"You can call me Mia." Her smile had him noticing her shapely lips. "No, 'miss' required."
He swallowed hard. "I'm Ethan Townsend."
Her flowery, feminine scent was noticeable, probably because he stank so badly. That realization just made him blush harder.
He expected her to walk away, having done the polite thing by not leaving him out as she was handing out cold drinks. To his surprise, she propped her pretty, pointy-toed boot on the bottom railing and leaned her elbows on the fence next to him.
"So, Ethan. How long have you worked on the Triple H?"
He'd taken a gulp of the cold water, and now swallowed it wrong. It burned all the way down. He cleared his throat.
"I'm just extra help for a couple of days."
"Oh, I didn't realize."
There was a short, awkward pause, and then she asked, "What do you do?"
"I run a dairy farm on the opposite side of town." He didn't like to say he owned the farm, because really, the bank owned it. Carol had mortgaged it to the hilt, and he was lucky to make the payments and keep enough cash for himself and the boys to eat. Teenaged boys weren't cheap to feed.
"That must be a fun job."
Fun. Said the woman who'd obviously never had to be on the clock at four a.m. She'd probably never even thought about cleaning machinery and shoveling cow patties until your eyes crossed, and then doing it all over again in the afternoon.
And repeating it. Every single day.
He didn't nod, couldn't lie, though he softened it with what smile he could dredge up. "It's something." Hopefully only for another three years, but he couldn't focus too hard on that. Couldn't afford to jinx himself.
He was no expert in holding his own in a conversation with a beautiful woman, but it seemed like it was his turn to say something. "Are you just visiting our part of Texas?"
She tilted her head to one side, her brows furrowed slightly in a way that shouldn't be so adorable. Like she couldn't figure him out. She glanced over to where Gideon's girlfriend sat and then back to him. "Yes, for a few weeks."
And then Brian, one of the Triple H hands, rode by inside the temp fence they'd constructed early that morning, his horse kicking up dust. "Townsend, you about done flirting with the princess? I know it's a treat having a real royal highness around, but you ain't getting paid to stand there."
He was used to the ribbing from the Triple H hands. They were a tight-knit group, and when he got hired on for the most unpleasant tasks, like today's drenching and springtime steer cutting, they made him a part of the pack.
But this joke hit him right in the solar plexus. Princess? This gal was a princess?
Brian laughed. "You didn't know? How could you not know, man?"
Most days, he barely had time to eat. His stepbrothers had the only TV in the house in their bedroom, and they couldn't afford to take the paper.
And ever since last summer, he'd blocked his ears from all town gossip.
He could barely glance at her, but when he did, he noticed the color high on her cheeks. "I think it's refreshing," she called out to Brian, who was already spreading Ethan's humiliation to the next closest cowhand.
She slid a glance to him, offered a smile. "My sister is engaged to Gideon."
There must be a story there, but his throat had closed up. He wouldn't have asked anyway.
He'd been standing here next to a real, live princess and probably making himself look a fool. As if he needed any help with that.
He'd grabbed the water and now forced it down his gullet, twisting the cap back on the empty bottle. He tossed it in a nearby barrel and nodded at the beautiful princess who'd given him the time of day. "Thank you."
He didn't dare glance at her as he ducked through the railing and back into the corral.
He was such a dunce.
* * *
Alessandra rubbed her eye sockets, blinking away the after-glare from staring at her laptop screen for too long. She was curled up on the couch in Gideon's living room, only one lamp lighting the space. Gideon's German Shepherd Dog Apollo snored softly from his cushion near the front door.
Though she was frustrated with her self-assigned task, she was glad to be on the Triple H. It felt like home, maybe more so than her suite of rooms at the castle in Glorvaird. Her kingdom was part bustling metropolis and part seaside village, but when she was there, she missed the wide-open spaces of Gideon's north Texas ranch.
"You still up?"
Gideon stood in the doorway, leaning one broad shoulder against the jamb. He'd told her he needed to work on the ranch's books for a while, but that had been... she checked the clock on her laptop's screen. Nearly three hours ago. He'd untucked his shirt and now stood in sock feet, apparently ready to go to bed.
"I thought this would be easier," she admitted, closing the laptop's screen and pushing it away on the couch cushion. Before she'd left Glorvaird, her older sister Eloise had delivered a piece of unexpected news—that the princesses had a half-sister from an affair their father'd had years ago—and tasked Alessandra with finding the lost princess.
Gideon came closer, and Alessandra stood, stretching her stiff muscles. She'd been so zoned-in to her search on the computer, following rabbit trail after rabbit trail.
Gideon's hands closed over her elbows, sliding slowly up her arms as he held her close.
"It'll take time," he said into her hair.
She knew he'd put out feelers with his contacts in the military—Gideon was a former Navy SEAL. She also knew her older sister had hired two private investigators to try and find the girl—woman now—who'd fallen off the map several years ago.
Her father wanted to see his long-lost daughter before he died. And though the doctor could only estimate when that might be, the clock was ticking. Alessandra felt the unknown deadline pressing down on her, and with it, a desire to return to Glorvaird to try and build the closer relationship with her father that she'd always wanted.
