The Rancher's Christmas Princess
Page 19
Lucy was crying. “Oh, Monty. I love you. You know that I do.”
Monty moaned. “Say it again.”
“I love you. I do. I love you so much. But you’re always so busy, you never have time for me.”
“I love you, too. You gotta know that. And it’s for us, Luce. I’m working for us, for our future, for you and for me and for the kids we’re gonna have someday.... And why did you have to come here?” He sent a baleful glance in Preston’s general direction. “Come lookin’ for him?”
“Oh, don’t you see?” Lucy took the rag away from her nose long enough to swipe at her eyes. “It’s the only way I can get your attention, to try and make you jealous just a little....” She touched his shoulder.
He groaned in pain.
“Oh!” she cried. “Oh, my honey bear, I’m so sorry. Does it hurt so very much?”
“Say it again,” he muttered low and with real passion.
“Honey bear, you’re my honey bear. My own, sweet, handsome honey bear...”
Silas made a groaning sound. It had nothing to do with physical pain. When Belle glanced at him, he started making frantic gestures that she should step in and do a little nursing—and shut those two up while she was at it.
Belle cleared her throat. “Excuse me, I’m a nurse. I understand an ambulance has been called. But if you don’t mind, I would like to have a quick look at both of you, just to be certain there’s nothing that requires immediate attention.”
Lucy’s blond head whipped around. “Oh! You’re the princess, right? How do you do, Your Royal Highness?”
“I am perfectly well, thank you. And please, call me Belle. Now let’s have a look at your husband first, shall we?”
“Whatever you need to do, Your Majesty. Just ease his pain, ease my honey bear’s terrible pain.”
“I’ll, er, do my best.” She sent a glance toward the huddle of men. “Would one of you get some ice for Lucy’s nose, please?”
“You got it.” Silas headed for the kitchen.
Belle examined Monty. She had Preston help her immobilize his injured leg. For the shoulder, she warned Monty to keep it still and hoped the ambulance would be quick in coming. Dislocations were terribly painful, but he really should have X-rays before anyone attempted to put the bone back into the socket.
She was just turning to have a look at Lucy when they heard the ambulance siren approaching.
A half hour later, Lucy and Monty were off to the hospital in Missoula. Preston turned on the Christmas lights outside and Belle turned on the ones inside. Charlotte came downstairs and reported that Ben had gone back to sleep. They agreed it was a good sign that he’d recovered from the painful incident so quickly. Charlotte went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate. The men joined them at the kitchen table. They drank chocolate and ate big slices of Doris’s cranberry-orange bread and waited for the tow trucks to arrive.
It was after three when the two wrecked vehicles were finally towed from the yard. The ranch hands said goodnight and went back to the cabin. In an hour or two, they would be up again, seeing to the horses and cattle and the chickens in the run out back. So would Preston. Ranch work never ended. Chores had to be done even on Christmas morning.
Marcus left them for his solitary room off the kitchen.
Charlotte and Silas said good-night. Their arms around each other, they turned for the house across the yard. Belle smiled to see them go. It was the first time Charlotte hadn’t come up with some excuse for why she was going home with Preston’s father.
Charlotte needed no excuse. Not anymore. She had found her love.
That left Preston and Belle standing alone on the shadowed front porch of the main house. He opened the door for her. She went in and turned off the inside Christmas lights and thought how she’d be turning them on again in just a few more hours, how she only wished she would be turning those lights on and off at Christmastime for the rest of her days.
But too often in life, a woman’s dearest wish is not destined to come true.
She stood at the big window that looked out over the yard in front and watched the outside Christmas lights go dark as Preston turned them off. Her eyes adjusted quickly and she studied the old pine in the light of the moon. The trunk was newly scarred from the impact of Lucy’s red pickup. But the tree still stood tall. It would probably be standing there for years to come.
“Belle.”
It was Preston’s voice from the doorway to the foyer behind her. So deep and strong, but tender, too. The sound sent a warm shiver through her. Hope rose anew.
He said, “Monty Polk is a stone idiot, but at least he’s got the guts to tell his woman how he feels about her.”
She turned to him then. “Oh, Preston...”
And then he said, “Belle, I can’t take this anymore. I should be a bigger man. I should let you go. But if you still...” His voice caught. Her heart soared. “Anything, Belle,” he said at last in a rough rumble. “I’ll do anything if you’ll only give me one more chance.”
Chapter Fourteen
Inside, she was trembling.
But her outstretched hand was steady. “All you ever had to do was be willing to give the two of us a chance.”
He came to her, his boots eating up the space between them in three long strides. He took her hand. As his rough fingers closed around hers, warmth suffused her. She knew the sweetest sensation. It was joy, pure and simple. He said, “It’s all been so fast. In an instant. Do you realize it’s been only three weeks since I walked into the Sweet Stop and found you sitting there?”
