The Cowboy's Virgin Princess (Foxworth Stud Ranch Book 3)

by Mia Madison

  “She’s been here a few days at most. She’s had no time to get herself a boyfriend,” daddy says, looking at me with a furious question in his eyes.

  The accusing glare I’ve known for as long as I can remember where boys are concerned.

  Have I given away the farm?

  He can’t take his eyes off my dress, how my legs are bare right up to my – you know. My hands are slapped flat on the fabric because if he sees I’m not wearing underwear he’ll kill me.

  “I met your daughter months ago,” Rafe says.

  I’m impressed at how he’s holding his temper and being civil with Daddy despite how rude he’s being in Rafe’s home. He must be doing that for my sake because his body also looks like it’s set to detonate.

  “That right? Well Sir, I have to tell you that you need to find friends your own age to chase around the – house.”

  Rafe bristles hard at the insult in the words and at the way my father again looks around the cozy living area like it’s a hole something would be desperate to crawl out of.

  “That right? Well, sir, I have to tell you that I choose the friends I want and don’t check their statistics at the door. I also don’t judge them by appearances because that has a tendency to make me look like a fool in the end.”

  My father arches at that, his back goes rigid because no one ever calls him a fool. I love and respect my father but my heart tugs toward Rafe and for some reason I want to be more than just his plaything. His hand on my lower back is warm. Its weight makes me feel cared for like I never have. With his solid bulk at my side for the first time, I’m protected. I thought I had a girly crush on the older man but now it’s sinking in that there really is something more between us. I wonder whether he feels the same or whether he’s been drawn into a power battle with Daddy because of me and that’s all this is.

  “You’re coming home with me now, Modesty,” Daddy says. “Go put some appropriate clothes on.”

  A wash of terror rolls through me. I don’t want to leave. I look up at Rafe and I’m sure there must be desperation in my eyes.

  “She’s not leaving here,” he tells my father bluntly. “She’s staying here with me so I can protect her.”

  “She’s protected just fine with me and that’s the end of it,” my father says. “Modesty, get your things, now.”

  It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I always do what my Father tells me, it feels like I’ve been programmed to do that my entire life. That there will be consequences if I don’t.

  “She’s staying here under my protection,” Rafe repeats and before my father can interrupt he adds; “Where there won’t be any further failures to take care of her. She’ll be safer and, I hope, happier here with me.”

  “What in the name of Lucifer does that mean?” my father rages.

  He steps up in Rafe’s grill and the two face each other, neither backing down. My father’s proud enough to try punching Rafe and that would be a really dumb move because Rafe is solid as rock. Although perhaps Daddy hasn’t noticed that in his stubbornness.

  I can’t bear the two men in my life to be at loggerheads because of me. I really don’t want my father to find out about the naked photos on the internet. It would destroy him and possibly even his affection for me, to discover I was defiled. I can’t let him find out and if this continues Rafe is sure to let slip what I told him in the truck.

  “I’ll come with you, Daddy,” I say.

  I can sense the fight drain out of Rafe as soon as I say that. I feel like I’m betraying him and it’s horrible but I need some calm so I can explain to my father. This pissing contest is only going to throw things over the edge.

  “Modesty, are you sure you want to go back there?”

  “My daughter has made her choice,” Daddy says with a hint of triumph.

  “I said I’ll come with you now,” I say, finding the determination to tell both men how this is going to go. This is my life, I’m going to run it how I want to. “But I’m not going home with you until we’ve talked. I’ve promised to help Dallyce with her wedding and I’m not about to break that commitment after everything she’s done for me.”

  I look up at Rafe, hoping that my gaze tells him all the unspoken words I’ve left unsaid. But I find his eyes look hurt with a hint of betrayal that I’m leaving him. If he had any idea of this being a more permanent thing between us, I guess that’s ruined now.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Modesty

  My father leads me out from Rafe’s house without a word of goodbye to his brief host. It rips me right up the middle to leave him, especially like this. It’s all happened too fast. We haven't had the chance to talk, what with hungrily occupying our mouths with other activities. At the bottom of the porch steps, I look back over my shoulder but Rafe has turned his back to head to the kitchen. Like he couldn’t give a damn and it’s just another day whether I’m there or not.

