Cowboy Fairytales Omnibus

by Lacy Williams

  She'd spent years working on the truck. Changed the oil, the spark plugs, the battery, even the alternator, once.

  She knew her truck. And she knew this had been coming, had hoped and prayed that the truck's last legs would hold for just a while longer.

  Apparently, she'd long ago used up her last wish.

  She'd already checked on Maximus. Her horse seemed content standing in the trailer attached to the truck. He wasn’t shaken at all, not like she was when she'd seen the steam pouring from beneath the hood. The April weather was mild, and he'd be fine in the trailer until she came up with a solution.

  Tears threatened and she valiantly sniffed, trying to stem them.

  A few slipped free, and she swiped at them with the backs of her hands.

  Her three cousins were going to laugh so hard when she had to call them to tow Maximus back home.

  They'd already made every joke they could think of about her quest to become a rodeo queen.

  This was supposed to be the first leg of her journey. The first event was tonight. She'd imagined Mama and Daddy looking down from heaven, watching and smiling on her. She was going to redeem Daddy’s tragedy, live up to Mama's legacy on the circuit.

  She touched the locket beneath the neck of her T-shirt. How could she give up now, when she was so close?

  An engine revved and then idled. She swiped at her tears again, in case it was someone she knew—no doubt the small town grapevine would quickly catch wind of her failed adventure.

  She turned to see an unfamiliar black truck, a current-year model if she wasn't mistaken. With boosted wheels and silver rims that sparkled in the midmorning light.

  It rolled to a stop on the two-lane road beside her broken-down pickup.

  The passenger side window lowered with a smooth electric slide—she was hit with a little pang of jealousy for her truck's crank windows—to reveal a handsome dark-haired man she'd never seen before.

  "Need some help?" he asked in a barely-there accent she didn't recognize.

  "Maybe."

  She might only be nineteen, but she knew better than to get in a vehicle with a total stranger. On the other hand, she had grown up with three male cousins and knew how to fight her way out of almost any situation.

  And a huge part of her was trying to find a way—any way—to keep her dream from going up in a puff of smoke.

  Maybe it was foolish, but she stepped closer to the truck and stood on tiptoe to see inside. "I don't suppose you have a spare six-cylinder in here anywhere."

  She used the moment to get a good look at her would-be hero. Wow, he was handsome. He had piercing blue eyes and a patrician nose. She'd read that in a book once but had never seen anyone who fit the description, until now. His strong jaw was covered in a day's worth of dark stubble.

  Broad, muscled shoulders stretched beneath a plaid-patterned shirt complete with silver snaps up the front and on the pockets. The shirt didn't appear to have ever been worn before, and neither did the dark stonewashed Wranglers that encased a muscled pair of thighs.

  She couldn't see his feet but would almost bet that his boots would be brand-new, too.

  His outfit made her think he was some kind of would-be cowboy. The interior of his truck was spotless. No signs of anything a real cowboy would have on hand. Not a pair of leather gloves, a horse's hoof pick, or a coil of rope or anything else.

  Maybe he was a serial killer posing as a cowboy, out looking for unsuspecting young women. Ones who wouldn't know any better.

  "Are you quite finished checking me out?"

  Her head snapped up, and she caught the end of his smile, one that invited all kinds of trouble.

  And that was enough to make her step back from the truck.

  A shadow moved deep in his eyes. Then he slid on a pair of designer sunglasses with dark lenses, hiding the nuances of his expression from her.

  "Do you need a ride to town? Isn't there a little hamlet just up ahead?"

  "A hamlet?" she repeated. She'd never heard anybody use that term outside of a romance novel.

  Who was this guy?

  No one could call the podunk hole she was trying to crawl out of a "hamlet.”

  "Town's three miles that way." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "But I'm not going there. I'm on my way to Austin." She slanted a look back at the rusted white trailer. "I can't leave my horse. Maximus is worth ten times more than my truck was."

  Prince Pieter of Glorvaird couldn't believe the girl he'd stumbled upon.

  Oh, he could easily agree that the horse she claimed was worth more than the truck would be without even seeing the animal—the pile of junk that still had steam rising from beneath its hood had obviously seen better days. Probably during Pieter's childhood.

  But what he couldn't understand was why a beautiful woman like her was out here towing a horse trailer alone. With her sandy-colored long hair streaming down her back and dancing hazel eyes, and those features... She could easily be a fashion model.

  And she was young. She couldn't be more than twenty. Her fresh-faced demeanor and the naivety coming off her in waves made him want to warn her off. She might as well wear a target on her back for unsavory people.

  People like him.

  Not that he had the time or the head space to devote to anything else right now. He was on a mission.

  He wasn't even sure why he'd stopped.

  Or why the sight of the silvery tears she'd tried to wipe away affected him. He wasn't one to be affected by a woman's manipulations—not after dealing with his mother since his childhood.

  The girl seemed suspicious of him, which he supposed was a good thing. It was novel that she didn't recognize him as a prince. In Regis, where he and his mother made their home, he was well known and recognized often.

  Was it providence that she was stranded here when he, too, was driving to Austin?

