ROYAL'S CHILD

by Sharon Sala

  "Wait," she urged. "It's only grass and dust. It will wash … and so will she."

  Her even tone was all the quiet Royal needed. Almost instantly, he calmed. He looked at Maddie. The obstinate look on her face was proof enough he'd reacted in exactly the wrong manner. Instead of arguing with Angel, he took a deep breath and dropped to Maddie's level.

  "Sorry," he said gently, poking the end of her nose. "But you sure made a mess."

  Maddie nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry, Daddy, but I was just having fun."

  Royal hugged her then grabbed her hands, turning them palms up again.

  "If you want to help doctor Angel, you have to wash your hands first. You don't want to get germs in her sore knee, right?"

  Her eyes widened thoughtfully. "Right," she agreed, and gave Angel a nervous look, afraid the bandage would get applied without her assistance. "Wait for me," she begged. "I'll be right back."

  "I'll wait," Angel promised as Maddie ran out of the room.

  Again they were left alone. Royal ran a hand through his hair and exhaled softly.

  "Thanks again," he said quietly, reached for his hat and walked out the back door.

  The quiet slam broke the silence in which Angel was sitting.

  Down the hall, the sound of running water was evidence that Maddie was doing as she'd been told. Angel looked at the Band-Aid she was holding and set it on the table. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Finally, she was alone.

  Her knee still stung where Royal had applied the medicine. Her hands were getting sore, she supposed from gripping the filthy handle of Sonny French's whip for so long. Her ankle was throbbing, and her head was starting to hurt. But none of that was as bothersome as the unsettled feeling in her belly. She didn't know whether to start crying or throw up. Something was happening she didn't want—hadn't planned. She'd taken this job for a number of reasons, none of which included a physical attraction to the boss. But it was happening just the same.

  She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, God, don't let this happen."

  The sound of running footsteps warned that Maddie was on her way. She lifted her head and fought for composure.

  "I'm ready!" Maddie announced, showing her clean hands as proof.

  "Looks good to me," Angel said, and handed the little girl the bandage.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  Tommy Boy Watson had taken a liking to Texas, so much so that after he'd done the deed in Abilene, he'd moved toward the outskirts of Amarillo. Yesterday he'd stopped at a café to eat some lunch and overheard the two men in the booth behind him talking about a sweet little waitress named Darcy at the Little Horn Café. He'd listened absently until he'd heard them mention that twenty bucks would put her in a willing mood. At that point he stopped chewing. One added that he'd heard for fifty dollars, she could send a man to the moon.

  Low laughter followed a couple of suggestive comments as Tommy Boy resumed chewing his food. He swallowed, washed it down with the last of his sweet iced tea and reached for his check. He had a sudden urge to see if this Darcy really was on the menu at the Little Horn Café. If she was, he figured it was time to do a little editing.

  He tossed some money on the table and dug his keys out of his pocket. He strolled out of the café, picking his teeth and jingling his keys. He liked making plans. But he liked following through on them even more.

  * * *

  The Justice homestead had been in the family for over a hundred and fifty years. The original house, built by Royal's grandfather, had been little more than a bedroom with a cooking shed attached. When he married, they'd added two rooms downstairs and two up to accommodate his growing family. By the time Royal's father, Micah Justice, had taken over the running of the Justice ranch, the only thing left of the original building was the massive stone fireplace and the eight-foot hand-hewn log that was the mantel.

  Angel knew the story. Royal had related it proudly after dinner one night. She listened with interest as he went through the generations, watching the pride on his face as he looked at Maddie, knowing she would be the link to keeping the Justice family alive.

  Today, as Angel ran a lemon-scented dust cloth along the mantel, she was thinking of her history. Of the family she'd lost and the family she longed to have.

  She moved to the tables, then the windowsills, applying polish and rubbing it in, savoring the rich sheen that came out in the wood and taking pride in her work. Some would look down upon work such as this. But to Angel, anything she got paid to do was worth doing well.

