The Rancher and the City Girl

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The Rancher and the City Girl Page 12

by Kathy Douglass


  Oh, Lord, please don’t let her have seen me staring at Jericho.

  The wicked grin on the other woman’s face let Camille know that prayer wouldn’t be answered.

  “Hi, Joni. I was just telling Megan and Suzanne how much fun we’re going to have.”

  “I’ll bet.” Joni gave each girl a squeeze and nudged them forward. “They’re a little shy, but they’ll warm up fast.”

  “How long can they stay?”

  “Their uncle wants them home for dinner at five. It’s about an hour’s drive from here, so how about three thirty? I can come back earlier if you think that’s too long.”

  “Three thirty sounds great.”

  “In that case, I’ll see you ladies later.” Joni gently tugged each girl’s braids and waved at Nathaniel. “Have a great time.”

  Camille and the girls waved, and then she led them to where Jericho and Nathaniel stood. She was determined to do whatever it took to make this day enjoyable. The first thing to do was introduce the children to the horses.

  Although he had helped her welcome the kids, she knew Jericho didn’t want any part in entertaining them. She alone was responsible for the children. Smiling her brightest, she interrupted Nathaniel, who was still talking. “Hi. I’m Camille.”

  “Hi. I’m Nathaniel. Thank you for inviting us to your ranch.”

  Deciding not to explain that she was simply a visitor herself, she replied, “You’re welcome.” Jericho raised an eyebrow but was mercifully silent. “Have any of you ever ridden a horse before?”

  “No. But I’m sure I can do it. I’ve seen lots of cowboy movies,” Nathaniel piped up.

  “Well, then, let’s get started.” She looked at Jericho, who was smothering a smile. “I know you must have things to do, so I’ll take the kids to the corral and get them introduced to the horses.”

  “I have time.” He glanced at the girls, who didn’t seem too excited. “From the looks of it, you’re going to have a bit of a time getting the two little ones to ride. And Nathaniel is going to burst if he has to wait a second longer. How about I get him on a horse and you get the girls comfortable?”

  She had been trying to figure out how to manage just that. “You sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “Thanks.”

  She watched as he sauntered off, his arm on the boy’s shoulder, then turned her attention back to her two young charges. “So, do you want to see the horses?”

  “In a minute,” Megan said, her eyes fixed on the flower garden Camille had spent hours repairing. It looked pretty spiffy, if she did say so herself.

  “What about you, Suzanne?”

  The other girl shrugged. “In a minute.”

  “Do you like the flowers?”

  Megan nodded. “We used to have flowers before...”

  “Before what, sweetie?”

  “Before Mommy got sick.”

  Suzanne stepped closer to her sister. They clasped hands. “All her hair is gone. And she throws up a lot. And cries.”

  Camille’s heart ached for these little girls. They were too young to have to endure such tragedy. Sadly, misfortune didn’t take age into account.

  “I’m sorry your mommy is sick. Do you think she’d like some flowers?”

  Both girls nodded vigorously.

  “Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll cut some for you to take home and give to her.”

  “Like a surprise?” Megan asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I like surprises,” Megan replied. Her sister nodded.

  “Then let’s get started.”

  Camille and the girls spent the next half hour choosing and cutting flowers. They were particular about what they wanted and deliberated over each bloom. Afterward, the garden wouldn’t look the same, but she didn’t think Jericho would mind since he’d let it become overrun with weeds. Once they had enough for the biggest bouquet known to man, Camille trimmed the flowers and helped the girls arrange them in a vase she found in the back of a cabinet.

  Megan clapped her hands ecstatically. “Mommy is going to love them.”

  “I’m sure she will. Now let’s go see the horses.”

  The girls raced across the grass. They slowed when they reached the corral and saw Nathaniel sitting on Buttercup. He was slowly making his way around the pen, Jericho walking beside him and giving gentle instructions. As Camille got closer, Jericho’s deep voice carried to her, sending crazy shivers down her spine. She shook her head, determined not to let her attraction to this man grow. He wasn’t interested in her that way. His heart belonged to Jeanette, and it would behoove her to remember that.

