The Cowboy and the Princess (26 page)

What was she to do? If she kept silent and protected Rosalind, she would have to marry Teddy and move to Dubinstein.

On the other hand, if she came clean, told the truth, held a press conference, revealed everything, she could have Brady and Texas, but that would mean exposing her mother and rocking the House of Farrington to its core.

Annie had a big decision ahead of her and she had no idea which path she was going to choose.

W
hen Brady saw that the caller ID said Monesta, his heart stopped.

Annie.

Or rather Princess Annabella.

He told himself to be calm. To be cool. To show no emotion, but he practically vaulted over the couch to snatch the cordless receiver off the dock. Orchid, who was in her playpen gnawing on a stuffed animal, looked up at him wide-eyed. Once Mary Jameson learned Annie was out of the picture and that Mariah and Prissy and Ila and Lissette had all offered babysitting services and freely agreed to a background check, she’d given him custody of his daughter.

“Hello,” he said breathlessly.

“Hello,” said a crisp feminine voice on the other end of the line. “Is this Mr. Brady Talmadge?”

It was probably Annabella’s appointment secretary or executive assistant or whatever royalty called the people who made their phone calls for them. Disappointment winnowed down into his gut. “Yes.”

“You don’t know me,” the caller said. “But my name is Rosalind Coste.”

“Annie’s old nursemaid?”

“She told you about me?” Rosalind sounded surprised, but proud.

“She did. She said you were the one who really raised her.”

“I’m more than that, Mr. Talmadge.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am Annabella’s biological mother.”

It took a minute for that to sink in as Rosalind began telling him a tale of how she was Annie’s birth mother and had given her away to Queen Evangeline and King Phillip.

“That’s some story, Ms. Coste,” he said, when she’d fallen silent. “But why did you call to tell me all this?”

“I broke the news to Annabella. I know she’s having trouble processing it—”

“And you thought I could talk to her?”

“No, that’s not it at all.” Rosalind sounded irritated at his interruption. “I told her who she really was so that she would be free to step down, step away, and not marry Prince Theodore. I told her so she would end her engagement. So she could go back to you.”

“But she’s not doing that, is she?”

“It’s not because she doesn’t want to be with you. She has cried herself to sleep every night since she returned from Texas.”

“It’s her choice.”

“That’s just it, Mr. Talmadge. I don’t think it is her choice. I think she feels she has to protect me. If she goes public with the information I just gave you, I will lose everything. My pension, my home, my country. She’s sacrificing herself for me.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Do you love her, Mr. Talmadge?”

Brady did not hesitate. “More than life itself.”

Rosalind let out her breath. “We cannot allow her to marry Prince Theodore. The wedding is tomorrow evening. Time is of the essence.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Rosalind cleared her throat and told him her plan.

A
thousand guests jammed the cathedral pews. Twenty thousand more gathered in the pavilion outside the church and spread out through the town. Reporters were everywhere. Security was at the utmost. Organ music played a wedding march written by a Dubinstein composer. The cloying smell of too many flowers filled the air. Multitudinous candles adorned the altar.

This was it. Annabella’s wedding day.

It should have been a fairy tale. A dream come true.

It was not.

She looked over at the man that for twenty-five years she had believed to be her father. He smiled at her in a grandfatherly fashion. She knew he cared about her. Of that she had no doubt. He might not love her as thoroughly as her real father would have loved her, or as much as he loved his real child, but he did love her in his way. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. Nor did she want to hurt Rosalind or bring shame on the House of Farrington. So she would do what had to be done. She would walk down that aisle and seal herself to the Prince of Dubinstein. She would do her duty. Honor her family. Save Rosalind. Keep the secret.

Brady might not approve, but it’s what she had to do.

Brady.

Her throat tightened and she fought back the tears that threatened to mist her eyes. It was as it should be. He had his life, she had hers. They had had a wonderful time together. He had taught her a lot, but he was just a memory now. It was time to let go.

“Are you ready?” her father asked.

She nodded.

King Phillip held out his hand. She gave him her arm. He tucked her close to his body.

As the music swelled, the doors swung open and they stepped into the chapel.

The massive church was packed, standing room only as more people tried to cram inside. Cameras flashed. Silence fell over the congregation. Everything felt extremely solemn.

At the end of the long aisle, Prince Theodore stood waiting. Silver sprinkled his dark hair, or what he had left of it. His round face smiled. He wasn’t a bad man. She would make the best of this.

