Instead they’d spent their time running errands. They’d gone by the bank to cash a check. They’d dropped in at the hardware store—she still wasn’t sure why, since they hadn’t purchased anything—then stopped by the saddle-makers, where Sterling had been informed the bridle he’d ordered had been delivered to the house several weeks ago. Next, they’d driven to Crane to look at a Black Angus bull, then made their way to the feed brokers.
And though everyone at all those places had been pleased to see Sterling, they’d also seemed surprised at his presence. Susan hated to jump to conclusions, but she had the distinct impression that most, if not all, of their stops this morning had been spur-of-the-moment. As opposed to say...planned.
Not that she was complaining. At least they were together. And Sterling did seem to be trying. Though she’d hardly characterize him as chatty, the past few hours had been informative. She now knew he drank his coffee black, liked to drive fast and had a surprising weakness for jazz. She’d learned that he’d worked most of his life, starting with odd jobs in grade school, and that for all his success he didn’t seem to care a whole lot about money. She knew he preferred to read history and other nonfiction, that he was a huge Dallas Cowboys fan and that he’d never wanted to live anywhere but West Texas.
Unfortunately she’d also found that every time they began to grow at ease with each other, he promptly withdrew. She couldn’t imagine why, but it was almost as if he didn’t want to like her.
She, on the other hand, clearly liked him too much. Despite her vow to act like a grown-up, such simple things as the brush of his hand or the way he drawled certain words continued to make her heart beat faster.
She couldn’t seem to quell her awareness of him, either. Glancing over now, she found herself admiring the clean line of his profile, the muscular shape of his arms, the no-nonsense grip of his hands on the steering wheel. And remembering what it had been like on their wedding day when she’d been wrapped in those arms, touched by those hands and claimed by those warm, firm, masculine lips—
“That air conditioner too cold for you?”
She jumped, jarred out of her reverie. Meeting Sterling’s gaze, she prayed he hadn’t caught her staring again. “What? No. Not at all.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
He glanced over at her, his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. He shrugged one broad shoulder. “You’ve got goose bumps.”
“Oh.” She glanced down. Sure enough, her arms had a light sprinkling of raised flesh. But that wasn’t what brought the rush of heat to her cheeks. That was prompted by the sight of her tightly beaded nipples poking blatantly at the fabric of her shirt. And her guilty knowledge that the cause didn’t have a thing to do with the air-conditioning. “You’re right. Maybe it is a little chilly in here,” she said, hastily crossing her arms.
“So why didn’t you say so?” Lips tight, he reached out and adjusted the main vent, flipping it away from her and pointing it straight at him. He turned the fan to high.
Wondering what his problem was—she, after all, was the one who’d just embarrassed herself—she faced forward and gazed out the windshield, feigning absorption in the scenery. “Where are we going now?”
“I need to drop by one of my ranches. I promised the man who runs it for me I’d drop off a computer inventory program he wants to try.”
“Oh.”
They passed a dusty grove of poplar trees and he turned onto a narrow dirt driveway. Squinting against the sun as the truck rattled over a cattle guard, she could see a small, tidy ranch house up ahead, flanked by a windmill, barn, several sheds and a maze of animal pens. Although the operation was modest, it looked prosperous and was as neat as a pin.
“This will only take a minute.” Sterling slowed the truck and turned into a graveled parking area behind the house. “Then we’ll go get some lunch.”
“Okay.”
Across the yard, the screen door on the house flew open and a little girl emerged. To Susan’s amazement, the child leaped off the porch and came tearing toward them, waving her arms exuberantly. “Mr. Church! Hey, Mr. Church!”
Biting off a curse, Sterling swerved away from the small figure and hit the brakes. Slamming the transmission into Park, he rolled down the electric window as the pickup rocked to a halt and stuck his head out. “Clarissa Jane! What in Sam Hill are you trying to do? Get yourself run over?”
“Gee, Mr. Church,” the child scoffed cheerfully, clambering onto the running board and hooking one small, tanned arm around the side mirror for security. “You’d never run over me. You’re way too good a driver.” Her heart-shaped face angelic, she beamed adoringly at him.
To Susan’s amazement, it had the desired effect. Although she couldn’t see all of Sterling’s face, she could hear the softening in his voice as he said, “I am, huh?”
“Yep.” The little girl, who looked to be seven or eight, nodded enthusiastically, then craned her neck to stare at Susan with blatant curiosity. “Who’s that?”
He hesitated only the barest instant. “That’s my wife.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He turned. “Susan, this is Clarissa Moran,” he explained. “Her dad, Frank, runs the ranch.”
Susan smiled at the child. “Hello, Clarissa.”
The little girl smiled back. “Hi. You can call me Clarry. Everybody does, except when they’re mad at me.” She made a comical face, then shifted her gaze back to Sterling.
“Your mom and dad around?” he inquired.
“Yep. Only Mama’s taking a nap ’cuz she was up all night with the baby, and Daddy went to check on the cattle out by Arroyo Basin.”
“Ah. Well, you think you could run a package into the house for me?”
“Sure. But first—” her eyes gleamed with suppressed anticipation “—you gotta come out to the barn.”