  He looked up as she and the girls approached the fence. When he smiled, her heart leaped despite the lecture she’d just given herself. He spoke to Nathaniel, then led horse and boy to the fence.

  “Look, you guys. I’m riding,” Nathaniel said.

  “Is it fun?” Megan asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “It looks scary to me,” Suzanne added.

  “That’s just because Buttercup is so big,” Jericho added. “Once you start riding, you’ll love it.”

  The little girl looked up at the horse again, then slid her hand into Camille’s. Camille had never considered herself the maternal type, but this little one was making her rethink that position. Of course, the child was such a sweetheart even the coldest heart would melt just from being around her.

  Jericho stooped down and met Suzanne at her level. “You don’t have to ride if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want to. I want to play with the dog.”

  As if he knew he was being discussed, Shadow raced over and stood in front of the little girl, his tail wagging back and forth. Although she was afraid of horses, she showed no such fear of canines. She reached out her pudgy arms and wrapped them around Shadow’s neck, giving him a tight squeeze. The dog licked her face, and she giggled as she wiped her forearm across her cheek.

  Megan looked longingly at the horse but didn’t budge.

  “Would you like to ride?” Jericho asked as he pushed to his feet.

  “Yes. No.”

  “Would you feel better if I rode with you?”

  “You mean at the same time?”

  “Yes.”

  “On the same horse?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded.

  Five minutes later Jericho and Megan were circling the corral on Sapphire, one of his milder horses. He held the girl’s small body securely in his arms. Megan was grinning from ear to ear. “Look. I’m riding, too.”

  Suzanne looked at her sister, then began rubbing Shadow’s belly.

  “Do you want a turn on the horse if Jericho holds you?”

  “No. I don’t have to ride if I don’t want, do I?” Her voice trembled.

  “Absolutely not. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Today is all about fun.”

  The next hours passed in a flurry of laughter. After about fifteen minutes, Megan decided she’d rather play fetch with Shadow, so she and her sister tossed a tennis ball to the dog, who was thrilled with the attention. Neither girl seemed to mind that the dog didn’t have a grasp on the rules and that they had to chase him to get the ball back. Meanwhile, Nathaniel convinced Jericho to let him walk the horse a little bit faster, and when he reached a trot he let out a whoop of joy.

  Although the boy didn’t want to stop riding, Jericho convinced him to eat a late lunch. They washed their hands, then took seats around the patio table.

  “Cowboys need to eat right to stay healthy and strong,” Jericho pointed out, sliding carrot sticks beside the hot dog and cookies Nathaniel had put on his plate.

  “Okay.” He added a couple of broccoli stalks as well, probably because Jericho had some on his plate. Clearly the boy had a serious case of hero worshi
p.

  As they ate, Nathaniel peppered Jericho with questions about ranching. Megan joined in the conversation, but little Suzanne was content to listen.

  After lunch, Jericho showed Nathaniel around the stables and Camille and the girls played with Shadow.

  Before Camille knew it, Joni was back for the children. Camille herded them into the bathroom where she washed the girls’ faces and hands and instructed Nathaniel to do the same. Their clothes were a little worse for wear, but all things considered, they looked presentable. Most important, they’d had a great time.

  Camille handed a plastic-wrapped plate piled high with slices of cake and cookies to Joni. “I might have overdone the baking. Maybe their mother and uncle will like some, as well.”

  “You’re a sweetie.”

  Camille shrugged. She wasn’t doing anything extraordinary.

  “We forgot Mommy’s flowers!” Megan yelled.

  Camille retrieved them and helped secure the bouquet in the back seat between the girls, who held it in place. Jericho and Nathaniel laughed about something and then the boy got into the car, a mile-wide smile on his face.