She gazed up at him. She would never grow tired of looking at him. Even in the dim light of the darkened room, his blue eyes were shining. “I knew you were someone special, Preston. From that very first moment.”
“And I knew you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. And also a million miles above me.”
“No, that’s not so—except maybe in your mind. Since I met you, I’ve only wanted to stand beside you. And the way I remember it, you did ask me to dinner right then and there. Hardly the first move of a man who’s decided he’s beneath me.”
He chuckled then, a somewhat baffled sound. “I don’t know what got into me. I was thinking how I would never have a chance with you. And then, a second later, I was asking you out.”
“And I was...in turmoil. I wanted to go out with you—for your own sake. And that was completely inappropriate. I needed to be thinking about how to tell you that Anne had died and left you a son.”
“Come here,” he commanded, rough and tender at once. “Come close....”
“Oh, Preston.” She swayed against him, wrapped her arms around his lean waist, tipped her face up to look at him. “I’ve been so angry at you. It’s been horrible.”
“Yeah.” He put a finger under her chin, caressed her cheek. “I knew you were. But I was stuck on the idea that I was doing the right thing, that it could never work with us in the long run. That we were just...something perfect and magical and not meant to last, something beautiful that happened one holiday season. I had this idea that I should let you go now, for your sake, because you could do a lot better....”
“That’s not so.”
He touched her lips with his thumb. “I don’t know. Maybe it is.”
“It’s not.”
“Well, it seemed so to me. And I also, well, I wanted to get losing you over with. I told myself that it would only be harder when you walked away later.”
“Who said I would walk away later?”
“I just assumed. That you would grow tired of me, that you’d get bored living here.”
“I thought we talked about that.”
“Yeah. Well. I guess I wasn’t listening.”
Remembering the pain of that night made an ache in the back of her throat. “It hurt so much to think I had lost you already when I had only just found you.”
He gathered her in, so he had both of those big arms around her at last. He kissed her hair. “I�
��m here. I’m...stepping up.”
She sighed and leaned her head on his broad chest. Home, she thought. Right here. This is my home. “This moment?” She made the two words a question.
“Yeah?”
“This is the best Christmas present I’ve ever received.” Tears welled then. He must have heard them in her voice because he tipped her chin up again and bent close to kiss those tears away.
When he lifted his head, he whispered, “I’m ashamed to tell you...”
She held his gaze. “Anything. Whatever’s bothering you, whatever needs saying, you can say it to me. You have to say it to me. You have to give us a chance to work through the things that are getting in our way.”
“I’m afraid, that’s all. I’m shaking in my boots. And a man doesn’t like to admit he’s afraid.”
She searched his face. “But why?”
He sucked in a slow breath, as though drawing in courage right along with the oxygen. “Maybe your folks won’t like me, won’t approve of your hooking up with some small-town horse rancher.”
“Oh, Preston...”
“Don’t make light of that. Please.” The words seemed dredged up from the deepest part of him. “It’s not a light thing. Not to me. That you might turn to me one day and suddenly realize that I’m not smooth or sophisticated, that I’m not from your world. That you’ll end up wondering what you ever saw in me.”
She hastened to reassure him. “I wouldn’t. I’m not. And in all the ways that matter, we are from the same world. You are stalwart and true-hearted. You are strong and good and you only want to do the right thing. You are all the things a man should be—all the things I’ve ever dreamed of in a man.”
“You make me sound like some...shining ideal of manly perfection.” There was humor in his eyes now.
And she was glad to see it. “That is exactly what you are—and as far as your being worried my family won’t accept you, don’t be. Wait until you meet them. They respect the things that really count in a person, things like honesty and keeping your word and living up to your agreements. And they want real happiness for their children. As long as I find the right man for me, they will be happy for me.”
“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“Just wait. You’ll see.”
He caught her hand, brought it to his lips. “I know that it’s only been three weeks since I first saw you, but I am certain of what’s in my heart. These last few days of being apart from you, even though we’ve both been right here in the same house...these last few days have made me see the truth. It’s too late for me to walk away and not get hurt. I...” He hesitated, drew in another slow breath. And then, at last, he said it. “I love you, Belle.”
Pure happiness filled her. “Oh, Preston. I love you, too.”
“I want us to be a family—you and me and Ben. And my dad and Charlotte. All together. I think we could make a good life, you and me.”
“I do, too. Absolutely.”
“I’m willing to talk about moving to Montedoro. I guess a man can raise horses there as well as here.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think that will be necessary. But I will need to travel. I have my work.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Of course. As long as you come home to me.”
“Always. Oh, yes.”
