Countess in Cowboy Boots

by Jodi O'Donnell

  With one hand, she brushed back Lacey’s hair, tugging gently so she had to lift her chin and look her mother in the eye. “But the choice of how you find it has got to be yours.”

  Was it? Lacey wondered. She, too, had been trying to control the people and events around her since her return. She had thought she was seeking her happiness, had promised herself she would. And she had, to a great degree, by pursuing her girls’ center.

  But now she realized she’d also devoted a lot of time and effort to trying to make others happy, believing she knew better than they what that was. In a way, she was not so very far from being like not her mother, but Will.

  On that thought, Lacey slid out of her chair and dropped to her knees in front of her mother to rest her head on Rachel’s lap as she hadn’t since she was a little girl.

  “Oh, Mom, I’ve been so stupid, tryin’ so hard to keep you in this house.” Tears filled her own eyes and spilled over onto her mother’s skirt. “I only wanted to make you happy.”

  “Lacey, you can’t make another person happy.” Rachel stroked her hair. “I—I did have a hard time comin’ to grips with the situation when you came back to Abysmal, and I want to say right now I’m deeply sorry for puttin’ my feelings on you like I did. You sure enough have shown me a few things about myself since you came back.”

  “I have?” Lacey mumbled. Hadn’t Will said something like that to her, too?

  “Oh, yes. You came back a whole different woman than the girl who left here. You’re so strong and sure of yourself, and with a conviction of purpose, too. I’ve had to get to know you all over again.” She lifted Lacey’s face between her hands, and looked down at her with loving eyes. “That’s why I’m so sure you’ll find a way to make your girls’ center a go no matter what. And your daddy and I’d still like to help, if you’ll let us.”

  Lacey gave her a watery smile. “Let you! Just try not to!”

  Pushing forward onto her knees, she wrapped her arms around her mother, who hugged her back with all her heart.

  “Well!” Lacey sat on her heels. “I’m sure Daddy’s wondering where his iced tea is.”

  She picked up the perspiring glass and carried it to the foyer, trying not to think about what to do regarding Will and their sham engagement. Somehow, the thought of calling it off made her feel like she had a pit in her stomach a mile deep.

  She recognized it as fear.

  No! Stopping in her tracks, Lacey gripped the baluster at the foot of the stairs with one hand. She didn’t want to feel this way any longer, afraid and uncertain and unhappy. She had promised herself when she left Nicolai that she wouldn’t—she couldn’t live that way.

  She made herself take a deep breath and concentrate. What was she afraid of? And what would make her happy? Lacey asked herself.

  The answer to the second question came to her first, as it had before in this very spot: to live her life as herself, to be accepted for herself. To be loved for herself.

  To love freely, as herself.

  And in that, it wasn’t Nicolai who controlled her. Because what held her back was her own fear of trusting, of taking a risk—and of being vulnerable. But unless she let go and took that risk, she would never know the kind of joy she needed to be happy and fully alive.

  With a clarity of thought she’d never experienced before, Lacey knew she’d pass up her chance with Will if she didn’t face those fears. With all her heart, she wanted to be free of them. Free to love again.

  It meant letting go and trusting, even in the face of fear.

  She had to do it. Because until she did, Nicolai would have won, for she would still be a victim of his abuse.

  Legs shaking, Lacey mounted the stairs to the sitting room, where her father was watching TV. He barely glanced up when she handed him the tea.

  “Would you believe the luck?” he said. “I found an old episode of Gunsmoke to watch!”

  Lacey had to laugh. She patted her father on the shoulder. “Of all the extravagant furbelows that came with this house, I think you like the satellite dish most of all.”

  “That I do,” Hank said, reaching up to grasp her hand, eyes still riveted on the screen. “I tell you, Texas hasn’t seen men the likes of Marshal Dillon in a long time, has it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she murmured, gazing down at the gentle eyes set against his strong features. “I was wondering, Daddy—could I borrow the pickup?”

  That brought his attention up. “Sure, darlin’. Any place special you’re headin’?”

  Beyond the pale and out into the wilderness, she almost answered. But she had to keep her courage up. Still, it helped to know she had the support of her father who, as with her mother, continued to let her find her way on her own. It took a rare sort of man to do that.

  And there was a certain one she hoped she was right about.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she answered. “Can’t I just be going for a drive?”

  “Once upon a time you would’ve complained there was no place to drive to in this little town,” Hank said on a chuckle, stretching out one leg so he could get into his jeans pocket for the keys.

  Funny her father should use that expression. Once upon a time. The age-old beginning to every fairy tale. It wasn’t once upon a time, though. It was now—and now was her time. But only if she seized the day.

  Her pensiveness must have shown in her lack of response.

  “Should I wait up?” Hank joked, but she saw the concern in his eyes.

  She squeezed his shoulder. “No. I’m going to be just fine.”

  With a trusting nod, he kissed the back of her hand before letting her go.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WILL LEANED BACK AGAINST the side of the galvanized stock tank, the water lapping pleasantly around his waist. The night wind blowing unhindered across the bald plain felt as hot and dry as it ever had, making the water in the stock tank that much more refreshing.

