The Cowboy and the Princess (5 page)

Not that any of that mattered. She wouldn’t be here long enough for that to happen. She had a prince waiting for her somewhere. By this time next year she would be married to him and in his bed.

Owen let his breath out in a whoosh, shook his head and moved farther away from the house. He wished the summer would end soon. Andreus owed him more than the man would ever know.

It was a debt he would never claim. Once this summer was over, it would probably be a good idea to break ties with his friend.

Andreus was a busy man.

And so am I, Owen thought. Tons of jobs to do around here. He intended to throw himself into work. No more stroking the new cook.

Delfyne looked at the massive four-poster bed where she had just finished changing the sheets. The bed was constructed from some sort of rustic golden wood, and it was Owen’s. Lydia had said so while Delfyne was trailing her about, asking her to show her how to do all the hundreds of things that Lydia did every day.

She smoothed her palms over the green-and-blue quilt. It was the color of Montana, Lydia had said. Delfyne smiled. Lydia was always saying things like that, giving Delfyne a running commentary about this place and the people she so clearly loved. Except for Owen. She didn’t say much about Owen.

“He’s private,” Lydia had told Delfyne. “He’s a good man, but he’s a hard man and he wouldn’t like it if I talked about him, so I don’t.” Her words were clearly a warning, especially since Delfyne had been asking nonstop questions about anything and everything, especially Owen.

“I have to run out for a while, dear,” Lydia said. “One morning a week, I deliver meals to shut-ins. Will you be all right here by yourself?”

“Oh yes, I have tons of things to do,” Delfyne said, even though that wasn’t really true. There was no sense in making Lydia feel bad for doing the things she needed to do or to make her feel that Delfyne was dependent on her for company and guidance, even though she was.

“You go. I have plans,” Delfyne said, whirling from the bed. Her bracelets rattled as she moved, and Lydia frowned.

“When we make bread this afternoon, you’ll have to take those off. You’ll get them caught on the mixer and hurt yourself. They’re not real practical for a ranch.”

“I know, but I love them. I’m a sucker for inexpensive trinkets,” she said, holding up her wrist with the silver, pink and lilac hearts dangling down. “I’ve been collecting them for a long time.” Princesses didn’t wear cheap jewelry in public. It was a total shame, in Delfyne’s eyes.

“Go before I change my mind,” she ordered Lydia, using the tone and words Lydia often used with her and ending on a laugh that made the older woman smile.

“Where on earth did Owen find a delightful fairy woman like you? You’re nothing at all like the women he usually hangs around with,” Lydia said, which made Delfyne’s eyebrows rise.

“You’re right. Forget I said that. Owen’s taste is none of my concern, and I know that you’re not one of his women. Both of you have told me already, you’re the sister of an old college friend and you’re from the east. But, sweetie, much as I adore you already, you clearly have never done manual labor, so don’t try to do too much while I’m gone. And, Delfyne, don’t—”

“Light the stove,” Delfyne said before Lydia could finish. “I won’t. That stove hates me.”

“Stupid stove,” Lydia said with a laugh.

When Lydia had gone, Delfyne tried to figure out something to do. What did ordinary women do with their time in situations like this? she wondered. What would Lydia do?

Lydia would clean, of course. But then Lydia was so good at her job that there was really nothing much left in the cleaning department for Delfyne to sink her teeth into.

“Except for the guest rooms that no one is staying in.” Delfyne said the words out loud and immediately ran to get some supplies. What did she need? What did Lydia use?

A broom, a vacuum cleaner, some of those citrusy-smelling green cleaners Lydia seemed to favor. Maybe a bucket and some rags and a brush and…

Within minutes Delfyne was hard at work scrubbing bathrooms and polishing mirrors, sloshing water and swinging a broom around.

“What are you doing?” That low, deep voice caught her in midswing with her broom, and Delfyne jumped and whirled around. Dust swirled with her and she stepped in the dirt she had been trying to sweep up. She sneezed.

