Free His Most Suitable Bride by Renee Ryan

arrived.”
    His mouth quirked up at one corner. “Ah, well, that explains it, then.”
    She took the bite on her fork, studied his handsome face as she chewed.
    Still holding her gaze, Marshall sampled his own fish. Only when Reese’s father said his name did he break eye contact and answer a question about railroad stock. Which soon segued into a lengthy discussion on water rights.
    With nothing to add to either topic, Callie listened in silence. The brief interlude with Marshall had given her time to recover her equilibrium and she was grateful to the man.
    She glanced at him from beneath her lashes.
    In temperament and in looks, he reminded her of her brother Garrett. Marshall’s tawny hair was a bit more unruly, and his brown eyes were several shades darker, but they could almost pass for brothers.
    There was another glaring similarity between the two men. Marshall had once been engaged to Garrett’s wife, Molly. Did he pine for his lost love? Callie wondered.
    How did one ask such a question?
    One didn’t ask such a question.
    Yet she’d practically done so with Reese the other day in his office.
    Callie cut a glance across the table, noticed Reese was no longer engaged in conversation with either of the Ferguson sisters. Instead, he was watching her. Closely. Intently.
    She looked down at her plate then just as quickly glanced back up. Reese was still watching her, just as closely, just as intently. She wished he would look away. Then, perversely, wished he would continue looking at her all night.
    At least he wasn’t conversing with either of the Ferguson sisters anymore.
    Why not?
    They were both very beautiful, educated, came from a good family and...
    Callie suddenly remembered the words written in a bold, masculine hand she’d fished out from beneath Lady Macbeth. Loves children...must come from a good family and...value strong family ties.
    Qualities a man might look for in a wife.
    Alarm filled her.
    Was Reese actively seeking a woman to take Fanny’s place in his heart? Had he enlisted Mrs. Singletary’s assistance?
    No. It was too soon. Fanny had barely left town.
    “I understand your brother is practicing law in St. Louis,” Marshall said, the gently spoken question sufficiently breaking through Callie’s growing panic.
    “Yes.” She rummaged up a smile for her dinner companion. “I received a letter from his wife just today.”
    “You and Molly are still close, I presume?”
    “Very. It was hard to say goodbye to her after the wedding, but the ever-faithful postal service keeps us in touch.”
    If only Fanny would write, as well. One letter. Callie yearned for nothing more than one, short letter from her sister.
    “Is Molly...” Marshall hesitated, his smile dropping slightly. “Is she happy living in St. Louis with your brother?”
    How best to answer such a loaded question? The truth, she told herself. Stick with the truth. “She has settled into her new life with Garrett rather nicely. She’s even started her own millinery shop.”
    “I’m pleased for her.” The relief in his eyes was more powerful than the words. “And your brother.”
    “I believe you truly mean that.”
    He turned thoughtful a moment, lifted a shoulder. “Though Molly is a generous, beautiful woman, she was not the woman for me. We would never have truly happy together. Content, perhaps. But not happy.”
    Something sad came and went in his eyes.
    Wanting to soothe, she reached out and touched her fingers to his forearm. “I’m sorry, Mr. Ferguson.”
    He placed his hand atop hers and squeezed gently. “Molly and I parted ways amicably. We will always be friends.”
    Friends?
    There was that awful word again, spoken by another man in reference to his former fiancée. Why would anyone propose to a woman he considered nothing more than a friend?
    Oh, she knew many marriages were based on far less, and were entered into for a vast array of reasons. But in her family love was the most important foundation to