The heavy perfume of her rose and orchid bouquet overwhelmed her. Orchids. She took a deep breath, thought of a baby far away. She glanced around for Rosalind, but did not see her. She wished she had Lady Astor with her, but the royal pooch was in her bedroom, lazy with pregnancy.

The walk up the aisle seemed an eternity. Heads turned. Murmured voices followed them.

“Such a beautiful bride.”

“Too bad her mother didn’t live to see this day.”

“I hate that she’s moving to Dubinstein.”

“Prince Theodore is a lucky man.”

Annabella forced a smile for her subjects, even though inside she felt so out of place. She knew now why she’d never belonged. She had never been royalty. It was not in her blood. But she’d decided to go along with the pretense, because after all, what choice did she have? She could not sacrifice Rosalind’s future for her own happiness.

Rosalind.

Her real mother.

Again, she glanced around the chapel. Where
was
Rosalind? The last time Annabella had seen her was over an hour ago when she’d helped Annabella get dressed. She had to be here somewhere.

Annabella and the king reached the front. He passed her hand to Prince Theodore’s.

Teddy caught her gaze. His eyes were reassuring. She could do this. She would do this.

The minister raised a hand and started the blessing.

Annabella’s hand trembled. She could stop this. Stop it right now. All she had to do was tell the truth. She could have Brady and Orchid and Texas, but that meant hurting so many people in pursuit of her own happiness. She and Brady had already broken up, already passed through the eye of the hurricane. No point going back. Not at the expense of so many others.

“We are gathered here today,” the minister said, “to join Princess Annabella and Prince Theodore in holy matrimony.”

“Stop!” A loud masculine voice shouted from the back of the room. “Stop the ceremony right now!”

Annabella spun around, heart thumping. She could not believe what she was seeing. A man in a gray Stetson, Wrangler jeans, and cowboy boots. Swaggering like John Wayne at a shootout. A complete standout among all the pomp and circumstance.

It was Brady! Stalking determinedly toward the altar. He had come for her!

But why? And how? She told him there was no chance they could be together. No hope at all.

She had no idea how he’d gotten past security, but here he was.

The minister glared at him. “And who are you, sir?”

“I’m the cowboy who loves her,” Brady said. He shifted his gaze, caught Annie’s eyes. “I can’t allow you to make the biggest mistake of our lives.”

“You cannot.” She stared at him beseechingly, willing him to understand. “Rosalind—”

“Who do you think called me? She’s outside right now. On the steps of the cathedral. Giving an interview to the press.”

“No,” Annie whispered.

“She’s telling her secret. She wants the truth to come out.”

Annie swung her gaze to King Phillip who was sitting in the front row pew with Birgit and Prince Henry. His real family, his real heir. His face was pale, but when his eyes met hers, he nodded. Was he giving her his permission?

“Annie.” Brady held out his hand. “It’s okay to tell the truth. Who do you want to be with? Where do you want to be?”

“You,” she whispered. “I want to be with you and Orchid. I want to be in Texas with our friends. And Lady Astor wants to be with Trampas. She’s pregnant, you know.”

“Then come with me.” Brady reached out for her hand.

She was on a roller coaster. A wild adventure she never dared dream could be hers. She turned to the bridegroom. “I am sorry, Teddy, but I am not the woman for you.”

Teddy stood there stunned, openmouthed, not fully grasping what was happening.

Bravely, Annie tossed her bouquet to the ground, stepped up to the microphone at the pulpit, and faced the crowd. Brady clung to her hand, squeezing tightly. Her lifeline. Infusing her with strength. She could do anything as long as he was beside her.

“I,” she announced, in a wavy voice filled with a million emotions, “am not a true princess.”

Then all hell broke loose.

Epilogue

You might be a princess if . . . you live happily ever after.

T
he media dubbed it the Royal Wedding That Wasn’t. Annie’s confession hit Twitter and Facebook and YouTube and in under a minute, it went viral, crashing servers around the globe, and forever cementing tiny Monesta in the top ten royal scandals of the last one hundred years.

Even though Annie and Brady wanted to immediately take off for Texas, it wasn’t that easy. There were pieces to be picked up, loose ends to tie, legal issues to address, and relationships to mend.

It turned out King Phillip was actually relieved to have the secret out in the open. He confirmed Rosalind’s story, adding his point of view and that of Queen Evangeline. He told Annie how much he loved her, and it filled her heart with joy to hear him say it. They talked for hours, something they had never done before.

“You are always welcome here,” he said, “and I will always consider you my daughter, but I understand that it is time for you to discover who you really are. If you have any lingering questions, you can call me anytime.”

“What about Rosalind?” Annie asked. “She violated her contract. Will she be ostracized from Monesta?”

