With the aid of the light, Ricky spotted the worn Aesop’s Fables that he’d kept in his saddlebags, a gift from Breanna when he’d been a teen. He stuffed it in his pack.
“Don’t leave.” Beau’s blanket rustled, and the other cowboy sat up, planting his sock feet on the plank floor.
“I have to,” Ricky mumbled. “It’ll be better for her. Easier.”
“You sure it won’t be easier for you?” the other cowboy challenged.
“You think this is easy?” Ricky demanded in a whisper. “I’m in love with her.”
Admitting it out loud was like the punch he’d received the other night. He wasn’t expecting the crushing blow and he sat back in his bunk under the weight of the admission.
He was. He was in love with her.
“You told me the other day to fight if I liked the girl—if you’re in love with Daisy, don’t leave.”
He’d learned to listen when the quiet cowboy spoke. But how could he trust Beau’s advice when Beau had no experience with the opposite sex?
But how could he not?
The very idea of walking away from Daisy was like a knife to his innards. Felt as if it could suffocate him.
“At least think on it tonight, wait until the morning.”
He didn’t answer Beau, just flopped back in his bunk, bringing one arm to cover his eyes.
He’d been running for so long...from what he’d done in his childhood, from the man he’d become.
Was leaving the right thing now? Or just a habit ingrained in him so strong it felt like part of his marrow?
*
Ricky didn’t have an answer when the sun came up the next morning. He’d spent the sleepless night praying, begging God for a clear answer. He didn’t know if he should stay and try to win over Daisy. Or go and rip his heart out but allow her to heal.
He had no idea what path he was supposed to take.
Even as he saddled up his horse, he was unsure if he was supposed to climb back up in the loft and grab his pack and ride out of there. Or stay.
Owen met him in the barnyard in the predawn light. Ricky had been watching smoke curl up from the chimney, imagining Daisy inside the house. Wondering what she was doing. If she was still crying.
“How is she?” Ricky asked, because he couldn’t help himself.
The other man considered him. Ricky hated standing under the scrutiny, feeling a hundred times more exposed than he had been the other day in the boss’s office. But he withstood it.
“Upset,” the man finally answered.
Ricky nodded. She had a right to be upset. He’d held something back from her, his presence, how he’d caused the event that had changed her life.
“This was the reason I didn’t want you two courting,” Owen said. “I didn’t want her hurt.”
Ricky nodded. “My pa is just as protective of his daughters. For the record, I never wanted to hurt her.”
“Wantin’ ain’t got nuthin’ to do with doin’.”
He knew that. Oh, how he knew that after everything he’d been responsible for.
“You leavin’?”
Ricky shifted his feet. Now was the time. He had to make a decision. Stay? Or go?
“You askin’ me to?” he asked.
Owen’s eyes narrowed. “I should.”
The but I won’t went unspoken.
And there wasn’t really a decision for Ricky, either. His gut wrenched, but he said, “I’d like to stay. Prove to her that I ain’t the kind of man who walks away.”
Owen’s jaw shifted. “You hurt her again, you’re off my property.” He looked away, eyes on the lightening horizon. “I figure a man deserves a chance to prove himself.”
It was a warning.
But it was more than Ricky had hoped for. His heart rose to his throat. “Thank you. Sir.”
Their eyes met and they nodded the acknowledgment of what had passed between them.
“I’d like to ride out with you and Ned and Beau today. I want to bring the sheep up to the closer pasture—that coyote has been sneaking around again.”
Ricky nodded. It would be a cold, hard day.
But he wasn’t afraid of hard work.
The question was, could he work hard enough to prove himself to Daisy again?
*
Daisy let her curtain flick back in place. From her upstairs bedroom window, she’d been watching Papa talking to Ricky in the barnyard for several minutes.
“Maybe Papa will fire him,” Belinda said from her perch on Daisy’s bed.
I don’t want him to be fired. But she didn’t voice the thought aloud.
She didn’t want to talk about him but had made the mistake of answering when Belinda had asked what she was watching out in the yard.
She went to the bureau and mirror, feeling a bit like a caged bird. The room that had been her solace for so long now made her feel trapped. But she was afraid to leave it, for fear of running into Ricky.
His betrayal still cut to the bone.
How could Ricky have not told her that he’d been there that night, that he’d been one of the men brawling in the street? How could Papa have not told her about Ricky’s part in it?
If not for the cowboy, she would still have her arm. She would still be beautiful. Able to run the ranch when her papa retired. Able to hold a baby without worrying she’d drop it.
The familiar excuses didn’t burden her as much as they had previously. With Ricky’s inventions in the kitchen, she could still cook and bake, chop things and pour out of a pitcher without spilling liquid all over the place.
She was learning to make do.
And who was to say that if Ricky hadn’t been present, someone else wouldn’t have gotten into a drunken brawl in the street?
It had been an accident. Unforeseen. She’d thought she was perfectly safe, waiting in the wagon for her papa. How could she have known the horses would spook?
It was a blessing she was alive, and she refused to take that for granted.
