The Cowboy And The Debutante

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The Cowboy And The Debutante Page 6

by Stella Bagwell


  Anna didn’t want his apologies, she wanted his respect. But it looked as though she was going to have to earn that the hard way. “Forget it. I’d rather care for the horses myself than trust a cowboy to do it right.”

  She led the horse on past him, and Miguel automatically followed. Every masculine cell inside him wanted to take the pail of water from her hand and carry it for her. But from her remark he could only believe she would resent his help.

  Angry at himself, and at her, but not really sure why, he blurted out, “You shouldn’t be out here working this late.” Hell, she shouldn’t have been here at all, Miguel thought. Not with that goose egg on her forehead.

  “I’m fine.”

  Deciding it would be best to let it go at those two words, Miguel watched her lead the young horse into a stall and unsnap the lead rope from the colt’s halter. “Have you heard from your parents yet? How is your brother?”

  The concern in his voice caused Anna to glance at him. “My brother is going to be fine. They’ve placed his foot in a cast and he’ll be released from the hospital tomorrow.”

  Anna couldn’t help but notice Miguel was visibly relieved. The fact that he was concerned for her brother touched her. Adam was so much a part of her. Even when they were apart, which had been often these past few years, she always felt his presence with her.

  “So when are Chloe and Wyatt coming home? Tomorrow?”

  Anna filled the yearling’s water bucket, then stepped out of the stall. “No. They won’t be heading back for a while.”

  He pushed the brim of his dirty felt hat back off his forehead. “What’s happened? Adam needs them down there?”

  She let out a laugh that had nothing to do with humor. “Independent Adam? Not hardly. He’s determined to finish the job down there on crutches, so my parents have suddenly decided now would be a good time for them to travel on down to the coast and spend the next few weeks on a second honeymoon.”

  Miguel looked incredulous. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  Anna wearily pushed a tangle of red curls off her forehead and leaned her shoulder against the stall door. “This is hardly a time to be joking.”

  “But why would they do something like that now? You’re here on vacation. Looks to me as though they’d want to spend some time with you.”

  “There will be plenty of time for them to be with me once they get back. I’m sure you’ve seen for yourself that Mother rarely ever takes a vacation away from the ranch. And Daddy will thoroughly love having her all to himself.”

  Miguel’s expression of dismay didn’t alter. “Both your parents work very hard. I understand all that. But to leave you with all this to care for.” He gestured at the row of stalled horses and shook his head. “I’m going to be honest with you, this is very much out of character for them.”

  Not for anything would Anna let him know she’d been thinking the very same thing. She’d taken heart in the fact that her parents didn’t doubt her capabilities of caring for the ranch. But was she really? Could she get through the next few weeks without making a fool of herself and a mess of everything? Were her parents trying to test her for some reason?

  “I suppose they were thinking it’s a rare day when one of their children is available to take over for them. I’m here, and they asked me if I would handle seeing after the ranch. I was hardly going to disappoint them by saying no.”

  “Well that’s just dandy,” he muttered. “They leave you here with a concussion and a lump on your forehead as big as a golf ball and expect you to take care of things.”

  Frowning, Anna’s fingers lifted to her forehead. “I don’t have a concussion, and there’s hardly a lump there at all now.”

  Miguel snorted. “You look like you’re ready to fall over.”

  Before she realized what he was about to do, he snatched up both her hands and studied her palms. The soft skin just below her fingers was broken and bleeding. Not wanting him to see the damage, she tried to jerk them loose from his grip, but he tightened his hold.

  “I knew Chloe was wrong about you. Any normal cowgirl would know to wear a pair of work gloves. Now you’ve got a pair of ruined hands to go with a concussion!”

  Anna tried to glare at him, but the touch of his hands so firmly wrapped around hers was sending her senses in all sorts of wild directions. The most she could do was stare at him in bewilderment.