“And why do I have to do that?”
The little girl’s air of excitement grew. “’Cuz there’s something I want to show you. You’re gonna be sooo surprised.” Wriggling with ill-suppressed glee, she glanced at Susan and added generously, “She can come, too.”
“Hmm.” He studied her elfin face for a moment, then he, too, glanced at Susan. “That okay with you?”
She smiled. “It’s fine.” At this point, wild horses couldn’t have kept her away from that barn and the chance to observe Sterling with his unexpected friend.
“Okay then.”
Without further ado, he released his seat belt and reached for the door handle. Susan followed suit. Walking around the front of the truck, she had to struggle to keep the surprise off her face as Clarry claimed Sterling’s hand. Clasping it in her own, the child led the way across the hot, hard-packed ground toward the barn, chatting about recent events on the ranch with every step while Sterling steadfastly avoided Susan’s gaze.
They entered the cavernous structure through a side door. Susan blinked for a moment as she waited for her eyes to adjust, then walked after the other two as they made for the far corner.
“Look, Mr. Church!” the child exclaimed, sinking down on her knees next to a shaggy black-and-white dog lying on a bed of straw. “Lucy had babies! Aren’t they cool?”
“They sure are, honey,” Sterling said, as a dozen fuzzy-faced puppies lurched unsteadily to their feet and crowded around him and the child. There was a husky note in his voice that Susan had never heard before.
“They’re all spoken for, ‘cuz everybody knows what a good dog Lucy is. Except for this one.” Clarry scooped up a big-eyed pup with a black tail and black ears, and a mask of brown across its eyes. “She’s the smartest and the cutest,” she explained, “and I wouldn’t let anybody take her.” Climbing to her feet, she nuzzled her face against the soft little creature’s, then straightened and solemnly thrust the puppy into Sterling’s arms. “That’s ’cuz I want you to have her, Mr. Church.”
Unable to hide his surprise, Sterling clutched the squirming puppy
, automatically cradling it in the crook of his arm. “You do?”
“Uh-huh. It’s a present,” Clarry confided happily. “From me to you. ’Cuz you gave Daddy your ranch to take care of when nobody else would and now we don’t have to live with icky old Aunt Elizabeth anymore.”
Sterling glanced down at the pup, then back at the child, and cleared his throat. “Gee, that’s awful sweet of you, honey. And you’re right about this little girl. She’s pretty special.”
The child’s smile was radiant. “I knew you’d like her.”
“I do.” As if unable to help himself, he stroked his thumb over the puppy’s bumpy spine, rewarded as the little creature snuggled closer, staring up at him with big, soft eyes. Yet when he finally glanced at Clarry, his face was sober. “And I really appreciate you wanting to give her to me. But the thing is—” regret seemed to weigh at his shoulders “—I can’t take her.”
Clarry’s face fell. “Why not?”
“Because, honey, puppies need a lot of attention. Right now, I’m pretty busy, and it wouldn’t be fair to take her just to stick her away in a kennel somewhere.”
“But I want you to have her!”
He sighed. “I know, honey, but—”
“I could take care of her,” Susan said quietly.
Instantly two sets of eyes turned to stare at her.
“Really?” Clarry was as easy to read as a large print book, going from crestfallen to hopeful in a split second.
Sterling’s reaction was tougher to gauge. “You don’t have to do that.”
Susan bit her lip. There wasn’t so much as a hint in his silvery-gray eyes that she’d done the right thing and she wondered if she’d totally misread him. “It’s up to you, of course,” she said, backpedaling madly. “I mean, I think it would be nice to have a dog, but I don’t have any experience raising one. And I couldn’t do it for another few weeks, not until they find a replacement for me at work...”
“But that’s perfect!” Clarry declared. “The puppies aren’t ready to leave Lucy yet anyway.”
Sterling’s gaze remained locked on Susan. “It’d be a lot of work. Are you sure?”
She glanced at the puppy resting against him, contentedly chewing on one of his shirt buttons while he absently stroked it with his fingertips, and all of a sudden she had her answer. “Yes,” she said firmly. “Yes, I am.” He might not be willing to admit it, but he needed that puppy. She just knew it.
He was silent another moment. Finally, however, he nodded. “Okay. I guess that means we’ve got us a dog.”
Clarry whooped with happiness. “All right! Thanks, Mrs. Church!”
But it was Sterling’s reaction that went straight to Susan’s heart. He hesitated, then slowly offered the puppy to her. “Yeah. Thanks.”
She smiled, her hands brushing his as she gathered the warm little bundle against her. “You’re welcome.”
For a second his expression didn’t change. Then, almost reluctantly, he smiled back.
“You sure this is all right?” Sterling said gruffly, holding the door for Susan and motioning her to precede him into the Royal Diner.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “It’s fine. One of my co-workers comes here all the time. She swears they have the best cheeseburgers in town.”
“Huh,” he said neutrally, wondering why she had to be so nice.
She smiled. “Besides, I don’t think I could have walked a step farther.”