Owen was leaning against the door frame, regarding her with those lazy blue eyes that seemed to see the things she kept hidden inside. He was also looking at her as if…

She followed the path his gaze had taken and realized that her blouse was torn. It was a small tear, one she’d dismissed as insignificant when it had happened. Certainly not much of her skin was revealed. But Owen had noticed. Her body tightened with awareness and her breath hitched in an alarming way.

“I’m—I’m sweeping,” she said.

“I see that. But maybe I should have rephrased that question.
Why
are you sweeping?”

“I’m learning.”

“I pay Lydia to clean.”

Delfyne frowned. “Lydia didn’t tell me to do this. She isn’t trying to get out of work.”

“I didn’t say that she was. In fact, I would never accuse her of something like that, so…is it important for you to know how to sweep?”

“It’s important for me to live, really live and to see how others live. To experience things I haven’t experienced.”

“But not to damage yourself.”

“I’m not damaged.”

“You sneezed. Maybe you’re allergic to the damn dirt for all I know. Probably for all you know, too. I don’t like the feeling that we’re acting like the ugly stepsisters and treating you like Cinderella among the cinders. I’ll bet you haven’t spent much time playing in the dirt.”

She couldn’t help laughing then. He sounded so chagrined.

“Maybe I missed out on a lot being a princess. You should go. I’m only on my second room and there are a lot more to do.”

He looked around the room, which was, Delfyne was delighted to realize, sparkling, even if the bedspread was hanging a bit crooked.

“I cleaned the bathroom, too,” she pointed out. “All by myself.”

He grinned then. “You don’t say.”

“I do say.”

“For a princess you’re quite a surprise.”

She laughed again. “You know a lot of princesses?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. Andreus tells me that you’re very wealthy. You could travel in higher circles if you wanted. I know some princesses who would definitely be interested in catching your eye.”

He raised a brow and an unfamiliar sense of warmth crept up her spine and her face.

“You’re blushing, Delfyne.”

“No, I’m not. Princesses don’t.”

“All right.” He shrugged. “You’ve done a fine job here,” he said, motioning to the room.

“Thank you.”

“But I think you’ve done enough.”

Delfyne tilted her head, confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I did. I let this get out of hand. You were supposed to be having a little fun, not laboring, and I…You ripped your blouse.”

“It’s a very small tear.”

“But that’s a pretty blouse. You’re not used to this kind of thing.”

“You just said I did a good job.”

“And you did, but…I just got through talking to Alice, Ennis’s wife. She told me she spoke with Lydia when Lydia was leaving the ranch.”

“Yes. Lydia had a task to do.”

“I know that, but—”

“But what?” Delfyne wondered why Owen looked so perturbed.

He said something beneath his breath that she couldn’t make out. “Alice tells me I’m being a very bad host. She said I’ve never treated a guest so badly before.”

Delfyne’s eyes opened wide. “Why did she say that?”

“Because…she’s right, you know. You’ve been here for days, and I’ve kept you a virtual prisoner in the house.”

“You don’t have to explain. I know that I tend to stand out. All your employees look at me as if they wonder who I really am. I suppose you don’t often have totally unexplained guests who stay the whole summer.”

Owen frowned. “I don’t want you to worry about that. My employees might wonder about you, but they’d never talk about you. They’re loyal.”

“But not everyone in town would be loyal. They would ask a
lot of questions that might be tricky to answer. I know I don’t exactly look or sound as if I’m an American.”

“So…you don’t want me to take you to visit the town as Alice suggested?”

Delfyne’s heart leaped. She
did
want to go to town, but Owen was beating himself up for not having seen that. This Alice woman had criticized him and made him seem like a bad host. For some reason, that made Delfyne angry, even though the woman had been taking her side.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Delfyne lied. But she could see by the look in Owen’s eyes that he didn’t believe her.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Go where?”

