Read Online Love and Splendor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 5 by Patricia Hagan - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Hagan
Ads: Link
that they would like to be considered for the position of Mrs. John Travis Coltrane.
Neither did Colt feel he was conceited to acknowledge his own worth. He was rich. He had followed in his father’s footsteps and continued to keep the Coltrane holdings extremely successful. He also knew he was considered good looking. Tall, muscular, with dark hair and eyes, he’d been told by enough women that he was attractive that he believed it himself.
So, he candidly asked himself, why couldn’t he find a woman to marry?
But that, he reasoned, was not the question that bothered him, haunted him in quiet, contemplative times such as this.
The burning issue really was that Colt just did not trust women.
He had been burned too many times. Even Briana, whom he had fancied himself in love with for a time, had originally tricked him, deceived him. Maybe it left a bad taste in his mouth for all time.
Maybe, he mused with bitterness, he was just bored. Since returning from Europe, there had been no excitement in his life. All he had done was more or less watch someone else tend to his business. Sure, there were ponies to be broken, records to be kept, decisions to be made, dozens of chores to take part in. But it wasn’t what he wanted, not the way he wanted to spend his life, and it certainly did not make him eager to rise each morning and face a new day.
He needed, and wanted, something more. Only he could not figure out what.
In the distance, he saw a lone rider coming down the road, heading in. He knew it would be Bart, who had gone into town earlier to order supplies, check on mail, do a few other errands.
He got up from his solitary perch and made his way down the slope. By the time he reached the porch, Bart was reining up.
He gave Colt a broad grin, held out a small wicker basket. “Had to balance this just right, or the meringue might fall. Compliments of Miss Melissa Waitley.”
Colt took the basket from him. He had expected something like this. Melissa always hung around the general store where either he or Bart did their Saturday shopping if they were in town.
Bart dismounted. “There’s also fresh-baked cookies in the saddlebags, compliments of Miss Jessica Owens.” He pretended to frown, as though in deep study. “Can’t recall any gifts from her before. In fact, I can’t even recall seeing her before. Comely little lass, though. Blonde hair, big green eyes. Had Miss Melissa fuming, she did, when she walked right up and introduced herself and said she was told I was your foreman, and would I please bring you some treats and remind you that you promised to stop by her house for tea next time you was in town.”
Colt also frowned as he tried to recall just who Jessica Owens was. He had stopped in to see the dentist last time he was in town, and there had been a young lady working for him as a nurse, and she had said something about maybe he could stop by for refreshments sometime so they could get acquainted, because she was new in town and didn’t know many people yet. But was her hair blonde? For the life of him, he couldn’t remember.
Then Bart tired of his teasing for the moment and handed him a packet of letters. “There’s one from Paris,” he pointed out.
That was the one Colt opened at once. He scanned the neatly written lines from his mother, describing how she and Dani had just come back from Monaco, where they had cleared out the deBonnett château.
He read on about how Dani was planning to open up her own art and antique shop. His mother was going to run it while Dani traveled around Europe on buying jaunts.
She went on to wish that he was well and tell him once more how much she loved him, missed him, and hoped that soon they could make plans to come home for a visit.
Colt folded the letter, stuffed it in the pocket of his buckskin vest, and grew thoughtful. His father traveled, now Dani would also be traveling…and, suddenly, Colt knew exactly what he was going to do with his
Neither did Colt feel he was conceited to acknowledge his own worth. He was rich. He had followed in his father’s footsteps and continued to keep the Coltrane holdings extremely successful. He also knew he was considered good looking. Tall, muscular, with dark hair and eyes, he’d been told by enough women that he was attractive that he believed it himself.
So, he candidly asked himself, why couldn’t he find a woman to marry?
But that, he reasoned, was not the question that bothered him, haunted him in quiet, contemplative times such as this.
The burning issue really was that Colt just did not trust women.
He had been burned too many times. Even Briana, whom he had fancied himself in love with for a time, had originally tricked him, deceived him. Maybe it left a bad taste in his mouth for all time.
Maybe, he mused with bitterness, he was just bored. Since returning from Europe, there had been no excitement in his life. All he had done was more or less watch someone else tend to his business. Sure, there were ponies to be broken, records to be kept, decisions to be made, dozens of chores to take part in. But it wasn’t what he wanted, not the way he wanted to spend his life, and it certainly did not make him eager to rise each morning and face a new day.
He needed, and wanted, something more. Only he could not figure out what.
In the distance, he saw a lone rider coming down the road, heading in. He knew it would be Bart, who had gone into town earlier to order supplies, check on mail, do a few other errands.
He got up from his solitary perch and made his way down the slope. By the time he reached the porch, Bart was reining up.
He gave Colt a broad grin, held out a small wicker basket. “Had to balance this just right, or the meringue might fall. Compliments of Miss Melissa Waitley.”
Colt took the basket from him. He had expected something like this. Melissa always hung around the general store where either he or Bart did their Saturday shopping if they were in town.
Bart dismounted. “There’s also fresh-baked cookies in the saddlebags, compliments of Miss Jessica Owens.” He pretended to frown, as though in deep study. “Can’t recall any gifts from her before. In fact, I can’t even recall seeing her before. Comely little lass, though. Blonde hair, big green eyes. Had Miss Melissa fuming, she did, when she walked right up and introduced herself and said she was told I was your foreman, and would I please bring you some treats and remind you that you promised to stop by her house for tea next time you was in town.”
Colt also frowned as he tried to recall just who Jessica Owens was. He had stopped in to see the dentist last time he was in town, and there had been a young lady working for him as a nurse, and she had said something about maybe he could stop by for refreshments sometime so they could get acquainted, because she was new in town and didn’t know many people yet. But was her hair blonde? For the life of him, he couldn’t remember.
Then Bart tired of his teasing for the moment and handed him a packet of letters. “There’s one from Paris,” he pointed out.
That was the one Colt opened at once. He scanned the neatly written lines from his mother, describing how she and Dani had just come back from Monaco, where they had cleared out the deBonnett château.
He read on about how Dani was planning to open up her own art and antique shop. His mother was going to run it while Dani traveled around Europe on buying jaunts.
She went on to wish that he was well and tell him once more how much she loved him, missed him, and hoped that soon they could make plans to come home for a visit.
Colt folded the letter, stuffed it in the pocket of his buckskin vest, and grew thoughtful. His father traveled, now Dani would also be traveling…and, suddenly, Colt knew exactly what he was going to do with his
Similar Books