  A week had passed since the wreck. Her knee had healed. Her heart had settled into its normal place. She'd chalked her emotional reaction to her employer as nothing more than the heat of the moment. She'd been slightly afraid of the cattle. Royal had come and taken the fear out of her hands. Gratitude. That's all it was. She'd been grateful, not attracted.

  Having settled that firmly in her mind, she'd managed to stay in the background of Royal's world for the rest of the week. She cooked. She cleaned. She did everything a housekeeper should do except become a part of the family. As much as she enjoyed Maddie's company, she had an innate resistance to letting anyone get too close. In her entire life, the only person she'd ever loved without reservation was her mother. And she'd died, leaving Angel to the whims of a drunken father and a welfare system that didn't work. Angel had grown up the hard way, and in doing so had grown up hard.

  Her appearance was attractive. Dark hair, dark eyes and the warm complexion of a sun worshiper. Some might even call her beautiful. Her behavior, while obstinate and willful, was never cruel. But she kept her feelings close to her heart where they would be safe. She'd learned the hard way that if she didn't give love away, then there could be no chance of rejection. And yet she'd agreed to stay with a child who believed she'd been sent from God.

  It wasn't as if she really loved them, Angel told herself. They were good to her. It was easy to be good to them. It didn't have to mean anything.

  She gave her cleaning rag another dose of lemon oil polish and knelt beside the massive dining room table to clean the legs. As she was working, she heard the back door slam and the familiar sound of Maddie's footsteps running through the house. She grinned. Maddie never walked when she could run.

  "Angel! Angel! Where are you?" Maddie called.

  "In the dining room," Angel called, and rocked back on her heels as Maddie burst into the room. She barely had time to register the fact that Royal was right behind her before Maddie thrust a handful of wildflowers toward Angel's face.

  "These are for you!" Maddie said.

  Angel looked at the wad of squeezed and broken stems in the little girl's fist, then at her face, then at the man behind her before looking at the flowers.

  "Oh, my," she said softly, and reached for the wilting bouquet, inhaling the scent of crushed grass and sweet blossoms as Maddie thrust them in her hand.

  "Do you like them?" Maddie asked, then before Angel could answer, she began pointing and talking. "These blue ones are my favorites. They're bluebonnets. Did you know that's a Texas flower? And these are Indian blankies."

  "Blankets," Royal corrected.

  Maddie nodded without missing a beat. "Yeah, blankets. My daddy likes them best. They're not really blankets, you know. They're just flowers. I don't know why someone gave them that name. I think they look like clown flowers 'cause they're red and yellow like Ronald McDonald and he's a clown and—"

  "Damn, Maddie, give it a rest," Royal growled, then tugged at her ponytail to take the sting from his words.

  Maddie giggled, but she stopped talking, which was what Royal had intended.

  Angel lifted the flowers to her nose, inhaling the separate scents. Some were sweeter than others, and the colors were as varied as a Texas sky at sunset. To her surprise, tears came quickly, blurring the colors and Maddie's face.

  Maddie saw the tears and took a hesitant step back, leaning against her daddy's leg for comfort
. She looked at Royal.

  "Daddy, did I do something bad?"

  Angel groaned beneath her breath and before she thought, reached for Maddie and pulled her into her arms.

  "No, baby," Angel said softly, hugging the little girl close. "You did something good."

  "I did?"

  Angel nodded. "Oh, yes, and do you know what it was?"

  Maddie shook her head.

  "No one ever gave me flowers before."

  "Ever?" Maddie asked. "Not even on your birthday?"

  "No. Not even on my birthday." She hugged her again and kissed her on the cheek. "That's why these are so special. Thank you a hundred times. Maybe even a thousand times."

  Maddie beamed and spun out of Angel's arms. "We need water! Daddy said we need to put the damn things in water." She headed for the kitchen.

  Royal's face turned red as he offered her a hand up. "I didn't mean that the way it—"

  Angel eyed the wide, callused palm and the long fingers before getting up on her own.

