by Lisa Plumley
“I don’t have to listen to this!” Parish cast a disgusted glance at Owen. “Our business is done. I’m—”
Listening, Owen was about to demand. Then apologizing.
But Daisy beat him to it. “The truth is,” she continued doggedly, “I’m very good at cooking and baking and homemaking, Conrad. I’m good at speaking about all those things, too! I’m excellent at them. And it’s about time you told me so.”
Appearing momentarily speechless, Parish frowned.
Daisy, for her part, merely waited, appearing surprisingly formidable. Owen wasn’t sure where she’d found the courage to confront Parish this way, but he was glad she had. For her sake.
“Very well.” Parish spoke quickly. Peevishly. “You’re eminently qualified, Daisy. You truly are. Barker & Bowles know it, and so do I.” He inhaled, looking pained. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Daisy’s hands shook. “That’s all I wanted.”
Parish darted her a skeptical glance. “That’s all?”
“Well, that…” Daisy skewered him with a fierce look. “And all the money you skimmed from my speaking-engagement fees, too. You owe me, Conrad. You took much more than your fair share.”
Stunned, Owen stared at her. He’d suspected something was amiss when Parish had quit discussing his current tour duties so abruptly. But it hadn’t occurred to him that Parish might have stolen outright from Daisy. The man just got worse and worse.
She was well shot of him, Owen thought. From here on, Daisy had Owen to take care of her. And her brother, Thomas. And she had Élodie—along with most of the townspeople—to love her, too.
She didn’t need Conrad Parish to approve of her or help her. Evidently, Daisy had decided the same thing for herself.
Parish swallowed hard. “The rest of my money is in my room at the Lorndorff Hotel. I didn’t expect to need more than—”
His gaze shifted tellingly to the cash on the barrel.
At the sight of it, Owen wanted to cringe. It was horrible to see it there—blatant proof of Parish’s disregard for Daisy.
“—that to see me through the afternoon.” Uncomfortably, Parish tugged his shirt collar again. “I’ll give you the money—”
“Along with a full accounting,” Daisy specified, seeming to draw strength from her success so far. “I know you kept a ledger. It should be easy enough for you to square up with me.”
“‘Square up’?” Parish snickered. “You sound like a yokel.”
Owen growled, frankly at the end of his patience with the man. His utterance, however primitive, got Parish’s attention.
“You’re lucky you have Mr. Cooper, here,” he told Daisy in a slightly more amiable tone. “He might be a bit…uncivilized, but he did get me here. That was more than you could have done.”
At that, Daisy’s composure wobbled, just a bit.
“I knew you were expecting, of course.” Parish gave an airy wave. “Any man would have. You were thick in the middle. You were vomiting constantly.” He ticked off those two items on his fingers, then reached the third. “You were annoyingly weepy—”
Owen stepped forward, making another threatening sound.
“No.” Daisy held up her palm. “I want to hear this.”
“All the signs were there,” Parish said blithely. “So when you jumped off my train to come here—” his scornful gaze indicted the stable, everyone in it and the neighborly town beyond “—I was glad to be rid of you. And now I’m glad to be leaving you.”
Appearing buffeted by his words, Daisy teetered. Visibly upset, she patted her skirts in place. Then she lifted her head.
Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. But when she spoke again, her voice was steady. “Yes. And I’m glad you’ll be gone.”
For a moment they only stared at one another—Parish with unconcealed malevolence; Daisy with sorrowful resignation.
She broke the silence first. “I’ll visit your hotel later to collect my fees. Thank you for your apology. You can leave.”
Parish smirked, obviously having no intention of complying with Daisy’s request. Owen felt increasingly fed up.
“Goodbye, Conrad,” Daisy said more firmly, holding her head high. “Please leave me alone and don’t ever come back.”
Parish opened his mouth. He stared at Daisy. He frowned. Then, as though suddenly seeing the woman he’d abandoned and betrayed through new—and ashamed—eyes, Parish hung his head.
That was purely fitting, Owen knew. He’d be ashamed too, if Daisy were as disappointed and hurt by something he’d done.
