It was Desiree Parrish who filled his thoughts. He remembered how tiny, almost delicate, she had seemed next to his great size, how the snowflakes had gathered on her dark hair and eyelashes. Those memories were overshadowed by the look of fear in her huge brown eyes when she had revealed her scar to him. And by the way she had braced herself for his revulsion.
It was true the scar was ugly, but Carter had shifted his gaze to her eyes, which had called out to him. He had seen a wounded spirit that was the equal of his own. It had taken a great deal of effort to resist reaching out to fold her protectively in his arms. Fortunately, she had run before he could do something so foolishly impulsive.
Carter didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, when he heard Madelyn and Belinda Prescott and Faron Whitelaw returning. He felt his gut tighten, reminding him how much their answer mattered to him. He wanted this place; he needed this place, if he was ever to forget the past and go on with his life.
Madelyn entered the room scolding. “What happened to you, young man? There were several more people I wanted you to meet, although I suppose we can have a party here and—”
He had risen the instant she came into the room and was already there to help her out of her coat. “I’m not much interested in parties, Maddy.”
“You should be,” she countered. “Why, a handsome young man like you ought to be settled down now, with babies and—”
“I just want an answer from Belinda and Faron, one way or the other,” he said sharply, cutting her off again. He laid her coat across the sofa, which gave him a chance to focus his attention anywhere except on Belinda and Faron. He was afraid he might see their answer to his offer on their faces. He was afraid that answer would be no.
At last, he forced himself to look at them. They were staring at each other, and he could feel the tension between them. His heart began to pound, sending blood rushing to his head, making him feel dizzy. He reached for his whiskey and swallowed a restoring gulp. He met his half brother’s eyes and said, “Well, what have you decided?”
“Give us another few minutes,” Faron said. “Belinda and I have some things we need to discuss before we can give you an answer.” Faron quickly ushered Belinda out of the room and into the ranch office across the hall.
Carter crossed to the bar so he would have his back to his grandmother. He didn’t want her to see the frustration—and fear—he felt. He poured a glass of port and turned to hand it to Madelyn. His casual calm was hard-won. The hell of it was, he didn’t think he was fooling Madelyn for a minute.
His grandmother settled herself on the sofa. Instead of launching into a thousand questions, she sipped her port and stared into the fire.
He was too nervous to sit and too proud to let Madelyn see him pacing anxiously. He hooked an arm over the mantel and focused on the map of King’s Castle that hung above it. The boundaries had changed over the hundred-odd years the land had been owned by Prescotts, but even now it was an impressive spread. He froze when he heard the office door open.
“Maddy, can you come in here for a minute?” Faron called.
“Excuse me, Carter,” the old woman said. “I hate to leave you alone. I’m sure I won’t be gone long.”
He didn’t look at her, afraid that his feelings were naked on his face. “Don’t worry, Maddy. I’m used to being alone.”
He could have bitten his tongue after he’d said the words, knowing how much he had revealed in that simple sentence. He felt more than saw, her hesitation. But he heard her set her glass down on the end table and leave the room.
He shook his head in disgust. How had he let possessing The Castle matter so much to him? He was only setting himself up for disappointment. He should have come sooner, when Wayne Prescott was still alive, and demanded his heritage. But he hadn’t needed Wayne’s land then. He hadn’t yet experienced the tragedy that had left him rootless and alone.
“Carter?”
He forced all emotion from his face as he turned to face Faron, who was flanked by the two women. He knew the answer before Faron spoke.
“We’ve decided not to sell.”
CHAPTER TWO
DESIREE CONCENTRATED ON the road, which was slick with a layer of ice and difficult to see through the blowing snow. She had been among the last to leave the church, since she had helped with the cleanup. The storm had worsened in the past hour, and Desiree wished she had asked someone to follow her, at least until she got to the turnoff for the ranch. She didn’t want to end up stuck on the road somewhere overnight, although if she ended up frozen to death that would solve the worry of finding a husband.
