His Mail-Order Wife, Book #6

• Marriage of Convenience
• Mail-Order Wife
• Texas Ranger
• Cowboy Romance

Rio Montoya, former Texas Ranger and now single dad, needs a wife. His ex dropped their son on his doorstep with no warning, and Rio is completely out of his depth. Desperate, he places an ad on a mail-order bride site.

He just didn’t expect her to show up.

Clara Whitfield, recently widowed, is desperate. She lost her ranch to Rio after her husband died, and now she’s living in a tent with her daughter. She needs a home and stability for her daughter, and she’s willing to swallow her pride to get it, even if it means marrying the man she once loved in secret.

But their new marriage is threatened by Rio’s past and Clara’s secrets. Can Rio and Clara overcome their past and their fears to create a real family? Or will their marriage go up in flames?

His Mail-Order Wife is a sizzling, tender, contemporary romance, guaranteed to make you a believer in happily-ever-after.

Note to Readers: His Mail-Order Wife is Book #6 of 6 in The Sinful Secrets Series, a contemporary romance series by USA Today bestselling author and eleven-time RITA© (Romance Writers of America) finalist, Day Leclaire. This story features a hot, take-charge alpha hero and the perfect woman for him, and a sizzling romance between soul mates.

Don't miss this adorable read!

THE SHARP slam of the truck door made Rio Montoya flinch. He looked up from the dusty ranch yard, sweat dripping from his brow as he turned to the figure stomping toward him. Serena, his ex-girlfriend, stormed forward, her perfectly styled hair and designer sunglasses at odds with the gritty surroundings. On her finger gleamed a wedding ring with a diamond so large it caught the sun like a flash of lightning. In her hand, she held a duffel bag, and trailing behind her was a small boy clutching a stuffed bear.

“He’s yours now, Rio,” she said without preamble, dropping the bag at his feet. “My husband doesn’t want him around.”

Rio straightened, his hand tightening around the handle of the pitchfork he’d been using to muck out the barn. “What the hell are you talking about, Serena?”

“Mateo,” she snapped, jabbing a manicured nail toward the boy, who shrank behind the stuffed bear. “You’re not a Ranger anymore, so there’s no excuse. You can take him now. It’s your turn.”

Rio blinked. He’d known about Mateo, of course, but Serena had always kept the boy at arm’s length, insisting Rio’s dangerous career as a Texas Ranger made him unsuitable as a father. Now, faced with the solemn-eyed child who wouldn’t meet his gaze, Rio’s chest tightened.

“Wait,” he said, dropping the pitchfork and stepping forward, struggling to control his limp. “Serena, you can’t just dump him here. What about school? His routine? His life?”

Serena gave a hollow laugh, tilting her hand to catch the light on her diamond. “You’ve paid a fortune in child support, Rio. Now you get to keep it all. I raised him for five years. Now you can handle it.”

Rio clenched his jaw but kept his tone steady. “Serena, you need to slow down and think about what you’re doing. You’re his mother.”

“And you’re his father,” she shot back. “Parenting isn’t easy, Rio. He doesn’t listen, he doesn’t eat, and he sure as hell doesn’t sleep. My husband wants nothing to do with him, and I can’t fight that battle. He’s yours now.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel, marched back to her car, and drove away in a cloud of dust. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the shuffle of Mateo’s small feet as he scuffed the dirt with his sneakers.

Rio knelt, trying to meet Mateo’s gaze. “Hey, kid. I’m…” He trailed off, unsure what to say. “I guess I’m your dad. You ready to come inside?”

Mateo didn’t answer. He clutched his bear tighter, his lip quivering as big green eyes, as green as Rio’s, filled with tears. When he reached out, his son turned away, hugging himself tightly. The rejection hit Rio square in the chest, but he forced a soft smile.

“All right, bud,” he said gently. “How about we…” He searched for words that wouldn’t frighten or alienate the boy. “How about we start with some lemonade?”