Seeming downright cowed by Daisy’s certainty, Parish nodded. Perhaps he’d finally glimpsed the truth, Owen thought—that Daisy was a better person than he could ever hope to be.
“I won’t bother you again,” Conrad said. “Good luck, Daisy.” Then he scurried away, suit coat flapping, leaving the stable with as much dignity as, Owen surmised, he did anything.
Which was no dignity at all. Heartily glad to see the knuck pull foot, Owen released a pent-up breath. He turned to Daisy, feeling the tension whoosh from his shoulders instantly. For her sake—for all she’d just accomplished—Owen felt elated.
“First,” he said, “you were remarkable! I’m truly impressed by the way you stood up to Parish.” Fondly, Owen grinned. “I don’t think he knew what hit him! He flopped like a carp, then folded like a gambler with a bad hand. Good for you, Daisy.”
Oddly enough, she didn’t look at Owen. She only gazed out the open stable doors, watching Conrad Parish disappear.
Slowly, Daisy turned. “‘First,’ you said? What’s second?”
Her tone sounded…peculiarly distant. Wondering at that, Owen frowned. But he wanted this ugly endeavor finished, once and for all. So he scooped up the wad of bills from the barrel. He reached for Daisy’s hand. Tenderly, he squeezed her fingers.
“This is second. And final. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But since it has…” Owen pressed the bundle of money into Daisy’s palm. Solemnly he closed her fingers around the whole sum. “For you,” he said. “Now you’ll never have to worry again. You’ll never have to struggle. You’ll never have to depend on a lying, cowardly bastard—on a scoundrel of a man like—”
“Like you?” Daisy asked.
Stricken, Owen stared at her. “No. Like Parish.”
Maybe she was joking, he thought. Maybe she was over-wrought, strained and distressed by the events of the day.
Daisy frowned down at the cash. To his bafflement, she did not accept it. “But aren’t you forgetting something?”
“I don’t think so.” Why didn’t she take the money?
Daisy pushed the whole bundle back at him. With conviction, she said, “You’re forgetting to take your share. Take it.”
“My share?” Owen frowned, not sure what she meant.
“In fact,” she said, sounding increasingly upset as she pushed away the money, “take it all! I don’t want any of it.”
“But I got this money for you,” Owen said, still mystified by her reaction. This was the most valuable assurance he could have offered her. Didn’t she understand that? He hadn’t wanted to resort to bargaining with Parish. He still felt sullied by the effort. “I got this money for you and the baby.”
“Truly?” Daisy jerked up her chin again. “And if I hadn’t come downstairs to the stable at just that moment? If I hadn’t overheard you making your awful deal? What then, Owen? Hmm?” With more tears in her eyes, she jabbed his chest. “Would you have upped the ante once more? Would you have made an even bigger bet against me, like a true gambler? Or would you have sold me out for even less scratch, just to feel a part of the game again?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I have to give you credit,” Daisy went on, her voice cracking. “You’re almost charming enough to sell me on your innocence. If I didn’t know you, I might actually believe you.”
That was low. And markedly confusing. Giving up for now on peaceably giving
her the money, Owen pocketed the lot of it for safekeeping. Gutted by the accusing look on Daisy’s face, he reached for her. “What do you think was happening here?”
“Well. I’d say that’s fairly obvious, isn’t it?”
“No.” Owen reached for her. She jerked away. “Tell me.”
“You met me—alone and vulnerable,” Daisy said, her voice quivering with emotion. “You knew yourself—a born gambler and thief, eager for some fast takings. So you wired Conrad—”
“To come fetch you! To be with you!” Stonily, Owen stared at her, hardly able to believe Daisy would throw his past in his face this way. “I thought that you loved him,” he choked out, “so—”
“So you took me to your bed? How did that fit into your grand scheme, Owen?” Daisy’s plaintive gaze collided with his…then swiveled away sadly. “I never loved Conrad. I loved—”
You, he longed to hear. I loved you.
