Christmas with My Cowboy

by Diana Palmer

  The cause for her loss of faith in Darcey was how totally her sister-in-law had trusted her aunt’s judgement. That had been so hard to understand. Gratitude, which Darcey undoubtedly felt, was not love. They all knew Darcey believed she owed her aunt big time, but she didn’t love her aunt in the customary way. Samantha feared Scott’s powerful love for Darcey could put him at risk again. Maybe their mother was right. There was no one else for Scott but Darcey.

  Right or wrong.

  The kind of beauty Darcey possessed had enormous emotional as well as sexual impact. Samantha prayed the results of their mother’s well-meant experiment would not have disastrous results.

  * * *

  They walked up the graceful sweep of the staircase together, she and Sophie. Samantha had excused herself saying she had things to do. Darcey walked slowly, allowing her hand to trail over the gleaming mahogany handrail. She remembered how many times Scott had carried her up to bed, both of them hungry for each other.

  Sophie turned towards the left wing, a short way along opening the door of the largest and easily the best of the guest rooms. Darcey knew it well.

  “I hope this will do, love.” Sophie sounded almost apologetic.

  “It’s fine. It’s lovely. You’re so kind to me, Sophie. I feel I don’t deserve it.”

  “We all deserve a second chance, Darcey,” Sophie pointed out. “You still love my son, don’t you?” She held the starry silver-grey eyes of the young woman she still considered her daughter-in-law.

  Darcey’s glossy head drooped. “Scott has told me he has moved on.”

  “Has he? Both of you are still looking backwards,” Sophie said. “There’s no point in that. Both of you must look forwards. That’s why I invited you here. How is your dear aunt, by the way?”

  Darcey had to laugh. “She’s spending Christmas in Thailand with a group of friends.”

  “So she’s made some, has she?” Sophie asked.

  “Not my concern, Sophie. I give my aunt a wide berth these days.”

  “I bet she can’t believe it, considering the power she had?”

  “I didn’t have all the answers then, Sophie. Scott was right. I was too young for my age. Too easily manipulated.”

  “Well, you’re not now,” Sophie said firmly and gave Darcey a quick kiss. “Would you like me to send up tea or coffee?”

  Darcey smiled. “No thanks, Sophie. Jet lag has pounced. I’ll have a nap. I’ve been on the go since early morning.”

  “Of course, dear.” Sophie walked to the door. “Come down whenever you’re ready. I’ve invited our foreman Linc Enright for dinner. You’ll like him.”

  “Enright?” Darcey frowned as she tried to slot in the name. She had a vague recollection of hearing it before. “Lincoln Enright around the same age as Scott? He’s said to be George Challenor’s illegitimate son?”

  “Not said to be. He is, but George is a grade-A old bastard, for want of a better name. He refuses to recognize Linc. Illegitimate and all that rubbish!”

  “How cruel.” She remembered Challenor as a ruthless old villain, a cattleman, extremely rich.

  “Indeed it is. Linc is a fine young man. These have been hard times for people on the land with the drought. Linc had been developing a small holding that went bust for all his efforts about ten months ago. Scott gave Linc a job. He’s been worth every penny. Scott didn’t tell Samantha until afterwards. Sam, being Sam, took it rather badly. In fact, she made a major production of it. She had met Linc several times previously without letting on. It may appear to you she doesn’t like him. She does.”

  Darcey was silent for a moment, letting that sink in. “Well, well, well!” she said.

  “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

  * * *

  As she came down the staircase she heard the sound of voices, the women’s voices overlapping the men’s. She was the last to arrive for a pre-dinner drink. To her amazement she had slept for a solid three hours, but she had awakened refreshed.

  Clarry had seen to it her luggage was taken upstairs, unpacked, various items folded into a tall chest of drawers, or in the case of her clothes, hung up. She had no difficulty selecting the dress she intended to wear. A short dress, silk, fluid in motion, emerald in colour. It seemed to change the colour of her eyes. It was simple yet sophisticated and it fitted her body well. Her long hair she wore in the customary updated knot. No jewellery around her throat, but she popped into her pierced ears, her mother’s pavé diamond pendant earrings. Earrings she wore frequently. She had left all the jewellery Scott had given her, including her magnificent engagement ring, behind.

