Countess in Cowboy Boots

by Jodi O'Donnell

But he didn’t. He couldn’t mislead her, either. Not that he would, only he had a lot of thinking to do before he came up with a new plan.

  Because while he was happy to have confronted his fear of not being able to give a woman what she needed, Will realized he had a new fear: that of not being the man Lacey needed in a happily-ever-after situation.

  * * *

  LACEY STEPPED OUT OF the post office, barely acknowledging Hector Baker’s greeting as he brushed past her, so intent was she on the envelope she held in her hand. The return address indicated it was from Austin. Within it, Lacey knew, was the answer to her request for government funding for her resource center.

  She’d applied for other grants, but this was the big one. If she got funding from the State of Texas, she’d be able to use that to garner attention from other funding sources. Then she’d be able to pay off the loan with the bank and start running the center like a real nonprofit.

  With shaking fingers, she tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter inside, reading quickly.

  Phrases jumped out at her, certain words sticking in her mind and in her throat, too. Words like regret and unfortunately and please try again next year.

  Dazed, Lacey slumped against the brick side of the building. She didn’t know how long she must have remained in that position, but when she finally roused herself, the heat of the late-afternoon sun had seeped through her clothes, making her perspire and draining her of the rest of her energy.

  She folded the letter, blinking rapidly. Yes, there was always next year. She mustn’t let this setback get to her. She’d apply for more grants, and there was plenty of credit left on the equity line.

  But not enough to keep them afloat for another year, especially in that house.

  Her parents had put out feelers around town about selling the mansion, and the news that had come back had been discouraging at best: even pricing it in steal-of-the-century range, the house still stood out as an expensive piece of property for this little town. And even if someone did step forward to buy it, it still was quite a burden to maintain, as Lacey’s parents had discovered.

  She felt even more of a responsibility than ever to see the situation settled to everyone’s benefit.

  Some sixth sense made her look up. There, at the end of the street, was Will, getting out of his pickup in front of the tack and feed. He obviously hadn’t seen her—or had, and chosen not to acknowledge her.

  She could understand if he had. They’d been dancing around each other like this for a week. She had a sense that Will was no closer to an idea on how to handle “breaking off” their engagement than she was, although she’d taken her parents into her confidence. She had to be truthful with them; she owed it to them. Owed it to herself.

  She’d also explained the situation to Jenna the last time she talked to the girl, which had been over five days ago. Lacey still didn’t know why she’d felt compelled to tell the girl, except perhaps to demonstrate to her how there was nothing written in stone, no action at this point which couldn’t be taken back.

  Except there was no taking back what had happened between her and Will. Lacey had given him her trust, she’d given him her heart. Because she loved him, she would not be with him in anything but the most honest of relationships. And this engagement wasn’t honest.

  Lacey clutched the crumpled letter to her chest as she watched Will disappear inside the tack and feed without a glance around, pained by this distance between them after the closeness at the water tank. They were back to protecting their innermost feelings. Oh, she understood why, for each of them had been hurt so terribly in the past. You didn’t automatically throw down walls that had been built to last. But she knew if she and Will were to have a chance, they both had to be able to expose that deepest part of themselves, the part that was so vulnerable and perhaps still healing, even when they were in conflict with each other. Most of all then, in fact. It was how trust grew, how fears were kept from destroying it. And she knew she must feel completely trustful with a man in order to be truly happy.

  Or should she count her blessings at having been given the opportunity to find out what kissing was like with a caring, responsible, good man, even if neither of them might ever reach that level of trust with each other?

  Was she a romantic fool for wanting the fairy-tale kind of love which seemed so complete and unconditional?

  “Now what is that?” Hector Baker said, snapping Lacey out of her absorption. He stood in the doorway to the post office, shading his eyes as he peered down the street.

  Lacey squinted at the large form advancing from the west side of town, but she couldn’t make it out, either, what with the sun pitched directly at eye level and the heat mirages coming off the pavement.