  But I didn’t mistake that look of hurt in his eyes, Did I? Could I have misread what I merely hoped to see there. Signs of caring. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.

  “Dallyce’s house is this way,” I say and remove my arm from my father’s grasp.

  Not in a snitty fashion, or with any childish resentment, just a firm setting of some boundaries. Daddy looks surprised but says nothing and follows behind me toward the house not much bigger than Rafe’s. If he says anything derogatory this time, I’m going to die of the shame. Yes, they’ll say to themselves, no wonder she’s such a little princess when her own father is such an entitled jerk.

  Dallyce comes out on the porch at my approach and doesn’t notice my father at first.

  “There you are, at last,” she says with humor in her voice. “Get in here and help me with these freaking jam jars before I lose my mind. And don’t hold back on all the dish.”

  I give her some fierce-eye – letting her know we have company.

  “Oh,” she blurts, suddenly realizing I’m not alone.

  “Jam jars?” My father inquires with more than a hint of suspicion. As though Dallyce and I are a pair of girls trying to hoodwink him (his favorite phrase) and not two grown up women.

  “I told you, Daddy,” I put emphasis on the name so Dallyce picks up. “We’re preparing the décor for Dallyce’s wedding to Shea.”

  “With jam jars?”

  “Nice to meet you, Sir,” Dallyce flutters.

  Oh, she’s good. No wonder Shea dropped like a stone. She leads us back onto the house, explaining all her ideas to my father, about a vintage style wedding in the country. She’s so coquettish that Daddy is actually buying into it. Maybe his ideas of a trashy big wedding for me will be subdued when he sees the love she’s pouring into every detail of her big bash. He accepts Dallyce’s offer of coffee and looks around. Please don’t say a word.

  But he does.

  “This might make you happy, but Modesty is meant for more,” he says and I want to sink beneath the table. “Nor could she ever be satisfied with a man without prospects. A man that can’t keep her in style.”

  “Oh, Shea has prospects, don’t you darling?”

  Shea walks in behind Daddy and I feel my cheeks start to burn with the things my father is saying.

  “Daddy please, I’m really not that shallow,”

  “Hey, babe,” Dallyce says and goes straight to her man, climbing up his chest wall to kiss him.

  Shea sets her back down and pulls her under his wing so he can be introduced to the other man. The ironic half smile never leaves his face as my father shakes his hand at least. He still can’t help but give him that disdainful eye.

  “How was your day, Babe?” Dallyce asks, nothing can impact her adoration for her man or blunt her delight in being with him.

  “Good. We were a man down so a little extra work but nothing the boys couldn’t cover.”

  He eyes me with a grin and I wonder if he’s spoken to Rafe already. They are the closest thing to friends after all and Shea probably stopped by to see
why he was AWOL today.

  “Chloe got wind of the other rodeo princess being here and she wants to throw a party on Saturday,” Shea continues, watching my father closely from the corner of his eye, sizing him up man to man.

  “She’s never one to miss the chance for a fiesta,” Dallyce says. “She’s already talking about expanding the ranch with another business, as a wedding venue.”

  “That would be amazing,” I gush. I love romantic events more than anything.

  “No thanks,” Dallyce shakes her head. “I don’t feel like tying string around jam jars the rest of my life.”

  “You wouldn’t have to,” I tell her, getting excited. “You could do all kinds of different themes for different personalities. Every couple has their own style they want to feature at their ceremony.”

  “Since when did you become an expert on getting married?” Dallyce jokes, giving me a side-eye like she knows what happened last night. Perhaps I’m wearing it like an honors badge. I hope my father doesn't detect it if I am.