But instead, Daisy went silent. Caught beneath all the accusations she’d made, Owen stared at her. Helplessly, he still wished she would love him. Truthfully, he knew she did not.
“You wired Conrad,” Daisy finished in a frightfully bleak voice, “and you struck a deal with him. This deal. You traded me—and my baby!—for a bundle of money. And now, since I stumbled upon your wretched agreement, you feel compelled to share some of that money with me. Which I suppose must count as honor among thieves, or some such, but I’ll confess… I fail to see it.”
She failed to see him, too. Deeply hurt by Daisy’s interpretation of today’s events, Owen fisted his hands. The money in his pocket felt like a dead weight. Foolishly, he’d thought Daisy would understand him. He’d thought she would be pleased. He’d tried to give her security—tangible protection for an uncertain world. He’d tried to make sure that Daisy—like Élodie, someday—would never have to rely on an undependable man for her safety…the way Renée had, to her ultimate detriment.
But Daisy didn’t see that. All she saw was him.
A born gambler, in her words. A thief.
Daisy didn’t believe he’d changed. And even though Owen could not, in that moment, imagine why she’d ever pretended she had, all he could do was look at her. “You truly believe that?”
Daisy gazed at him sadly. “Give me a reason not to.”
“How can I?” Owen spread his hands. “You’ve already made up your mind. You’ve already decided the worst of me.” He cracked a humorless smile. “You were prepared to make excuse after excuse for that scum, Conrad Parish. And yet, when it comes to me—”
“I never loved him! You’re the one I was fool enough to—”
Love, Owen prayed again, desperately wishing she’d say the words. Maybe they could blot out everything else she’d said.
“Trust,” Daisy finished brokenly. “I trusted you, Owen!”
Owen stood solitarily, soaking up her pain. “I could say the same thing,” he said in a low voice. “I trusted you, too.”
They stood there, trapped in their mutual disillusionment, both of them unhappy…but not yet willing to walk away.
Staring at Daisy, remembering everything he’d shared with her over the past joy-filled days, Owen frowned. All this time, he’d believed she’d had feelings for Conrad Parish. He’d believed he oughtn’t make promises to her—promises that might unfairly take her away from her baby’s father. And now, just when Owen had realized Daisy did not have feelings for Parish…
He likewise realized she did not have feelings for him.
Just the way Daisy could get along without her former manager in her life, it appeared she could manage without Owen, too. And he wanted her to do that. He wanted her to be safe and happy and well. But that didn’t make it any easier to see her now, gazing at him through tear-filled eyes, looking at him, it occurred to Owen, almost the way she’d looked at Conrad Parish, in the end. At the memory of that, Owen felt a similar shame.
Daisy was good and kind and loving. And he’d hurt her.
She’d delivered a few raw blows of her own—that was true. Owen’s heart still ached with the accusations she’d made. But he was a strong, tough man. He could withstand the pain. Daisy…
Daisy, he feared, could not.
“Just tell me!” she said, breaking into his thoughts. “Just tell me, right now. Tell me you love me…” Her voice broke on the words. She tried again. “Tell me you love me, Owen, and I’ll forgive you. Tell me you love me, and I’ll believe you. Just—”
“I can’t.” Anguished, he stared at her. That she would even offer to forgive him—while she still believed him so grievously wrong—proved he should not accept her offer. After everything, Daisy deserved better than that, better than him. “I can’t,” Owen repeated. “I’m sorry.”
Her grief-stricken expression met his. Owen knew, in that moment, that the pain in her eyes would haunt him forever.
But then she rallied.
“You don’t understand,” Daisy scrambled to say, hopeful to the end. “If you can say that you love me, right now… It’s easy, Owen. Please. Please, just say you love me, so I can—”
But Owen could not. Now more than ever, he could not. And no measure of desperately voiced pleas would ever change that.
Daisy had only just freed herself from a reprehensible man who’d used and abused her. She’d only just learned to stand up, to be brave, to demand to be treated fairly. Owen couldn’t take that from her. Not now. Not ever. Besides, was he really any better a man than Conrad Parish? Grimly, he shook his head.
