The Prince's Cowboy Double

by Victoria Chancellor

  “The sooner the better.”

  “Don’t start in on him. I mean it, Hank. I didn’t call you to hear the outraged older-brother routine, although you’re darned good at it.”

  “I’m serious, Kerry. Do you have any idea how long we’ve been looking for the two of you? That damned prince is supposed to be touring Texas, kissing babies and eating with the governor!”

  “First of all, his name is Alexi. Except sometimes I call him Mack. And he’s not a damned prince, he’s a man who needed a break.”

  “Without thinking of what he did to the rest of the world. Wendy has just about gone nuts trying to find him.”

  “Wendy?”

  “Er, Lady Gwendolyn Reed. Ask your boyfriend. He knows very well who she is.”

  “Yes, he told me she’d handle everything.”

  “With no help from him!” Wendy placed a hand on his arm and shook her sleep-tousled hair. Hank swiveled his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “Look, Kerry, we have a problem. There are tabloid reporters lurking around town. They’ve gotten the idea that the prince is having a torrid affair with a local girl—you.”

  “Gee, ya think?” she replied in that saucy tone that had always made him want to spank her bottom—in a very big-brotherly fashion. “Why do you imagine we’ve been hiding out in the apartment over the café all night?”

  “All night?” Hank frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that. “I didn’t even know there was an apartment up there.”

  “Yes, and it’s been empty for a long time. The point is, those reporters are staying at that little bed-and-breakfast that just opened on the other side of the square above Robin Parker’s antique shop. For all we know, they could be watching the café as we speak.”

  “Well, don’t let them see you together!”

  “I hadn’t planned on it, you big goober. I don’t think they know my car, so I’m hopeful we can make it out the back door, take the alley to the one-way street on the other side of the square, and circle around. The question is, where can we go?”

  “They’ll be watching your mother’s house,” Hank said thoughtfully. “We need a neutral place, but I don’t want to risk driving all over the countryside until we can meet up. Tell Alexi that Milos Anatole and the driver, Pete Boedecker, are at the Motel 6 in San Marcus.”

  He heard Kerry talking, then she came back on the phone. “We could meet someplace around here, then drive to San Marcus together and meet up with them. Is Lady Gwendolyn staying at the same motel?”

  “Uh, no, she’s not.” Hank glanced behind him at Wendy’s frowning, confused features. “We decided it would be better if she were here at the house for when the prince showed up.”

  “So go wake her up and tell her what’s going on.”

  “She’s already up.”

  Silence. “Hank, is she right there?”

  “None of your business, squirt.”

  “So you can hand her the phone?”

  “I can do that, but first we need to decide where to meet. How about behind the Kash ’n’ Karry?”

  “Too public,” Kerry objected. “Someone might be there early.”

  “What about the old homestead on Travis’s property? That’s on the back way to San Marcus, and we can leave your car there.”

  “Okay. When can you get there?”

  He looked back at Wendy. “Give us thirty minutes.”

  “Okay,” Kerry said with a sigh. “Thanks, Hank.”

  “That’s okay, squirt. I know this wasn’t your fault.”

  “You don’t know any such thing,” she said before she disconnected the call.

  “Damn,” he said, rubbing his hand across his face. “This isn’t the way I wanted to start the morning.”

  “Yes,” Wendy said, rolling toward the other side of the bed. “But we knew this was coming.”

  He leaned back and captured her hand before she gathered her clothes and headed for the bathroom. “I wasn’t ready for the morning to come so quickly,” he confessed.

  “But it was inevitable, wasn’t it?” she answered softly. “The night is over.” Taking a deep breath, she hugged her jeans and cotton sweater to her chest before escaping to the privacy of the guest bath off the hall.

  Hank didn’t want to hurry but knew they didn’t have much time. He rushed through a shower and didn’t bother to shave. Pulling on his jeans and a clean shirt, he thought about Wendy. She was probably plotting the switch, wording statements in her head and preparing plausible explanations for everything that the tabloid reporters thought they knew.

