The Cowboy and the Princess (12 page)

“Delfyne,” he said gently.

“Yes?”

“If we weren’t on horseback and if you weren’t…um, nervous about riding a horse, I would cheerfully wring your neck, princess or no princess. Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

He held her gaze and the last trace of nervousness vanished from her face. “Lots,” she said with a smile. “Seriously, though, Owen, I think I’ll be okay. Let’s just go slowly.”

“There’s no question about us doing anything other than that. If you even think you’re falling, you yell. Kitty has heard worse and I’ll catch you and take you up with me.” Where she would be pressed against him. Owen prayed that she wouldn’t need to ride with him.

But a part of him hoped that she would.

D
ELFYNE
felt like an idiot for admitting her foolish fears to Owen of all people. She’d ridden horses after that fall even though she was nervous every time she was up so high off the ground. But Owen was so protective of her that she should have known her admission would make him feel guilty.

Amazingly enough, she did feel safe riding this sweet horse he had chosen for her with him by her side. And she felt something else, too. Attraction. Heat. Longing. He was so masculine, so tall in the saddle, so utterly right for this land. How could any woman not want to get close to him? How could any woman who had been kissed by him not think about wanting his hands and his mouth on her?

Delfyne lurched and Kitty shied, then relaxed back into her gentle walk.

Immediately Owen turned to her. She held up her hand. “I’m fine,” she assured him. But she had better stop letting her mind wander down forbidden paths.

“Tell me about what we’re seeing,” she urged.

He shrugged, and even that was sexy. “The Second Chance is large by Montana ranch standards, so we’re just going to hit a few places today. I’ll show you what some of the men are
doing. I have to warn you though, it’s not nearly as exciting as what you read in books or see in the movies.”

“I know, but still…show me. Tell me.”

“I will. It’s a year-round job, seven days a week. A lot of it is dirty—beyond dirty. There are smells and bad weather and uncooperative animals.”

She laughed.

“What?” he asked.

“It sounds as if you hate it, and I know that’s not true,” she said.

“It’s right for me, but most people…a few weeks of ranching would be enough for a lifetime. Cows spend a whole heck of a lot of their time eating, and there are significant parts of the year when there’s no grass available and we have to supply them with food. It’s heavy, never-ending work muscling bales of hay. In the winter the weather is sometimes dangerously cold, but the job still has to be done every day, and cutting and baling hay to maintain that supply is a major summer task. Even when there’s grass available for them in the summer and they can be turned out to pasture, we have to make sure that they don’t have access to any poisonous weeds, so we have to eliminate those.” He went on to explain briefly about keeping the equipment in good shape, calving and branding and moving cows from pasture to pasture and doing all that was involved to keep the animals healthy.

“But you do it all.”

“It’s my job, same as visiting hospitals and so on is yours,” he said.

“And you love it,” she prompted.

Owen laughed. “You sound pretty sure about that.”

“Of course. You’re here, aren’t you?”

He sobered. “I’ll always be here. That’s the way it is.” Because he had to stay. His heart was here. His child was buried here.

She obviously knew what he was talking about because she
sidled Kitty over and touched his arm, not even thinking about the horses. “I hope you’re not apologizing for being who you are.”

“Stubborn?” he asked, trying to bring a teasing tone to the conversation.

She laughed, but she didn’t contradict him.

He took her to where Nicholas was baling hay and where Theron was cleaning out an irrigation ditch. He pointed out a distant pasture where some of the men were moving cows using dirt bikes. Soon Owen was leading her past a pretty little creek with a surprisingly old and tiny house sitting next to it.

“What a lovely area for a house. Does someone live here?” she asked.

Owen dismounted and came over, helping her from her horse. She slid down his body, and for a moment they stared at each other, his hands on her as her heart slammed around inside her chest. She wanted nothing more than to lean forward and connect with him and because she wanted him so badly, this man she couldn’t have, she had to break the spell that was threatening to overtake her.
One kiss, just one kiss
, she thought.

It won’t be enough
, was her next thought.
Not nearly.

With a Herculean effort she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed back. He lowered her to the ground.