  “I’m not,” I say, giggling. “But I love designing and creating a look. I love crafts, I just wish I was better at drawing.”

  It reminds me I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life now that I flunked this semester, thanks to Andrew. “I can’t wait for the party.” A change of subject is called for.

  “Saturday’s two days away,” my father interrupts. “We’ll be gone by then.”

  “Gone?” Dallyce frowns.

  “I’m taking Modesty home,” he informs her.

  “But you promised to help me,” she wails, turning to me like I have a choice. That’s two friends I’ve let down in the space of half an hour.

  Seeing his bride’s disappointment, Shea steps in and says; “Modesty is being honored at the dinner as a guest here. Won’t you let her stay. You’d be more than welcome to attend.”

  I can tell my father is about to say no but Shea is not one to roll over.

  “Jock Foxworth would be pleased to meet a man of your standing,” he adds.

  Clearly he’s taken the measure of my father in the brief time he’s known him. Everyone that knows a thing about horses has heard of Jock Foxworth. He’s the sort of person my father prefers to align with.

  “Well, perhaps we could stay the weekend,” Daddy doesn’t even finish before I throw my arms around his neck.

  I’m so pleased at this reprieve, I forget I’m pissed at how he invaded my privacy and took Andrew’s side just because his family has the big bucks. Anything can happen in a weekend. And it will if I have anything to do with it.

  “I hope that cowboy that was chasing you isn’t going to be there,” Daddy says with a warning in his voice that I can’t ignore.

  I notice a glance pass between Dallyce and Shea, and strangely, she doesn’t appear to be as opposed to Rafe as she was yesterday.

  “I stopped by to check on Rafe on my way back,” Shea says. “He asked Abe, that’s the ranch foreman,” he informs my father before continuing, “he asked for a few days off. He’s gone out of town.”

  No, no, no. I can’t believe it. I get to stay the weekend and he takes off on me. Again. How can I have been so wrong about the feeling surging in my chest? How could he have made that remark about loving to lead me into believing we were becoming more? Perhaps it would be better if daddy and I went back home right now.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Rafe

  I could have set that jerk straight in no time. But I don’t need to justify myself to anyone. I won’t do it to my own father so why should I do it for hers? A man can accept me for who I am or not. I don’t care either way. It’s what I like about being with Shea and Abe, even Jessop and the other younger ranch hands. We stick together as men, we don’t hang because we’re pretty boys with fast cars and fat bank accounts. I want a woman to be the same. To accept me as I am and not try to make me different. If she doesn't love me as I am then she doesn't really love me.

  I was so certain that Modesty wanted me for me. In one night I was convinced that I finally found a girl I could stay with for keeps. Modesty and I fit together like fork and marshmallow in every way, not only the sexual. As to that, sweet Jesus, she’s a knockout when it comes to giving a man what he needs. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of her perfect little body and how eagerly it responds to my touch. Having her in my house was a dream.

  The decision to keep her with me wasn’t made consciously, it was out of my mouth before I could consider it, just something I knew was right. But then when I looked at her, listening to her father’s sideswipes about my lack of just about everything he deems important, along with me being too old for her, a ton of doubt dropped on my shoulders. She made no effort to disagree with him.

  Not about the age part because that’s irrefutable. But then hasn't she reiterated the statement about how immature I am? So maybe age in years has no bearing at all on personality. But I never pegged her for a gold-digger. Guess I had her mistaken in a lot of ways. It’s obvious to me now that I was just a crush for her. An older man to take her virginity and show her how good sex between two people can be. She never had any real desire for more than me as an exciting interlude. My mistake.

  That doesn't stop me from what I’m on my way to take care of now.

  All this I’m turning over and over in my mind through the night. It gives me something to think about during the long drive. Dawn’s just rising, my favorite time of day, when I pull into town. It’s bigger than I imagined from the way Modesty described it. Not surprising seeing all I’ve ever known is ranch life, being born on one and working on another.