“I could never cast out your real mother,” he said. “Consider the contract null and void.”

They parted on the most amicable of terms, both relieved and joyful that they were able to forgive and forget.

Once Annie had received the king’s blessing, it was time to smooth things over with Teddy. At first he was miffed, but that turned out to be only because he believed she’d made him out to be a fool. Dubinstein was in an uproar over the whole thing, and that put him in a petulant mood. But once he learned that Brady was a horse whisperer, his ears perked up. “Could he come to Dubinstein? I have an ailing polo horse that’s dear to my heart.”

So Brady went to Dubinstein with Teddy to heal his horse while Annie stayed behind in Monesta to run the gauntlet first with media interviews and then with the royal lawyers. Brady wanted to stay by her side during the ordeal, but she wanted to spare him the nitty-gritty so she asked him to act as an ambassador of sorts, smoothing over Dubinstein’s hurt feelings.

Between the lawyers and King Phillip, it was agreed that she could keep her monthly stipend from Queen Evangeline, even as they officially stripped her of her title. It was all right. Annie did not feel wounded by legal machinations. She understood. She wasn’t a princess and she was proud of it.

Even though she was allowed to stay in Monesta, Rosalind accepted Annie’s offer to move to Texas. Annie and Rosalind would have plenty of time to get to know each other as mother and daughter.

Brady did such a swift and thorough job of rehabilitating Teddy’s horse that Teddy made him the royal horse whisperer of Dubinstein. Annie and Brady were welcome in both Dubinstein and Monesta any time they chose to visit.

But neither one of them could wait to get back to Jubilee.

The minute Annie set foot on Texas soil she knew she was home. The Jubilee Cutters Co-op threw a big welcome home party that lasted far into the night.

Brady and Annie were married a month later at Mariah’s cowboy chapel on Green Ridge Ranch. All the usual suspects were there. Joe and Mariah and Jonah. Ila and Cordy. Prissy and Paul. Lissette and Kyle. And Rosalind.

They tied the ring to Trampas’s collar and he served as ring bearer. The bride wore cowboy boots and so did the groom. When the nuptials were over, they rode off on Pickles to the Dempsey ranch that Brady had bought. It was going to be their new home.

Rosalind looked after Orchid for a few days at the cabin while Annie and Brady honeymooned, sealing their love with lots of long, lingering kisses.

“So,” Brady said, as he undressed his bride, sliding the white wedding gown off her shoulders. “Are there any lingering secrets we need to reveal?”

“None here,” she said. “How about you?”

“What you see is what you get. Plain and simple.”

“Cowboy,” she said, leaning up to kiss him on the end of his nose. “No matter how much you like to pretend otherwise, there is nothing plain or simple about you.”

He tightened his arms around her. “I can’t believe how much time I spent running from this.”

“What?”

“Commitment. Roots.”

“I’m glad you did. Just think what would have happened if you’d settled down before you met me.”

“You’d be the Princess of Dubinstein right now.”

“You rescued me again, Brady Talmadge. You have a thing for damsels in distress.”

“On the contrary, Mrs. Talmadge, you rescued me. Without you, without Orchid, I’d still be a lonely old cuss pulling my home behind me telling myself I was happy in my isolation. You showed me the world, Annie. You gave me a reason for being.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “So about those five unbreakable rules . . .”

“They’ve all been shattered to bits.”

“I was thinking we needed new unbreakable rules.”

“Rules for what?”

“A long and happy marriage.”

He reached for the zipper on her dress. She held her hair off her shoulders. “I’m up for it. What do you have in mind?”

“Rule number five.
Never go to bed angry.
”

“I’m in.”

“You get to make up rule number four,” she said. “This marriage is a democracy, not a monarchy.”

“How about
No secrets
.”

“That works for me.” She slipped her arms around him.

“You get to make up rule number three.” He nibbled her neck.

“
Never stop dreaming
.”

“Gotcha,” Brady reached up to finger the dream catcher earring nestled in her earlobe.

“Your turn.” She ran a hand down his back, tracing the crisscross of scars there.

“
Let go of the past
,” he said firmly. “Forgive and forget.”

“That just leaves rule number one.”

They looked each other in the eyes. Brady kissed her tenderly. “What are your thoughts on rule number one?”

“That’s easy.
Never, ever stop loving each other
.”

“Princess Buttercup,” he said. “I never, ever will.”

Then he scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed and they made love, soft, slow, and sweet until they both knew through the very marrow of their souls that this union was their true destiny.

And they lived happily ever after.