  “For the last time—I don’t have a concussion. And for your information, I’ve had on a pair of gloves all day. I only took them off a few minutes ago.”

  “Just as I figured. You’re so soft even a pair of gloves don’t help.”

  “What do you know about it?” Anna muttered, hating the smugness in his voice.

  “I know you look ready to fall in your tracks at any moment.”

  Her gaze made a slow, deliberate sweep of his tall muscular body. Dirt, manure and grass stained the entire front of his jeans and a good measure of his denim shirt. Dust coated the faint stubble of beard on his chin and jaws. His eyes were bloodshot from long hours in the sun. And in that one long glance, Anna felt herself melting like a cube of sugar in a cup of hot coffee. He was a man who worked hard for himself and for her parents. She greatly respected him for that.

  “You don’t exactly look ready for the hundred-yard dash yourself,” she replied.

  “I’m used to this. You’re not.”

  Anna was dead on her feet, but as she’d discovered beforehand there was something about Miguel that made her want to linger in his presence, to find out the mysteries behind his dark hazel eyes.

  Shaking her hair back over her shoulders, she leveled her gaze on his face and sighed with irritation. “I suppose you think my job doesn’t require long hours.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what it requires. But I do know you don’t come away from the piano like this.” His lips thinned to a line of disgust as he looked once again at torn flesh on her palms. “Come on. Let’s go down to the house and I’ll fix them for you.”

  Beneath the brim of the baseball cap, Anna’s brows arched with dismay. “Fix them? I have a few blisters, Miguel. I don’t need stitches!”

  Miguel would like to tell her exactly what he thought she needed, but he was too exhausted to have a round with her tonight. Besides, he seriously doubted she’d be able to make it out of bed in the morning. And once that happened he’d be in the clear to hire someone to take care of the horses.

  “These hands need to be cleaned and dressed, just the same.”

  “I can’t take a shower with bandages on my hands. And I can hardly go to bed like this!” She looked pointedly down at the front of her dirty clothes.

  “I’ll wait for you to get out of the shower.” He dropped her hands, but before Anna could breathe a sigh of relief that he was no longer touching her, he took her by the shoulder and urged her out of the stables.

  “Maybe Chloe will have some leftovers in the fridge,” he said. “I rode out of camp before Cook had supper ready.”

  “You raid my parents refrigerator often?” she asked drily.

  He switched off the lights and the two of them stepped outside. As he turned to fasten the double doors, he said, “Whenever I can catch them gone. I steal their jewels and sell them for whiskey money, too.”

  “You’re so funny.”

  He glanced at her shadowed face. The only smile he’d seen on her face had been a mocking one. He was beginning to doubt the woman knew how to really smile. “I can assure you, you’re not a bit amusing.”

  She made a disgusted sound in her throat. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to be making you laugh.”

  “What about making yourself laugh?”

  His question took her by surprise. But before she could think of any sort of response, he took her by the elbow and headed them both down the trodden path to the house.

  Once inside, Anna left him to his own company and hurried away to the shower. Miguel washed his hands in the kitchen sink and made a quick search o
f the refrigerator. Just as he expected, there was half a casserole of beef enchiladas. He put them in the microwave to heat and went about making a tossed salad.

  By the time Anna reappeared, he had the table set for two and strong coffee brewing. The wide-toothed comb she’d been dragging through her wet hair stopped in midair as her gaze went from him to the waiting supper.

  “You weren’t kidding about getting into the refrigerator,” she said.

  A wan smile touched his lips. “No. Your parents have always encouraged me to make myself at home here. And I do at times, when it’s more convenient than going up to the honeymoon house.”

  So he felt comfortable here in the ranch house. Somehow she resented that. In a little more than a year he was certain about belonging to this place. Anna had grown up here on the ranch and in this very house, yet she wasn’t at all sure she belonged here anymore. She wanted to, but so many things had changed while she’d been away. Or was it she who had changed?

