you'd feel differently."
    A jolt of pure shock almost knocked Travis out of his chair. He reacted instantly. "That's crazy!" Throwing up his hands, he took a calming breath. "Miss Severin, if that is her real name, comforted your friend by lying, by pretending to be able to speak with her dead husband. Tanner is dead or else he would be home. No one can speak with him. She's after your money, Mother!"
    "Oh, Travis. When did you become so suspicious of everyone?"
    Slowly he rose from the chair, a fierce sense of protectiveness encompassing all six feet of him as he towered over his petite mother.
    "You know, Mother, even Father agreed you were stubborn and likely to do what you wanted whether he approved or not I don't want to see you taken advantage of, so I'm going to insist you stay away from Miss Severin."
    She lifted her chin. "You're my son, not my keeper."
    "I don't care. If you see this woman again, I'll go straight to Tucker and together we'll make sure we close her down."
    "But she's not doing anything wrong. She's helping people. Why can't you show a little compassion?"
    "She's taking innocent people's money. The woman is using grief to make a living. She's the worst kind of thief—she takes advantage of people when they're vulnerable."
    He took a deep breath, the need to protect his family strong within his chest.
    "But—"
    "Tucker's trying to clean up this town; he won't hesitate to send her packing. Don't see her again, Mother."
    ***
    Eugenia wanted grandchildren in the worst possible way. All her friends' children were married and had children, yet Eugenia couldn't get even one of her three sons married.
    Travis and Tucker were both about as interested in love as in a good dose of castor oil. At thirty, her oldest son, Travis, hadn't even tried to find a wife and had managed to scare off most of the women in town. Tanner was lost, possibly even dead. And Tucker, after a youth fraught with danger and youthful foolishness, had finally come home a gunslinger with a past. No children, no marriages, no wives, not even a steady girlfriend to offer Eugenia hope of seeing her sons settled with families of their own.
    Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Eugenia would do whatever it took to help her sons find the tender emotion of love, complete with babies. And the delectable Miss Severin, who had stood up to Travis, her overbearing son, was exactly the type of woman he needed. Someone who could handle his impertinent behavior. Someone he couldn't walk all over.
    Glancing down Jones Street one last time, Eugenia pushed open the door to The Last Word . A tiny bell jingled above the door, and Madame Severin strolled through a curtained area.
    "Mrs. Burnett, you've returned," she said quietly. She wore a soft yellow polonaise dress with a pompadour neck that exposed the creamy whiteness of her breasts, just enough to cause a man's gaze to linger.
    "I needed to speak with you," Eugenia said. There was something about this young woman. Something that reminded Eugenia of herself years ago. Whatever it was, she thought the woman would be good for her son.
    "Come sit, and I'll have Isaiah make us some tea. I don't have another appointment for at least two hours." Desirée led Eugenia to a small sitting area.
    "Thank you." Eugenia sat down on a horsehair couch, while Madame Severin disappeared once again behind the curtain.
    Eugenia glanced around the sparsely furnished room where Desirée conducted her business. A small, round table sat in the center of the room. A scarlet cloth threaded with gold stitches and