  He'd landed in Dallas and traveled to the small town where the newspapers reported his cousin, Alessandra, lived while in the United States with her fiancé, a rancher. He’d arrived only to find his cousin gone to some cowboy competition—a rodeo—several hours away. Too far away to enact the revenge that drove him.

  His mother spoke often and fondly of her growing-up years spent in Glorvaird, but she spoke even more of being betrayed by his uncle, the king, and forced out of her beloved homeland.

  Wasn't Pieter a son of Glorvaird? Didn't he deserve to be embraced by the homeland he'd never visited? He didn't hold out hope for any kind of reconciliation with the royal family. He'd come to Texas with a vague idea of finding the one thing that would hurt his cousin the most.

  The crown had abandoned him. The king was his uncle, yet he'd never met the man. Certainly he and Henri could've used some guidance over the years on how to deal with his mentally ill mother.

  As far as he was concerned, his cousins and the king deserved what was coming to them. He just had to find the perfect vehicle for delivering the revenge he desired.

  He'd never met his cousin. The papers reported she'd almost died, thanks to his mother's assassination attempt. The stories of her devoted fiancé, a former solider, claimed he was very protective of his soon-to-be bride.

  Would it be easier to approach Alessandra if Pieter arrived at the rodeo grounds with this young woman? Who would ever suspect someone as innocent-looking as she?

  He didn't know what her business was in Austin. Perhaps there was a chance she was going to the rodeo, as well, since she was towing her horse. Not that it mattered. He knew how to woo a woman to his way of thinking, and they'd have several hours in the truck together for him to win her over.

  "It happens that I am also on my way to Austin," he said. “To meet my cousin.”

  A shadow of something—perhaps suspicion—flitted through her eyes, though she hid it quickly. Good girl.

  "Perhaps we could strike a bargain."

  She looked over her shoulder to the trailer. He saw the fine lines at the corner of her eyes as she considered
his offer.

  It wasn't as if there was much traffic on this two-lane road. No one had driven past during the several minutes he'd been stopped here.

  She bit her lip, and he knew he'd won. She was going to agree.

  "I'll tow your trailer and your horse to Austin. But what will you give me?"

  She leveled a flat gaze on him, mouth firmed in a line. "Not what you're thinking, I'm sure. I'd rather call my cousins"—the deep frown she wore when she mentioned them told him how much she didn't like the idea—"than get physical with you."

  He laughed at her unexpected words. Usually women were content to ply their wiles on him, try to charm him. But not this country girl, with her jeans and T-shirt and hair in a braid down her back.

  Her frank words were such a complete departure from what he was accustomed to that his smile lingered.

  And only seemed to increase her suspicion.

  "I'm serious," she said.

  He leaned his elbow on the steering wheel, body turned almost completely toward her now. "I can tell."

  "So you... aren't interested?" He couldn't get an accurate read on her expression. Was she relieved or disappointed?

  He couldn't say it without lying, not after what she'd just stirred in him. "I didn't say that," he returned. "But I think I can control myself for the four or five hours it takes to get you to Austin. Will you come along, then?"

  "You said we'd strike a bargain." Her chin came up, and he clamped his lips against the urge to smile again. She might give a good show of trying to be tough, but he'd had so many hours of reading his mother that it was really more adorable than anything else.

  "A boon then," he said. "To be redeemed later." It was almost too easy. He'd find a way to use this girl to get close to Alessandra.

  She looked back again, and this time he realized she wasn't looking at the trailer, but at the road. Was she running away from something?

  He reminded himself that he didn't care.

  "It's a deal." She stuck her hand through the open truck window, and he stretched out to shake it. He was surprised by how calloused it was—almost what he might expect from a working man's hand.

  "I'm McKenna Hastings."

  "Pieter." He didn't give his title. Didn't want it getting out who he really was and what he was doing here, not until he'd formulated a better plan.

  "I'll get Maximus out of the trailer," she said. "It'll be easier to unhitch that way."

  He pulled his truck into the drainage ditch in front of hers, just in case someone did meander down this road. The truck was a rental and a high-dollar one at that.

  By the time he'd gotten out of the truck, she'd fitted a ramp to the back of the open trailer and was backing out a magnificent solid black gelding.

  He wasn't a horseman, didn't know much about conformation or the value of the animal, but he could see she'd been right about the animal's worth. It was almost comical, the juxtaposition between the quality of the animal and that of her vehicle.

  It certainly made him curious.

  The shiny black boots he'd purchased at a store in Dallas pinched his toes as he crunched through the grass at the road's edge.

  He peered down at the connector where the trailer was hooked to her truck. He had staff that usually made sure his bicycle was attached to his sports utility vehicle when he went riding. And no idea how to disconnect this.

  Then McKenna was beside him. "Here," she said.

  He backed out of her way as she made quick work of untangling a chain and some wires and then lifting the trailer above the ball.

  She was a slight thing, but she put her shoulder into the trailer and started pushing before he realized what she was doing.

  "Hey!"

  The trailer had already shifted by a foot or more before he joined her on the opposite side of the hitch and put his back into it.

  The stupid boots slipped on the grass and gravel, and he almost lost his footing, but thankfully McKenna didn't seem to notice.

