The bigger part of why Texas no longer fit was a princess—now a queen, he realized—half a world away.
"Eloise's dad died." Just saying the words hit him low in the gut. She must be devastated.
He knew things had been difficult with her father, with the pressure the king had put on her and her duties running the kingdom.
Was she taking care of herself? Allowing her sisters in or drowning in grief all alone?
"You should go to her," EJ said. “I’ve got all those church ladies to look in on me.”
It was true. EJ had made international news, photographed with a princess and his semi-famous nephew, even though the press hadn’t been exactly kind to his uncle either. Some of the busybodies from their local church had got it in their heads that EJ could be set on the straight and narrow if they plied him with casseroles. There was a parade of old, single women through his home nearly every other day, something Cody couldn’t help but chuckle about when he thought of it.
Cody imagined returning to Glorvaird as he dialed again and held the phone to his ear. Would Eloise be happy to see him?
The phone rang but he still got her voicemail. He left a message this time. "It's Cody. I just heard the news. Wondering if you're okay. I wanted..." To be there with her. "To check on you. Call me." He hung up.
After a week of silence, somehow he knew she wouldn't.
If Cody did go back to Glorvaird, would Eloise welcome him? Or would her protective walls have come back up, reinforced and stronger than ever, since he'd gone?
He missed her with an ache that rivaled the stupid headaches. With the distance between them, he'd come to realize that he wasn't falling in love with her. He’d already fallen. Hard.
He loved her resilience. That she hadn't given up on life, even though she'd guarded herself so carefully.
He loved her devotion to her family and her kingdom.
He loved the little wrinkle that appeared at the bridge of her nose when she was lost in thought.
He also knew she wasn't going to invite him back. She'd been careful in her goodbyes, wishing him luck and asking about EJ's health. She was so used to keeping everyone at a distance, he couldn't imagine her making herself vulnerable enough to ask him to return.
If he loved her, he needed to go back and prove it. See if they could have a future together.
10
Ethan had had enough. Enough of his wife avoiding him. Enough of fearing the moment when she’d tell him she didn't love him anymore.
If she was done with him, he wanted to know it.
He took a deep breath and pushed open the door to their bedroom. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over with her face in her hands. She was crying quietly.
Maybe confronting Mia wasn't the best idea, not in the dark days after her father's death.
She looked up, her face tear-streaked, and he couldn't stay away. Even if things didn't end up the way he wanted.
He held out his arms. She came into his embrace easily, like it was the most natural thing for her. He tucked her head beneath his chin as he sat with her on the bed, holding her through her grief.
He loved her so much. He honestly didn't know how he would survive without her.
When her tears seemed to be spent, he pulled her back to lie on top of the coverlet next to him, her head tucked against his shoulder.
He stared up at the ceiling. Desperation crawled up his throat.
"You've been distracted lately," he said into the stillness of the room. "Even before…your dad…"
She took a shaky breath.
"If you want me to go back to the States after the funeral...take some time for yourself, I will."
The words cut his throat like glass, but he didn't call them back, no matter how much he wanted to.
Her head moved slightly, the crown of her head brushing his jaw. "I don't want that."
He swallowed, throat tight and hot. Couldn't help his eyes from closing in thankfulness. She didn't want him to go.
Her legs tensed, shifted. "I need to tell you something, and I'm not sure how you're going to react."
What could be so bad that she’d fear telling him?
"I'm pregnant."
Everything in him—all the whirling thoughts, the beat of his heart, everything—went still. A baby?
"We're having a baby?" The words came from deep inside, passed through a mouth gone desert dry.
He rose on his elbow, jostling her slightly, but he had to see her face.
Her eyes were still tear-filled as she nodded slightly.
He didn't know how to read her at this moment. She looked...miserable.
"And you're...upset?" he asked tentatively, afraid to make things worse.
"No!" she exclaimed fiercely. "Aren't you upset? I thought after everything with your brothers that you'd want some time without...without the burden."
He tucked some loose strands of her hair behind her ear, brushed a kiss on her cheek. "Our baby won't be a burden. She'll be a little bundle of joy."
Mia's face brightened, and she threw her arms around his neck.
He laughed, some of the tension of the past days seeping from him. A baby. They were having a baby.
He cupped Mia's jaw, kissed her passionately as tears fell on both their cheeks.
It took Cody two days to get there, between scheduling flights out of the U.S. and coordinating with Jill, who would only tell him the princess “wasn't herself.”
Of course she wasn't. She was grieving.
The staff pointed him to the beach, and he found her at the farthest edge. He'd hiked the sand plenty enough times to know the spot where the sand met stone walls.
She was lying prone on the sand amidst jagged black boulders that jutted out of the sand.
The tide had come in and was lapping at her bare feet. Was she hurt? Had she fallen and hit her head?
Facedown, he could only see part of her pale cheek not obscured by her hair. She was as pale and still as death.