“And sometimes, maybe, Ben and I could come along. I think it would be good for him. And for me. To get out, see the world, to see firsthand the work you do—and you don’t have to say yes yet. You can...take your time. Think it over.”
“Preston.”
“What?”
“Are you listening?”
“You know that I am.”
“Then I have thought it over and the answer is yes.”
“Belle.” He whispered her name like a sacred prayer. “You’ve been through a lot, losing Anne, coming all the way to Montana just to give up the little boy you only wanted to keep.”
“Did you hear me, Preston? Yes.”
“I’m going to ask you again next month. And the month after that. You need time. I’m not going to push you.”
“What part of yes is unclear to you, Preston?”
“No part of yes is unclear to me. Just...humor me, won’t you?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Yes. That is my answer. Now, next month—and always.”
He kissed her. And then he said so tenderly, “Now, that’s the best Christmas present I ever had.”
Epilogue
Three months later
Captain Marcus Desmarais had been home for more than a month now.
He’d been proud to serve as security for Her Highness Arabella during her recent extended stay in the United States. He had great respect and admiration for the princess—for all of the Bravo-Calabretti family.
And when Her Highness had decided to marry the father of her lost friend’s baby, Marcus had been offered the chance to make the assignment in Montana permanent. He had turned down the offer.
Marcus was Montedoran to the core. He was proud to go where his country needed him. But to leave Montedoro for years?
Never.
His life was here, in the country of his birth. He had come from nothing, up through the Sovereign’s Guard and into the newly formed Covert Command Unit created by His Highness Alexander, third-born of the four Bravo-Calabretti princes. Marcus loved his work and he was advancing swiftly and steadily. He lived to serve his country.
And his new orders should be up on the CCU website that day. Marcus fully expected another security assignment, which meant another trip out of the homeland most likely. Being a bodyguard to the princely family was an honor and he was good at it.
The CCU was a force of only fifty: fifty of Montedoro’s best, brightest and strongest. Montedoro had no standing army. There was the Sovereign’s Guard and the Civil Defense Corps. Beyond the Guard and the Corps, it was for the CCU to do it all, from providing protection for the princely family, to extracting Montedoran citizens from wrongful imprisonment worldwide, to targeting and eliminating threats to Montedoran security and the safety of its people.
At a little before nine that morning, Marcus entered his office cubicle at CCU headquarters not far from the Prince’s Palace. He turned on his computer and logged in to the CCU site.
The orders were there, as expected.
One look at them had his stomach dropping into his boots and his blood spurting so furiously through his veins that he felt as though his head would explode. He had to read the cursed thing through several times before he finally accepted what he saw.
He was to provide personal security for Her Serene Highness Rhiannon, who would be attending her sister’s wedding in Montana with the rest of the princely family.
Rhia. He thought the forbidden form of her name before he could stop himself. This cannot be happening.
He wouldn’t let it happen. Surely there had to be some way to...
He cut the pointless notion short. He had his orders and there was no getting out of them. To try and change them would only draw attention to the fact that he wanted them changed. It would have the higher-ups asking questions he didn’t want anyone to ask, lest they somehow stumble upon the answer.
There was nothing to do but accept the inevitable. He was a soldier. He would do his duty and do it well. The past was the past.
It was years ago. It never should have happened.
He would wipe it from his mind.
* * * * *
Watch for Rhiannon and Marcus’s story, HER HIGHNESS AND THE BODYGUARD, coming in April 2013, only from Harlequin Special Edition.
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Chapter One
It happened too quickly for him to even think about it.
One minute, in a moment of exasperated desperation—because he hadn’t yet bought a gift for Caroline’s birthday—Cody found himself walking into the refurbished antique store that had, up until a few months ago, been called The Tattered Saddle.
The next minute, he was hurrying across the room and managed—just in time—to catch the young woman who was tumbling off a ladder.
Before he knew it, his arms were filled with the soft curves of the same young woman.
She smelled of lavender and vanilla, nudging forth a sliver of a memory he couldn’t quite catch hold of.
That was the way Cody remembered it when he later looked back on the way his life had taken a dramatic turn toward the better that fateful morning.
When he’d initially walked by the store’s show window, Cody had automatically looked in. The shop appeared to be in a state of semi-chaos, but it still looked a great deal more promising than when that crazy old coot Jasper Fowler ran it.
Cody vaguely recalled hearing that the man hadn’t really been interested in making any sort of a go of the shop. The whole place had actually just been a front for a money-laundering enterprise. At any rate, the antique shop had been shut down and boarded up in January, relegated to collecting even more dust than it had displayed when its doors had been open to the public.
What had caught his eye was the notice Under new ownership in the window and the store’s name—The Tattered Saddle—had been crossed out. But at the moment, there was no new name to take its place. He had wondered if that was an oversight or a ploy to draw curious customers into the shop.