Beside her, Nicole chattered on happily about the Christmas pageant. Desiree responded to her daughter, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She was mentally kicking herself for being so foolish as to confront a perfect stranger with a proposal of marriage.
“Did you see me, Mommy? Was I a good angel?”
“You were wonderful, sweetheart. A perfect angel.”
Desiree worried her lower lip with her teeth. Why hadn’t she stood firm until she had an answer from Carter Prescott? Because she was afraid, that’s why! But although the ragtag cowboy’s eyes had been cold, they hadn’t been unkind. And while he had towered over her, she hadn’t felt threatened. It had been the fear of rejection, not the fear of physical harm, that had sent her fleeing into the night.
“Did you see me fly, Mommy?”
Desiree smiled at the image of her daughter flapping her angel’s wings. “I certainly did.” She had watched the finish of the Christmas pageant from the shadows along the side aisle of the church, her chest aching with love—and fear. She must find a husband before the new year. Her safety, and Nicole’s, depended on having a man’s presence in the house. If only she had been less fainthearted about confronting Carter Prescott!
“Look at me, Mommy. Look! I can fly even without my wings!”
“Nicole! Sit down, and put your seat belt back on this instant!”
Nicole quickly dropped down on the seat and began hunting for the end of the seat belt in the darkened cab.
Desiree had taken her eyes off the road only for a second, but that was enough. She caught a patch of ice and felt the pickup begin to slide. She turned the wheel into the skid and resisted the urge to brake, knowing that would only make things worse. But she could already see the truck wasn’t going to recover in time to stay on the road.
Nicole gave a cry of alarm as the pickup began to tilt. “Mommy! We’re falling!”
“It’s all right, Nicole. Sit still. Everything will be fine.” Desiree’s heart pounded as the pickup slid sideways off the road into a shallow gully.
The truck thumped to a stop at a sharp angle with the right wheels lodged in snow two feet deeper than the left ones. It took a second for Desiree to realize they really were all right. Nicole whimpered in fright.
Desiree reached over and grabbed Nicole and pulled her daughter into her lap, hugging her tight. “It’s all right, sweetheart. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
“We’re going to fall, Mommy.”
“No, we’re not. The truck is stopped now. It’s wedged in the snow. It won’t tip any more.” But she wasn’t going to be able to drive out of this gulley. Which meant that unless she wanted to spend the night in the truck, she was going to have to walk back the two miles or so to the church and call for help.
“You’ll have to wait here for me, Nicole, while I—”
“No, Mommy! Don’t leave me! I’m scared!”
Despite her daughter’s cries, Desiree shifted her onto the seat. “I won’t be gone long.”
“Don’t leave! Please, Mommy.” Nicole clambered back into Desiree’s lap and twined her arms around her mother’s neck.
Desiree hugged her daughter, fighting the tears that stung her nose and welled in her eyes.
She had been on her own for six years. She had gone through her pregnancy alone and had raised Nicole without help from anyone. Forced to cope with whatev
er life had thrown at her, somehow she had survived. She and Nicole were a family. Sliding off the road wasn’t nearly the disaster that loomed on the horizon. Soon their very lives would be in danger.
So what if she was stuck miles from home in the middle of a snowstorm with her daughter clinging to her neck like a limpet? They, and the truck, had endured without a scratch. There was no reason to cry. But her throat had swollen so thick it hurt to swallow, and she could feel the heat of a tear on her cold cheek.
It wasn’t the accident that was causing her distress, she conceded; it was the knowledge that she had so little control over her life.
Desiree took a deep breath and let it out. She had managed so far to keep things together. She just had to take one step at a time. She retrieved the blanket she kept in the well behind the seat and wrapped Nicole snugly in it.
“Mommy has to call a tow truck to haul us out of here,” she explained to Nicole. “The closest phone is at the church. You need to wait right here for me until I get back. Don’t leave the truck. If you wander off, you could get lost in all this snow. Okay, sweetheart?”