"Eloise!" he shouted when he was still yards away, loping toward her at top speed.
He fell to his knees beside her with a spray of sand and reached for her with trembling hands.
She rolled over, her shoulders shaking in his hands. She took a ragged breath.
She was covered in sand, damp from being in the sea air for who knew how long, but she was alive.
He brushed at the sand on her face, trying to get her hair out of the way so he could get a proper look at her. Was she injured? Why was she just lying there?
"Don't," she mumbled, batting at his hand.
He ignored her protest. "It's all right, honey, I'm here."
Her eyes flashed open, and she rewarded him with the first glimpse of her devastated blue depths. "Cody?"
"In the flesh." He used his thumb to swipe the last few grains of sand from her jaw, examining her face from close up. She seemed unharmed.
She looked worn clear through. Lines of sadness fanned from the corners of her eyes, and dark circles drooped beneath.
He still thought she was beautiful. And back in his arms, just where she belonged.
Maybe not lying in the sand with the surf licking at their feet.
He helped her sit up.
"You scared me," he said, one hand at her back. And then, because latent fear and adrenaline were still spiraling through him, he crushed her to him. He held her tightly to his chest, just breathing in the sand and salt and Eloise's own unique scent.
Her hands clutched his T-shirt, fisted tightly in the material.
She was still shaking, and it took him a moment to realize she was crying. Her tears were hot where her face pressed against his neck. He cupped the back of her head, content to hold her as long as she needed.
Eventually, she quieted to soft hiccups and then to the occasional sniffle.
His left leg had gone to sleep, and he had to shift. She let go of his shirt and wiped her face with her palms.
When she sat up,
and her shoulders straightened, the signs of the grieving woman were gone, save the blotches of color that remained in her face.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
Eloise was afraid of the massive outpouring of hope that has risen in her breast when she'd realized Cody was real—really here—and not an apparition she'd dreamed up in her haze of grief and pain.
It was entirely possible he'd come for the funeral and that was it. She had to tame the wild hope swirling in her like a typhoon.
He brushed wet strands of hair out of her eyes, then cupped her cheek, his palm covering her scars.
"I would've been here sooner, but it took three connecting planes and too long..."
She shook her head, unable to find words. She still couldn't fathom it. He'd come.
"I called."
She hadn't been able to listen to his voice, knowing she would never see him again.
"You're here, but...why?" she dared to ask.
He tilted his head slightly to one side, his eyes warm as they focused on her face. "Because I love you."
Joy and hope rose up inside her, bubbling out in a strangled half sob. "Why?"
He didn't lose his smile, didn't stop touching her face. "For a million reasons. I think I started falling for you during the wedding, wondering what it was about me that you hated so much that you glared at me the whole way through."
Her face flushed with heat and she raised one hand to cover her embarrassment from him, but he wouldn't let her hide. He linked their fingers together and pulled her hand away.
"I know I'm no prince, but my intuition tells me you might feel the same way," he continued.
Her face was on fire now, but she nodded minutely. "I do. I love you."
He lost the slight edge of tension that had tightened his shoulders. His smile softened, and he leaned in to brush his lips across hers.
She laid her palm against his chest, content to lean her head against his chin and bask in his embrace.
How had it come to this? She’d been so sure they'd never see each other again.
She cleared her throat. "Your uncle?"
"Ornery as ever," he said, pressing another kiss against her temple. "He pushed me to come to you." His arms squeezed tight around her. "I'm sorry about your father."
So was she.
She’d been shocked and surprised at the dedication of the hospital’s burn center. She hadn’t realized how deeply Father’s passion for the project had run until she’d seen it in person. The dedication had opened the door for her to finally reach out to her Father one last time, realizing that he loved her in his own way, even when he hadn’t been able to say the words.
Her grief over his death was all-encompassing, still pounding her heart like ocean waves even beneath the joy of being with Cody again.
"Can you stay through the funeral?" She whispered the question. "We're having a family service tomorrow, but the state funeral won't be for another week."
"I can stay longer than that," he said. "And if I have to go again, I promise I'll come back." He used one hand to turn her jaw, so she was looking right at him. "I'll always come back to you."
Epilogue
"Do you really believe she's fit to rule? She had an outburst in public just three months ago."
Eloise overheard the question from where she stood outside the door to one of the castle's meeting rooms. She knew the identity of the speaker—one of her father's top advisors and a member of the royal council—and his words stung.
But not like they would've before Cody had come into her life.
Now…well, she didn't exactly feel pretty, but somehow Cody thought she was beautiful. And by seeing herself through his eyes, she was able to ignore people’s snide comments and appreciate the friends and citizens who supported her.
She'd stopped expecting everyone to hate her for her looks, stopped reading the tabloids altogether, and started listening to what her people really had to say. She believed she could run the country, provide for her people, make the world a better place.
She was changed, and it was all thanks to the man she loved. Because of Cody, she could face this meeting. It was important, because of the question Cody had told her he wanted to ask her.
