Westin’s Wyoming

by Alice Sharpe

  Beautiful woman and interesting undercurrents aside, this was all just too bizarre. “Listen, folks,” Pierce said calmly, “this has been…well, interesting, anyway, but there’s a storm approaching. I don’t know what kind of deal you made with Cody, but I don’t have time to—”

  “There isn’t a doubt in my mind you’re one of Melissa Browning’s sons,” the woman said. “You look just like her. Same dark hair, same gray eyes.”

  “You know my mother?”

  “No, not exactly, but I do see you bear a striking resemblance.”

  She had dazzled him with her looks, aroused his curiosity with a couple of telltale signs of apprehension, but to hear her accented voice speak his mother’s name—her maiden name at that—just kicked it all into overdrive. “How in the world do you know what my mother looks like?”

  “I’ve upset you,” she said softly.

  “Nothing about her can upset me,” he said as his gut clenched. Liar…

  “I’m so relieved. Actually, I saw a photograph of her taken when she was young.”

  He stepped back a few inches. “Who are you? What are you and all these other people doing here?”

  She rested her hands on the boy’s shoulders. “This is my cousin, Toby.”

  “No, Analise,” the child protested, looking up at her. “You promised you’d call me Tex.”

  She smiled down at him. “My mistake, Tex. And this gentleman—” here she nodded at the older man “—is General Kaare. I am Analise Emille.” She frowned, her forehead wrinkling just a little, her luscious lips slightly puckered. “You weren’t expecting us?”

  “Not exactly,” he admitted. “See, Cody didn’t say much before he…left.”

  The aqua eyes widened. For a second he wondered if she and his brother were fooling around, then he remembered she hadn’t known Pierce wasn’t Cody until he’d announced it. Besides, Cody was still married and he wasn’t the kind of man to get involved with another woman even if he and his wife were estranged.

  “Princess Analise,” the general said smoothly. “Let’s at least get you out of the open.”

  “Princess?” Pierce said softly as the woman reacted to the general’s warning by flinching.

  When she met Pierce’s gaze again, she tried a smile but it looked forced. “You didn’t know that, either, did you?”

  Chapter Two

  “Princess of what exactly?” For the moment, Pierce let the “out of the open” comment slide.

  “Of Chatioux, of course,” the general growled. “Surely you recognize King Thomas’s youngest child, Analise Elsbeth Emille.”

  So that explained the accent. He’d heard of Chatioux—it was one of those little countries tucked somewhere in Northern Europe. As he tried to make sense of a genuine princess visiting the Open Sky Ranch, another man and a middle-aged woman stepped out of the helicopter. They both threw curious glances toward the princess but scurried to the waiting truck, hunkered inside their coats as if freezing. The ranch hand opened doors for them and they climbed inside. Meanwhile, the helicopter pilot began emptying the external luggage bins, piling trunks and cases on the field.

  Pierce turned around and caught Jamie’s eyes. Jamie shrugged and shook his head. Even the horses looked confused.

  “Your brother requested we keep our group small,” the general announced. “The princess and her cousin, one bodyguard, the princess’s attendant, Mr. Vaughn and myself. Six, that is all. We left double that number behind at the hotel in Jackson Hole.”

  Pierce ran a gloved hand over his jaw. What the hell was he supposed to do with royalty in March on a cattle ranch? This was insane and he found himself itching to ask his usually predictable brother what in the world he’d been thinking.

  Maybe the ranch was losing money and had started taking paying guests… Maybe Adam’s push into organic beef wasn’t panning out the way everyone hoped it would…

  Man, if that was true, did his dad know? Impossible to wrap his brain around the old man agreeing to turn the Open Sky into a damn dude ranch.

  “Let me explain something,” Pierce began. “If you get caught in the weather system that’s coming, you might end up in Wyoming for days. Considering the fact Cody isn’t here as planned and I wasn’t expecting people of your stature, it would be best to reschedule your visit. I’ll see about a refund—”

  “I don’t understand,” the princess said. “Refund of what?”