Mateo didn’t respond, but Rio caught the faintest flicker of interest. He sighed, standing to grab the duffel bag.
As he led Mateo inside, Rio’s mind raced. The ranch was no place to raise a kid alone, especially one who clearly didn’t want to be there. He could barely keep himself together some days, let alone a five-year-old. As Mateo sat stiffly at the kitchen table, still clutching his bear, Rio’s thoughts turned to a solution.

He didn’t need just a housekeeper or a nanny—he needed a partner. Someone who could help him navigate fatherhood and bring stability to both their lives. The idea churned in his gut as he poured lemonade for Mateo, but by the time the boy tentatively took the glass, Rio had made up his mind.

He needed a wife.

CLARA WHITFIELD tugged her coat tighter around her shoulders, shivering as the wind rattled the loose windows of her aging sedan. In the backseat, her three-year-old daughter, Emmy, slept curled under a blanket, flanked by their two dogs. The animals’ warmth was the only reason Clara hadn’t frozen completely. She pressed her hands to her mouth, breathing into them for a semblance of heat, and glanced at the dashboard clock. Midnight.

Another long night with no end in sight.

The campsite she’d parked at wasn’t officially open for the season, but the attendant had taken pity on her, waving the fee when she’d explained her “stopover.” The truth was harder to admit: she had nowhere else to go. She’d sold her ranch to Rio Montoya months ago, but most of the proceeds had gone to pay off the mountain of debt her late husband had accumulated. Eddie had been a terrible manager and had flat-out refused to let her take over their finances. By the time everything was settled, Clara was left nearly destitute, with no cushion to fall back on.

She remembered the closing day vividly, the first and only time she had met Rio in person. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with commanding, pale jade eyes and an air of quiet strength that seemed to fill the room.
His rugged features and calloused hands spoke of hard work, a stark contrast to her late husband, whose gentle charm had masked his inability to handle responsibility. He hadn’t even wanted Emmy, leaving Clara to shoulder both parenting and their rocky marriage alone.

Their relationship had been on the verge of collapse when Eddie died from a heart attack, the symptoms of which he had ignored until it was too late.

She had been fascinated by Rio, despite herself, struck by how different he was from anyone she had ever known. Now, she was down to her last few dollars, with winter closing in and no plan for what came next.

The dogs stirred as Clara’s phone buzzed in her lap. She fumbled with cold fingers to unlock the screen, revealing an email notification: Welcome to Texas Tenderhearts, the premier mail-order bride service! A lump formed in her throat as she stared at the cheerful banner. She’d hesitated for days before signing up, her pride screaming at her to find another way.

But for Emmy, Clara had to set her pride aside. Her daughter deserved a warm home, stability, and a future—not nights spent huddled in a car with the faint hope they’d wake up to kinder weather. Clara opened the app and scrolled through the profiles. Most were faceless men with short descriptions: “Looking for a kind wife.” “Seeking someone to share ranch life.”

And then one name caught her eye: Rio Montoya.
Her chest tightened. She knew the name, of course. The man who’d bought her ranch. A man she’d sworn to forget, though she’d always secretly admired his strength. His profile was straightforward: Seeking a partner to build a life on the ranch. Must love kids.

She hesitated, her finger hovering over the button to set up an appointment. Could she face him again, knowing how much she’d lost? Could she put Emmy’s future in the hands of a man who didn’t owe her anything?

Clara’s gaze shifted to her sleeping daughter, taking in Emmy’s delicate features. Her white-blonde hair fell in soft waves over her porcelain complexion, her tiny nose and rosy cheeks making her look like a doll. Emmy was dainty and precious, a beacon of innocence in Clara’s harsh reality. Emmy didn’t deserve to suffer for Clara’s pride. With a deep breath, Clara clicked the button.

If she had to take this leap for Emmy, she would.

For her, Clara would do anything.