  She hadn’t bothered to open the stack of unopened Christmas cards she had received just before she left. She would open them Christmas morning. Probably the once-a-year catch-ups. She had met up with or spoken on the phone to all the people closest to her.

  “Ah, here you are!” Scott was the first to speak. He sounded perfectly charming. “We feared you were going to sleep through.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, smiling at each face in turn. “I was a little tired, but I’m myself again.”

  “No apology needed,” said Scott expansively. “You were hours in the air. What are you going to have?”

  She didn’t feel happy about nominating champagne. This wasn’t a celebration. Instead she said, “A sauvignon blanc if you have it?”

  “Sauvignon blanc coming up. Tasmanian. This is Linc, by the way. Linc, meet Darcey.”

  Of course Linc knew she had been Scott’s wife. Nevertheless he came forward, a real smile on his handsome face. He lightly took Darcey’s extended hand with her fine-boned fingers. “Good to meet you, Darcey. I may call you Darcey?”

  “Please do. I’m happy to meet you too, Linc.” Linc didn’t look like a station hand. He looked like he belonged in this huge grand drawing room with its wall-to-wall treasures acquired down the generations. He was tall. Almost as tall as Scott, deeply tanned, good skin over good bones, wearing much the same sort of outfit as Scott. Dark dress trousers and smart informal open-necked dress shirt. Auburn-headed Scott with his blazing blue eyes wore a black shirt with pearly white buttons; Linc, sun-bleached blond wavy hair clinging to his head, hazel eyes. He mightn’t have had the kind of presence that made Scott the centre of attention even in crowded rooms, but he would fan a few fires in lots of girls’ hearts. Did that include Samantha who was sitting, drink in hand, the expression on her face intent, as though she had a few problems she had to sort out? Both Samantha and Sophie looked lovely in light and airy ankle-length dresses.

  * * *

  Darcey was amazed and relieved at how well dinner went. Scott, as heir to a cattle empire which entailed many dealings with government and fellow colleagues and cattlemen, both at home and abroad, had been raised to be a diplomat. He was the perfect host, like the Scott she had first met, but she knew better than anyone what went on behind his eyes.

  Conversation ranged over a number of non-controversial subjects. Darcey didn’t have to work at taking part. She had become something of a conversationalist herself. Linc opened his hazel eyes wide when Scott told him Darcey had recently won a prestigious architectural award for a country farm building.

  “That’s wonderful!” Linc’s face was alight with genuine interest. “You must be gifted.”

  “Inherited genes. My father is an internationally recognized architect. He works in London these days. I always wanted to be an architect from when I was a small girl.”

  Architect. Not a wife.

  She could see the thought in Scott’s blue eyes that moved constantly over her. Her reactions were disturbing, but she was prepared for that. She had to find a way to get through to him. With the passing of time, lost bits of memory were returning, the force for good that Scott had been in her life. She had stepped closer and closer to the realization she could have made a terrible mistake. Closer to declaiming her accusations.

  “Did you bring your riding gear, Darcey?” Samantha asked, s
ounding hopeful.

  “She brought everything she owns,” said Scott so laconically it raised a laugh.

  “Great!” Samantha brightened up. “The cousins will be arriving tomorrow. Not a one of them knows one end of the horse from the other. Apart from Duncan, that is.”

  “Exaggeration, darling,” said Sophie. “You remember Duncan, Darcey?”

  “Of course.” Duncan had been a guest at their wedding.

  “Duncan is captain of the opposing polo team,” Scott offered.

  “You play, Linc?” Darcey turned her head to ask.

  “Love it. I’m on Scott’s team, needless to say.”

  “Why needless?” Samantha interjected, suddenly looking like a girl on fire.

  “Because he’s way better than anyone else on Duncan’s team,” her brother responded.

  “Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” Samantha said, as though she wasn’t expecting Linc to shine.