It was a sign of how much more quickly the child of a single parent had to grow up that Nicole sniffed back her tears and nodded reluctant agreement to her mother’s order. There was a risk leaving Nicole alone, but there was even greater risk in taking her out walking in the bitter cold.
“I won’t be gone long,” Desiree promised as she closed the truck door behind her. Desiree wished she had a warmer coat to keep out the bitter wind, but at least she had warm boots. She would be cold when she arrived at the church, but anyone who lived in Wyoming was inured to the harsh weather.
To Desiree’s amazement, she had been walking no more than two minutes, when she saw headlights through the snow. She was afraid she would be lost in the dark at the side of the road, so she stepped out onto the pavement and waved her arms. She knew the moment when the driver spotted her, because the pickup did a little slide to the side as it slowed.
As soon as the truck stopped, she raced to the driver’s window. The door had already opened, and a tall man was stepping out.
“I need help! I—”
“What the hell are you doing out here walking on a night like this? Where’s your car?”
Desiree felt her heart thump when she realized she was staring into the furious eyes of Carter Prescott. “My truck slid into a ditch. I was going back to the church to call for a tow. Can you give me a ride?”
“Get in,” he said curtly.
Desiree raced around to the other side of the pickup before Carter could reach out to touch her.
As he pulled his door closed he said, “It’s doubtful you’ll get a tow truck to come out in this storm. I’ll give you a ride home.”
Desiree debated the wisdom of arguing with him. But she would rather have Nicole safe and warm at home than have to wait with her daughter in the cold until a tow truck arrived. “All right. But I left something in my truck that I need to pick up. It’s only a little way ahead.”
When Carter pulled up behind her truck he said, “Do you need any help?”
“I can handle it.” Desiree was struggling with the door on Nicole’s side of the truck, when it was pulled open from behind her. She whirled in fright—to find Carter standing right behind her.
“I figured you could use some help, after all.”
Desiree took a deep breath. This man wasn’t going to harm her. She had to stop acting so jumpy around him. “Thank you,” she said.
The instant the truck door opened, Nicole came flying out. Desiree barely managed to catch her before she fell. In fact, she would have fallen if Carter hadn’t put his arms around Desiree and supported both her and the child.
“This is the something you needed to pick up?” he asked.
Desiree heard the displeasure underlying his amazement and responded defensively, “This is my daughter, Nicole.”
“You didn’t say anything about a kid earlier this evening.”
“It wasn’t necessary that you know about her until we had reached some agreement.”
“I don’t think—”
Desiree cut him off. “I would rather not discuss this further until we’re alone.” Which was tantamount to a suggestion that they ought to have further discussion on the matter in private, Desiree realized too late.
“All right,” he said.
“You can let go now. I’ve got her.”
He was slow to remove his support, and Desiree was aware suddenly of how secure she had felt with his arms around her. And of being very much alone without them.
She carried Nicole the short distance to his truck. He held the passenger door open, but she found it awkward to step up into the truck with Nicole in her arms.
“Give her to me.” Carter’s tone of voice made it plain he would rather not have handled the child. Before either Desiree or Nicole could protest, he had the girl in his arms.
Desiree had barely settled herself in the truck when Carter dropped Nicole on her lap, shoved her thin wool coat inside and slammed the truck door closed.
“The turnoff for the Rimrock is about five miles ahead on the right,” Desiree instructed.
“I know.”
“How—”
“I drove by there on the way to my grandmother’s. I haven’t forgotten visiting your place when I was ten.”
She watched him rub his thigh and wondered about the bone he had broken so many years ago. “Does it still bother you?”
“Sometimes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. It was my own fault.”
He looked sinister in the green light reflected off the dash, not at all like the savior she had sought out in the parking lot of the church.