  “If you paid something up front—”

  “Paid!” the general barked. “We do not pay!”

  Okay, so there was no money involved. That wasn’t it. “Sorry,” Pierce said. “I just assumed—”

  “It seems your brother kept his word to say nothing of our identity,” the general added. “That kind of honor is admirable. I should liked to have met him.”

  “Exactly,” Pierce said. “And that’s why it would be best all around if you people leave now and reschedule a visit for after Cody gets home. We’ll just get your stuff back in the chopper and—”

  “But I want to stay,” the boy cried in panic. He looked longingly toward Jamie who with his bowed legs and ancient chaps did look the part of a real cowboy. “Look how big the brown horse is and it has a white star on its forehead just like the one in my book. Can we have a campfire with real grub?”

  “It’s twenty-three degrees out here,” Pierce said.

  The princess touched his arm and turned her back to the others. He turned with her. She took a few steps and he followed. “I understand your reservations about hosting us, Mr. Westin, I really do,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper but it sure traveled through his body like a hot tornado. “I can’t explain right now why it’s so important for us to stay for just a day, but will you trust me that it is? Please? And, well, it means so much to my cousin.”

  Pierce took a deep breath as he gazed into her eyes. Not a movie star, not a paying guest, just a beautiful princess with a quiver in her voice as if denying her would crush her. He glanced back at the little boy who appeared damn close to crying.

  Cripes.

  “If it’s money—” she began.

  “No, no,” he said. “It’s not money.” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she was afraid of and if that’s why she needed to stay on the ranch but he didn’t. For now it would suffice that it was important to her—hell, be honest, what else did he have to do for the next twenty-four hours that was any more important than giving aid and, dare he hope, comfort to a gorgeous woman? “We have an indoor arena,” he said at last. “I guess we could build a campfire in there.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Princess Analise said with an exhaled breath.

  “Could we bring a cow inside?” the child asked hopefully. He’d obviously been eavesdropping.

  “Why not?” Pierce said, lips twitching.

  “Can we also visit the very small house we flew over?”

  “The very small house?”

  “Over there,” he said, pointing east.

  “The ice-fishing shanty,” Jamie volunteered. He’d apparently moved closer when the child had the good sense to compliment Jamie’s favorite mare. “Adam painted it yellow last fall. You folks must have seen that.”

  “Adam?”

  “My other brother.”

  “That’s right, I forgot. There are three of you, right?”

  And how did she know that? “Yeah. Three.”

  “The fishing shanty did look interesting from the air,” she said, adding, “though it’s very remote. I would love to see what it’s like inside. At home, ours are sometimes quite charming.”

  “I doubt this one would qualify as charming,” Pierce said.

  “I’ll show it to you, ma’am,” Jamie offered, a slight blush creeping up his wrinkled neck. “And as far as a campfire, we built a big old covered pavilion a couple of years ago for Cody’s wedding. It’s got gas heaters and everything.”

  “That sounds perfect,” Princess Analise said.

  Seeing th
e ranch hand had started piling their luggage in the back of the truck, Pierce strode over and hefted a couple of suitcases. The sooner they got going, the sooner he’d find out what was really going on. Being back in Wyoming was not his idea of a great time. Being with a very attractive woman who just happened to be a little scared and a little nervous and needed his shoulder to cry on—well, that was right up his alley.

  “I am going to have an adventure!” the boy cried. “You, too, Cousin Analise.”

  “The kid is just like you were, Pierce,” Jamie called. “Always ready for action. Hell’s bells, I’d wager you’re still like that.”

  Pierce shook his head as he dumped the last of the luggage in the truck. By now the helicopter engines had once again engaged. The general tried herding the princess and the boy to the idling vehicle but they both hung back near Jamie as the chopper rose into the air and the horses danced around a little but not much. They were used to the ranch aircraft.