  He didn’t do this enough, he decided then and there. He must drive past this tank ten times a week, and he never stopped longer than to check and make sure the windmill that pumped the water into the tank was still working properly. He was always too busy, had too much to do, to take much more of a pause.

  Well, that was about to change.

  Starting right here, right now, he was going to cut himself more slack time and hand over even more of the regular-type duties to Lee or Yancy. In fact, Will had just about come to the conclusion that someone had clobbered his brother with a gung-ho hammer, because Lee seemed energized and revitalized by the ranch responsibilities he’d been given, even in addition to his work at the tack and feed. He’d actually started worrying that Kid Brother might be working too hard, as if trying to make up for something. Or running away from it.

  Will shook his head at the irony. Whatever the situation was, he fully intended to let Lee figure it out for himself.

  An engine sounded in the distance, and without looking around he wondered who’d follow him out here tonight. Someone with a whole lot of guts, since he’d been ornery as an old cayuse at supper. Probably Lee, who’d put the idea about the stock tank in his head this evening, of a fashion. After the third time Will had bit off a ranch hand’s head for some trivial thing that had or hadn’t happened that day, Lee had pretty much told him where he and his surly attitude could go. Seeking slightly cooler environs than suggested had been Will’s idea.

  He heard the engine kill and a door slam. Yup, it’d be just like his brother to come out under pretense of giving him an I-told-you-so just to serve up another heaping helping of his cowboy advice to the lovelorn.

  Well, Will wasn’t in the mood for it. Not that he didn’t deserve Lee’s tongue-lashing or might not get something out of his counsel. He was simply done with talking today, especially about Lacey McCoy.

/>   Thinking about her, however, he had a lot to get done yet. And it was proving frustrating.

  He scooped a handful of water and slapped it on the back of his neck. Had heaven ever made a more mystifying creature? One minute she was looking up at him like he’d just lassoed the moon for her, and the next she was all for telling him where to shove it now that he had.

  But he knew he had to take his share of the blame, that being how his inclination for thinking he knew what was best for people sometimes provoked such reactions, especially in Lacey.

  Which disturbed him. He’d told her he was done coming to her rescue, and yet today he’d given in to impulse again—dropped everything to attend her in her time of trouble. He didn’t know what it was about her that made him want to play Prince Charming, particularly when she’d forbidden anyone from taking that role. He only knew he wanted to win her trust, and his determined can-do way of proceeding had always accomplished what he’d needed to before.

  Except once.

  “Hello, Will,” came a voice behind him. Light and lilting it was, like a spoken song. And definitely not Lee’s.

  Will whipped around so fast the breeze caught his straw Stetson and took it clean off his head and into the water. He had just enough of a glimpse of Lacey’s equally startled face before he swam over to snatch the hat up in case another gust came along and he lost it for good.

  He shook the water off it before setting the hat back on his head. “’Lo, Lacey,” he said with a nonchalance that sounded as forced as a watermelon through a keyhole. “Beautiful evening,” he added just as lamely.

  “Yes,” she answered without a bit of awkwardness. “I was just thinking, what a nice night for a swim. I always favored this spot in high school, in case Lee never told you.”

  “Really?” he drawled. “I’m surprised you’d even consider coming out here for a dip when you can practically fall out your back door into your own Olympic-size pool.”

  She hooked a lock of golden hair behind her ear, eyes downcast. “Actually, I didn’t come out this time for the swimming opportunity.” She paused. “Lee told me I’d find you here.”

  “Did he now?” Will wasn’t sure whether he’d kill or kiss his brother when he saw him next, but then he guessed that would depend upon why Lacey was looking for him.

  She seemed not in the least bit of a hurry to enlighten him on the subject as she climbed the ladder on the side of the tank to the narrow platform he’d had one of the hands rig up a few years ago for occasions such as this. She wore some kind of gauzy skirt. With a gracefulness he had admired before, she slid out of her flat-heeled shoes and sat so her feet dangled in the water.

  Will turned so he faced the side of the tank, forearms propped on the platform next to her.

  “Any...particular reason you were looking for me?” he said with the slightest croak in his voice. Like a frog jumping to do her bidding.

  She concentrated on the swish of her feet through the dark water, making it swirl up against his flank in the most distracting way. “I wanted to let you know I’d talked to Jenna.”

  Will forgot about his awkwardness for the moment. “And is everything okay?”

  “It took a while to get a hold of her at the friends’ of Carla’s where she’s staying for now—it seems Carla’s boyfriend wasn’t serious about having her cousin move in. But yes, everything’s okay...for now. She’s pretty closemouthed about the situation. I figure that’s because she’s feeling a little humiliated at having to live off of strangers, and she’s not wanting to give anyone the chance to talk her out of still trying to make a go of it.”

  She stuck out her lower lip pensively, and Will thought that, with the moonlight making a halo out of her golden hair, she looked like a lonesome angel. “But I think that’s partly because she’s trying to be brave. I told her what I’d told you I would.”

