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After reading “Gone with the Wind” at the age of ten, Maggie decided that she wanted to be a writer too. When penning epic tomes became way too daunting and, frankly, boring, she decided to write what she loves to read the most: sweet romance stories. She endeavors to find a new twist in the telling, but the age-old story of boy meets girl will forever be at the heart of her writing.
Born and raised in northern California, Maggie has lived on both coasts of the United States. She now lives in the beautiful Flathead Valley in northwestern Montana.
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Margaret Desmond Novels
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King’s Valley Series
Ethan’s Bride
Sweet Grass – Montana Romance Series
Trusting Travis (Spring 2019)
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HER ORDINARY JOE
[He’s neat and orderly. She’s a free spirit. A little white lie kicks off this hilarious “opposites attract” romance. A clean, fun, heartwarming read!]
***
HE WAS PERFECT.
Aunt Polly will love him, Ellie Winslow thought as she gazed dreamily at her teacher, Mr. Matthews. He’d be the perfect man for her. Ellie just knew it.
It was Ellie’s top-secret mission to find a husband for her aunt. She’d happily taken on the task after she’d spent Labor Day weekend at Aunt Polly’s house two weeks ago. When Ellie had asked for the umpteenth time why her aunt wasn’t married yet, Aunt Polly had said: “I tell you what, pumpkin. You find the perfect man for me, and I’ll marry him. And you can be my maid of honor.”
From that moment on, Ellie’s dreams had been filled with sparkly, pretty bridesmaid dresses and matching shoes. All in pink, of course. She hoped Aunt Polly would let her wear a tiara too. That would be really cool. And since her first day of school when the new fifth grade teacher had walked into the classroom, her dreams had included a smart and handsome bridegroom in a black tuxedo. The bridegroom looked just like Mr. Matthews.
Ooh. It was going to be the best wedding ever.
He was tall and handsome, and he had big shoulders too, just like the heroes in those books her aunt wrote. And he had blue eyes. Aunt Polly told her once that all of the heroes in her books had blue eyes; that was a must.
He wasn’t a wimp, that was for sure. He was nice to everyone, but firm. No one dared sass back to him or make fun of him behind his back. Respect. That’s what it was. All of the kids respected Mr. Matthews.
He was the only male teacher in the entire school except for Mr. Randall, the P.E. teacher. Half the girls had a crush on him already. They would whisper about him all the time and pass silly notes back and forth decorated with big hearts and arrows. Wouldn’t they be so surprised and jealous when he asked pudgy, four-eyed Ellie’s pretty Aunt Polly to marry him.
She’d show them.
If she could just find her courage. It’d taken two whole weeks to think of the right words to say to him and how she’d say them. Today was Friday. If things worked out like she planned, he’d be asking Aunt Polly to out to dinner or a movie with him tomorrow night. Their first date.
If things didn’t go as she planned, Ellie would at least have the weekend to recover. But she knew that this would work. She just knew.
***
JOE MATTHEWS GLANCED up from his paperwork and wondered why Ellie Winslow was still in the classroom. The rest of his fifth-grade students had left several minutes ago. She was staring at him with a rapt expression, her hands folded primly on her desk.
She was a quiet girl in class; she didn’t raise her hand that often to answer questions, but she was doing well in all subjects so far, particularly math, which pleased him since that had been his favorite subject when he was her age. And it still was.
He felt some empathy for her. She was a little overweight, wore glasses and had a chipped front tooth. She always covered her mouth when she smiled or laughed. He’d learned from her parents that she’d fallen and broken the tooth just before the start of the school year. It would be another week or so yet before the crown was ready; she’d had to get a root canal first. Poor thing.
He’d observed that she usually sat alone at lunchtime and didn’t appear to have any close friends. He wondered what he could do to help with her situation. This was his first teaching job. He had a sister, seven years younger than himself, so he’d had some experience dealing with prepubescent girls and their myriad and perplexing issues. But that had been years ago, and there were certain protocols he had to watch out for here. He’d discuss his concerns with Mrs. Gallagher, the principal, and get her advice on how to navigate these murky waters.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize that Ellie had approached his desk until she gave a nervous cough.