  What was the problem? Darcey thought. She had caught Samantha staring at Linc when he wasn’t looking, then hurriedly looking away. “I’m looking forward to the match,” she said gently, to fill the awkward gap. “It seems so long since I attended one.”

  Part of the MacArthur portfolio was the ownership of one of the finest breeding establishments for polo ponies. She knew from experience polo had to be one of the most exciting and demanding sports in the world. It was hard to avoid dangerous collisions at top speed. She had worried a good deal when Scott played. Though he was one of the highest ranked players in the country, the game could be seriously dangerous even for him.

  “I don’t get out much,” she confessed.

  “That’s hard to believe,” said Sam in her straightforward fashion. “You must be overwhelmed by invitations to all kinds of functions.”

  “Not many tempt me, Sam. I work full days.”

  “You have to know when to stop, Darcey,” Samantha said seriously. “You must take a look at the Great Hall in the morning. Nothing has changed since you had it repainted. Mum and I did the decorating, but gosh, we missed”—she caught herself up before she added you—“decorating isn’t really our scene, is it, Mum?”

  “I’m sure Darcey will have plenty of ideas,” Scott broke in. “There’s all day tomorrow to make any changes.”

  * * *

  The entire station was abuzz, but Samantha found time to take Darcey out to the Great Hall where the Après Polo Ball was to be held Saturday night. Guests would stay well into Sunday, when they would begin their return home for Christmas Day, which fell on the Monday.

  “Say exactly what you think,” Sam invited as they walked into the vast space used for all sorts of meetings.

  Darcey lifted her head. “I mean, can I?”

  “Of course. You’re an artist, Darcey. An architect. Do you still paint?”

  “When I have time, which isn’t often. I’ll never be as good as my mother.”

  “You could be. Does dear Auntie still handle your mother’s work?”

  Darcey had to smile. “There aren’t any more paintings left except for those belonging to my father and me. We will never part with them.”

  “I bet Auntie has tried to persuade you,” Samantha suggested, sardonically.

  Darcey didn’t answer. Of course she had.

  “You’re not impressed?” Samantha asked, somewhat worriedly as Darcey walked farther into the hall, looking about her.

  “Sam, Sam, you’ve done extremely well.”

  “Any suggestions?”

  “Let me think about it.” She already had a few in mind. “What’s with you and Linc Enright?”

  “Don’t ask,” Samantha said drolly.

  “I am asking as someone who cares about you. Someone who has made a lot of mistakes.”

  Samantha turned to her, her blue gaze serious. “This is vital, Darcey. Why are you here? Do you still care about my brother? I need to know. I’m the sort of person who needs things out in the open.”

  “I know that, Sam,” Darcey said, tears in her throat. “I left the love of my life. He left me. I wouldn’t recommend that course of action to anyone. I work hard. I’m praised. I can’t connect to any other man. What I wanted from Scott was total commitment. Total fidelity. It may have been a moment of aberration with Rebecca, but I found to my grief the kind of love I craved was unattainable.”

  Samantha fought down her exasperation. She could see Darcey was utterly sincere. “So you still believe Scott betrayed you? How sad that is. How insane.”

  “Well, you are and always will be on Scott’s side. That’s part of being a loving sister.”

  “Let’s try again,” Samantha said patiently. “We MacArthurs don’t lie. Scott even as a boy was never known to be caught out in the tiniest fib. I think you should consider very seriously there may have been a conspiracy.”

  “You think I haven’t?” Darcey’s silver eyes sparkled. “Whatever faults my aunt has, she doesn’t lie either.”

  “But that little ratbag Rebecca was surely up to it?”

  “To what end?” Darcey asked, having pursued that very question endlessly. “I’ve never spoken to her from that terrible day to this.”

  Samantha shook her rich auburn head. “So where is she? You don’t know?”

  “I had heard she was travelling, maybe settled in Ireland. She had relatives of her mother’s there.”

  “So where did she get the money?” Samantha asked, refusing to let go now that she had the opportunity. “Did you give her some? You used to, didn’t you?”