  How had a princess from a small country half a world away become familiar with a photograph of Pierce’s long missing mother? Was it possible Princess Analise knew where Melissa Browning Westin was now? Is that why Cody had agreed to this visit?

  If so, why had his older brother left almost on the eve of her arrival and without so much as a word hinting at who was coming and why?

  Pierce pushed his hat back on his head. “The truck only seats six, and what with the driver, I guess someone will have to ride back with Jamie or me.” Looking over at the bald man dressed in black, he raised his voice and added, “I guess you’re it, buddy.”

  But Toby had already run over to Jamie and put a hand on the mare’s glistening brown neck. “I want to ride this one. Is her name Star? May I, please?”

  Jamie chuckled. “I can take the little fella,” he said. “Come on, son, up you go.”

  “And I will ride with you,” Princess Analise announced, looking Pierce straight in the eye. He smiled at her. Fine by him but her announcement seemed to have galvanized the bodyguard who approached like a belligerent bull.

  The general sputtered. “But, Princess. It is hardly necessary or appropriate for you to ride with this man. Nor is it safe—”

  “Nevertheless, I will ride with him,” she said, and there was a change in the timbre of her voice that stopped the bodyguard dead in his tracks and shut down the general.

  The corner of Pierce’s upper lip lifted. Nice to see the princess square her shoulders and jut her chin. He climbed back in the saddle and, freeing a stirrup for her use, extended a hand and pulled her up behind him, smiling to himself as her hands landed on his waist.

  “You will be cautious,” the general said, gaze darting between Pierce and the princess.

  “Sure,” Pierce said.

  Before he could turn the horse, the general caught the bridle. “Once we have suitable accommodations, you will explain what precautions you’ve taken to protect the princess.”

  There it was—the dead fish in the punch bowl, the issue everyone had been skirting around since they landed. The pushy bodyguard, the flustered general, a princess looking over her shoulder…

  “You know, maybe it’s about time someone tells me exactly what she needs protection from,” Pierce said.

  The general raised gray eyebrows. “From whoever is intent on killing her, of course.”

  Chapter Three

  Analise tightened her grip on Pierce as he turned his head slightly and said, “Someone is trying to kill you?”

  She cringed at the theatrics of the general’s statement though there was more than a grain of truth behind it. “Yes,” she said.

  “No wonder the general looked jumpy when you announced you were leaving him and the bodyguard behind.”

  “The general is a very old and trusted friend of my father’s, but I’m a twenty-six-year-old adult and his hovering gets on my nerves.” She instantly regretted speaking out. The general was the general. He was not the reason she was nervous and not the reason she’d insisted on riding with Pierce.

  The past week had passed in a blur as she did her best to pretend she wasn’t worried about death threats or arriving at this ranch. Twenty-four hours from now, this would be over. Well, at least part of it would.

  She took a few deep breaths of blessedly unrecirculated air and concentrated on the moment. The sway of the horse, the faint smell of the pines. The low growl of the truck rumbling behind them. The solid feel of the man whose back she hugged.

  He did resemble the photo she’d seen of his mother, but in a masculine way. At least six feet tall, broad shoulders, gorgeous slate eyes and strong features, a sensuous mouth. Even through the padding of a winter coat, she could tell he was fit and muscular.

  As for the glint in his eyes and the deep voice? Those were masculine, too. Intimidating, perhaps, but in a way that made her feel protected. He looked competent, more than able to take care of himself and anyone else for that matter.

  These thoughts brought up images of the man she was expected to marry next year, a Chatioux nobleman of some distinction. He and Pierce Westin were both in their mid-thirties, but there all similarities ended.

  She wouldn’t think about Ricard right now. She had the rest of her life to do that.

  “Let’s talk about who’s trying to kill you,” Pierce said, glancing over his shoulder again, the flash of his eyes surprisingly warm. “Is this person the reason you came to the ranch? Are you here for refuge?”