  "I know," she said, smiling slightly as she bent to smell them one more time. "I'd better help Maddie find a vase."

  Royal shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, Maddie can make a mess faster than anyone I ever knew."

  "She's just a child," Angel said.

  Royal nodded, watching the look of awe on Angel's face as she kept touching first one flower and then another. To him they looked like hell. Maddie had sat on part of them once and dropped all of them twice since they'd been picked. They were covered in dust, and if he wasn't mistaken, there was a small green worm climbing up one of the stems. A floral tribute it was not. But it had come from his daughter's heart. He kept thinking how close he'd come to ignoring Maddie's request for him to stop along the roadside where the flowers had grown.

  All he could think was that this moment would never have happened and Angel would still have been waiting for her first bouquet.

  "Angel?"

  "Yes?"

  "Was that true? Are these the first flowers anyone ever gave you?"

  A wry grin tilted the corner of her mouth. "Yes. Doesn't say much for my popularity, does it?"

  He frowned. "I'd come near saying the men you've known have been sadly lacking in class, that's what I'd say."

  Then, embarrassed that he'd given so much of himself away, he pivoted, muttered that he'd help Maddie find that damned vase and stomped away.

  Angel stood, staring at the stiffness in his posture and the haste with which he left, and tried to decide if he'd been angry with himself or with her. Finally, she shrugged. It didn't matter. Right now, nothing mattered but these flowers and the love in which they'd been given.

  At that moment, a little crack began to form in the shell around Angel's heart. But she didn't hear it, and if she had, wouldn't have recognized the sound. It would be a while yet before Angel Rojas became familiar with the sound of joy.

  That night the flowers were the centerpiece for the dining room table, and long after the lights were out and everyone else had gone to sleep, Angel still lay, wide-eyed and sleepless, thinking about the way Maddie's arms had felt around her neck. Remembering the silky-soft texture of the little girl's skin against her cheek. Tasting the faint, salty taste of sweat as she'd kissed her.

  A longing for something more than she had began burning within her. She felt empty and lonely in a way she'd never known. With a groan, she got out of bed and walked to the window. She stared across the yard toward the building beyond. The blue-white glow of the security light gave an icy appearance to all that she saw. She shuddered and spun to stare at the room before her.

  Thanks to her sleepless night, her covers were in tangles, and although her shoes were near a chair and she knew her clothes were in the closet, the room had taken on an unfamiliar feel. It was as if she'd walked out of a nightmare into a place where she didn't belong.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, whispering a prayer her mother had taught her many years ago to take away bad dreams. But when the prayer was over and she opened her eyes, the feeling was still with her.

  She bit her lip and sighed and headed back to bed. Just before she laid down, a thought occurred. She dropped the covers she'd been holding and hurried out of her room.

  The red Spanish tiles in the hallway were cool beneath her feet. Out of her room, she felt vulnerable. Anxious not to be discovered, she hastened her steps, all but running to get to the dining room table.

  Then she was there, sighing with relief when her fingers curled around the cool, smooth surface of the mason jar that doubled as a vase for Maddie's flowers. She scurried down the hall clutching the vase and her bouquet.

  As she crossed the threshold to her room, her anxiety decreased. She sat on the side of her bed, lightly fingering the velvety petals. Peace settled. She gave the petals one last touch, then laid down, pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. The last thing she remembered was the hum of the central air-conditioning and the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.

  The next morning began with a knot in her shoelace that she couldn't untie and went downhill from there. When she went into the kitchen to start breakfast, Royal was already up and the coffeepot was half empty. The anger on his face was evident as he talked on the phone, and although Angel did not know who he was talking to, she felt sympathy for them just the same.

  "Look, damn it. I ordered that fertilizer over a month ago. You promised delivery last week, and it's still not here. I don't give a rat's ass who you're trying to blame. What I'm saying to you is, if it's not here today, then consider my order canceled."

  Angel winced as he slammed the phone down. She was debating about leaving the room when he realized he was no longer alone.