  Would she have even a moment to think about last night? He hoped the hell she did. If he was going to be miserable, he wanted her to share some of his pain. He wanted to know she regretted their parting. He wanted her to feel the loss, like someone was slowly tearing off a limb or removing a vital organ.

  He’d done the impossible; he’d fallen in love with exactly the wrong kind of woman at the worst possible moment.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gwendolyn felt as though she hadn’t seen Alexi in months rather than days. Just behind the house with faded white paint and aged wood, the crown prince of Belegovia and Hank’s former girlfriend waited in the pale light of dawn. As the tires of Hank’s dually crunched through knee-high weeds already turning brown in the late-spring heat, over the rutted path of gravel and dirt, she leaned forward in the seat for her first sign of the prince.

  Yes, she wanted to shake him until his perfect teeth rattled. She wanted to yell at him like a fishwife, asking him what he was possibly thinking to run off like that. But she would do neither. She would hold her tongue and save her anger for later, when they were safely on the private jet back to Belegovia.

  On the plane, flying away from Hank…She could barely imagine leaving so abruptly. Her stomach felt queasy as the truck swayed from side to side. Tension speared her neck and shoulders as the bumper of a pale blue car appeared behind the corner of a peeling red barn, shaded from the slanting rays of morning sun by a large tree.

  “They’re here,” Hank said, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He frowned as fiercely and intensely as he did with everything. He could become angry just as quickly as he could laugh, and his moods might seem volatile to some people. But Gwendolyn knew Hank cared about those who were awarded with both his teasing and his frowns.

  With one last look behind him to make sure he hadn’t been followed, he turned behind the house and parked the dually beneath the large tree, next to the compact car.

  Gwendolyn didn’t wait for Hank to shut off the engine; she opened her door and jumped down from the truck. Alexi stood with his arms draped around the petite blond waitress Gwendolyn had met at the truck stop a lifetime ago.

  “I had planned to save my lecture for later, when we were alone, but I cannot hold my tongue,” she announced as she strode toward the couple. “Of all the irresponsible stunts you’ve pulled over the years, Alexi Ladislas, this one is the worst, do you hear me?” she hissed as she stood in front of the somber couple. Her voice rose to a screech. “What were you thinking?”

  “Hello, Gwendolyn,” the prince responded calmly to her theatrics. “You remember Kerry, don’t you?” He looked beyond, his gaze dark. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting my alter ego.”

  “I’m not your alter ego, you inconsiderate son of a—”

  “Hank!” Gwendolyn took one look at his clenched fists and grabbed his arm before he marched right up to Alexi and punched his nose.

  “You don’t think much of me, I know. Well, we don’t have time to go into our differences at the moment,” Alexi said calmly, rubbing his hand up and down Kerry Lynn’s arm. The young blonde looked as though she was trying to be poised in the face of two irrational combatants and a supreme diplomat. “The truth is, I can’t completely explain my actions.” He looked down at Kerry with such a tender expression that Gwendolyn’s breath caught in her throat. My God, he’s in love with her. She closed h
er mouth and stared.

  “Kerry Lynn, are you okay?” Hank asked, shaking off Gwendolyn’s hand.

  “Of course I’m okay,” Kerry said, raising her chin and glaring at him. “Now, try to be nice while we drive to San Marcus, will you? If you’d give Alex a chance, you’d like him.”

  “Fat chance. He’s caused too many people too much trouble for me to be civil to the guy.”

  “Hank, please,” Gwendolyn said, placing her hand on his arm again. “I know you’re angry, but Kerry’s right. We don’t have time for arguments. We must get our stories straight. I’ve decided we’re going to have a ‘meeting’ of the two of you later today, so you have one more acting challenge in front of you.”

  He looked down at her, his expression fierce. “I’m doin’ this for you, not for him,” he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the prince. “For all I care, he can dig himself out of the mess he’s made.”