  “Sam, I gave her nothing,” Darcey cried in despair. “I did tell her to disappear.”

  “Strange that she did. One needs money to disappear,” Samantha pointed out. “Our understanding was she used to borrow from you and perhaps others to survive. She was just an ordinary working girl living from week to week.”

  “Day to day was more like it. Obviously she borrowed from someone to get out of the country.”

  “Sure it wasn’t Auntie?” Samantha fixed Darcey with the piercing MacArthur regard.

  “For God’s sake, Sam. My aunt despised her.”

  Samantha gave a tight smile. “Your dear aunt despises everyone on the planet. But take note, she wouldn’t be above using that Becky. One or both are lying.”

  “No, no!” Darcey shook her head.

  “Didn’t you tell me once your dad thought your aunt Rachael was secretly very jealous of your mother?”

  “Well . . .” All kinds of emotions flitted across Darcey’s face. “My mother was so beautiful, so gifted, so loved. She had a husband, a child.”

  “In short, she was everything your aunt was not. Mum and I believe your aunt might have had an enormous crush on your father. He’s a very impressive man, and you said yourself that your aunt knew him first.”

  “Only Aunt Rachael is a man-hater, Sam,” Darcey pointed out, her jaw tight.

  “We all are, but we still love them.”

  Darcey walked on. “Don’t go ahead with this, Sam,” she begged. “You’re suggesting my aunt is a monster?”

  “The grim reaper.” Samantha only half joked.

  “She would never deliberately set out to break up my marriage. She loves me in her own way. I know she’s very hurt at the way our relationship has gone.”

  “Shoot the messenger?” Sam asked, with perfect accuracy.

  “It happens. She told me I lacked maturity.”

  “Is that what she said?” Samantha fumed.

  “It’s what Scott said as well,” Darcey reminded her. “And that’s not all.”

  Sam flushed. “Darcey, you broke his heart. It was like his whole world had come to an end. God, Darcey, he adored you, and you accused him of being unfaithful. It would make any innocent husband as mad as hell. I bet your aunt is pleased at the way things have turned out. She has you to herself again. She had to take a huge step back when you married Scott. She would have judged that as entirely unfitting to her exalted position in your life.”

  Darcey touch
ed her temples with her fingers. “Sam, Aunt Rachael can’t possibly be as black as you’re trying to paint her. Dad has never once said or implied Aunt Rachael ever was in love with him.”

  Samantha made a face. “Maybe he thought it best to keep it to himself. I bet your aunt hates Anne?”

  Darcey blushed. Only too true. “I don’t know that Aunt Rachael really likes anyone. There are people like that. You’ve asked your questions. I repeat mine. Why are you hostile to Linc? He’s a very attractive man. Is it the illegitimate thing?”

  “Good grief, no,” Samantha replied in an instant. “I couldn’t care less about such things. The thing is, Linc hurt a friend of mine rather badly. He led her on and then dumped her. She was a real mess.”

  Darcey bristled. She had liked Linc instinctively. “So who’s the friend? Do I know her?”

  “Julie Sanderson.” Samantha supplied a remembered name. “She’ll be here for the polo match and the ball. She’ll be staying in the house.”

  “Well isn’t that the strangest thing!” Darcey exclaimed. “You believe her?”

  Samantha’s blue eyes glowed hotly. “How can I not? I’ve known Julie all my life. We were at boarding school together.”

  “I recall that. But what if she’s trying to persuade you of something against him because she can see—as I can—Linc is deeply attracted to you?”

  Samantha straightened her back. “Hang on!”

  “Think about it,” Darcey urged. “I remember Julie. She once took it upon herself to inform me Ashlee was just waiting for the moment when Scott would ask her to marry him.”

  “What?” Samantha couldn’t hide her amazement.

  Darcey gestured to the high ceiling. “I think we can make this more Christmassy, don’t you? For that matter we can do some more decorating in the entrance hall and up the staircase?”

  “Is that what Julie really said?” Samantha asked, still caught up in Darcey’s allegation.