  “And?”

  Now she looked not so much lonesome as disheartened. “She didn’t have much to say in reply. I don’t think she’s used to having someone say they care.” Her hands twisted together in her lap. “I—I hope I made an impression on her.”

  “I know you did, Lacey,” Will reassured her.

  “From here on out, though, it’s up to her,” she said staunchly. “I guess that’s what worries me most, though—Jenna being on her own in a strange city, with virtually no support system, to figure out what will make her happy—and not just about her notions of fairy-tale romance.”

  She shivered suddenly, as if from a chill. “I get so scared inside for her when I think about it.”

  The quiet anguish in her voice was heart-rending. “Why?” he asked gently.

  “Because I know what it’s like to feel so alone—alone without anyone to understand.”

  Will put his hand over her two as they lay clutched in her lap. “But Jenna’s not alone—she has you, even if you’re not right there with her. And you’re not alone anymore, either, Lacey. You have your parents and friends.”

  She shook her head in denial. “But for all the people around me, sometimes I feel more alone than ever. Oh, I appreciate my parents’ support, and Lee is simply...Lee. Only I wonder sometimes if there’s no one I can trust to completely understand who I am and what I need.”

  Will didn’t hesitate a second in responding. “You can trust me, Lacey.”

  She drew her hands out of his grasp with a deliberateness that shot the hurt clear through to his core. “That’s just it, Will—I don’t know whether I can. I don’t know any more about the person you are or what you’re like inside than the rest of Abysmal. You keep your thoughts and feelings protected under lock and key, practically with chains of iron.”

  He was compelled to defend himself. “I think I’ve shown I’ve got a heart inside this tin chest. What about at the dance—or how we announced our engagement?”

  “Yes, those well-orchestrated ‘scenes,’” she murmured. “You said yourself how they were staged to have a certain effect, with very little risk.”

  She had him there. “So, are you sayin’ you want me to be more like Lee, a man who’d eat his heart out over a woman in front of the whole town?” Will set his jaw. “Well, that’s Lee’s way, to wear his affections on his sleeve. It’s not mine, though. And I’ll make no apologies for that.”

  Lacey’s response was a subdued “I see” and to pull her feet out of the water as she braced her palms on the platform. She was leaving, he realized, and something in her manner clued him in that she was going without getting what she’d come out here for. From him.

  Reflexively, he reached out to detain her with his fingers around her ankle. She went stock-still, like a wild animal sensing the clear-and-present danger of a predator.

  He hated that he aroused such a reaction in her! He didn’t understand what he did to make her so wary and afraid and defensive, even given her admissions of feeling vulnerable and powerless—and her judgments of him as Iron Will Proffitt.

  “I’m not made of iron, Lacey, I can assure you of that without an iota of doubt,” he said in a low voice. “How could you not know that, the way you set me off with barely a look.”

  She looked down at him with regret. “Yes, we both certainly have a way of bringing those feelings out in each other. But you must have realized today how there’s something missing. I need more from you, Will.”

  So she’d said—she needed him to understand her completely. Well, he was trying, and getting pretty frustrated at not seeing where he was coming up short!

  This wasn’t in his experience, either. Whenever he’d come up against a problem in his life—be it the threat of the ranch going to pot under his father’s management or fighting to bring that ranch back to prosperity or helping his brother get his life on track after a busted-up love affair—Will had been able to tackle it head-on, and so had very little doubt about his ab
ility to handle whatever came his way—

  Except once. I need more than you can give me, Will Proffitt. The words had rung in his head for years, and perhaps always would. For when it came to women, Will Proffitt was as helpless as a two-day-old kitten.

  No! Not with Lacey. He couldn’t fail with Lacey.

  He stared into her yearning green eyes. She was wanting to trust him—not that he would understand, though, but that he had it in him to give her what she needed. He told himself she must believe enough already that he could give that to her, or she wouldn’t have come out here in the first place tonight. He took heart in that.

  She was right, though; it wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t be satisfied with only part of her trust, just as she wouldn’t be satisfied not trusting completely. But to win that trust he would have to give her his first—his complete trust.

  He didn’t know if he could go there. Didn’t know if he wanted to find out for sure that he couldn’t give a woman what she needed.

  Although Lacey remained frozen in his grasp, Will knew he’d better come up with something pretty quick if he didn’t want to see her walk away again, perhaps for the last time.

  It was hard to know if he should even try. He didn’t think he’d be able to take another failure. Especially not with Lacey. Because here was a woman who, almost more than love, needed to know she could trust. Somehow, he knew if he turned away from the appeal in her eyes, he’d never feel a complete man ever again in his life.

  Will cleared his throat. Then again. Finally he said, “I’m not completely ignorant of what you went through with the breakup of your marriage, Lacey. Because I was married once myself. And when the relationship went south, it was the most confidence-shaking, pride-pulverizing, wound-licking experience of my life.”

  From the look on her face, he could have knocked her over with a feather. “I had no idea, Will,” she breathed. “I mean, I suspected something had happened, but no one was talking.”