“Uh, Mr. Matthews? Um, I was wondering...” She seemed to be struggling for breath; her cheeks were pink.
“Yes? What is it, Ellie?”
There was a long pause as she glanced away from him as if looking for inspiration. Then she blurted, “If you like, I can clean the boards for you. I used to stay after school to help Mrs. Brown last year.”
He bit down on a smile of relief. Was that what this was all about? “Thanks, Ellie. That would be a big help.”
He returned his attention to the stack of essays in front of him. During the science portion of the class that day, he’d talked about great inventors down through history, and he’d shown his students Leonardo da Vinci's sketch of a helicopter and other forward-thinking ideas that wouldn’t be made into reality until centuries later. He’d asked everyone to write a one-page essay about their own invention ideas. Several of them were surprisingly clever.
“Mr. Matthews?”
“Yes?” he asked absently, continuing to read through Tom Oliver’s intricately detailed description of a time-travel machine.
“Are you married?”
Good lord. She had a crush on him. That was the one thing he’d never considered when he’d decided to become a teacher. He’d seen the girls in his classroom passing notes and making eyes at him and had pointedly ignored them. How could he handle this delicately without wounding a young girl’s tender feelings? He kept his head down, pretending interest in his reading. His reply was brief and businesslike. “No. Not yet.”
“Oh, you mean, you have a girlfriend?”
He gave an inward sigh as he swiveled his chair around and looked at her. She’d stopped erasing the whiteboard and was staring at him, her little face holding an expression of both worry and hope.
“That’s a rather personal question, Ellie. But, no, I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment.”
Her forehead knitted in a puzzled frown. “Oh. So, uh, you don’t like girls, then?”
He felt a flush of heat rise from his neck to his face. “Ellie. That’s really none of your business. What’s the point of these questions?”
“You’re so handsome. Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
He was probably going to laugh about this conversation later. But, right now, it wasn’t too difficult to keep his tone and expression severe. He pointed to the wooden chair alongside his desk. “Sit down, Ellie. We need to have a talk.”
She silently complied, staring raptly at him, her gaze owlish and intense behind her glasses.
He folded his hands on his desk and looked at her from beneath serious eyebrows. He cleared his throat. “It’s natural for a student to have, uh, certain feelings for her or his teacher. When I was in junior high school I had a crush on my math teacher, but that—”
“Oh, no, it’s not that, Mr. Matthews! I don’t like you. I mean, I like you, but not like that. Ew. Gross. You’re way too old for me.” Ellie’s tone was prim and serious.
Joe brought one hand briefly to his mouth to cover its twitching. He took a deep breath. “So, what’s with all the nosy questions?”
“I’m sorry. My Aunt Polly always tells me I should think before I speak.”
“That’s excellent advice.”
The girl’s face brightened. She leaned closer to his desk. “Oh, yes. My Aunt Polly always gives the best advice. She’s smart. And fun. I like her best of all my aunts. She’s really pretty, too. She’d be the perfect wife, but nobody has asked her to marry him yet.” Her voice turned earnest. “That’s why I had to ask if you have a girlfriend, Mr. Matthews. Because I want you to marry my Aunt Polly.”
“What?”
“I’ve thought about this a lot,” she continued gravely. “But I’ve known since the first day of school that you’re the one.”
He glanced up at the ceiling as if hoping to find guidance in the buzzing fluorescent light panels. He silently counted to ten before refocusing his attention on Ellie. “Does your aunt know about this?”
The girl nodded her head eagerly. “Of course. She asked me to find the perfect man for her. She said that if I found him I could be her maid of honor at her wedding. I have the dress and the shoes all picked out.”
“So, she knows about this? About me?”
“Not yet. But she will. As soon as I introduce you to her.”
He took another slow count to ten. “This is the most... Listen, Ellie. You can’t do that. You can’t just assume that I’m going to want to meet your aunt and ask her to marry me. Things just don’t happen that way. I’m sure your aunt was teasing when she asked you to find the, uh, perfect man for her.”
Ellie squirmed in her seat. Her lower lip jutted out with belligerence. “She didn’t act like she was teasing.”