If Father was willing. When he'd first been diagnosed with MS, he hadn't wanted to make any changes to his lifestyle, hadn't wanted to spend more time with his daughters, even though his time on earth was limited.
That still hurt, but she was determined not to let her father go without fighting for a closer relationship.
Now that loving Gideon had shown her what a real relationship, built from true love, could look like.
Just being close to her fiancé like this made her frustration start to fall away. She leaned her head against his shoulder. His hands moved up even more, rubbing gentle circles into her shoulders and the back of her neck, loosening muscles gone tight from inactivity.
"You tell Mia yet?"
"No." As Gideon would say, that was the other burr under her saddle. Eloise had told Alessandra about their lost sister, and it had been a total shock. Eloise hadn't told Mia. She'd left it up to Alessandra when to break the news.
Alessandra was still coming to terms with it herself. Her mother had died when she was small, just five years old. Mia had been even smaller at three. She had no memories of their mother. If Alessandra had felt betrayed at hearing this news about their father, what would Mia feel? Father had been the only parent she'd known.
Plus, she was still trying to navigate the changing relationship with her younger sister. It wasn't until Alessandra's life had been threatened by an assassination attempt that she'd faced the reality of how broken their family had become. With Father caught up in his royal duties and now pushing many of those duties onto the crown princess, there was no real family structure.
And Alessandra wanted a real family. When she'd come to Gideon's ranch, lost and alone, she'd found the family she'd been looking for. And she wanted to rebuild what could be with her own family.
If Mia found out she'd been keeping this secret—for over two weeks now—she'd be hurt. It might put a wedge between the tentative friendship they'd been expanding since Alessandra had returned to Glorvaird after the assassination attempt.
&nb
sp; Gideon's magic fingers relaxed her so much that her head fell back.
Which must've been what he wanted, because it gave him access to her face. His calloused hands moved to cup her jaw, and he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her with a gentle intensity that had her tingling all the way down to her toes.
Her hands rested on his muscled chest, amazed at the power harnessed there, amazed that this virile, powerful man loved her back.
He pressed kisses against her temple and cheek, finally pressing his jaw to her ear.
Her racing heart still hadn't slowed.
"What about you?" she asked. "Did you get your books balanced?" She didn't know anything about the ranch's accounting, but Gideon carried a heavy load with managing the ranch, which his stepfather had left to the three Hales, Gideon, his brother Matt, and his sister Carrie. When Gideon had declared his love for Alessandra, he'd also given up some of the rigid control, leaving more of running the ranch in the foreman's hands. The ranch also employed four other hands to care for the large spread and keep it running smoothly.
It wasn't easy for Gideon to be away for long periods of time. But he'd done it because he loved her.
Now she felt the tension coiled in him. She realized he hadn't answered her question. "What?" she whispered.
"Something's going on," he said. "There's a discrepancy in the accounting. I haven't found what it is yet, but it wasn't there before we left for Glorvaird."
Her stomach pitched. "What does that mean? Someone's stealing from the Triple H?"
He shrugged slightly, his chest moving beneath her hands. "I don't know yet. It could be an honest mistake." She knew Gideon though, knew he'd seen some of the worst things human beings could do to each other during his missions. He had to be suspicious that it wasn't a mistake. "If one of the hands is responsible, I don't want them to know I've figured anything out yet. Can you keep this is a secret?"
"Of course." She stretched up slightly on her toes and pressed a kiss against his bearded cheek.
"If I'm tied up with this, I'll have to take some time away from the details of the engagement party."
She loved that he called it a party when it was really a full-fledged ball.
"That's all right. I've got Mia here to help, and the event coordinator has handled most of the details." The time they split between Glorvaird and Texas necessitated that they utilized one of the premiere party planners in Dallas. "Since we've already found the venue, it's more about coordinating with the florist and decorators. And finding my dress."
"And managing the security team," he reminded her. "I'll make time for that."
She couldn't help smiling. "And the security team." Since her near-assassination, Gideon had been overprotective. Not that she minded having him close, and protecting was in his nature.
But how would his protective nature react if he discovered someone was stealing from the Triple H?
2
Ethan was elbow-deep scrubbing dog poop out of the kennels when he was paged to the front of the veterinarian's office.
In addition to the odd jobs he picked up, he worked three days a week as a kennel assistant. Mostly cleaning cages. Sometimes clipping a dog's or cat's nails or exercising the dogs who were boarding.
And occasionally, if there was a difficult animal, usually a large dog, the vet would ask for his help when the technicians—most of them vets in training—needed it.
Turned out, he was good with difficult animals.
Just not difficult brothers.
Without the education he'd given up his one shot at, this work was the closest he could get to his dream job.
He joined the vet, Suzanne, and the tech in the larger of the two exam rooms, surprised into hesitating in the doorway when he caught sight of the blonde head bent over a good-sized German Shepherd Dog he recognized. The animal must be edging close to eighty pounds, all muscle.
It wasn't the dog that had his stomach clenching. It was the woman holding its leash.
