Cowboy Fairytales Omnibus

by Lacy Williams

  "You don't think Cindy and Christy would return and untangle you?" she asked. She didn't look at him this time, kept her chin turned slightly, maybe trying to hide her scars?

  "Maybe not if the crown princess left me here."

  Her hands shook slightly as she untucked the fabric and then swept against his ribcage as she unwound him.

  It tickled, and he jumped.

  She jerked back, looking up at him with her face coloring again.

  "Ticklish," he admitted.

  Something shifted in her eyes, and he thought maybe she'd taken his admission as a challenge.

  "Don't even think about it," he warned. Although…what exactly could he do to stop her if she did? His arms were still trapped against his sides and his legs were hog-tied. If he tried to move his feet, he was likely to end up on the floor on his rear.

  She hesitated, then continued to unwind the fabric. This time she kept her head down and didn't speak.

  What exactly had he expected? For her to descend into a tickle war with him when there were no cameras to witness it? That's something a woman who was interested in a man might do, but the princess hadn't indicated any interest in him. Other than the couple of times he'd thought he caught a flash of attraction in her eyes. Up until now, she’d seemed more suspicious of him than anything.

  And anyway, whatever hint of attract he might have seen in her eyes was irrelevant. He wasn't exactly prince material.

  But as she ducked out the door and disappeared down the hallway, he couldn't help the stab of disappointment that she'd chosen to return to the icy tundra princess instead of playing with him.

  5

  Pregnant.

  Mia stared down at the twin pink lines on the home pregnancy test before squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

  She couldn't stop shaking. Her heart was flying, sending adrenaline and nerves through her.

  What she'd thought was a virus hadn't gone away after twenty-four hours or even forty-eight.

  On the third morning, huddled over the toilet bowl, trying to be quiet so Ethan wouldn't hear, she’d begun to suspect. She hadn't wanted him to be worried.

  Now what was she going to tell him?

  They'd been careful. She'd been especially careful because she knew how much of his teenage years and early adulthood Ethan had given up to care for his younger stepbrothers.

  He'd even commented once, when they'd been cuddled up late at night talking, that it felt like a weight off his back not to be responsible for his stepbrothers.

  What would he say when she told him? She couldn't imagine he would want the responsibility of raising a child now, not when he'd just won his freedom, thanks to a judge and his stepbrothers' own irresponsibility.

  He'd been looking forward to attending university courses. Would he think he had to give that up because of the baby?

  Tears burned her eyes.

  She sensed he'd been suspicious when she'd ducked out of going to the university visit him the other day. She'd been too afraid to kiss him goodbye, afraid he'd smell the truth on her breath, even after she'd brushed her teeth.

  Beneath her worry, there was the tiniest kernel of joy. She'd longed for someone to love her, really love her, and God had blessed her with Ethan. And now they could have a family of their own.

  She just wished she could be sure of her husband's reaction.

  If he didn't want the baby, she'd be devastated. She hadn't known how much it would matter to her, how much she could love something so tiny she couldn’t even feel movement yet.

  But she did love the tiny being growing inside her.

  And she desperately wanted Ethan to as well.

  Eloise stood in the last curve of the stone stairway that led to the sea. From here, she had an unhindered view of a stretch of beach and high cliff walls, but with evening falling, it would be difficult for someone near the water to see her tucked in against the wall.

  She anchored herself with one palm against the cool, rough stone, breathing hard as if she'd run down here.

  She hadn't. She'd dawdled, walking as slowly as she could get away with.

  She'd known what she had to do even before Jill had caught her just after supper with another push for using the bull rider to help their publicity. The media specialist had already spoken to the council about dropping the charges against Cody and they had seemed amenable to it, though nothing had been finalized yet.

  Eloise had finally considered the suggestion after leaving the laundry room, breathless and unsure of herself. The cowboy—Cody—had made her forget herself, even if just for a few moments.

  It had been years—before the accident, at the very least—since someone had treated her like a regular girl. No one on staff dared do anything that might remotely offend her. They were all afraid of being fired.

  She'd thought she preferred it that way, keeping everyone at a distance, but this afternoon, she'd felt a lightness and freedom that had been foreign to her for two decades.

  And then he'd challenged her. His words had been a teasing warning, almost an invitation, to get into a tickle fight with him. Though it wouldn’t have been much of a fight, not with him all wrapped up like that.

  Had he really wanted that? Wanted to spend time with her? Maybe she'd been imagining the light in his eyes. Which she very well could've been. She couldn't figure out why he might be attracted to her. She was ugly. And all she'd done was act cruelly toward him. Except for today.

  Was it possible that their playtime with Christy had spawned his attraction?

  And even if he was attracted to her, she knew it was only a matter of time before she lost her temper again, and whatever he might feel for her evaporated. If it had even been there in the first place, and wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

  She couldn't afford to allow her heart to get involved. To have any expectation that he might like her or feel friendship for her. She had her people, her kingdom to think about.

  She needed the bull rider's help, but she would have to be careful to maintain a distance between them. She'd managed to craft walls between herself and everyone else for all these years. She knew how to do it.

