Her stomach knotted at the thought. But she couldn’t put this off any longer. She checked her reflection in the full-length mirror one last time, squared her shoulders and started toward the kitchen, saying a silent prayer that he wouldn’t walk out on her once he met the real Chelsea.
* * *
Ethan’s kitchen repertoire wasn’t vast. In fact, it was pretty lean. But he certainly wasn’t starving. Bacon and fried eggs was his go-to breakfast. He grilled a mean steak; he could scare up a pot of chili that had garnered an honorable mention at the annual Celebration Chili Cook-off, and he was working on a top secret barbecue sauce recipe for the local pit master competition later this summer. But banana pancakes were his breakfast specialty—the secret weapon he pulled out when he was trying to make a good impression...or when he was falling in love. Actually, the only other woman he’d made them for was Molly, and she wasn’t even a big fan of pancakes. But when he’d seen the ripe banana in Juliette’s kitchen, he’d been inspired to make them for Chelsea.
He was just setting the plate with the pancakes in the oven to keep them warm until Chelsea finished getting ready when his phone rang.
The phone’s display showed the name Ben Harper, his stable hand.
“Morning, Ben. Whatcha need?”
“Hey, Ethan, sorry to bother you so early, but Lulabelle has gone into labor. Tyler is with her now. Thought you’d want to know in case you wanted to come on out before your rounds.”
Lulabelle was another one of the Triple C’s highbred ventures. They bred her with a stallion that had fathered a Thoroughbred that had won the Triple Crown a few years back. Ethan knew she was close to foaling. But did it have to be now?
He must be pretty far gone on Chelsea if he was grousing about this important business venture. He had to check his attitude. Chelsea could enjoy the banana pancakes without him. It just meant he’d have to make it up to her.
As if on cue, she entered the kitchen, clutching the coffee mug he’d brought her first thing and looking so damn good it set him back on his heels. There had been a time after he and Molly had divorced, when the pain was still fresh, that he thought he might never be able to feel this way again.
Sure, he needed time to heal, but maybe the reason it had taken so long was because he was waiting for Chelsea. Of course, he hadn’t known it at the time—who could know something like that except in hindsight? But damn, this was good and she was worth the wait.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said.
“Good morning.” Traces of her British accent were stronger than usual. She probably wasn’t fully awake yet, but he liked the sexy rasp of her voice.
She walked over to the coffeepot and poured herself another cup. With her back still turned, she said, “Ethan, I’m sorry to do this so early, but we need to talk.”
We need to talk.
The four words no man who was falling in love ever wanted to hear. Suddenly, he was glad to have a legitimate reason to put off this talk.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She turned around and her face was so clouded with emotion that she didn’t even have to answer. Whatever she was about to lay on him wasn’t good. Hell, he should’ve known better than to get carried away.
“I hate to do this,” he said. “But my stable hand just called and I have a horse in labor. I have to get out there now. Can we talk tonight?”
She nodded. Maybe he was imagining it, but he could’ve sworn she looked a little relieved. Maybe he was searching for any glimmer of hope. Maybe he was deluding himself.
“If this is moving too fast for you, we can slow it down to a comfortable pace.” He grabbed a pot holder and took the plate with the pancakes out of the oven, removed the foil and set them on the table. “Eat breakfast and let’s not rush to any rash conclusions. Let’s talk about it later, okay?”
* * *
Chelsea tried. She really did. She’d gone out there and told him that they needed to talk but he had that emergency and just like that, fate had granted her a few more hours.
As she worked in the barn she tried to figure out if this was a blessing or a torment. Choosing to look at the positive, she racked her brain for something—anything that would allow her to make the most of the reprieve.
But how?
What could she do to turn this around?
She took out her frustrations sanding a rough board that might be a source of splinters if a guest leaned up against it.
Of course, it wasn’t a given that Ethan would run. He might take it all in stride... He might even think it was sexy... Um, no. She wouldn’t want a man who thought like that.
But he probably would take his cue from her delivery. If she presented it as if the hangman was coming, he would of course see it as gloom and doom.
Oh, bloody hell. If only it were that easy. Ethan had a mind of his own and it was highly unlikely that she would be able to lead him to the emotional conclusion she wanted him to have. He would think what he thought. She needed to prepare for the worst, but hope for the best.
The tape did not represent who she was and if he was scared off that easily, he wasn’t the man for her. She had enough negativity in her life; she didn’t need someone who couldn’t stand by her when the chips were down.
Too bad her heart didn’t see it that way.
“Hey, girl!” Lucy’s bubbly voice filled the air. “You’re here early.”
Chelsea forced a smile. “I have a lot to do to make up for my absence yesterday.”
Lucy waved her away. “Are you kidding? You deserved a break, as hard as you’ve been working. Did you have fun? You and my brother certainly have been spending a lot of time together. I haven’t seen much of him, and when I have seen him he has been like a changed man. I don’t know what you’re doing to him, but keep on doing it. Um... That sounded vaguely dirty. So consider it rhetorical.”