She looked up, her hair falling in a golden cascade over her shoulder. His initial guess had been correct. It was the princess. Mia.
He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her in the three days since he'd seen her at the Triple H. Today she wore slim slacks with dressy flat shoes and a fuzzy pale green sweater.
Movement caught his eye, and he remembered there were others in the room. Suzanne stood beside the exam table but hadn't approached the dog yet. The usual tech, Candy, was at the vet's elbow, also not approaching the dog.
"Good old Apollo," he said because he didn't know whether it was appropriate to say hello to a princess, or even if he should.
He smelled like dog poop and probably looked like it too. Not that it mattered when Mia was so far out of his realm.
Her expression eased into a smile. "Hi, Ethan."
She remembered his name.
And he didn't miss the vet's sideways look.
"This guy giving you ladies trouble?" He stepped right up to the dog, pushing away the hesitancy he'd felt moments ago. He had to provide a steady presence for the dog, so it would calm down and endure the exam. "I'm a little surprised one of the guys didn't bring him in."
"Trey is outside," Mia explained. "I caught a ride to town with him and Apollo, but he had to take an important phone call." Mia surrendered the leash to Ethan, and their fingers brushed. He worked at schooling his face into a neutral expression, not wanting to show the zing that'd traveled up his arm and straight to his gut.
Candy ducked out of the room, apparently content to let Ethan handle the dog. He'd seen Apollo for the last two annual exams. The big guy did not appreciate the rectal thermometer or the needles that delivered his shots.
Mia stepped back, and Ethan ran his hands down the dog's back and shoulders. Apollo's ears relaxed a little, and Ethan nodded to the vet, who approached with a confident gait.
"Ethan is our resident dog whisperer," Suzanne said, and he felt Mia's curious gaze on him. He kept his focus on the dog.
"He can calm down any unruly animal," the vet continued. "Even this guy."
He was aware of Mia slightly behind him and at his elbow but kept his face angled toward the dog. Maybe she wouldn't see him blushing this time.
"Apollo isn't so bad," he said, with a scratch of the dog's chest. He kept his hand there while the vet manipulated the dog's back legs and feet, checking his joints and muscle movement.
"Is this another of your odd jobs?" Mia asked curiously.
Suzanne answered before he could. "Ethan started volunteering here when he was ten. We had high hopes that he'd join the practice."
The vet moved to Apollo's head, and Ethan moved back a bit, allowing her the room she needed to check the dog's teeth, eyes, and ears.
Suzanne couldn't know how much of a blow her words were, casual as they were spoken. He'd wanted it too, so very badly.
"You know there's still scholarship money earmarked with your name," Suzanne said.
Okay, maybe she did know.
She brought it up every few months, as if he could ever forget it. What did she hope to accomplish now, bringing it up in front of the princess?
He'd tried to keep up with his education that first year after Carol passed. Enrolled in six hours of online classes. It had been impossible to keep up while caring for a ten- and eleven-year-old and running the dairy.
He smiled stiffly at Suzanne, who went on with the exam as if she'd been talking about the weather, not his life. She engaged the princess in conversation about her impressions of Texas.
At four years old, Apollo was in the prime of his life, and it didn't take much longer to give him his vaccinations.
Ethan's heart rate came down after the princess had left the room. The vet was paged for an urgent phone call, and he found himself alone in the exam room. He took out the industrial-strength cleaner beneath the cabinets and wiped down the floor where Apollo had stood for his examination, then disposed of the needles properly.
He was on
his way back to the kennels when the front desk paged him to take a phone call. He ducked into the small employee lunch room, heart pounding. In his experience, surprise phone calls were usually bad news.
He was right.
The high school office asked him to come down. He had just enough time before the afternoon milking.
He met his stepbrothers in the hallway just outside the principal's office. They sat on hard plastic chairs, both wearing sullen expressions.
"It wasn't our fault," Sam muttered.
It never was.
No matter what he said or did, the boys seemed to have a problem with authority. Unlike his dad with him, Carol hadn't instilled any respect in them at all.
Maybe it was because she hadn't respected Ethan, no matter what he'd done for the family, what he'd sacrificed.
Things had come to a head last winter, when his brothers had been picked up by the sheriff's office for defacing one of the buildings on Main Street with spray paint. And the half-empty twelve-pack of beer cans they'd been caught with hadn't won them any brownie points. The business owner had pressed charges, and Robbie and Sam had had to go in front of the county judge. They'd been sentenced to forty hours of community service each.
Ethan had hoped the event had scared them straight, and it had, for a few months.
But then, the boys' behavior had become increasingly worse. He'd had two calls from their teachers in the past month.
The principal, a woman in her mid-fifties with slate-gray hair, stuck her head out the office door. "Coach wants you boys at football practice. I'd like to see you again in the morning, before your first class."
Robbie rolled his eyes.
Ethan nudged his foot, and both boys heaved aggravated sighs.
"Fine," Robbie muttered.
They scooted down the hall toward the locker rooms, leaving Ethan to enter the principal's office alone.
He'd never visited when he'd been in high school.
She steepled her fingers on the edge of her desk after they'd both sat down. "There's been another incident."
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