  When they'd moved it several feet away from her truck and angled it so that he could back up to it, she straightened. She didn't even seem winded, so he tried to stifle his labored breathing.

  "You move trailers by yourself often, Supergirl? I thought you said you had cousins to help you."

  She shrugged, flicking a strand of hair that had fallen out of her braid and into her eyes. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

  It was an answer designed to put him off, and he let it, for now. There’d be plenty of time to talk on the road.

  After she'd hitched the horse trailer to Pieter's truck and loaded Maximus back inside, McKenna ducked into her pickup to grab her bags.

  The canvas duffel and well-used garment bag might not look like much, but they held her dreams.

  She looked around the inside of the truck she'd bought secondhand at seventeen. The county might tow it by the time she returned after the weekend was over.

  Then she spent several moments sending a text to her best friend, Kylie. Her friend might be off having the time of her life at Oklahoma University, but they talked every day. McKenna raised the phone to snap a photo of Pieter's truck, another of the man himself, and typed in his license plate number, since she'd been up close and personal with it while she'd hooked up the trailer.

  She might be taking a chance accepting a ride from a total stranger, but she couldn't let this setback ruin her one chance at scholarship money that could change her life. And there was no way she was going with Pieter without leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for her friend, just in case.

  Then she took a deep breath and got out of her truck. She was going to be in a world of trouble when one of her cousins drove to town and saw the abandoned truck. Would they think she'd been abducted?

  But she still didn't text or call them. She would later. Much later.

  She couldn't risk them coming after her and ruining her chance. They'd already done enough with their jeering and joking.

  Duffel in hand and the garment bag slung over her shoulder, McKenna approached the black truck.

  She'd known Pieter was a city boy pretending to be a cowboy based on his clothing, and his actions since he'd stepped out of the truck only confirmed her initial impression.

  A real cowboy would've known how to unhitch a trailer. Would've known not to wear dress boots to work outside—or in her case, push a trailer. And a real cowboy would've followed her to her truck, asking if he could carry her bags.

  There weren't cowboy rules so much as a code of honor.

  And Pieter most definitely didn't have it.

  Which made her wonder just why he'd stopped to help. She'd seen the calculation in his eyes. Knew that his "boon" might be painful when it came due. But she really had no choice, now did she?

  Her new friend sat in the driver's seat adjusting the stereo as she opened the passenger door and then the rear door so she could load her bags into the backseat. It really was a nice truck, lots of legroom back there.

  "You okay?" he asked, shooting a glance at her.

  "Fine." She didn't need a man to open doors for her or unhitch her trailer. After her mom's death when she was three, she and her dad had made due. He'd taught her independence early on, told her Mama’d had an independent spirit.

  Then when he'd passed, too, in the middle of a storm of disasters, she'd been thrown into life with her aunt and uncle and cousins. She'd had to lean on that independent spirit often, just to survive her abrasive, often rude and bullying cousins.

  She'd learned fast to keep quiet and stay out of the way. She could do for herself.

  All she had to do was prove herself.

  Pieter put the truck in gear and eased onto the road.

  She felt the slight rocking of the truck that meant Maximus had shifted in his trailer. In her truck with its bad shocks, she could feel every movement the horse made, but in this new model truck, the thousand-pound animal shifting barely caused a blip.

  Her new friend glanced in the rearview m
irror. "Anything I should know about pulling a horse trailer?"

  "Max is a seasoned traveler," she said. "But horses sometimes move around. You shouldn't have any issues with this baby and its towing capacity, though." She patted the leather seat next to her thigh. The car even smelled new.

  She couldn't help watching his hands flex and move on the steering wheel. He had nice hands. Powerful hands. Even if they were a bit soft, like she imagined a banker or stockbroker would have. Someone who worked inside, at a desk job.

  Her cell phone pinged a message tone, and she glanced at it as unobtrusively as she could.

  * * *

  Kylie: OMG girl you're crazy! At least he's a hot stranger...

  * * *

  Pieter glanced over at her. "Your family?"

  "A friend. I sent her your picture and your license plate number. Just in case you're a crazy serial killer."

  He grinned, eyes back on the road.

  Was it her, or was his grin particularly feral-looking?

  He tapped his index finger against the top of the steering wheel. "So…what's your story? Runaway?"

  She wrinkled her nose, turning to stare out the window. "No," she said smartly. "I'm a competitor."

  "Traveling alone?"

  She shrugged. "My family is busy." And they weren't invited anyway.

  "What event? Tub racing?"

  Brows furrowed, she glanced at him. "Oh, you mean barrel racing? I'm guessing you've never been to a rodeo before…"

  "Good guess. Then barrel racing, is it?"

  "No." Her face heated and the words stuck in her throat. She had to clear it once before speaking again. "I'm competing to be rodeo queen."

  She waited for his chuckle or even a smirk. She’d gotten enough of that from her cousins. But it didn't come, only a curious sidelong glance. "That's more like a pageant, isn't it?"

  "Yes."

  She'd won the local rodeo queen title last summer. That's when her plans had really started taking shape. How many times had her cousins told her that she was only good for her appearance?