“Out. Lunch. With Lydia gone, I’ll bet you haven’t eaten.”

But then she would be sitting across from him, staring into those amazing eyes and looking at that chest and those shoulders and listening to the deep timbre of his voice, which gave her shivers and made her susceptible and…she hated being susceptible. Being susceptible had resulted in too many very bad and regrettable, humiliating experiences. That just wasn’t going to happen, especially not with a man who could cause her so much heartache and regret. She so didn’t want this time in her life to be about regret or to end badly.

Despite her desire to see the sights, there was no question that going out with Owen could be dangerous. She had to protect herself from making another horrible mistake. Instantly, Delfyne went into full princess mode, standing taller, staring directly into Owen’s eyes, her chin tilted slightly. “I’m sorry. I can’t possibly oblige you by leaving now. I’m not finished here yet.”

He grinned, a strong, full grin that made her toes curl. “We’ll compromise. I’ll wait. I’ll give you time to finish this room and then we’re going.” He started to leave.

“Wait. I haven’t said yes yet.” She crossed her arms and frowned.

“Say yes.” Owen turned and stared at her dead-on, and all that masculine energy, that…edge that was such an intriguing part of him seemed to wrap around her and lay waste to every ounce of common sense and willpower she possessed.

Oh, she wanted to say yes, badly. But she clutched her broom and tilted her chin higher. “I’m not Ennis or Len,” she said.

His answering smile was slow, his amusement evident. “No question of that.” They stood silently for maybe five seconds. Not long at all, but every second seemed like forever in the presence of this man who radiated such virility. Then, just when she thought he was going to go away, just when she thought she could start breathing normally again and stop thinking about words like
virility
, he gave her a slight, terse nod of his head. “Please. Say yes, Delfyne,” he added, and she got the feeling that
please
wasn’t a word he used often or with ease. The fact that he had made the effort melted something in her that she didn’t want to melt.

“Maybe,” she said.

“Stubborn.”

Now she smiled. “I’m taking time off from having my life ordered for me.”

Immediately he turned sober. “You’re right. You’re my guest, and even if you weren’t…it’s not my place to order you around.”

He turned to leave. She had won. She also realized what he had offered and she had turned down. A chance to go out and see the town. People. Sights. The chance to appear in public as an ordinary person, not a royal.

Running after him, broom still in hand, Delfyne reached the top of the stairs. “Owen?”

He turned and looked up at her. And waited.

“I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes. I’m a little wet,” she said,
looking down at the way her blouse was plastered to her skin from cleaning the bathroom.

“I noticed.” His gaze darkened. “Wet looks good on you.”

She shivered inside but managed to maintain a cool facade. At least she hoped she did. “That’s a compliment?”

“That’s a fact. Probably one I shouldn’t have mentioned.”

But he had, she thought as he strode away, and now her heart was thudding with anticipation. She was going to town with Owen. As a regular woman, not as a princess.

She fully intended to make the most of the situation.

T
HE
woman was getting under his skin and having an unwanted effect on him. No doubt about that, Owen thought. They’d been halfway to the town of Bigsby when he’d realized he had whisked her away without so much as a word to Nicholas and Theron.

“It won’t be a problem as long as we’re not gone too long,” Delfyne had said. “I told them I needed a little privacy, so they’ve retreated to the bunkhouse for a couple of hours. We can’t go out in public with a telltale entourage.”

So…the clock was ticking, Owen realized as he ushered her into the Molly and Me restaurant in the town of Bigsby.

Immediately, heads turned and people called out greetings.

“It’s been too long since you came in, Owen,” the owner of the restaurant said. Molly was wearing her customary white blouse and black skirt. She looked severe as always, until she turned to Delfyne and smiled. “And I see you brought a guest. An elegant lady guest.” Molly turned to him expectantly.