  Miguel gestured toward the table. “If you want to take a seat, I’ll see to your hands before we eat.”

  Anna wanted to tell him he had a thing about authority and taking control, but she kept the opinion to herself. In his own way the man was trying to help her, and she didn’t want to appear ungrateful.

  Slipping her comb into the pocket of her robe, she took a seat at the empty end of the table and laid her palms upward on the tabletop. Miguel fetched a first aid kit from a cabinet over the refrigerator. Then taking a seat across from her, picked several items from the plastic case.

  As he poured peroxide over the wounds, Miguel wanted to curse at the sight of her marred skin, but he forced himself to bite back the choice words on his lips. The damage was already done. And for the next month he was going to have to try to get along with this woman.

  “Have you always been a stubborn girl?” he asked as he dabbed at the broken skin with a cotton ball.

  Trying not to wince, Anna said, “Not really. My brother Adam is the stubborn one. When he gets a notion in his head, there’s no changing it.”

  “Humph. If you two didn’t look so much alike I would doubt you were twins. You’re nothing like your brother.”

  “In what way?” she asked, curious that he’d made any sort of assumption about her, other than that she was a pampered rose.

  He lifted his head and looked at her. Anna once again felt undressed as his dark gaze drifted to where her blue silk robe parted at the vee between her breasts.

  “Your brother appears to be an uncomplicated guy.”

  She desperately needed to gulp in a long breath of air, but she forced herself to breathe as slowly as possible, to behave as though his gaze, his touch, did not affect her at all.

  “If that’s what you think, then you don’t know Adam. He’s had his own demons to deal with.”

  His lips twisted. “Everybody has those. At least he’s kept a sense of humor about him. He can and does laugh.”

  “I haven’t exactly seen you splitting your sides since I met you,” she remarked coolly.

  He unfastened the cap on a tube of ointment and gently smeared it over the ragged skin. “Most people aren’t up to laughing when they’ve had a splitting, clawing tigress thrown at them.”

  Pain from her hands and anger at him had Anna gritting her teeth. “You really are insufferable. It’s no wonder you live alone up there in the honeymoon house.”

  Miguel’s gaze shifted to her face. As he made a lazy search of her features, Anna felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster. She’d never met a man so commanding, so totally and utterly male.

  “I live alone because I choose to. Not because I have to.”

  His attention turned back to his task, and for long moments Anna contented herself to study the wave in his thick dark hair, the way his big hands moved so nimbly. He smelled of sweat and dust, cattle and horses and sage. The combined scents were exotic, lusty, a strong aphrodisiac to her senses.

  “Mother said you were married once,” she said before she could stop the words.

  He didn’t look up. “She was right,” he said bluntly. “I was married. Once.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d want to tell me what happened?”

  He glanced up long enough for her to see the frown on his face. “What do you mean, what happened?”

  She shrugged. “I mean why you aren’t still married.”

  He reached for a piece of gauze and gently placed it across the affected area of her hand. “I guess you could say she wanted more than I could give her.”

  He sounded bitter, and Anna wondered how long it had been since he’d gotten divorced. From the impression her mother had given her, a long time. If that was the case, his lingering sourness meant he’d either loved his wife very much or hated the very sight of her. She longed to know which, though she couldn’t understand why.

  Miguel ripped off several strips of adhesive tape and fastened the pads of gauze to both her hands. Once he was satisfied the bandages would stay in place, he put all the first aid items back into their small case, then left the table to put it away.

  Anna tentatively flexed her fingers and was relieved to find the stinging soreness wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been earlier. “This does feel much better, Miguel. Thank you.”

  Her appreciation for his nursing took him off guard. He’d grown so used to Anna’s cutting remarks he hadn’t been expecting any sort of thanks. And he suddenly realized this woman was everything but predictable.

  “You’re welcome,” he murmured, then feeling more awkward than he could ever remember, he turned his attention to putting the food on the table.

  They had both filled their plates and taken several bites before the silence in the room was broken by Anna.