“I can’t tell you that.” Owen gazed at her stonily, willing himself not to feel…anything. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“‘Sorry’?” Daisy gaped at him. “You’re ‘sorry’ you don’t love me? Or ‘sorry’ you don’t even care enough to lie about it?”
Owen tried to respond. But Daisy overrode him.
“You, a renowned rascal and a charmer,” she blurted, “who can talk the blue from the sky… You can’t give me a simple, heartfelt lie? Not even when I’m begging for it?” She shook her head. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re not a scoundrel anymore. Because I don’t feel at all seduced by this experience. I don’t feel… Well, I don’t feel anything except alone. And unwanted.”
“Daisy.” Swearing under his breath, Owen stepped nearer. She was anything but alone—anything but unwanted. Filled with remorse, he caught hold of her shoulders, wanting to pull her close—to comfort her. At the last moment, he stopped himself. Indulging his own feelings would only hurt her—would only prove his own damnable selfishness. “Please don’t do this. Don’t—”
“Don’t beg you to love me?” Daisy closed her eyes, tears flowing freely down her face. “Fine. I won’t. I’m sorry, too.”
Gently, Owen stroked his thumbs over her shoulders. At least she’d let him touch her this time, he thought. He felt absurdly heartened by that fact. Maybe that meant Daisy was softening toward him. Maybe that meant she would forgive him, they would talk more, and then things would go back to the way they’d been, with her and him and Élodie, together.
“Sorry for what?” Owen urged her to say. “Tell me. Just—”
“I’m sorry,” Daisy said, “that I’ve stayed here so long already.” With a mighty sniffle, Daisy lifted her head. She inhaled deeply. She squared her shoulders. “It was a mistake, plain and simple. But I’ve learned a few things lately. Some of them I’ve learned from you. And one of those things—”
She broke off, her chin wobbling with a pent-up sob. She inhaled again, her breath shuddering through her small frame.
“One of those things,” Daisy repeated, “is that I’m strong enough to stand up for myself. I’m strong enough to face what needs to be faced—to go on doing what needs to be done.”
Thinking that she was referring to her situation with her baby—to the way she’d denied her pregnancy at first—Owen nodded.
“I’m strong enough to say goodbye, Owen,” Daisy said. She sounded almost startled by the realization. Startled
and sad. “So that’s what I’m doing. I’m saying goodbye. To you.”
Again, Daisy hesitated. She looked up into his face, almost as though searching for something—almost as though waiting for him to…to do what? To stop her? Owen could not. Leaving him was likely the best thing for her. Daisy was vulnerable and sweet. Her very vulnerability and sweetness had drawn him to her, in fact. But they’d also made it doubly likely that he would let her down in the end…that he’d hurt her, like this.
Eventually, after several drawn-out moments, Daisy seemed to realize Owen was not going to stop her. With a gentle and regret-filled gesture, she raised her hand.
She touched his face, then gazed directly at him.
The only man I’m thinking about, he suddenly remembered her saying to him, is the man I’m looking at right now…with both eyes open. Reminded of that, Owen bit back a disgraceful sob.
He wanted to be that man for her. He was doomed not to be.
“Goodbye, Owen. Tell Élodie—” Daisy broke off again. This time, she did cry in earnest. Struggling mightily, she managed to finish. “Tell Élodie I’m sorry. Tell her I’ll never forget her.”
Setting his jaw, Owen nodded. “I will,” he rasped.
Feeling torn to pieces, he watched as Daisy lowered her hand again. As she stepped away from him. As she smiled, weakly.
“I’ll never forget you, either,” she told him.
And then Daisy was gone…lost to him forever, just the way Owen should have known she would be all along.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
With an impossible task ahead of him, Owen climbed the stairs from the stable to his living quarters. After Daisy had gone, it had taken him a while to stir himself. For a long time, he’d stood silently in the shadows of his stable. He’d held himself still and he’d kept himself planted, just in case Daisy had changed her mind and come back.