“I’m sure your aunt is everything you say she is,” he replied sternly. “But when it comes to finding a new girlfriend, I’ll do the looking and the asking.”
Dang it. She looked like she was about to cry. He saw the warning sheen of tears in her eyes. He leaned towards her, his voice softening. “It took a lot of guts for you to approach me about this, Ellie. I appreciate your straightforwardness. You must love your aunt very much to do this for her.”
“Oh, I do love her. Everybody loves her. And you will too. Once you meet her, it’ll be love at first sight. Just like in the books she writes.”
The threat of tears seemed to have passed. He couldn’t help but be lured in by the conviction in her face as she spoke of her aunt. The girl’s face glowed.
“Your aunt is a writer?”
“Yes. She’s really, really good.”
“She writes children’s books?” As he recalled, it was only in fairy tales that people ‘fell in love at first sight.’
“No. Aunt Polly writes romance novels.” This was said with great pride.
“Ah.”
“She’s really good,” Ellie said again.
“Is she an author I would know? Does she have many books published?”
“None yet.” She gave him a knowing look, her next words clearly mimicking an adult conversation that she most likely wasn’t meant to overhear. “But that’s because the publishers don’t know good writing when they see it. All they want is sex, and Aunt Polly doesn’t write that kind of stuff.” She sniffed in disgust.
He barely managed to hold in a startled shout of laughter. He was finding it extremely difficult to keep a straight face. “Well. She sounds like a woman of high moral character.”
“Um, yeah.”
He had to admit that his curiosity was stirred. A woman who wrote romance novels without the sex? Wasn’t that the central plot point of all romance novels these days? What did this Aunt Polly look like? Ellie said she was pretty, but that was from the perspective of a child and a niece. He wondered why this Aunt Polly wasn’t married. How old was she? Not that he was interested in the slightest. He’d recently ended a two-year relationship and was enjoying his solitary state for the time being.
He was distracted from his thoughts when the janitor appeared in the doorway. “You just about done in here, Joe? I want to lock up early today. Going fishing for the weekend.”
“Sure, Larry. I’ll be out in a minute.” He turned back to Ellie. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you—”
The girl’s face crumpled. “Oh, Mr. Matthews,” she wailed. She put her head down on his desk and began to sob loudly, her shoulders heaving.
Good God. Now what? “Ellie. What’s the matter?”
He pieced the words together through her sobs. “I wasn’t going to t-tell you this. My Aunt Polly needs to get married!”
“Why?”
“It’s my g-grandma. She’d d-dying. She’s only got one year to live, and she wants to see her only d-daughter married before she dies. Grandma told me it’s the one dream that’s keeping her alive!”
His afternoon had rapidly taken a nosedive. This was so out of left field. “I’m very sorry to hear that. That must be really difficult for your family. I’ll talk with Mrs. Gallagher—”
Ellie lifted her head. Her glasses were partially fogged over. She stared at him beseechingly over the rims. “No! I don’t want anybody else to know. I don’t like people feeling sorry for me. But I had to tell you, Mr. Matthews. You’re the only one who can help.”
Joe kept his tone kind but firm. “No, I can’t. I’m not going to marry your Aunt Polly. That’s final.”
The girl gave a few more sobs before gradually calming down. She took off her glasses and wiped them on her shirt sleeve. When she propped them back on her nose, he noticed a fresh, tenacious gleam in her eyes. She took a deep, wobbly breath. “Okay. I understand. But could you just meet her? If I can see you with her then I’ll know for sure you’re not the one.”
“Now Ellie—”
“I can’t concentrate on my homework,” the girl persisted. “All I can think about is my Aunt Polly and my grandma. You don’t even have to talk with her if you don’t feel like it. You can look at her from far away. She might be working in her front yard this afternoon. We can just walk by. Casually. You know?”
He inhaled sharply. “You want me to see her today?”
“Mr. Matthews. This is very important.” Ellie’s tone was as serious as a news commentator announcing details of a fresh disaster. “My grandma doesn’t have much time.”