  So why was her heart beating so frantically against her breastbone? Her palms were sweating, and she felt as if she couldn't catch her breath. And she hadn't even faced him yet, though she watched him standing at the water's edge.

  She was attracted to him in a way she hadn't ever felt before.

  It was frightening, because she knew there was not—couldn't be—any hope. Not as scarred as she was, inside and out.

  She forced her feet to carry her forward before she could chicken out. This was for her people. For her Father, even if he wouldn't appreciate the sacrifice she was making.

  The sand was soft and warm beneath her feet, and the wind off the bay blew her hair into her face. She pushed it back with one hand as she approached the bull rider.

  He didn't seem surprised when she joined him at the water's edge, only turned his head and graced her with a nod. Fine lines fanned from the corners of his eyes. Was he stressed? Missing his family, the uncle she'd had sent away?

  How did she even begin? She'd learned early at her father's knee that the diplomatic way required one to make conversation before asking for a favor. She could converse with princes, diplomats, and politicians, but her nerves threatened to overwhelm her for a mere man.

  "Are you finding your accommodations to your liking?" she asked finally. Then wanted to slap her own forehead for the idiocy. She curled her hands into fists at her sides instead.

  "Everything's fine," he said. "The staff has been taking good care of me." He rolled his shoulders, the movement in her peripheral vision making her notice the muscles of his upper arms. "I just get a little stir-crazy, being inside all day."

  Should she apologize for keeping him here? She hadn’t forced him to take the blame, but she could have forgiven the old man’s attempted theft. If only her temper hadn’t gotten the best of her.


  She couldn’t quite do it. “My assistant is working to get the charges against you dismissed.”

  This time his face turned entirely toward her. His raised eyebrows showed his surprise. “That’s… great. Thank you.”

  “It may still take some time. Things with the council move slowly.”

  He nodded, searching her face. It was deeply uncomfortable for her and she stared at the water and focused on simply breathing.

  Perhaps he sensed her discomfort, because he went back to watching the waves.

  And she still procrastinated, holding back the true question she’d come out here to ask.

  "What's a normal day like for you? Back home?" she asked. "Do you have property of your own? Like Gideon?"

  "Not me. In between rodeos, I bunk down at Uncle EJ's place, try to help out with his small herd. On the circuit, it's a lot of travel. You travel much?"

  She was surprised when he turned the question on her, though maybe she shouldn't have been. "No."

  A warm wave came farther up the shore, brushing her toes with foam.

  He tilted his head toward her. "Your sisters travel some, though."

  It was a statement, but she heard the question behind it. Why didn't she?

  Her hair blew against her cheek. She used one finger to pull it down when it caught in her lashes, but she let it remain against her cheek, hiding the scars.

  "I prefer to be out of the public eye as much as possible," she said. "And my sisters have helped me by taking over duties for international events."

  She felt his gaze on her face but refused to look at him. She couldn't help the hot flush that spread into her cheeks or that it would make the pale scars stand out, but maybe with the wind blowing her hair into her face, he wouldn't be able to see them well.

  "If you don't like to be in the public eye, how come you had a camera crew following you around today?"

  "It's complicated," she said after too long a pause.

  He didn't press for more, but silence lengthened between them until she spoke again.

  "My father is not well." Just saying the words aloud threatened to close her throat. "And if he... When he...passes…" She gulped a breath, trying to stem the tide of her tears. "Running the kingdom will fall to me. I don't know if you've seen any local press, but...they have not been kind to me. My father wants me to present a kinder, friendlier image to the public. And my media specialist came up with this idea to allow cameras into the palace. Sort of a behind-the-scenes thing."

  His question opened the door for her to ask what she needed to ask. She drew in a deep breath.

  Cody had developed a raging headache in the early afternoon, and it hadn't abated.

  The fading sun's glare off the water had him squinting against the pain.

  It was frustrating, because it was a reminder of his injury. All his doubts had boiled to the surface. Would he heal enough to go back on the circuit? If he didn't, what was he going to do next? He wouldn't risk his life to get on a bull again, but he also didn't have anything to fall back on.

  All the doubts had driven him out of the castle.

  And now, apparently Eloise had sought him out. To tell him she was trying to get him off the hook for the attempted theft. Or for some other reason?

  He'd heard whispers about the king's health, but hearing Eloise admit that things were dire had his compassion for her rising.

  And that vulnerability that she only seemed to show him. She didn't like to look directly at him, hid behind her hair.

  She had more to say. He sensed it, but she’d hesitated. He knew enough to be patient.

  "Would you...?" She breathed in deeply. "There's an event tomorrow at the children's hospital, and I was wondering if you'd accompany me. Sort of... act as my buffer." She breathed in as if gathering courage, then went on quickly. "Jill said she'd seen you'd done some similar events as part of your charity work with the rodeo association…"

  Pain lanced his head. Stupid concussion couldn’t let him relax for a minute today.

  She must've seen his wince, because she quickly backpedaled. "If you don't wish to, it isn't required or anything."