He looked down at the buckskin cowboy boots gracing her feet and frowned. “Look, if those boots are hurting you, we can take them back—”
“They feel great, Sterling. Honest. I was referring to my stomach. The truth is, I’m starved, so it’s a good thing this place is as close to the bootery as it is.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” He told himself there was no reason to feel guilty. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d planned this. He’d merely wanted to get her some decent footwear after she’d nearly stepped on a nail in her flimsy tennis shoes out at Moran’s. It was sheer coincidence that the boot shop happened to be kitty-corner from this particular café, the very one where Princess Anna was working.
Yet as long as he was here, he felt he had an obligation to check things out. The fact that it provided a welcome distraction from Susan was just icing on the cake.
The door swung shut behind him. He took a look around, confirming his first impression that the diner was simply your basic small-town café. A long counter with padded stools fronted the kitchen, a double row of tables occupied the center of the room and booths lined the rest of the walls. There was a revolving pie case next to the cash register and a lighted jukebox in one corner.
By far the best looking thing in the room was the elegant blonde serving pie to a couple of cowboys at the counter. She glanced over, doing a quick double take when she saw him. She was quick to recover, however, and promptly sent him a reserved smile. “Hello. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll be with you shortly.”
“Thanks.” He looked at Susan. “You care where we sit?”
“No. You go ahead and choose. I think I’ll make a trip to the ladies’ room.”
Damned if his luck wasn’t changing. He hadn’t expected any time alone, but he wasn’t complaining. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you in a minute.”
He watched her walk away, his mouth twisting caustically as he realized that, improving luck or not, the seductive sway the boots added to her gait was having a predictable effect on his body.
Impatient with himself—he really had to get a grip—he wheeled and walked briskly to an empty booth along the least occupied section of wall in the diner. Yanking off his Stetson, he tossed it onto the seat, then sat down on the padded vinyl and concentrated on composing himself.
His “waitress” arrived a few minutes later. Handing him a pair of menus embossed with the logo The Royal Diner—Food Fit For A King!, she indicated the mug upside down on a paper coaster. “Coffee?”
“Please.” He turned the cup upright, waiting until she leaned closer to add in an undertone, “It’s nice to see you, Princess.”
“And you, Mr. Churchill.”
“Everything okay?”
“I’m doing very well, thank you.”
“And Will?” In their short time together, Sterling had developed a real fondness for the princess’s quiet young son.
“William is fine, too.” She filled his cup, the heavy pot wobbling slightly in her hand. “This week he rather thinks he would like to become a Texas Ranger.”
Sterling couldn’t help it, he smiled. “That’s good. Is there anything you two need? Anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable?”
“We’re fine, really. Gregory has seen to everything.” Not for the first time, he wondered at the undertone he could hear in her voice whenever she said Greg’s name. Yet there was no time to dwell on it as she leaned closer and said, “Have you, perhaps, had any word about my precious little Edward and Miranda?”
He shook his head. “It’s still too soon, Princess. Like we discussed, getting your niece and nephew out of Asterland is going to take considerably more time than your own liberation did. But don’t worry—they’ll be fine. Blake Hunt knows what he’s doing.”
“Of course,” she said with a sudden touch of formality. “I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t trust him. He is Gregory’s brother, after all.”
“That’s right, he is.” For her sake, Sterling was careful not to let his own reservations show. While he’d trust Greg with his life—and had—Blake was another matter. Oh, there was no question about the younger Hunt brother’s integrity or his ability to handle himself. But taking care of two small babies was a horse of a different color. Not that Sterling had any intention of telling the princess that. He was damned if he’d add to her worry. Besides, it appeared they were out of time. Looking over, he saw Susan making her way across the room toward them. Careful to keep his movements casual, he sat back and reached for his cup. “Thanks for
the coffee, miss,” he said politely, taking a sip.
The princess was a quick study. Taking his cue, she took a step back and graciously inclined her head. “You’re welcome.” She waited as Susan arrived and got seated, then inquired, “Would you care for some coffee?”
“No, thank you.”
“Very well. I’m afraid my shift is over, but someone will be back in a few minutes to take your order.” With a regal nod, she departed.
A faint frown marring her brow, Susan glanced after her.
“Something the matter?” Sterling asked.
She shifted her gaze, regarding him thoughtfully. “No. It’s just, I thought—Is she a friend of yours?”
He tensed. Although his gut told him she could be trusted, the princess’s secret was not his to share. He opened his mouth to say no, only to pause as he recalled her perceptiveness about Mrs. McKisky. “An acquaintance,” he improvised. “She used to live in Midland. Why?”
Looking down, she smoothed her hand over the menu, answering with a question of her own. “Remember that first day, at my house, when you asked if I had someone I cared about?”
“Vaguely.”
She looked up, her brown eyes suddenly troubled. “It just occurred to me that perhaps I should have asked you the same thing.”
It took a second for her meaning to penetrate. When it did, he couldn’t decide what was more troubling: the pang of gratification he felt that she cared how he felt, the immediate impulse he had to assure her there was nobody else—or the realization that she’d just innocently handed him the perfect way to regain some distance.
Because the more time he had to think about it, the more he realized she was right. In order to raise a child together, they did need to achieve a certain degree of camaraderie. What’s more, there was too much at stake to risk screwing it up by rushing things.
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