But she still couldn’t forgive him for not telling her. If she’d known from the beginning that he simply felt sorry for her and was trying to make reparations, she would’ve protected her heart better. She never would have fallen for the charming cowboy.
Daisy lifted her hand and attempted to pinch some color into her cheeks, but her eyes remained dull and lifeless.
Belinda got up from the bed, throwing down the book she’d been fiddling with. In the mirror, Daisy watched her sister cross to the window and push aside the curtain, where Daisy had been only moments ago.
“He should tell that cowboy to leave,” Belinda said again.
Daisy remained silent, though she was impatient with Belinda’s behavior. Her sister had treated Beau callously, inviting him to the social and then ignoring him. For a moment, she wished she and Belinda had a closer relationship.
Her sister would never know how much Ricky had really come to mean to Daisy.
Ricky would leave soon enough. Hadn’t he told her that it was his habit to move on? He’d warned her about his past relationships with other women, even cautioning her not to get involved with him.
His regretful, repentant spirit over the past had touched her heart, especially that day down at the creek when he’d mourned for the woman in the burning cabin.
Remembering that day, the kisses they’d shared, was painful.
Had he felt sorry for her even then, been close to her out of some mangled sense of guilt over what had happened?
She couldn’t trust his motivations, not after she’d found out that nothing between them had been real.
She’d begun to feel alive again. He made her feel beautiful again.
And it had all been based on a lie.
She allowed her eyes to travel her form in the mirror, as she had so many times after the accident, though not recently.
She’d seen the looks she’d received from women and men alike, both the night of the social and at the church service yesterday. She was d
ifferent. An anomaly.
Daisy reached up and touched the stump of her arm that remained after the rest had been lost.
Ugly.
Unattractive to the opposite sex.
Ricky had been the only one interested in her, and she’d hoped for more.
And now to find out that he’d lied—
Her hopes for a future were shattered at her feet.
There was no suitor for her. No marriage in her future.
Who could want to be with a woman like her, one who wasn’t whole?
No one.
*
Daisy had been dreading the talk she would receive from Audra all morning. The woman pushed and pushed, always challenging Daisy.
The expected attack came as Daisy was washing the dishes after the quiet lunch the three women had shared. Papa had ordered the twins to ride out with him and Ned and the two cowboys to work with the herd, and Audra had allowed it.
Now, up to her elbow in hot, sudsy water, Daisy scrubbed at the corner of a bread pan where a crust had burnt on, attempting to ignore Audra’s silent-yet-loud presence behind her.
No such luck. Audra joined her at the washtub. “Let’s switch. Why don’t you dry, dear?”
She shrugged and moved to the counter, where earlier she’d placed two towels out to catch the clean dishes.
“What are you going to do about your cowboy?” Audra asked.
Daisy wasn’t surprised at her blunt question, not anymore.
“He’s not my cowboy,” she mumbled as she took the clean pan from her stepmother and began patting it dry.
For once, Audra didn’t argue or push, just waited.
As the silence swelled between them, Daisy finally burst out, “I suppose I’ll keep working at getting back to normal. Some tasks are coming easier to me now. I’m sure with more practice I’ll relearn others.”
She’d thought that the answer would be enough for Audra, proof that she was improving, at least thinking of moving on with her life.
“Hmm. Like bridling your horse?” Audra handed her a plate.
The soft question reminded her of the unfinished task. And Ricky’s help. How he’d calmed her that last time.
She didn’t want to think about him. She rubbed the plate dry with more force than was strictly necessary, the action a reflection of her agitation.
“Maybe. Maybe tacking up the livestock is like sewing, something I’ll have to give up on.” She couldn’t imagine a way to sew with only one hand. How would she hold the fabric? Better to concentrate on the tasks that were doable.
“Or perhaps you shouldn’t give up so easily,” Audra said quietly.
Daisy jerked, setting the plate on the counter with a too-loud clunk. She couldn’t believe Audra would dare say that.
“Are you talking about the task or the man?” she demanded, facing Audra directly.
Her stepmother calmly turned away from the washtub, drying her hands on the apron she wore over her day dress. Calm, in contrast to the emotional upheaval Daisy felt.
“Regardless of what you might think, I’m not your enemy, young lady.”
Daisy’s shoulders tensed. But Audra wasn’t done yet.
“I love your father, and that means I love his family. I love you. I want the best for you. That’s why I didn’t want you hiding out on this ranch, afraid to go out in public.”
Well, that was...nice.
It had been a long time since Daisy had had the comfort of a mother. And she and Audra were still getting to know each other. “Thank you,” she said stiffly.
“I know that cowboy hurt you by not telling you the truth up front. What he did was wrong. We both know that. But I think you’re gonna regret it if you just let him walk out of your life.”
Daisy shook her head, turning away and looking out the window. “How could I ever trust him again? Knowing what he’s kept from me?”
“I’m not saying you should marry the man,” Audra said. “I’m saying that maybe you should think on it. Give it a few days to sink in, remember the things that have passed between you two. Find out if you can forgive him, so you can move on. With or without him.”
Forgive.
“I don’t know if I can,” she said stiffly. It was impossible to fathom, knowing that he was the one, that he’d been right here all along.