Of course, her comments were really questions, and Owen wanted to groan. Not that he hadn’t prepared himself for the inevitable curiosity.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see dismay on Delfyne’s face. “Elegant?” she said. Owen could practically see the wheels
turning behind those pretty eyes.
I can’t let her know I’m a princess
was what Delfyne was probably thinking.

Molly looked perplexed. “I was talking about your shoes.”

Delfyne leaned back and looked down to the pretty little bits of beige on her feet. He could almost feel her dismay that she had been betrayed by a pair of shoes that he was pretty sure Delfyne thought of as plain and unrevealing. Probably a lot of other people would have thought the same thing. But Molly? She noticed things and she knew things.

“My…shoes?” Delfyne asked, and he would bet that she was stalling for time.

Molly looked at Owen with suspicion, as if he had started dating an unworthy woman or at least one who didn’t understand the English language. “Angel, this is Montana, not Antarctica. I may dress plain for work but I know my shoes. Those are Manolos. That spells elegance in my book.”

Suddenly Delfyne looked up and laughed, a trace of impishness in her expression. “I see. Yes, I got these from someone who has a lot of money to spend but not much use for exotic clothes right now.”

That elicited a smile from Molly. “Lucky you.”

“I think so. I’m Delfyne, by the way.”

“Unusual name. Pretty. Owen, I didn’t know you had a guest. In fact, I don’t remember you ever having a woman guest. You’re always hosting cattlemen and stockbrokers, and they’ve all been male.”

Great. The tone of Molly’s voice sent her message loud and clear. She thought he and Delfyne were romantically linked and she would make it her business to discover all of the details.

“Oh, I’m not the usual kind of guest,” Delfyne said suddenly. “I’ve been helping Lydia out.”

“You’re helping Lydia? Lydia, who more or less raised Owen
along with her own three kids, ran a house and worked full-time while working part-time for the Second Chance? Lydia, who has probably not taken more than one day a week off and one vacation week a year since her husband died five years ago when she started running Owen’s household full-time?”

Delfyne gave Owen a critical look. “One week a year? Owen, it’s very important to treat those who work for you with respect and empathy. One week is not possibly enough.”

Owen felt a small headache forming between his eyes. He wondered if Delfyne knew how regal she sounded and looked when she got that snooty, pretty, sexy, disapproving tilt to her head and that unbending velvet tone to her voice.

He forced a small smile. “Ladies, I’ve tried to get Lydia to take more time off. Believe me.”

“Oh. You have? That’s wonderful.” Delfyne looked as if he had just given her a gift. “In that case, please forget I lectured you. You’re a good employer.”

Molly was looking more confused than ever at the employee who had lectured her employer. “So, Delfyne, you said you’re helping Lydia? Forgive me for being nosy, but…why? And how? And how did this come about? How did Owen end up hiring you? You’re definitely not from around here.”

Uh-oh. Molly was just getting started. It wasn’t going to matter if Delfyne had royal training. She would be no match if Molly wanted answers. The woman knew how to get her way. Like it or not, he was going to have to wade into this, Owen knew.

He cleared his throat. “Regarding Lydia, let’s just say that someone brought it to my attention that it’s important to live a little. It’s probably good for Lydia to have a spare moment or two,” he said, trying to skirt an actual lie and ignoring half of Molly’s questions. He hated dishonest people.

“So…you thought Lydia needed help and you hired
Delfyne here.” Molly shook her head as she studied Delfyne head to toe.

“Oh, I’m
not
hired,” Delfyne said. “I’m just an ordinary person in need of a place to stay who wanted to experience the Second Chance and your Montana. Owen agreed to let me visit and help out a little. I think you call those working vacations, don’t you? The ones where you get to experience ranch life and also do some good? I so hope I’ll be a credit to the Second Chance. I hear that Owen has lots of guests sometimes, and Lydia has all those rooms to clean and…”

Delfyne left her sentence hanging.