He wanted to marry her. And because she was the crown princess, the royal council had to approve of him before the marriage would be allowed. It was an archaic law, and probably she could get it changed if she really, really wanted to—although that process could take years—but she'd rather do things the traditional way. It was in her own small way a tribute to her father.
And the sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could return to Cody, who was waiting in the palace gardens.
"Good afternoon," she said as she walked into the meeting with a smile.
The men and one woman of the council seemed completely baffled by Eloise's poise and demeanor.
And that was the moment when she knew she’d be able to convince them that Cody was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
Shush whush, shush whush.
"That's her," Ethan said, his voice soft with awe.
Mia couldn't take her eyes off of the ultrasound monitor, where the tiny blip of their baby's heart beat like hummingbird wings. Ethan's hand clutched hers, or maybe they clutched each other.
Mia's heart was flying, too.
She sniffled. "It could be a boy."
The ultrasound tech locked the baby's image on the screen and faded into the background as their gentle, teasing argument continued.
Finally, Mia's tears wouldn't be stemmed, and several ran down her cheeks.
"Hey," Ethan whispered, cupping her cheek in his big, warm hand. "What's the matter?"
"We're really going to do this. Have a baby."
"Little late to change our minds now." He nodded to the ultrasound screen and the little body curled in the fetal position. "You scared?"
"A little," she admitted. "What if I'm not a good mom? I don't even remember my own mother."
And he'd lost his mom at such a young age, and his stepmother had been horrible to him. A tiny sob hiccupped out.
He didn't seem fazed. He pulled her in so her face was tucked into his shoulder and allowed her to vent the overwhelming emotions. Stupid hormones.
When her tears had descended to mere sniffles again, he sat next to her on the examination table. "We'll both have a lot to learn about being good parents," he said softly. "But we can do it together. There's nothing to be scared of as long as we've got each other."
His words were a balm to her, reassurance of what she already knew. Cody was strong where she was weak, and when he was vulnerable, she could be his rock. They were a good match, a perfect fit. Their baby would be loved, endlessly, and she couldn't wait to meet him or her.
Two months later
* * *
Welcome to Oklahoma! the roadside sign proclaimed.
Kylie Winters curled her hands around the steering wheel, tensing until her knuckles were white.
She was really doing this.
Four states, fifteen hundred miles, one grieving heart.
This was her last stop on a year-long road trip, her last chance to connect with a deceased mother. Kylie had wanted this trip to be about discovery, but she hadn't found what she'd been looking for.
Maybe it didn't exist.
Autumn was turning the landscape into a kaleidoscope of color. Kylie turned off the interstate and onto a meandering two-lane road. It would be another hour of driving before she reached her destination, and she knew to watch out for speed traps as she drove through small towns along the way.
She wasn't in any hurry, not really. Facing these memories would be painful.
So she rolled down the windows in her beater of a car and let her foot ease off the gas a little.
Her road trip buddy, a white shepherd mix named Snow, stretched from where she'd been dozing across the backseat. The dog stuck first its nose and then entire head out the open window,
barking with joy as the wind ruffled the fur on her face.
Kylie laughed. And then she was pierced with grief, because Mom would've laughed and tried to take a photo even as she drove.
Snow had been Mom's dog. Kylie had rescued her when she'd arrived at mom's apartment two days after she'd received the phone call from her mom's neighbor telling her of mom's sudden passing.
Kylie and her mom hadn't agreed on much in the last six years, but Kylie could see why her mom had loved the dog. Snow was kindhearted and sensitive, often coming near to put her chin on Kylie's knee when a wave of sadness hit, as they did so often and so unexpectedly.
Another roadside sign showed that Bear Lake was only forty-five more miles.
Forty-five miles to the last place where she'd really felt safe. The last moments of her childhood had taken place in Bear Lake.
Would she be able to face the last untarnished memories of Mom?
The Lost Princess
1
Kylie Winters lifted her foot from the accelerator and let her old beater slow as she took in the grandeur of the changing colors. She knew Oklahoma had its share of plains and wheat fields, but this eastern part of the state was hilly and covered in trees. The autumn season was performing its magic as it turned the leaves a rainbow of yellows, oranges, and reds.
Cool evening wind from the open passenger window whipped her hair into her eyes, but Snow—her white shepherd mix—had her nose out the window, and Kylie couldn't bear to ruin the animal's enjoyment.
Her memory didn't do the tree-covered hills justice. Had it always been a kaleidoscope of color like this?
The two lane road wound through the hills, inviting a leisurely pace, and Kylie went with it. Shadows fell as the evening lengthened, and she flipped on her headlights.
But simple enjoyment of the scenery felt out of her reach. She wanted to slow her journey, to try and grasp the peace that was so elusive, even after a spring and summer of searching. Bear Lake was her last stop. If she couldn’t find what she was looking for here, maybe it didn’t exist.
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