He felt like he was on the losing end of this particular battle. He had to admire the girl’s bravado and tenacity. He was finding it difficult to stand firm. “I’m not just going to walk by your aunt’s house with you. That would look ridiculous.”
As Ellie looked like she was ready to burst into a fresh bout of tears, he regretted his foolishness even as he reluctantly agreed to her preposterous scheme. “Okay, let’s make a deal here. I’ll agree to meet your aunt. But you’ll have to do some extra credit work.”
She was leaping from her seat before he’d finished speaking. “All right! Thank you, Mr. Matthews!”
He held up a staying hand. “Hold on a minute. Don’t get the wrong idea here. I’ll meet her just this once. Nothing’s going to happen between us. And you will promise me that you’ll never mention this to me again, or to anyone else.”
The girl swiftly crossed her heart, her face flushed with happiness. “I promise.”
He sighed. What the heck had he gotten himself into? “What reason do I give for needing to meet her?” he muttered, half to himself.
“Oh, that’s easy. Aunt Polly’s computer isn’t working right. You said on the first day of school that you worked for a computer company, right? So, we’ll pretend that I’ve asked you to fix it for her.”
Something didn’t feel right. He narrowed his eyes at her. She seemed to have everything well thought out. Smart kid. “What advice does your aunt give regarding lying?”
She gave him an innocent look. “It’s not really a lie. You did work for a computer company. And her computer is acting funny. So...”
“So...”
Why did he feel like he’d just been conned?
***
[She's a newcomer to Montana, eager to start a new life for herself and her teenage brother. He's a rugged, handsome rancher who's not happy she bought the one piece of land he and his family have coveted for years.]
Her thoughts scattered into the wind as she stepped outside the barn to find a man on a horse less than ten feet in front of her. He was looking toward the house but, at her startled gasp, he turned his face sharply towards her.
The air seemed to go still around them as they stared at each other. Sage was unaware of the wind or the cold, her focus narrowed on the stranger. It wasn’t fear that had her heart suddenly beating like the wings of a hummingbird. She didn’t know what it was. She’d never felt like this in her life.
This was a man unlike any she’d ever encountered before. Not in real life, anyway. It was as if he’d stepped directly from the pages of one of her father’s western novels; he fit every image in her head of what a real western man would look like.
He sat tall in the saddle, his broad chest and wide, sloping shoulders amplified by the shearling sheepskin coat he wore. Brown leather chaps fitted snug over lean and muscular thighs, tapered down his long legs and flared above his dusty boots. His chiseled jaw and firm mouth were all that she could see of his face; the rest of it was thrown into shadow beneath the lowered brim of his brown cowboy hat.
His horse snorted, sending puffs of white vapor into the chilly air. Sage’s gaze flicked to the animal, a magnificent specimen—a thoroughbred quarter horse mix, she guessed—its sleek, steel-grey coat carrying the sheen of recent exercise.
“Are you a guest of Gigi’s?”
The low, rich timbre of his voice caught at a place deep in her being. She released a slow breath, her own voice shaking a little as she replied, “No. I’ve just moved in.”
He nudged his horse closer, stopping alongside of her. The shorter distance between them forced her to tilt her head back to look at him. From this angle, he appeared like a giant. She caught the enticing whiff of leather and warm horse and good clean sweat.
“Moved in?” he queried in that deep voice that carried a slight hint of a drawl. “You mean Gigi’s renting out a room to you?”
She still couldn’t see his eyes, but it felt as if they were burning into her. The strange feelings inside of her intensified, heating her blood. “No. Gigi sold this place to me.”
He froze.
The horse, sensing the change in the air, swiveled its ears back and tossed its head.
Maybe Sage had imagined the man’s sudden tension, because within seconds he was sitting loose and relaxed in the saddle. He patted the horse’s neck with a gloved hand before touching that same hand to the brim of his hat, pushing it back far enough that she could finally see his eyes. They were dark brown, almost black, set beneath thick, black brows and a high forehead creased with lines. His face was handsome in that tan, craggy way of men who spent most of their time working outdoors. He appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties.
“That makes you my new neighbor then,” he said, his tone now curiously absent of inflection. “I’m Spence Hollister.”