Chelsea couldn’t help but laugh. While she had no desire to discuss Ethan’s and her sex life with Lucy—or with anyone for that matter—Lucy might be able to help her with something else.
Chelsea set down the piece of sandpaper. “I’ve been meaning to say, I appreciate how you’ve kept my secret, Lucy.”
Lucy’s right eyebrow shot up. “Certain people may find me lacking in certain areas, but one thing no one can accuse me of is betraying a friend when I have given my word about something.”
A friend.
Lucy really did consider her a friend and it touched Chelsea to the very core of her being. She had a lot of acquaintances, a lot of hangers-on—people who wanted something from her, or more aptly her brother, Thomas, who could do political favors, or her sister, who could serve as a stepping stone into the fashion industry. Chelsea, of course, could provide an introduction to both of them. She was a quick study. It only took being used a couple of times before the wall went up and the lock on the gate to her intimate circle stayed securely in place.
Lucy wanted nothing from her. Well, okay, Lucy wanted something from her. But at least she was up front about it. And Chelsea found that to be a breath of fresh air. This was a way she could contribute—a way that she could prove she was good at something. Actually, Chelsea felt as if she was the one benefiting the most because she had finally found her place.
“You are a good friend, Lucy. I need to ask your opinion on something. I need your advice.”
Lucy straightened her shoulders and leaned in toward her. “Of course. Is everything okay?”
Chelsea felt her eyes brimming and Lucy put her hand on Chelsea’s arm. “Oh, my gosh. What’s wrong? Let’s go sit down.”
They made their way over to the army trunk where Chelsea had sat with Ethan the day he’d brought her muffins. In many ways it was the day when everything had begun. Or at least one of the days. According to Ethan, everything had snapped into place
for him the moment he saw her crawling in the window. Ha! What a sight that must’ve been.
“Okay, spill it,” said Lucy. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to tell your brother the truth.”
Lucy’s expression transformed from concern to puzzled to realization. She nodded. “I see. So I guess this means things between the two of you are pretty serious?”
Chelsea shrugged. “Maybe. Yes? I think so. Lucy, he told me he hasn’t been this happy since things were good with Molly.”
She stopped at that because it didn’t feel right sharing any more intimacies. She had never been one to kiss and tell, and she knew how it felt to be betrayed by someone who did.
Lucy didn’t push her any further. She simply nodded as if she understood perfectly. And she probably did.
“I started to tell him this morning, but he got called away on an emergency with one of the horses. I did say I needed to talk to him. We are getting together tonight.” She knew she was rambling, but she needed to get it all out.
“He doesn’t even know my real name. He doesn’t know why I’m really here in Celebration. And most of all he doesn’t know about the video.”
She felt her face flame. “What’s he going to think of me when he finds out?”
Lucy drew in a deep breath and looked as if she was weighing her words. “If this relationship is turning into something serious he needs to know the truth—”
Chelsea’s phone chimed, signaling a text. Lucy’s gaze fluttered down to Chelsea’s phone. “Well, speak of the devil. That texter is my brother.” A sly smile spread across her pretty face. “Go on, pick it up. I know you want to.”
If it had been anyone else—or any other time in her life she would’ve ignored the text in favor of the conversation because it was just rude to let electronics dominate. But this was Ethan.
Bloody hell, she was in a bad way over him.
She purposely took her time picking up the phone and opening the text message so that she didn’t appear as desperate as she felt.
What she saw nearly made her drop her phone. Ethan’s text read:
Look at us. We made the paper. We’re famous.
There was a picture of Ethan and her in a lip-lock in front of the kissing booth at the Celebration Spring Fair.
Apparently, the photo had gone out over the newswire and the Dallas Morning News had run it on the front page of the entertainment section, promoting the fair as weekend fun.
If tabloid reporters were paying attention to the newswire or even if they had secured sources to be on the lookout, now they could track her to Celebration. The only thing she could do was leave before they got here and turned Ethan’s life upside down.
Chapter Twelve
The call came through minutes after she’d picked up Ethan’s text. She’d barely had a chance to show Lucy the picture he’d sent when her phone rang. The sound startled her. At first she hoped against hope that it wasn’t Ethan calling to get her reaction. But a minute later talking to Ethan seemed like a dream as she stared at the new message notification on her phone. She didn’t recognize the number, but it was an international calling code and she knew who it was even before she picked up the message.
“Are you okay?” Lucy asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“In a way I have. Actually, more of a monster than a ghost.”
“Who is it?” Lucy demanded, taking Chelsea’s phone out of her hand and looking at the screen to see for herself. “Are you going to listen?”
Reflexively, Chelsea gave a quick shake of the head, as if Lucy had suggested she jump into a viper pit. Essentially, picking up the message, hearing that creepy voice, amounted to the same thing.
Still, there was a slim chance that she was wrong—maybe it was a family member calling from a different number; she hadn’t talked to them since she’d landed Stateside. Now she’d given the press something else to write about. Even if she wasn’t well-known in the States, a well-crafted story about a British noble hiding from scandal in the US might generate some interest. Especially if the creep used the angle that she was the sister of the likely new prime minister.