  I drive past her house, big but definitely not as fancy as her father’s snobbery made it seem. I drive past her school, an ordinary college same as any other. And finally with help from my phone GPS, I find the douchebag’s house. This one is big and with a large lawn in front.

  I park across the street and wait. Like a stalker or an agent, I watch my suspect come to life. Luckily there wasn’t another Harry family listed in the area. And of course this Andrew Harry isn’t a suspect. I know what he did because Modesty told me. I found the pictures he put online of my girl and any idiot can see that her eyes are rolled up in her head like she’s drugged. It may be blurry but she wasn’t wearing the hungry look of desire I’ve personally seen in my girl’s gaze.

  Fucking internet.

  And who do you go to for redress? There’s no police force for assholes that post revenge porn. I don’t care, I prefer to take out my own justice.

  The front door opens and a man emerges. Too old to be Andrew Harry, quarterback hero. He’s also wearing a suit, so must be the man of the house heading out to the hamster wheel. Then shortly after, the mother comes out, wearing gym clothes, toting a couple of younger kids and they head off as well. Perhaps I got the wrong house.

  I managed to get Modesty to tell me the name of her town and her school and subtly got the name of the asshat that hurt her. She didn't realize it but I was storing up the information fully intending that sooner or later I’d come to wreak punishment on the asshat. I didn't plan on it being the very next day but if she’s coming back here to this boring town with her father, then it can’t be soon enough. I intend to make sure she’s safe. Always. She won’t ever have to know I took care of it.

  Finally, it’s close to eleven and my coffee can is good and empty when the lazy little bastard emerges. The smug entitlement rolls off his body like grease on the cookout pan and he saunters down the path like he owns the fucking world. I hate him with every cell of my body and the urge to crush him and grind that smug face onto the dirt is burning me up. I climb stiffly from the cab, rigid with fury that this tall lumbering idiot laid his hands on my precious little girl.

  “Andrew Harry?” I shout from across the street. I hold up my hand to halt a car coming down the street and continue around front.

  “Who wants to know?” he sneers, surprised and then turning arrogant, just like I’d expect.

 
; “A friend of someone you hurt,” I bark.

  His face falls then but he puffs himself back up, acting the tough guy. Nice try buddy, but you haven’t got a prayer.

  “Yeah, who’s that?” he snarls

  “You mean there's more than one?”

  “I don't know what you’re talking about. Get lost.”

  The douchebag is so freaking cocky and steeped in is privilege, my rage turns white hot. I don’t give him another second to lay his crap on me

  My fist connects with his jaw and he goes down in one, landing on the grass but still yelping like a little girl.

  I reach down and grab him by the collar, pulling him toward me as my elbow arches back again. He starts squealing like a stuck pig heading for the spit

  A couple of the neighbors have emerged from their houses or are twitching at the windows.

  “Just teaching him that you don’t sexually abuse girls because they refuse to give you their virginity. He needed to learn to be a man,” I shout at the nosy asses.

  That takes them aback so they stop with the action of calling the cops on their phone to reconsider. In future they’ll regard their neighborhood idiot with new eyes. A good shaming that will hurt him as permanently as he tried to humiliate Modesty. And better than another fist. I drop him back to the ground and walk away.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Modesty

  The party is beautiful. Chloe’s gone all out to make this an event, which Dallyce has told me she’s great at. There are flowers in big antique pots and little quotations about love and friendship written on thick cards. Chloe apparently loves to throw a swanky party with her father’s money. I’m grateful that she included me and thank her.

  “You’re welcome, sweetie,” she says even though she’s only a year or two older than me. “It’s nice to have some young women around – look around at all the starving man flesh.”

  I do as she says and for sure there’s a ton of great looking guys. I noticed a couple of monster trucks in the yard and even a Porsche or two, so some of these guys are loaded. I can tell my father is having a blast in this monied company. I have to hide from his efforts to hook me up with some arrogant young guy in a brand new stetson.