  “It’s probably a semi carrying cattle on its way to one of the ranches to pick up a load,” she guessed aloud.

  Squirreling his mouth around a jaw full of chaw, Hector shut one eye as if sighting down the barrel of a hunting rifle. “Naw, this ain’t just one vehicle.”

  She took another look and saw he was right. In fact, it was a company of what looked like large trucks, cars and vans.

  A tremor of fear spread through her.

  “Looks like a military invasion,” observed Old Man Wilkins, polishing his bifocals on his shirt before setting them back on his nose to get more of a gander from his position on the bench nearby. “Nope, I do believe—”

  “It’s them TV people again!” interjected Vernal Adams with the scoop. “See them antennas and satellite dishes? Now, why would they be comin’ back to Abysmal so soon? Ain’t nothin’ happened in the week since they were here last.” She gave Lacey a probing look. “Has it?”

  Lacey didn’t answer but moved forward ahead of the crowd of townspeople filtering onto the street from their various shops and stores along Main to watch in mute curiosity as the procession drew closer.

  Until the lead car became recognizable. A buzz went up around her, which Lacey barely heard for the warning clanging in her ears.

  It was a black Mercedes limousine. She had traveled in one like it countless times, for eight years had not ridden in any other make of vehicle, since Nicolai wouldn’t deign to own anything but that status symbol among automobiles.

  In the next instant a Vise-Grip took hold of her throat, so tightly no air could get through. She dragged at the collar of her T-shirt, trying to stay calm, trying to relax enough to get a breath. Just one breath.

  The limousine came to a stop twenty feet away. The driver, dressed in stately black livery, moved with precision as he opened the passenger door.

  Out stepped a tall, elegantly thin man in a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit which exactly matched his distinguished-looking salt-and-pepper hair. Still, he tugged at each sleeve with an air of command, adjusting the drape as his deep-set eyes scanned the crowd. His skin was tanned, his straight nose patrician, his full mouth aristocratic.

  He glanced slowly around the square, eyes appraising as a general evaluating a battlefield. Then they lit on her.

  He walked forward, his gait exuding confidence and authority. The smile he flashed was pure white and perfect. He looked every inch the charming prince. Yet what was a prince without a princess for him to make happy?

  Lacey kept her face completely blank, but inside she felt as if depth charges were sounding in her chest at a rate of a hundred a minute. Their message reverberated in her brain: Show no emotion, not the flicker of an eyelash, not the twitch of a lip. Don’t give him a single clue he can use against you.

  He stopped before her, and though his eyes seemed lit with delight, she knew from long, hard experience that behind them was a brain which never stopped scheming, never initiating a gesture that wasn’t calculated down to the merest of movements.

  “My dear Lacey, it’s so good to see you again,” Nicolai said warmly, ta
king her hands in his and holding her arms out as he gave her a head-to-foot appraisal. “And don’t you look as charmingly unaffected and unpretentious as the day I met you! This quaint little town obviously agrees with you.”

  His eyes were trained like a hawk’s on hers. In their depths was a coldness that went beyond dead.

  She had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep from jerking away in revulsion. Any reaction, positive or negative, would be used against her in some way.

  It was a wonder she escaped him once with her spirit intact.

  “Don’t I even warrant a hello?” he asked, gazing at her as if he had eyes only for her but as aware as she that they had an audience of nearly two hundred people. Plus the newspeople, whom out of the corner of her eye she could see scurrying to set up around the two of them so as to capture this tender—or hopefully, in their estimation, antagonistic—moment.

  She needed to keep in mind she could use the media against Nicolai as well as he could against her.

  “Hello...Nicolai,” Lacey said, and decided to go on the offensive. “What brings you to Abysmal? You were always quite clear during our marriage you’d never set foot in...now how did you put it? Oh, yes...‘that no doubt aptly named little burg you hail from.’”