  Joni gave Camille a hug and whispered in her ear, “I don’t know where you came from, but you’re just what Jericho needs. I hope you can stick around for a while.”

  “It’s not me. It’s Nathaniel and his sisters.” Camille hadn’t seen Jericho this happy before.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. There’s a gleam in his eye that’s been missing for a while. I noticed it the other day. It has nothing to do with the kids and everything to do with you, Camille. You’re bringing Jericho back to life.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Thanks.”

  Jericho looked at the feminine hand gently resting on his arm, then into Camille’s face. “For what?”

  “You know what. For spending time with the kids. It must be hard being around children when you lost your own baby before he was even born. You could have ignored Nathaniel and the girls, but you didn’t. You went out of your way to make today special for them.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “Don’t do that, Jericho. Don’t minimize what you did. You’re a good man. I’ve never met a man with a kinder heart. Jeanette was right to choose you.”

  Her words pierced his defenses, and he snatched his arm away from her fingers. “You’re wrong. I was the biggest mistake Jeanette ever made. She should have stayed with your brother. If she had, she’d still be alive.”

  He needed to get away from here. He saddled Diablo and jumped on his mount, turning toward the open pasture and the serenity beyond. He’d left Camille standing in the barn. But he couldn’t stand there one more minute looking into her glowing face and listening to her misplaced praise.

  He was responsible for Jeanette’s death. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the guilt. Jeanette and their child had died because of him. Being nice to some kids for a day wouldn’t change that.

  Without meaning to, he led Diablo to his favorite place. He slowed the horse to a walk and led him to the watering hole. After dismounting, he leaned against a tree, sliding slowly to the ground, closing his eyes against the pain that ran in never-ending circles in his mind. The if-onlys returned with a vengeance. If only he’d checked on her. If only they lived closer to a hospital. If only...

  The sound of a horse’s hooves yanked him out of his disturbing thoughts, and he scanned the area. A moment later Buttercup and her rider came into view.

  Camille didn’t speak as she slid from the mare’s back. Holding the reins, she led Buttercup to the water, then crossed the soft grass. She sat beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. Her sweet scent floated to his nostrils, and despite the coldness in his soul, he felt a flicker of hope that warmed him inside. He squashed it. He didn’t deserve a second chance.

  After sitting in silence for a while, she finally spoke. “Tell me what happened.”

  He rubbed his forehead. He’d never spoken about that day to anyone. Perhaps talking about it would help.

  He glanced down at Camille, who was staring at him, her eyes gentle. Nonjudgmental. She reached out a hand and covered his. Her skin was soft as velvet. But he’d learned no matter how soft she felt on the outside, she was as strong as steel on the inside. “Jeanette wasn’t a morning person.”

  “I remember. She used to say she’d heard there was a six o’clock in the morning, but she would have to take it on faith.”

  He smiled. “Living on a ranch didn’t change that. If anything, the quiet helped her sleep longer. Not that I minded.” He’d loved watching her sleep. There was a sweetness about her that made those times sacred. “On the other hand, I get up at the crack of dawn.”

  Camille smiled. “I noticed.”

  “I always did my morning chores while she was sleeping. When I was finished we’d fix breakfast together. Once she became pregnant, she slept even more. If she wasn’t awake when I finished my chores, I’d cook breakfast and bring it to her in bed.

  “That day I didn’t. I was distracted by how much I had to get done. A couple of the ranch hands were sick and I told them to stay away. I didn’t want them spreading their germs to Jeanette.” He raked a hand over his head. “I should have gone in to check on her, but we’d been out the night before and I thought she could use a little bit more sleep.”

  “That’s reasonable and quite considerate.”

  “Considerate? I was so busy working that I didn’t notice how much time had passed. My wife was lying there dying and I...” He swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence.

  Camille squeezed his hand. “You didn’t know.”

