The Cowgirl Who Loved Horses, Queens of Montana Bonus Book

by Vanessa Bartal

  Chapter 1

  Cecily stood at the grave, dry-eyed and full of grief. She hadn’t known him well, but it was always a shock when someone her age died. Or she supposed it would be; this was the first time it had ever happened.

  Beside her Maggie Chapman was weeping hysterically while her sisters tried in vain to comfort her. On her other side, Mrs. Henshaw was crying with equal passion and volume. It was almost like a strange competition between the two women who had loved him most. Cecily frowned. What a terrible thought for her to have about two people who were experiencing such profound grief.

  She felt eyes on her, and she knew without looking to whom they belonged. When she lifted her head, she stared into the hollow, empty eyes of Marcus Henshaw. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t look away. She felt his grief like a physical thing. Beside him stood his girlfriend looking beautiful and perfect, even in her grief. She clutched his arm, but he made no move to touch her in return. Instead he stared unblinkingly at Cecily, as if trying to convey a message, and she knew what it was.

  He needed her. She had no idea how she knew, but she knew. They hadn’t spoken one word since the strange and passionate kiss they had shared almost two years ago, but he watched her whenever they happened to meet, which wasn’t often. As for her, she had tried to push him from her mind, but nothing worked. She dated occasionally, but none of the kisses she shared with other men equaled that one kiss she had shared with Marcus. She told herself she was too busy to care. The ranch required more and more of her time and energy these days, and she threw herself into it with relish. Anything to get away from her horrible loneliness.

  Now she did silent battle with herself as people started to filter away. She had intended to go to the graveside service and go home. But now, with Marcus still staring beseechingly across the grave at her, she felt compelled to go to the Henshaw’s house. She didn’t want to, but she had to make sure he was all right.

  Finally they were the last people at the graveside, and still he didn’t look away. His girlfriend, who had followed his parents to the car, now came back to tug his sleeve. She turned to look at Cecily and frowned in consternation before whispering something to Marcus and tugging his sleeve again. At last he turned and followed her to the car.

  As if she were released from a spell, Cecily snapped to attention. She shook her head to clear it, hopped into her truck, and drove away. She would go to the Henshaw’s for a minute, and that was it.

  But when she arrived, she couldn’t get a moment alone with Marcus. She needed only a word to reassure herself about his condition, but his girlfriend sat steadily beside him and talked to the people who approached.

  Marcus didn’t say a word. He stared at the floor with the same intensity he had stared at Cecily. She sighed and headed for the kitchen. If she had to stay, she might as well make herself useful.

  “What can I do?”

  Libby Chapman Dobbins turned to her with a sad smile. “Hello, Cecily,” she said kindly. The Chapmans were the nearest neighbors to the west. Libby and Mrs. Henshaw had always been close for some reason.

  “How is Maggie?” Cecily asked. Maggie, Libby’s younger sister, had been Mathew’s girlfriend for the past two years and his best friend for most of their lives before that.

  Libby’s eyes filled with tears. “Not well, I’m afraid.” Belatedly Cecily remembered that Libby and Marcus had dated before Libby’s husband, Dobbie, came into the picture. She wondered how serious they had been and who broke it off.

  “I’m sorry,” Cecily said. “If there’s anything I can do…” She trailed off. They both knew there was nothing she could do. While she had always been close to their other sister, Kitty, she hadn’t had much contact with any of the other family.

  “Thank you,” Libby said. “Loaning us Dante is enough. He’s been helpful with Maggie and Kitty as she tries to keep Maggie afloat.”

  Cecily nodded. Dante was her older brother and Kitty’s boyfriend. He had been staying with the Chapmans since Mathew was killed a few days ago in order to offer whatever help and support he could.

  “Here,” Libby handed her a tray of appetizers. “If you wouldn’t mind, you can pass this around and make sure everyone gets some. Times like these I think food is the only thing that can help.” She smiled sadly again and turned her back to prepare another tray of food.

  Cecily bit her lip as she stared at the tray of food. It wasn’t that she minded helping. The problem was that she looked dowdy and worn. The ranch was barely afloat, and she hadn’t bought new clothes in two years. Her black dress and patent leather shoes had seen better days. Normally she wasn’t insecure about her appearance because she stuck close to her ranch, but now she was in the home of the fabulously wealthy Henshaws, and she felt self-conscious. She straightened her spine and turned toward the living room. Certainly no one would pay attention to her clothes today of all days.

  She circulated around the room and said a polite hello to friends and neighbors. When she reached Kitty and Dante they both gave her a one armed hug and kiss on the cheek.