  “Oh, that’s just great, Hank McCauley,” Kerry Lynn said, pulling away from Alexi and glaring at the cowboy. “You know what? This isn’t about you. I don’t want my mother and sisters to read tacky comments and downright lies about me in the papers. If you care anything at all about me, you won’t make me go through that.”

  “Dammit, Kerry, you should have thought of that before you ran off with the guy,” Hank said, shaking his finger at her. “If you were a few years younger, I’d turn you over my knee and blister your bottom.”

  “You’d do no such thing, you big fraud. Now, quit trying to sound so fierce and calm down. We don’t have that much time left,” she said, looking up at Alexi with longing.

  “Yes, let’s be off,” Gwendolyn said before more harsh words could be exchanged. “We must work out the details so there won’t be any lapses in front of the cameras or microphones.”

  “All right,” Hank said, sounding like a little boy whose toys had been temporarily taken away, “but I’d better be hearin’ an apology to Lady Wendy for all the problems your runaway prince has caused.”

  “He’s not my—” Kerry started to say.

  “Gwendolyn, I truly am sorry for the problems my impulsive actions caused,” Alexi said. He looked as though he wanted to take her hand, as he often did when he was being sincere and charming, but Hank’s venomous glare stopped him.

  Hank McCauley was one of the few people in the world who had the ability to make Prince Alexi of Belegovia back down. The sight was awe-inspiring, Gwendolyn thought as she glanced from one man to the other. Yes, they looked alike in a superficial manner, but they were worlds apart in disposition, background and goals.

  Suddenly, Gwendolyn realized what had been eluding her since she’d met Hank. The main difference was that Hank knew what he wanted from life: his ranch, training horses and living among friends he cared for and who cared for him. Alexi, on the other hand, despite being a prince and heir to a monarchy, hadn’t yet found his own personal goal. His random and occasional outbursts of irresponsibility were his way of seeking a personal life, separate from the royal family.

  Her anger deflated. She reached forward and took Alexi’s hand as she hadn’t done in years, since they were school chums back in England. “I understand, truly I do. And I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

  “Wendy, don’t start apologizing. You had a right to be angry,” Hank said indignantly.

  “Yes, I did. And now I have a right to accept his apology and get on with things. Come along, then. We have a lot to accomplish and only about half an hour before we meet Milos and Mr. Boedecker.”

  The men stared at her as though she’d gone daft, but she didn’t have time to explain her revelations.

  “Great idea. Come on, guys,” Kerry Lynn said, tugging the prince toward the pickup truck. “I’ll bet you’ve never ridden in the back seat of a dually.”

  He gazed fondly at her. “No, I haven’t.”

  Gwendolyn watched Hank glare at their retreating backs. “Please, try to be considerate,” she said. “I think your anger at Prince Alexi may hurt Kerry Lynn more than help her.”

  Hank turned to face her, still frowning. “Is that what you think this is about? Kerry?” He shook his head. “I’m madder than a wet hen because of the way he treated you, not Kerry.”

  “I’m fine, really.”

  “You deserve more than his irresponsible actions and a halfway sincere apology.”

  “He truly is sorry, Hank. I’ve known him for years, and believe me, I can tell more about what he’s thinking and feeling than you.”

  “So that’s supposed to reassure me?”

  “No, I’m just explaining. Alexi and I are old friends, much like you and Kerry. I care for him as a friend, and yes, he’s hurt my feelings before. I’ll get over it.” She swallowed and put on her best professional smile to hide the fact her heart was ripping in two. “What I won’t be able to forget is your anger. I don’t want to part like this.”

  He looked at her blankly a moment, as though her words made no sense. “You’re not gone yet.”

  “No, but I will be. Things will progress rapidly today, and I’m afraid we won’t have time alone.”

  “Wendy, don’t—” He reached for her, but she headed for the truck.

  “And we will need to keep to a strict schedule to assure the press the prince is recovering from his cold, and you and Kerry were together all along, and you’ve just met the prince when the two of you shake hands for the photographers.”

  “Don’t leave like this. We need more time.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she kept on walking, unshed tears burning her eyes, “but our time has run out.”