  “No, I made arrangements to come here months ago and this situation is relatively new.”

  “Months ago and Cody never told anyone? That’s pretty amazing.”

  A little flutter in her throat kept her from responding immediately. She’d insisted on riding with him to have the privacy in which to reveal the true nature of her visit. Allowing herself to get sidetracked would squander the opportunity.

  “Princess? You still back there?”

  “I want to explain why I begged you to let us stay—”

  “And I’d like to hear it,” he interrupted. “But first tell me about the would-be assassins just in case your general is right and one is hiding behind those rocks over there with a howitzer. Start with what you were doing in Seattle.”

  She glanced at the rocks, then shook her head. “We were attending an environmental symposium.”

  “And someone tried to do what? Shoot you, shove you in front of a bus?”

  “Nothing so direct. Two days ago I received an anonymous note. It warned that if I valued my life, I would convince my father to vote against the natural-gas pipeline proposed for Chatioux. There was no way to respond, but I could have told the writer that while my father will weigh my opinion, in the end will do what is best for our country. He would never put family over duty.”

  “He sounds like my father,” Pierce said.

  “Are you close to your father?”

  “Not exactly,” Pierce said. “I’ve been back here three days and I think we’ve spent all of ten minutes in each other’s company.”

  “Why? What happened between you?”

  He laughed but the sound held little humor. “Don’t try wiggling out of your story by trying to uncover mine. When does the king vote?”

  “In five days. The parliament is divided so my father’s vote will be the deciding factor.”

  “And how is he leaning?”

  “Construction of the pipeline would bring in much-needed revenue. Our country is in the middle of great flux. There aren’t enough jobs to keep our young people employed and they immigrate elsewhere in alarming numbers. We import too many things and export too few. This weakens us socially as well as economically and that puts our national security at risk. It’s all interconnected and Russia would love to see us crumble.”

  She sighed again. “The bottom line is this pipeline would make the difference between a brighter, safer future and a continuing spiral downward resulting in citizen unrest if not out-and-out war on our borders. If environmental concerns can be met, my fath
er has no choice but to embrace it.”

  “Can these concerns be met?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s what you’ll tell him?”

  “Of course. But Mr. Vaughn doesn’t agree with me.”

  “Mr. Vaughn. He’s the diplomat who scurried to the car with the skulking woman?”

  “The woman is Bierta, my personal maid. Mr. Vaughn was Chatioux’s official delegate to the symposium. I was unofficial. He wants everything to stay as it has always been. He claims it’s because of the environment, but I don’t know, he’s kind of odd. And since these threats started, he’s worried he’ll be standing too close if someone tries to kill me.”

  Pierce muttered, “It doesn’t sound like your father trusts this Vaughn fellow’s opinion or he wouldn’t have asked you to go and act as his ears.”

  “My father is a thorough man, a good king. I have ordered everyone to keep this threat a secret from him until after the vote. I do not want him put in the position of having to choose.”

  She didn’t add why. Her father’s declining health was not known outside the family.

  “The general alluded to something that happened in Seattle. Was this separate from the threatening note?”

  “Yes,” she said, the memory of the attack once again vibrant and chilling.

  The horse started down a dip in the road and Analise slid forward against Pierce’s back. It was impossible not to have some body contact, but she did her best to keep it minimal. Forced closer than before, she suddenly noticed the way his hair waved against the back of his neck, right above his collar, dark against his skin, fine and tender-looking. He appeared to have a tan.

  “Princess?”

  She blinked a couple of times as the horse began the climb to the other side of the gully. Her grip tightened around his waist. “On the last day of the symposium, my driver didn’t show up to transport us between hotel and convention center. Mr. Vaughn had rented a car, so he offered to drive but he got terribly lost. We ended up in a bad area of town in a narrow alley where people seemed to be living. Claude, my bodyguard from home, got out of the car when a group of men started pushing at it.” Analise paused. Her pitch had risen as she spoke, the words tumbling one after the other.