That he’d made her feel like a woman again, and it had all been based on his guilty conscience.
“Perhaps that’s what you need to find out.”
Daisy was relieved when Audra insisted on finishing the dishes herself. Her stepmother’s calm, reasonable manner rubbed the wrong way, like a blister in a boot, against Daisy’s emotional upheaval.
She still didn’t know what to do.
Without that task to do, Daisy felt unmoored, at loose ends.
She stood by the back door for a long time, staring at nothing, before she finally donned her coat and made her way out to the barn. The men would likely be gone all day, so there was no danger of running into Ricky out here, not today.
It was time to resolve at least one thing. For herself, and no one else.
Out in the barn, the familiar smells were comforting. Prince was happy to see her, whickering in welcome when she approached his stall.
“What do you think, old friend?” she asked. “Do you want to go riding with me today?”
He accepted her affectionate scratch of his nose, met her forehead to forehead. He’d always been a friend. And it was more than time for this.
She led him out of the stall and they plodded together to the back of the barn where Ricky had hung his bridle contraption. The bridle was still rigged to it from her previous failed attempt.
She met the horse’s eye steadily before taking off his halter and sidling up shoulder to head with him. She wrapped her arm beneath his chin and rested her fingertips on his nose.
She clucked softly and he stepped forward in time with her, stuck his nose into the suspended bridle.
He was doing it! Hope and confidence grew, like a shoot tentatively sticking its head up for the first time in the spring.
His nostrils quivered.
“Easy, Prince,” she encouraged him. “C’mon now.”
She removed her hand from his nose, bringing it down to the bit, gently guiding the bit between his lips, between his teeth.
He stood still as she unhooked the bridle from its suspension, one clasp at a time, then slid the last leather strap behind his ears.
Then finally, buckled it against his cheek.
“We did it,” she whispered, scratching beneath his forelock.
Joy thrilled through her, but she kept her calm, not wanting to spook the animal with the loud shout of elation that begged to escape.
She’d bridled Prince! And he’d been so calm, she knew she could do it again.
She led the horse over to the nearest stall. He sidled close under her direction, and she was able to use the post to get a leg up, and then she was up on the horse, bareback.
She rode him through the open barn door, out into the yard, and then kicked him into a gallop as they left the yard behind and flew into the pasture.
With the cold wind in her face, the animal moving beneath her and her hair flying loose behind her, she felt free.
The wind in her face brought tears, or maybe she was crying, she didn’t know.
For the first time since she’d woken after the accident, she felt that she could survive. She might not be able to do a great many things, but she could ride.
And it was all because of Ricky and his inventions.
More than that, because of his confidence in her. He had given her the confidence, but she owned it.
He’d believed that she could slice a loaf of bread. Pushed her into caring for her family when there was no one else to do it.
Provided support when she’d been scared to face her friends.
He’d been there all along.
Because he was that kind of man. He might’ve been a drunk, a
carouser, someone who ran away from his problems before.
But he wasn’t that man anymore. He’d proved it over and over.
No one had made him stay in the beginning. He’d worked for her father for months before they’d even been introduced.
And couldn’t he have left with his father? She’d been well on her way to discovering that there were still tasks she could perform even with her limitations.
But he hadn’t.
It was true, he hadn’t told her about his part in the accident. But every action he’d taken since then had been proving he was a man she could trust.
But could she forgive him?
Chapter Nineteen
Late that night, Ricky was out with the flock. Ned had insisted on a night watch as they worried over the predator stalking the sheep. Though Ricky had the boss’s okay to stay on as a hired hand, it was abundantly clear Ned didn’t like Ricky.
Sitting in the saddle, he’d bundled up in his slicker and wrapped himself in a blanket and was still cold.
He just hoped the morning came soon.
Everything was quiet and still, and he couldn’t keep his thoughts from going to Daisy.
He didn’t know if she would ever be able to forgive him. But he intended to make himself indispensable until she told him to leave.
She was worth it. She was special.
He sang a little to his horse and to keep himself awake. The flock was quiet, only the occasional movement or bleating sheep.
He let his horse wander a bit. No doubt the animal was cold, too.
He found himself facing the house and barn, though he was far enough out that he couldn’t see them over the horizon.
But as he watched, an orange glow lit the night sky. From far away. From the farmhouse?
Fear leaped into his throat and he kicked his horse, shouting, “Hiyah!”
A glow that bright could mean only one thing. Fire.
Fear for Daisy and her family had him spurring the horse for more speed. The icy air pelted his cheeks, and he found himself praying that he was imagining it.
He wasn’t.
The orange glow grew brighter the closer he got.
He closed in on the barnyard and faced his worst nightmare. The barn was ablaze, flames shooting from the roof and out the now-broken loft window. Sparks swirled into the night sky and showered down from the gaping maw of the barn door. Acrid smoke billowed from the structure at every orifice, so thick Ricky choked on it even as he rode into the barnyard.
A Cowboy for Christmas (Mills & Boon Love Inspired Historical) (Wyoming Legacy - Book 5) Page 20