  HANK COOLED HIS HEELS at the Dairy Queen in San Marcus with Kerry Lynn while the prince showered, shaved and dressed in his designer clothes. He was bound to look different than he had this morning, when they’d met up behind the barn. Hank had the strangest feeling he was looking in a mirror, seeing the prince dressed in jeans and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, with his arm around Kerry Lynn.

  “How much longer?” she asked after taking a long sip of her Oreo Blizzard.

  Hank glanced at his watch. “Five minutes.” He ran his hand over his bristly jaw. “I sure wish Wendy would have let me shave. I feel like the back end of a porcupine.”

  “The scruffy look makes you seem different from the prince.”

  “I know, but I’d be a heck of a lot more comfortable in clean clothes and no beard.”

  “We’ve had a wild weekend, remember? You’re not supposed to look well groomed.”

  He looked at her long and hard, like he would a sister who’d spent four days with some guy she’d just met. “Is that what you and the prince had—a wild weekend?”

  “None of your business,” she said, slurping the last mouthful of Blizzard from the cup.

  “What does your momma think about all this?”

  Kerry suddenly looked uncomfortable. “We haven’t had time to talk. She’d already left when I took Alexi by the Café. You know I didn’t see her after the graduation ceremony, mainly because I knew you would find me and I’d have to explain everything. I didn’t want to get into all that in the crowd.”

  “She was worried about you when I went to see her at the Four Square Café Friday.”

  “I’m a grown woman, Hank, not some silly teenager. I’ve worked damn hard the past ten years and I deserved this short vacation.”

  “Is that all it was?”

  She sat her empty cup in the drink holder, her expression pained. “That’s all it can be, Hank. He’s a prince. Do you realize how far apart we are in every way that matters?”

  He gripped the steering wheel to keep his fists from clenching. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  Kerry looked up at him with those big green eyes of hers. “Because of you and Lady Gwendolyn?”

  He took a deep breath and looked away. “I suppose. But like you said, we’re worlds apart.”

  “Maybe she’d stay if you asked real nice.”

  “I asked. She wasn’t
buying.”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s for the best, though. I mean, she’s an English lady and she’s used to the life she has at the palace in Belegovia and in those drafty old manor houses back home. She’d probably last a month in Texas before she went running back to Europe.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” But he sure as hell would have liked a chance to find out.

  They sat in silence for a moment, then Hank reached for the keys and cranked the engine. “Let’s get going. Sittin’ in the Dairy Queen and commiserating on our troubles is too depressin’.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  He pulled the dually out of the parking space and headed back to Ranger Springs.

  His greatest acting challenge hadn’t been convincing the governor of Texas that he was a foreign prince, nor had it been pretending to converse with an Italian contessa. No, his greatest acting challenge would be to hide the fact he was in love with Lady Gwendolyn Reed.

  THE GAZEBO ON THE TOWN square in Ranger Springs was draped in red, white and blue crepe paper. The Fourth of July Festival committee had been pressed into service early this year, stapling and taping the annual decorations in place in the middle of May. A microphone had been positioned inside the gazebo for speaking to the crowd of citizens and reporters who had gathered. On one of the benches inside the gazebo, Travis’s friend and neighbor, Hank McCauley, sat beside Kerry Lynn Jacks, who didn’t look real happy to be here this afternoon. Hank looked kind of scruffy, as though he’d just gotten out of bed, which was strange. Hank never appeared in public without a good close shave. Something odd was happening here besides a royal visit.

  Frankly, Travis thought as he gazed out at the audience, there were more reporters than curious spectators. He hadn’t seen that many cameras since he’d taken his niece and nephew to Disney World. There were two news crews with video equipment, one from San Antonio and one from Austin. He suspected there would have been more except for the hurried nature of this visit.

  Mrs. Jacks stood nervously near the entrance to the gazebo. Dr. Ambrose Wheatley and his wife Joyce stood beside her, and Thelma Rogers tested her own voice into a black cassette recorder she held in one hand.