  A nearly undetectable spark of anger leapt in the back of his eyes. “Actually, I am delighted to see how mistaken I was,” he answered with just the right degree of genuineness. “In fact, I’ve come to ensure this dear city’s proper place in history—by making your dreams come true, my dear.”

  The gall of the man! “The only way you could do that is to tell me you intend to turn around and take yourself and this circus you’ve brought with you back to wherever you came from and stay out of my life for good,” Lacey said bluntly, uncaring for the moment of how her reaction might look to people. She simply couldn’t stand by while he got away with his charade.

  “It grieves me to see how uncharitable you’ve become toward me!” Nicolai said, dramatically pressing his hand to his pristine shirtfront. “Perhaps once you see whom I’ve brought you, you’ll find some warmth in your heart for me.”

  With that, he beckoned toward the limo. The driver opened the door again, and from within the dark interior emerged a slim, elegant young woman dressed impeccably in a saffron-yellow business suit, her brunette hair pulled back in a sleek chignon. She, too, paused dramatically and from behind dark glasses surveyed the crowd gathered on the street as cameras clicked and videotape whirred. Then her eyes found Lacey, and she broke out in a girlish smile and waved her hand excitedly.

  Lacey gaped, transfixed. “J-Jenna? Is that you?”

  All pretense at sophistication fell away as the girl tore off her glasses and flung her arms wide. “It’s me, all right! Don’t I just look like I could meet the queen? And it’s all because of Nicky!”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SQUEALS OF DELIGHT CAME from the throng, and Lacey recognized two of Jenna’s friends, who ran to her and hugged her before exclaiming over her outfit.

  Lacey spun on Nicolai in a blaze. “You lowdown jerk! If you think you can use Jenna or anyone else to get to me, I swear I’ll make you wish you’d never heard the name Lacey McCoy!”

  “My dear Lacey, please!” Nicolai held up his hands. “I’ve done nothing of the kind. I merely contacted Jenna in Houston to ask her a few questions, and she told me how you’d talked to her of returning home. She’s wanted to, you know—she simply needed a guiding hand.” He gestured. “You see?”

  Lacey turned. Jenna’s father had stepped forward and stood half a dozen feet from his daughter. He hesitated, as did an abruptly sobered Jenna, before they came together, and he engulfed her in a bear hug which elicited a collective “awww” from the throng.

  At the sight, Lacey’s heart dropped to her knees. Oh, it wasn’t that she wasn’t glad for Jenna. She was thankful she’d returned to Abysmal, however it had come about. But finding the girl and bringing her home in a way which made Jenna’s own dream of being someone special come true...it was a master stroke by Nicolai.

  Then another thought hit her. If he’d found out from Jenna how Lacey had been in contact with her and why, then he surely knew by now about the girls’ center.

  She couldn’t stand the idea that he would have even the slightest knowledge of that most cherished of dreams—that was, except for one other dream she held close to her heart...

  Horrified, Lacey wondered if Jenna had revealed to Nicolai the real nature of her engagement to Will! She could only hope the girl had known to keep her counsel.

  Right now, however, Lacey needed to take back control of herself and this situation with Nicolai.

  Lifting the corners of her mouth in a reasonable approximation of a smile, she faced him. “Thank you, Nicolai, for providing that last little incentive needed to convince Jenna to come home and attend classes at my resource center in town. I’m sure she’s told you all about it. It’s my dearest hope that before they venture out into the big, wide and often brutal world, she and girls like her learn the skills needed to make the choices that are right for them and not have to depend upon others to take care of them. Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you!” Lacey affected surprise. “You’ll be gratified to know it’s because of your generous gesture toward my parents in building that grand mansion for them that we’ve had a place to set up the center. It’s worked out perfectly, in fact, now that we’ve been able to make the modifications needed.”

  She wouldn’t come right out and say it, but she hoped her implication that the reason she had been “scrabbling” for money, in Nicolai’s words, was not to keep her parents in their home but to raise funds for a good cause.