  He brushed aside her words. Camille would never fully understand how selfish his actions had been that day. “I finished with the horses and then went inside. It was pretty late, but she still wasn’t awake. I left a tray with juice and toast for her and went back to work.”

  His vision blurred, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t deserve the relief that came from crying. “I returned an hour or so later and found her on the floor beside the bedroom door. She had been trying to get to me. Who knows how long she had been lying there. I picked her up and laid her on the bed. And that’s when I saw the blood on the sheets. There was so much blood.” His voice cracked; the pain was just as sharp as it had been that day.

  “She’d gone into premature labor and was hemorrhaging. She looked at me with pain and fear in her eyes and begged me to save our baby. She grabbed my arm and told me if the doctor had to choose, let the baby live. I couldn’t promise that. She wouldn’t let me go until I did. So I promised to let the woman I loved more than life die.”

  He leaned his head against the tree trunk. Sometimes it hurt so much he thought he would lose his mind. But there was no getting around what he’d done. He felt a soft hand on his cheek and realized tears had leaked from his eyes. The urge to lean into Camille’s hand was strong, but he didn’t want her pity. Now that he’d started telling the story he had to finish it. She had to hear it all so she would know just the kind of man he was.

  “I had to get her to the hospital. It would take forever for an ambulance to get here, so I wrapped her in a blanket and carried her to the truck. I could feel the life slipping out of her. We had been driving for about fifteen minutes when she told me she needed to push. Our baby was born on the side of the road. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t stop driving. By the time I got to the emergency room, it was too late for Jeanette. She had bled to death. Our sweet baby was a fighter, but he died thirteen hours and forty-one minutes later. I lost them both, and it’s my fault.”

  “How is it your fault?”

  “Because I didn’t take good enough care of her. I should have tried to wake her up when I took her breakfast upstairs. If she could have gotten a blood transfusion, she would be alive today.”

  “You had no way of kno
wing what was going to happen.”

  “I should have done something differently. Maybe moved from the ranch. I should have moved closer to the hospital. Hell, I should have moved to Charlotte.”

  “Did the doctors tell you to move to town?”

  He sighed heavily. “No. According to them the pregnancy was progressing normally.”

  “If the doctors couldn’t see a problem, there is no way you could have. Jeanette loved you so much. She wouldn’t want you to feel guilty. She wouldn’t blame you. You need to forgive yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He stood, needing to distance himself from the turbulent emotions rolling through him.

  Camille stood, as well. Before he knew what she intended, she put her hands on his shoulders and brushed her lips against his. He knew she meant the kiss as comfort, but lust suddenly burned through him, blazing a path of need. Self-loathing soon followed, and he jumped back.

  He couldn’t risk getting involved with her. She was more of a city girl than Jeanette had ever been. There was no way she could thrive here. They were too far away from malls and theaters. Hospitals. He couldn’t bear it if another woman died because of him.

  Right now, he needed to get away from her before he did something crazy like kiss her the way he wanted to. “I have to go. Can you find your way back to the house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He mounted Diablo and raced away as if the hounds of hell were after him. Maybe if he rode fast enough he would be able to forget the feel of her soft lips and her sweet taste. Maybe he could forget that for the first time in a long time his life had felt right. Maybe. But he doubted it.

  * * *

  Camille stood frozen to the spot, watching as Jericho rode away from her until the small dust trail disappeared into the trees. Even then she couldn’t find the will to move, much less get on her horse and follow Jericho back to the house.

  She didn’t know why she’d kissed him. Not one of her better ideas. To be honest, she hadn’t given it any thought but rather had acted on impulse.

  She’d meant to comfort him. For some odd reason a kiss seemed better than a pat on his arm. Wrong. Her lips were still tingling from the brief contact while he was trying to get as far away from her as he could. The way he pulled away from her, as if her lips were poison, hurt. Thank goodness he hadn’t hung around and explained that it wasn’t her, it was him. She didn’t have it in her to withstand that type of humiliation.

 

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