“No one has lived here for a long, long time,” he told her. “This was the original homestead. Jenny Milner came here with her husband and they had three children together. When he was gored by a bull and died, she tried to go on alone but with three children under age five it was very difficult and they were barely surviving. Then one day a young soldier who was headed west after the Civil War passed by and saw her. She was five years older than him, but he didn’t care. Three weeks later he asked to marry her despite the fact that she told him that she would never stop loving her husband. He told her that he still wanted her and
he was willing to marry her and raise her children as his own as long as they could build a new house so that her husband wouldn’t be there between them all the time. She could visit the old house as often as she liked.”

“That’s sad,” Delfyne said.

“It was part of the harsh realities of the west. Survival was very difficult. And in the end, she fell in love with him anyway. But she still came here every year and planted flowers on her husband’s grave. Her new husband put up a headstone to replace the wooden cross that was disintegrating.”

“Was that soldier one of your relatives?”

“He was the one who named the ranch. She was his second chance after losing everything in the war, and he was hers.”

“You have deep roots here,” she said. “This is your history.”

“This is my everything,” he agreed.

She knew that he didn’t lie. This ranch was like a loved one to Owen. He was married to the Second Chance, committed totally and forever. How could his wife not have realized that?

But maybe she had. Maybe Faye couldn’t stand knowing that Owen would always love the Second Chance best. And maybe she had been a fool to ask for more.

“We’d better go back,” he said. “You have an appointment.”

“Yes. I need to be there. Thank you for bringing me out here. Your ranch is beautiful, Owen, what I’ve seen of it. It must have been wonderful back in the days when people slept out under the stars. I guess they don’t do that anymore. Before I leave I would like to see more of it.”

“More?”

“Everything.”

He smiled at her. “You use that word a lot.”

“I guess I do. I want a lot out of life.”

He came closer. “You should have a lot. You should
have…everything. You constantly amaze me. Why would a woman like you want to sleep outside when you can sleep anywhere you like?”

Except with him, she reasoned. She couldn’t sleep with him.

“I’m a romantic, I guess,” she said. “It would be romantic.”

“You’d hate it,” he said with a grimace. “Have you ever slept outside?”

“No, but I’ve imagined it.”

“Imaginations lie. There are bugs. No soft mattresses, no plumbing. A lot of people can’t deal with that.”

She knew he was thinking of Faye, imagining what his mother and his wife had thought their married lives would be like and what reality had turned out to be. And she knew she couldn’t win this argument. “But I don’t lie about important things,” she said, “and I told Lydia I’d be back in time to make dinner. That’s important, so we need to get back. I’ll need time to curry the horse first.”

He helped her back on her horse and they rode home in silence.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said when she asked him to show her what to do with Kitty. “You have things to do and horses aren’t your favorite animals.”

“Kitty is my new favorite creature next to Timbelina. She was very sweet with me, not like that big dark beast my trainer insisted that I ride.”

So Owen showed her how to brush Kitty. He placed his hand over hers on the curry comb and they made circles on the horse’s coat until Delfyne didn’t think she could stand his touch anymore.

“You can go,” Owen finally told her through gritted teeth.

“You can’t run me off just because we both know this electricity arcing between us is wrong,” she said. “Tell me how to take care of Kitty, but don’t touch me. I—please.”

He stepped back as if she were a hot coal. “You’re right. I was wrong to touch you.”

Without thinking, Delfyne turned to him. “Do not make the mistake of throwing yourself in the same category as those other men, the ones I didn’t want to touch me. With you, I do. I just know I shouldn’t.”

So he showed her how to make Kitty comfortable. She did her best to follow his instructions. Sometimes, their hands would touch, and Delfyne’s breath would catch in her throat. When they finished and she handed him the curry comb, her fingertips brushed against his. Desire rushed through her, and she wanted to hide her hot face against Kitty’s coat. But that would have told him just how much she wanted him. Because it was beyond desire, she knew. Her emotions ran much deeper, and stronger, and that was something she couldn’t let him know.

So she squared her shoulders and forced a smile. “I’d better wash up and help Lydia.”

As if on cue, the phone rang. The stable phone was connected to the house line. Delfyne jumped, and the phone stopped ringing. Someone had answered it inside the house.

“Delfyne, what’s going on? Why are you so nervous?”

“Oh my goodness, Delfyne help me.” Lydia suddenly called out from the house. “I’m not even close to being ready and he’s coming. For real. I didn’t get started getting dressed, because I didn’t think it was really going to happen.”