She could sit there and speculate all day. The only way she would know what she was dealing with was to listen to the message. She took a deep breath and pressed the playback icon and put it on speaker so Lucy could hear.
“Lady Chelsea, you looked smashing in today’s paper.” The cockney accent made her cringe. “However, I am deeply troubled that if you were game to grant a photo that you didn’t come to me. As you know, I do feel a bit proprietary when it comes to breaking news about you. Never fear, my darling, I’m getting a good sense of where you’re hiding. Why don’t you give your good pal Bertie a ring? You know I’ll find you in a matter of days if you don’t. Looking forward to seeing you. Toodles.”
“What the hell was that?” Lucy’s eyes were so wide Chelsea was sure her friend would have nightmares.
“That monster is the reason I have to leave Celebration as soon as possible. This creep has been badgering me since university. I even changed my phone number before I left for the States, but he managed to get it. Now I’m afraid he will come here. I have no choice, Lucy. I have to leave.”
“You always have a choice,” Lucy said. “You don’t have to run away from this son of a bitch. You need to tell Ethan and he will help you, Chelsea.”
She shook her head again. “No. I can’t. If I do, I’m afraid Ethan will go after him.”
“Right,” Lucy said. “That’s the point.”
“Wrong. The point is if Ethan goes after him—even if he enlists the help of the authorities—it will draw even more attention to the original story about the tape. I can’t let that happen. I can’t embarrass Ethan that way.”
“Instead, you’re going to break his heart?” Lucy said. “That’s not much better, Chelsea.”
“I’ve already made up my mind. I can’t stay here and wait for Bertie Veal to find me and wreak havoc on the people who have so generously taken me in.”
“You could get a restraining order,” Lucy bargained. “Or what if you just sat down and reasoned with him? Isn’t it worth a try, rather than running...again? You can’t keep running, Chelsea.”
She didn’t want to keep running. She’d rather stay right here with Ethan, maybe set up a design studio and make a life for herself—with him.
She thought about Lucy’s suggestion of trying to bargain with him, but two seconds later she realized it was a bad idea.
“There is no bargaining with the devil, Lucy. You don’t know who you’re dealing with here. The guy is a parasite, a bully, a thug. He ticks just about every box that describes a sociopathic personality. He will stop at nothing to get a story that he can sell to the tabloids. He doesn’t care if he destroys lives. That’s how he makes his money. If he thinks you’re trying to protect me, he will go after you. Think about what that could do to your new business, to Juliette’s. He could ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for. Bertie Veal is the devil incarnate. My only choice is to leave before he tracks me to Celebration. I’m so sorry I can’t stay for the grand opening party, but you’re almost finished. You’re almost there. You’ve got this. I know you’re going to be a big success.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to go, but I can’t stay.”
Lucy looked crestfallen and they sat and stared at each other for a moment that seemed like an impasse—two headstrong women who were used to getting what they wanted even when no one else could see the possibilities. Only this time what they wanted was beyond their reach—at least for now.
Finally, Lucy broke the silence. “Please promise you won’t leave before you talk to Ethan.”
Chelsea’s stomach bunched and knotted. “Of course.” She did owe him th
at much.
* * *
“How can you leave before the party?” Ethan said. “You promised Lucy you’d help her get to that point.”
After Chelsea had left Lucy, she’d texted Ethan and asked him to come to Juliette’s house after he’d finished with work. She had decided it was best to meet on neutral territory rather than asking him to meet her at his house or at the barn. While she waited for him, she booked herself on the first flight out of Dallas, packed and tidied up so that the place would be shipshape for Juliette. She’d called her friend to tell her about the turn of events and that Lucy had agreed to care for Franklin until Juliette returned. In similar fashion to Lucy, Juliette had tried to reason with her to stay—she suggested she tell Ethan and see if he could help get this guy off her back.
“You know, Chels, as long as you keep running, this guy will keep stalking you. You need to do something about it. If your folks won’t help you, I can put you in touch with people who can.”
“And it will get ugly before it gets better. I just can’t put my family—and you and Ethan and Lucy—through any more crap.”
“You know I love your family, but I’m disappointed in them for throwing you to the wolves.”
“They might argue that I led the wolves to the door. Look, you know I love you. You’re my best friend. Actually, you’re family. I appreciate all that you’ve done—how you’ve let me disrupt your life hiding out here—but I have to handle this my way. It’s time for me to go.”
A knock sounded at the front door and Chelsea’s heart leaped into her throat before it plummeted. “Ethan’s here. I’m telling him everything. I need to go.”
“Chels, call me later?”
“I will.” With that, she disconnected the call and steeled herself to do the right thing.
Within the short span of five minutes, Chelsea saw Ethan’s mood go from hopeful to flummoxed to prickly.
“I told Lucy from the start I might not be able to stay,” Chelsea said when she tried to explain why she had to leave. “She knows it’s time for me to go and she understands. I wish you would.”
The Cowboy's Runaway Bride Page 15