  "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't know you were—"

  Royal shoved a hand through his hair in frustration, mussing the dark, spiky strands into instant disarray.

  "No, I'm the one who should be sorry," Royal muttered and had the grace to look ashamed. "Sometimes I lose my temper."

  Angel stifled a grin. That was the most obvious understatement she'd ever heard.

  "Yes, I know."

  Royal stilled and gave her a long, considering look. "Was that sarcasm I heard?"

  She didn't flinch, returning his stare look for look. "Do you have a preference for breakfast?" she asked.

  Royal tried to glare, but it was hard to get the point across when being ignored. He moved a step closer, taking some small delight in the fact that she took a step back.

  "Yes, I have a preference," he said softly.

  Angel's eyes widened and her heart started to pound. She wanted to run but couldn't find the will to break free of his stare.

  "I'm hungry as hell," he continued, took another step toward her and lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "But I don't know what I want."

  God give me strength, Angel thought, and wondered if she could deck him as she had Fat Louie. And then wondered if she would. There was something about the man she had tried without success to ignore.

  "Do you have any suggestions?" Royal asked, knowing he was pushing every button she had and wondering, as he continued to bait her, why it mattered.

  Angel doubled her fists and took a deep breath. But before she could react, he turned and poured himself another cup of coffee and strolled toward the back door as if she wasn't even there.

  She went limp with relief and cleared her throat, thankful that her voice wasn't as shaky as her legs.

  "Do you intend to eat breakfast or not?" she asked.

  Royal turned, the cup halfway to his lips, and grinned. "Surprise me." He walked outside and let the door slam shut behind him.

  The urge to throw something was strong within her as she stomped to the cabinets and yanked out a bowl. He wanted a surprise? She would give him a surprise. He'd think twice before he pulled that macho stuff on her again.

  * * *

  Royal glanced at his watch and then up the driveway, nodding with
satisfaction as the man from Wilson's Seed and Feed circled the pasture, applying liquid fertilizer. It was almost two. His belly grumbled. He'd missed lunch, which was probably just as well. His mouth was still burning from breakfast. He knew the moment he'd started the game with Angel that he was taking his frustration out on her. But who would have known she'd take it so personally?

  Hell, his lips were blistered and bound to peel, and he wondered if tongues peeled, too. He'd had hot food plenty of times in his life. In fact, he prided himself on being able to eat real Tex-Mex cooking with the best. But he'd never in his life eaten anything as hot as the omelette she'd put on his plate.

  The first bite was already in his belly before he knew what had happened. He hiccuped and reached for his coffee, then changed his mind and poured himself some of Maddie's milk.

  Maddie had continued to eat her cereal, unaware of the undercurrents between Daddy and her angel.

  The milk had helped, but only slightly. He stared at the remaining omelette on his plate and then at Angel, who was shaking more pepper sauce onto hers. His eyes narrowed. Damn her. What was she trying to prove, that she was tougher because she could eat liquid fire? Infuriated that she was making him eat his words, he picked up his fork and took another big bite.

  Angel didn't look up. Not because she was afraid of what she'd done but because she was afraid she'd laugh in his face. He was hurting, and she knew it. The hiccup was proof that his stomach had experienced an instant rebellion. But he was tough, she'd give him that. She heard the scrape of his fork against his plate and knew he'd taken another bite. She reached for a piece of toast and began to butter it with smooth, even strokes. Then she picked up the rack.

  "Want some toast?" she asked.

  Royal's eyes were running streams of pure tears, and he was in the act of digging a handkerchief from his pocket to stop the flow. He stuffed the handkerchief under his nose and yanked the rack of toast out of her hands.

  "Thanks."

  Angel met his glare with an innocent stare. "Don't mention it … again," she said softly.

  He started to speak and choked and coughed instead. All he could manage was a nod, but he'd gotten the message. He'd pushed. She'd pushed back. He wasn't sure, but he didn't think he would be pushing her again. At least not like that. When it came to revenge, Maddie's angel didn't play fair.