  Lacey waited, hoping she’d said enough to turn the crowd and media back to her side. Nicolai made noises of depreciation for his part in the project, but she could tell he hated having to give even the slightest ground to her. She didn’t know if inspiring ire in him worked for or against her.

  Or had she made any progress at all? For just then Jenna hurried over, her unfamiliarity walking in high heels making her look like she was on stilts. “Oh, but I won’t need to come to your center, Lacey,” she said.

  “No?” Lacey asked, confused. “But why not?”

  “Because Nicky’s sending me to college!”

  It was another shot to the heart of Lacey’s own aspirations for Jenna, but she kept her composure—with effort.

  “How wonderful for you, Jenna!” she enthused, giving the girl a quick hug.

  “You don’t keep secrets very well, do you, young lady?” Nicolai said with false modesty, touching a fingertip to Jenna’s nose. She grinned abashedly. Pain shot through Lacey’s jaw as she clamped down on her molars to hold her anger in check. She was deathly out of practice, however, at hiding her emotions behind a mask, she realized.

  “I’m afraid it’s true, though,” Nicolai continued. “I’ve enrolled her at one of the finest women’s colleges on the East Coast, all expenses paid I believe is how you Americans so succinctly put it.” He took Jenna’s hand and held it up, as if showing her off, Pygmalion-like, and Lacey could see that was exactly what he was doing. “She’ll be the first of America’s Cinderellas—of course, after you, dear Lacey. You’ll always be first in everyone’s heart—including my own.”

  He grasped Lacey’s hand with his free one and held it aloft as well, and the cameras went off like a string of firecrackers.

  Lacey thought she’d be sick. She wanted to give them a real photo op—jerk her hand away, grab Jenna’s, and run as far away from this man as she could take them both. It took everything in her to keep from doing so; her resistance was running low.

  But what on earth could he mean about Jenna becoming America’s Cinderella?

  “What are you talking about, Laslo?”

  The question hadn’t come from her. Lace
y glanced around to find Will standing ten yards away, stance wide, Stetson pulled low on his brow, hands looking relaxed and loose at his sides, as if he were ready for a shoot-out. Certainly, if looks could have killed, Nicolai would have been a dead man then and there.

  As it was, that flinty stare was enough to get Nicolai to drop both Lacey’s and Jenna’s hands.

  “Ah, and you must be the distinguished Will Proffitt,” Nicolai said, smooth as silk, but Lacey knew she was the only one there who recognized, when he ran a hand down his tie, the uncharacteristic nervousness in the gesture.

  “Distinguished or otherwise, I am,” Will said tersely. He walked, loose-hipped and unhurried, to Lacey’s side, where he put an arm around her and snugged her up against his side in a gesture of conspicuous proprietorship.

  She wished he hadn’t done that. Not that she wasn’t grateful, as always, for his support but she knew Nicolai, knew how to handle him, at least with enough skill to fend off his manipulative lunges for the throat if not strike a blow of her own.

  But she had grown out of practice in dealing with such manipulations. Until now, she hadn’t actually realized how bad it had been with Nicolai—or how much freer she felt with Will.

  That was the other reason Lacey wished him away from here. She wouldn’t be able to conceal her feelings for him, not entirely. And Nicolai would use them against her. When he did, she feared he’d succeed, too.

  For while Will Proffitt had become her greatest strength, at this moment he was also her greatest weakness.

  She could only try to divert Nicolai’s attention.

  “What did you mean about Jenna being America’s Cinderella?” she asked him, evincing no outward reaction to Will’s presence beside her, while pressing the back of her hand against the outside of his thigh in silent warning.

  Her diversion seemed to work. She’d given Nicolai the opening he’d been angling after since he stepped out of the limo, she realized, for she caught the gleam of triumph in his eyes as he said, “Only that Jenna has been ever so candid in explaining to me your concept for a girls’ resource center here in Abysmal.”