Delfyne started toward the house at a clip. “Lydia is going on a date.”

“With who?”

“Ben Whitcliff.”

“That old coot?”

Delfyne whirled. “He’s a very nice man, and he likes Lydia. And…” She lowered her voice. “Didn’t you hear how she sounded? She likes him, too.”

“But…Lydia? She’s never even—”

“Done anything, because she was too busy taking care of this house and you.”

She continued hurrying to the house. When she reached the kitchen door she turned to look at Owen, who’d stopped a few feet back. He was staring at her and at the house as if his entire world had suddenly turned into a giant pumpkin.

“You did this,” he said softly.

“Well…not really.”

His smile was slow. “Yes, really. You put it into Ben’s head at the Hall, I’ll bet. You encouraged him.”

“Didn’t you see him that day at Molly’s? He didn’t need very much encouragement at all,” she retorted.

Suddenly Owen tipped back his head and laughed.

“Shh, Lydia will hear you,” Delfyne whispered, although if she hadn’t heard already it would be a miracle.

“I’m not laughing at Lydia, Delfyne. It’s you. All you. I’ll bet you just jumped in feetfirst and dropped blatant hints in Ben’s ear, didn’t you? You are a constant surprise.”

“Yes, well, I’ve heard that before. Too many times.”

And with that, she went inside. Owen shook his head as she went upstairs. Now he was probably thinking about her the way her family did. She needed a keeper. And he was right, in a way. This could all have gone so very wrong. Lydia could have been hurt. Lydia could still be hurt if this date didn’t work out.

Delfyne tried not to think about that. She helped Lydia choose clothing, makeup and jewelry. Then she walked her downstairs to where Ben was now waiting.

“You have a good evening, Lydia,” Delfyne said and kissed the older woman’s cheek. “I mean that. It’s a command.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right, hon?” Lydia asked.

“I’ll be perfect. I’ll be very careful and I’ll clean up your kitchen when I’m done. You just go have a good time with Ben,”
she said, eyeing the man who was looking at Lydia as if she were an apple pie and he wanted more than a slice.

Lydia was turning toward the door when Owen came downstairs. “Hello, Ben,” he said. “Lydia?” The woman who had raised him looked at him very sternly.

“Owen, you be nice to Delfyne and don’t demand too much. This is her first full meal with no help,” Lydia told him.

“I’ll relish every bite,” he promised. “But you…” he said to Ben. The man finally looked away from Lydia and raised his gaze to Owen. “Just where are you taking her?” Owen asked.

“Owen!” Lydia admonished.

“I was thinking of the Ambassador Steak House in Barton,” Ben said.

“Good choice,” Owen said with a smile. “I didn’t know you had such class.” He looked at Delfyne as if approving her choice.

Delfyne beamed. Ben and Lydia shuffled around looking as nervous as two green teenagers. “Before you go, Lydia,” Owen said, “let me put these on you.” And he pulled a slender necklace of perfect pearls from his pocket.

Lydia looked up at him, love and shock clear in her brown eyes. “Oh, Owen, no. Those were your mother’s,” she protested. “You can’t mean for me to wear them. What if I lost them? What if the string broke?”

Owen undid the clasp and placed the necklace around Lydia’s neck. “She wasn’t much of a mother, Lydia, but you were,” he said. “Always.” He kissed her cheek. “Have a good time tonight.”

Lydia blinked, clearly fighting tears, and turned to hug him hard. “You were such a good boy. Now look, you’re going to make my makeup run,” she said.

“Then you’d better go,” he said, his voice low. “And, Ben, don’t bring her home too late and don’t try any funny stuff,” he warned.

“Owen!” Lydia squealed.

“I’ll treat her with the greatest respect, son. I’ve waited a long time for this,” Ben promised.

Then they were out the door.

Delfyne stared at Owen. “You are an amazing man.”

He slowly shook his head. “I should have realized long ago that she deserved better than just this kitchen.”

“She’s happy here,” Delfyne reminded him. “She loves cooking for you, and it’s a very nice kitchen.”

Right now it felt like a very small, steamy kitchen despite its size. “I’ll have dinner ready in no time,” she promised.

“What are you making?”

“Beef stew and cake. It will be edible,” she told him.

It was, but just barely. Still, Owen told her that it was a wonderful meal and he ate every bite. The man was going to make her cry.