Slowly, Molly nodded. “Yes, I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t want to have to handle a crowd at the ranch all by myself. It’s good of you to help Lydia. Nice to meet you, Delfyne. So…how did you hook up with Owen?”

Molly glanced down at Delfyne’s shoes again. Owen was sure Molly had a million questions about Delfyne, but the working vacation wasn’t a bad story. It was certainly more believable than the truth—that Owen had been asked to be knight errant for a princess who had been banished to Montana and the Second Chance for the summer.

“Oh, my brother knows him from college.” Delfyne gave Molly a pitiful glance. “You must think Owen is getting a very poor deal having me as a helper, don’t you? I know I don’t look very useful, and I do have my limitations. I’m quite good at cleaning things, but not so very handy with a stove yet. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, so after I spent the morning scrubbing rooms, I guess Owen thought I needed sustenance, and with Lydia out…”

Delfyne held out her hands in dismissal.

Sustenance?
Inwardly, Owen groaned, but he couldn’t let it show. It was, in his mind, unbelievable that Delfyne was spinning
this ridiculous tale and Molly was buying into it. Besides the expensive shoes and clothes, the very tilt of Delfyne’s head, her accent, the way she enunciated her words and looked around the room as if she were surveying her domain practically shouted breeding to Owen. But while the men in the room were giving Delfyne surreptitious appreciative looks and the women were studying her as if she were a new rival come to town, none of them seemed to see anything out of the ordinary other than her obvious beauty.

Except Molly still seemed to be fixating on those shoes. “Well, of course, you needed food and Owen brought you to just the right place to get a decent meal. Those shoes are just so…perfect,” she said. Owen knew how Molly’s mind worked. She was probably estimating the cost of the shoes and wondering who Delfyne had gotten them from.

“Molly, are you listening? We need food, not shoes. Just look at this woman,” Owen said suddenly. “The merest breeze will blow her over. She worked like a dog this morning. She needs feeding. Soon.”

It was perhaps unfair, but Owen knew Molly’s hot-button issues. Food ranked right at the top. Immediately she seemed to forget everything that they had been discussing, including Delfyne’s designer shoes.

“Oh, you’re right. Just look at you, you little thing,” Molly agreed, patting Delfyne’s hand. “You’re gorgeous, of course, and tall, but so slender. And there’s lots of hard work on Owen’s ranch. All those rooms. No wonder Owen decided that Lydia needs some help. Lyd’s not as young as she once was even if she won’t admit it. We all have to slow down and give the young blood a chance to do their part and she’s no different than the rest of us. Now you just wait there. I’ll get you something that will fill you up and get you through the rest of the day.”

She seated them at a table and when she had gone, Owen leaned over and, keeping his voice low, said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

The look in her eyes was incredulous. “Are you kidding? This is marvelous! Molly thinks I’m a real person.”

“You
are
a real person.”

“I know. She thinks I’m a real
regular
person.”

Owen sincerely doubted that, but Delfyne was smiling so brightly that he wasn’t about to spoil things for her.

A low, rumbling sound intruded, the clearing of a gravelly throat. “Owen, we’ve been patient. We waited our turn. Now come on and introduce us to the lady,” someone next to Owen’s elbow said. Owen turned around to see a crowd of older men he had known most of his life. Friends of his father’s and now friends of his. They were smiling and preening like a bunch of peacocks. And Owen noticed that Dave Ollington—not an older man but a young and handsome one—was part of their group. Dave wasn’t preening. He was positively salivating.

Immediately Owen shifted, blocking part of Dave’s view.

“The lady—” Owen began.

“I’m Delfyne, a visitor and house help at the ranch,” she said with a smile.

“House help?” one of the men said. “Does that mean Lydia finally has some time on her hands?”

Owen did a double take at the interest in Ben Whitcliff’s voice. Lydia was a widow. To Owen, she was practically family, but he had no idea what her social life consisted of. Did she date? Did she
want
to date?