  “You look beautiful,” Kitty whispered. She knew how self-conscious Cecily was about her lackluster wardrobe.

  “Thanks,” Cecily mouthed. Finally when everyone else in the room was served, she swallowed her fear and made her way to the couch.

  “Would you like some food?” she asked. She was thankful her voice didn’t tremor the way she feared it might.

  “No thank you,” the girlfriend said coolly. What was her name again? Laura? No, Lacey.

  Marcus’s head snapped up, but he didn’t reach for the food.

  “Marcus, eat something,” she prompted gently.

  He nodded and distractedly reached for an appetizer. She waited to make sure he took a bite before she turned to go back to the kitchen.

  “Who is that girl?” Lacey asked, but Marcus didn’t answer.

  “Where is Maggie?” Cecily asked Libby when she returned to the kitchen.

  “Dobbie and Dad took her home,” Libby said. “It was just too much for her.”

  Cecily nodded. The three older sisters seemed to be made of steel, but Maggie was fragile. She was all rainbows and sunshine, or she had been. Cecily hoped life wouldn’t douse the roses in Maggie’s cheeks. Hers were certainly gone. She squared her shoulders once again. Today wasn’t about her or her problems.

  She made the rounds with tray after tray of food Libby handed her, and each time she made sure Marcus ate. She didn’t have to prompt him to do so anymore. He seemed to be watching for her. With every pass she made, the girlfriend became more uncomfortable.

  “Who are you?” she blurted at last.

  “I’m just a neighbor,” Cecily said. “I live across the way. Mathew and I were the same age.”

  The girlfriend nodded, somewhat appeased. Probably calculating the age difference and chalking me up as a harmless bystander, Cecily thought. Well, that’s as good an assumption as any I could come up with. She had yet to assign a name to the strange chemistry that now existed between her and Marcus.

  Guests started to filter away. Mr. and Mrs. Henshaw retried to their bedroom upstairs. Libby remained to clean up the kitchen, and Cecily stayed to help her.

  “What a sad day,” Libby said.

  “It is,” Cecily agreed. “For both of your families. I know Maggie and Mathew were set to be married.”

  Libby nodded. Not many people knew of the engagement, but Kitty and Cecily were close. There were few secrets between them.

  “Libby, why don’t you go home to your husband? I can finish up here. You look all done in.”

  “Thanks, Cecily. I think I will.” She surprised Cecily by hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek. “Take care.”

  “You, too,” Cecily said.

  When Libby left, Cecily returned her attention to the dishes. Lacey the Girlfriend’s voice carried through from the living room, alerting Cecily to her continued presence. Was she staying all n
ight? If so, how would Cecily ever get a moment alone with Marcus to make sure he was all right? The dishes were done at last and she could find no more reason to stay. She determined to forget her mission and leave. It was a crazy notion anyway; Marcus wasn’t hers to check on. He had Lacey, and she had done an admirable job of standing by him all day.

  As she reached for her purse she heard what she had been waiting for.

  “Goodbye, Marcus. I’ll call you tomorrow.” There was the sound of a breezy kiss, and then the front door closed.

  Cecily exited the kitchen. His back was to her, still sitting in the same position on the couch. She wondered if he had moved all day. She walked to him slowly and felt a wave of pain as she noted the sad slump of his shoulders. Marcus was one of those men who always knew what he was doing. He was supremely confident. To see him bent and broken was too much to bear.

  He looked up as she approached and stood in front of him, and then he reached for her. Drawing her forward he pressed his head to her stomach and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. And then he cried, great, heaving sobs she knew he hadn’t released since learning of his brother’s death.

  At first she remained standing in front of him, smoothing her hand down his head over and over. She didn’t talk; she just held him and let him cry. After a while when it was clear there was no end in sight to his grief, she sat beside him on the couch, all without breaking contact with him. He remained firmly attached to her, shaking her body as his heaved with sobs.

  He held her so tightly she had trouble breathing, but she didn’t complain or try to move away. For whatever reason she had been elected to provide him comfort. She had no right to balk at the opportunity. He needed her, and she would help him.

  Eventually his weeping subsided into soft crying, and then he was quiet. She chanced looking down at his face and found he was asleep. She smiled. He looked peaceful in sleep, like a sweet little boy. She eased out of his embrace, noting as she did that her dress was soaked with his tears. He didn’t stir. She wondered when he had last slept. She peeled off his boots, tucked his feet up on the couch, and covered him with a blanket. She kissed him softly on the forehead and walked to the edge of the room to retrieve her keys. She paused in the entryway and looked back. As she did she had the strange sense that her life had just changed forever.