  He turned to face her. Behind her, the blue sky and surf extended to the horizon.

  "I don't mind," he said with a shrug. "It's not like I have anything else to do." It would be a chance to see more of the kingdom, which he'd wanted to do. "And if, by chance, I still have to face a trial, it’ll probably look good that I tried to help the kingdom, right?"

  It was her turn to wince slightly and he felt a little guilty for the teasing. "I never meant for it to get as far as the royal council."

  No doubt. In his boredom yesterday, he’d picked up a newspaper and seen how the press skewered her. Reading that had removed most of his residual anger about being detained. Today, hearing that she was going to bat for him and seeing that she sincerely regretted what had happened swept the last vestiges away.

  "I really don't mind." And he meant it. He was attracted to the princess, maybe more than he should be considering she'd be ruling the kingdom soon. He wouldn't mind spending time with her.

  "Thank you." She still didn't look directly at him, still the wind blow her hair across her face. He itched to tuck her hair behind her ear, get a good look at her, but he couldn't help remembering her sensitivity when he'd touched her elbow to help shield her from the photographer on that very first day.

  "What kind of event is it?" he asked, imagining having to pull out the rented tuxedo again. "Some fancy dinner?"

  "It's an on-site visit to the children's hospital. The crown has an annual fundraiser, and recently there's been a wing of the Glorvaird hospital dedicated to my father."

  He nodded. "Doesn't sound so bad."

  But she frowned. "Perhaps." Then she forced a small smile. "I suppose you're anxious to get back to the States and your rodeos."

  And that was the rub, wasn't it?

  "I'm not in a rush." He started walking again, sand sticking to his feet. He was relieved when she rejoined him, though he couldn't say exactly why. "About six weeks ago, I was in a pretty bad wreck off the back of a bull, and I haven't been medically cleared to get back on yet."

  "You were injured?"

  He nodded slowly. "Nasty concussion. Doctors were afraid there was some bleeding on my brain."

  He saw the twist of her lips. "And you do this willingly?"

  He shrugged. "I didn't have many prospects coming out of high school. I'd rodeoed off and on as a kid. And I was good at it. But now..."

  "You'll retire?"

  He wasn't ready to think about that. "It depends on what the docs say when I get back. Rodeo is a young man's game, but I'm not done yet." At least he hoped so.

  Something buzzed, and she pulled a slim, silver phone from her pocket. Sighed softly. "I must return to the palace. I still have work to do tonight."

  He settled in next to her. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must be to run an entire kingdom.

  Her face turned to the castle, her expression almost wistful as she gazed at the massive building built into the cliff walls.

  "Thanks for walking with me," he said. "It was nice to have the company."

  Her eyes slid to meet his gaze, surprise evident in their depths. Did no one tell the princess they enjoyed being around her? Had her temper alienated her from everyone? Or did the staff just remain distant out of necessity?

  It must make for a lonely existence, especially with her father fading away. Who did the princess confide in? Share her secrets with?

  "I'll probably be out here tomorrow," he said, "if you want to join me again." Maybe it was presumptuous to ask, but he did it anyway.

  Her glance skipped away at his words, color leeching into her face. "Good evening," was her soft spoken response.

  "Good night."

  6

  Eloise thought she was prepared for the crush of reporters and flashing cameras, but her heart was flying against her ribs, and she couldn't breathe. And she was
still inside the limousine.

  She couldn't let them see weakness. Nor could she let her father down.

  And above the nerves, she was acutely aware of Cody's knee pressing into hers. After greeting her good morning, he'd been mostly silent through the car ride through Glorvaird's quaint downtown to the newly constructed hospital.

  She'd glanced his way once to see him avidly taking in the buildings with their sconces and decorative sandstone. Jill had spent much of the ride telling him interesting tidbits about certain shops that had been in operation for generations, about their nation’s growing wine trade, and about how things had changed just in Eloise's lifetime.

  How long had it been since Eloise had gone out into the city on her own? Enjoyed the people and the uniqueness of Glorvaird?

  She’d never done it. As a child, she’d always been accompanied by her nanny and scores of security personnel. And since the accident, she’d never dared.

  It was another thing the scars had ripped away from her. Another long-buried pang of grief.

  Now the driver rounded the car, and Eloise had no more time for her worries. Jill clambered out of the front passenger seat and stood next to the rear door as the driver opened it for Eloise.

  She gulped in a breath. Stay calm. Breathe. Smile.

  But she was having trouble doing all of those things as the door opened in front of her. All she wanted to do was shrink into the leather upholstery and demand to be returned to the castle.

  The cowboy shifted behind her, reminding her that she had to get out. She had to do this for the kingdom.

  And maybe, to some degree, for herself.

  Her knees shook as she planted her feet on the pavement outside the car and straightened to her full height. Her lips trembled when she tried to stretch them into a smile, so she did what she always did and firmed them into a straight line, nodding regally at the press. Jill had told her that only a couple of trusted reporters would be allowed inside to document the tour.

  Eloise could ignore the shouted questions of the rest of them. She took a few steps away from the limo and stood beside Jill.