“Oh, yes, I’m sure Lydia has time on her hands,” Delfyne was saying to Ben. “Or, at least, I intend to make sure she has some. Owen feels the same, don’t you?”

He fought to hold back his grin. He wondered if she had any
idea that most maids didn’t call their employers by their first names and treat them like old friends. Maybe she thought people in small towns who weren’t royalty operated under different rules with the hired help. Or maybe the princess beneath the maid was struggling to stay locked away.

“I’ll make sure Lydia has enough time off to do whatever she wants and needs to do,” he said.

“I’m going to work extra hard to help her with the house,” Delfyne added. “That’s going to be so much fun.”

Dave chuckled. “You are absolutely charming, Delfyne.”

She smiled at the handsome man and Owen had a ridiculous urge to dig his elbow into Dave’s stomach. Hard. “Thank you,” Delfyne said.

“You never took
Lydia
out to lunch,” Harlan Bonnet noted.

Delfyne opened her mouth and Owen just knew that she was going to declare that he would be taking Lydia out from now on. The woman certainly knew how to issue decrees.

“Delfyne’s new to town,” Owen said, trying to avoid trouble. “Now and then she’ll have to run errands for Lydia, so she needs to know where everything is,” he added. It was sort of the truth.

At that moment a waitress delivered their food, and the group began to slowly shuffle away. “So…where did you say you were from, sweet thing?” Dave asked.

Immediately, Delfyne turned. The smile was gone from her face and she looked troubled.

“Her name’s not sweet thing,” Owen warned. “And she’s under my care. Remember that. I’ll expect you to respect my—”

My what? Owen thought. What had Delfyne told Molly she was? Both a guest and an employee? It was only a small lie and yet…already this crazy situation had him lying, or at least hiding the truth. Anger sliced through him. Too much of his life had been ruined by lies and expectations that couldn’t be met.

Dave looked more than a little miffed. “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, Owen. I was being interested. Everyone knows that you’re not interested in relationships, so you don’t have anything to offer a woman, but some of us do.”

Which was a total crock. Dave had never offered a woman more than a few months of fun as far as Owen could tell, but he wasn’t going to trade relationship stories with Dave, now or ever, especially since that would only draw attention to Delfyne and start a buzz that might never die down.

He ignored Dave until the man went away. Then he and Delfyne ate their meal in silence. When they left the restaurant she asked if she could take a minute to buy shoes.

His eyes opened wide. “Shoes? You want to go shoe shopping in Bigsby?” For certain there weren’t any stores that sold designer shoes here. And if she asked for them…

“Don’t look at me that way,” she said.

“What way?”

“The way Andreus does sometimes. As if I’m about to do something foolish. I’m not. I’m not asking to do something frivolous. These shoes are obviously all wrong and not sensible enough if they attract so much attention. And I’ll be quick. I promise. I just—I
do
need shoes and I haven’t seen anything at all of the town since I’ve been here. Just fifteen minutes, please.”

Immediately, Owen felt like a jerk. She had been sent here for what was to have been the trip of a lifetime and now some clueless, grumpy rancher was begrudging her even a short trip to look for shoes she really needed. He’d been so concerned that something would happen to her and that he’d betray his friend’s trust in him that he’d been keeping her a virtual prisoner. What kind of man did that?

But he knew. He’d already been that man, just like his father before him, or so his wife had said. She’d hated the ranch and
even the town and there had been no escaping what her perceived imprisonment on the ranch had done to their relationship. Now she was gone, and he was here with his ghosts. But none of that was Delfyne’s fault or her problem.

“I’d like to let you have more freedom,” Owen began, “but—”

“You think some man like that odious one will accost me.”

He smiled. “Somehow I don’t think any of the women around here have ever called Dave odious.” But then, those women weren’t princesses with princes coming to call. Delfyne was used to more elegant, handsome, wealthy and privileged men than Dave paying attention to her.