  “I don’t think you told me why you came back to the ranch tonight. Wouldn’t it have been easier to have stayed at the roundup camp with the other men? Now you’ll have that long ride back in the morning.”

  He glanced up from the steaming enchilada on his plate, then quickly wished he hadn’t. The sight of Anna with her wet curls and flimsy robe was enough to turn any man’s thoughts. Yet it was not her sexiness that was touching the deepest part of him. It was her frail, battered appearance. The purple bruise against her white face. Her bandaged hands trying to maneuver the simple act of eating. She was so young and innocent in many ways. And yet there was a weariness in her eyes that said she’d lived far too much too fast.

  “I wanted to see if you’d heard news from Adam. And I...well, I wasn’t too keen about leaving the ranch so deserted.”

  “I’m here. The place wouldn’t have been totally empty. Besides, no one ever makes mischief on the Bar M. I don’t suppose anything bad has happened on this place since—” She broke off and her mouth parted as she realized what she’d been about to say.

  He studied her for a few moments, then said, “Since Belinda Waller tried to burn it down twenty odd years ago.”

  Her brows lifted with even more surprise. “You know the story?”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “I wasn’t sure if you did. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  She met his gaze head-on as though to assure him she wasn’t ashamed of how she and her twin came to be born. “Adam and I have known for years that Belinda Waller was our birth mother and Tomas Murdock was our actual father. Chloe and Wyatt never tried to keep the truth a secret from us or anyone. In fact, our parents always encouraged us to be proud of our heritage. And we are proud. At least I’m fairly certain Adam is. And I am, too.”

  His expression solemn, he studied her face. “I hear a but in there somewhere.”

  Anna found she couldn’t look at him, and she wasn’t at all sure why. She wasn’t ashamed of her mother. She simply had mixed emotions about her.

  “I guess it’s hard for me to accept that she left me and my brother on the porch of this ranch as if we were no more than a basket of laundry.”

  He let out a sigh. He didn’t want to feel anything
for this woman. She was far richer than most women could ever dream of being. Yet he could see shadows of pain behind her pale green eyes, and that bothered Miguel. He of all people knew what it was like to hurt, to be betrayed by the one you loved.

  “From what I understand she was a troubled woman on drugs at the time. She thought she was leaving you in the care of your father.”

  “Yes. She didn’t know he was already dead from a heart attack. Realistically I understand all that. I guess it’s the maternal instinct in me that cringes at the idea of giving up your own flesh and blood. And then to think she tried to burn the ranch down and nearly killed my Aunt Rose and Uncle Harlan in the process. It’s not something I want to go around repeating to just anyone. I’m surprised you knew about her.”

  “I imagine the story of Belinda and Tomas will always be repeated by the people in Lincoln County. Especially with you twins being a reminder of their affair.”

  Earlier, Anna’s stomach had been craving food, now she wasn’t sure if she could finish what was left on her plate. She forced herself to swallow several bites, then said, “Belinda kept a journal of that time in her life. Daddy has kept it all these years. When Adam and I were teenagers he let us read it in hopes that we might understand her better. But I’m not sure if I’ll ever understand what motivated her to do the things she did. I like to think it was love.”

  Miguel hadn’t expected her to speak of her family so candidly to him. Up until now, she’d seemed to resent the least little question he’d put to her. The fact that she’d opened herself up to him both pleased and bothered Miguel. He didn’t want to be tugged, willingly or not, toward this woman. Yet he could feel something inside of him going out to her, and he was helpless to stop it.

  “I can’t speak for her, but I do know your parents love all of you children very much.”

  The corners of her lips tilted upward. “We couldn’t have better parents than Chloe and Wyatt,” she agreed, then cast him a curious glance. “What about you, Miguel? Have you never had family in this area?”

  He shook his head. “My father died several years ago of a stroke. After that my mother went back to Mexico to live with her sister.”

 

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