“What’s your name?” Nicole asked. “Do you know my mommy? I was an angel tonight. Do you want to see me fly?”
Carter’s lips flattened in annoyance.
In the uncomfortable silence that followed her daughter’s questions, a frown grew in the space between Desiree’s brows. Carter’s refusal to answer Nicole was rude—or at least, inconsiderate. Did Carter simply not like children? Or was it just Nicole’s behavior he didn’t approve of?
Carter’s lack of response did nothing to curb Nicole’s curiosity.
“Are you coming to our house?”
“Yes,” Carter replied sharply.
Desiree realized he had probably been curt in hopes of shutting her daughter up. But Nicole wasn’t deterred by Carter’s antagonism. The little girl had learned through dealing with a mother who was putty in her hands that persistence often won her what she wanted.
“Do you want to see my room?”
Carter sighed.
Desiree could see that he wanted to say no. He sought out her eyes, his lips pursed in displeasure. She decided to rescue him from her daughter’s clutches.
“It’s nearly bedtime, sweetheart. You’ll have to wait to show Mr. Prescott your room until some other time.” It was all she could do to keep her own displeasure at the cowboy’s surliness out of her voice.
“Are you going to be my daddy?”
“Nicole!”
Desiree was mortified at the question because she had, in fact, proposed to the man sitting across from her, and because she hadn’t realized Nicole was even aware that she was seeking a husband. The little girl’s next words made it clear that she had thought of the idea all on her own.
“My friend Shirley has a daddy, but I don’t. I asked Santa Claus for a daddy, but so far I haven’t got one. Are you the daddy I asked for?”
“No,” he said in a strangled voice.
“Oh. Well, it’s not Christmas yet,” Nicole said cheerfully. “Maybe Santa Claus will bring me a daddy.”
Desiree was chagrined at her daughter’s outspokenness. However, if she had anything to say about it, Nicole would get her wish, although Carter’s attitude toward Nicole was a matter that needed further exploration before their discussion of marriage
continued.
Carter was pleased when they reached the Rimrock ranch house to discover it was just as he remembered it. The two-story frame structure had been built to last by people who cared. Someone had planted pines and spruce around the house, and with the drifting snow it was a scene worthy of a picture postcard.
“Follow the road around to the back,” Desiree said.
Carter didn’t volunteer to carry Nicole from the truck, and Desiree didn’t ask. But halfway to the door, and though it made his stomach clench, he took the little girl in his arms to relieve Desiree of a burden that was obviously too heavy for her.
To his surprise, when he reached for the doorknob, he discovered that Desiree had locked the back door. Most ranches, even in this day and age, were left open, a vestige of range hospitality from a time when homesteads had been few and far between.
“Afraid of the bogeyman?” he asked with a wry grin.
Desiree didn’t smile back. “I have to think of Nicole’s safety.” She stepped inside, turned on the light and held the door for him.
Carter immediately set the little girl down. His heart thudded painfully as he watched her race gleefully across the room, headed for the hall. She turned on the light and kept going. Carter could hear her running up the stairs.
“Make yourself comfortable while I put her to bed,” Desiree said, following Nicole down the hallway that led to the rest of the house. “We’ll talk as soon as I get her down. There’s coffee on the stove or brandy in the living room. Help yourself.” Then she was gone.
Carter hadn’t been in the house before, but he knew the moment he crossed the threshold that this was a home. A band tightened around his chest, making it hard to breathe. This was what he had been seeking. There was warmth and comfort here, not only for the body, but also for the soul.
The kitchen was cluttered, but clean. There were crayon drawings taped to the refrigerator, and a crock full of wooden spoons and a stack of cookbooks sat on an oak chest in the corner. The red-and-white linoleum floor was worn down to black in front of the sink, and the wooden round-leg table and ladderback chairs were scarred antiques. An old-fashioned tin coffeepot sat on the stove. Carter decided he would rather have the brandy.
Carter Page 2