The Cowboy and the Princess

by Lori Wilde

  Annie charged around the truck, jumped into the seat beside him, Brady peeling off down the alley before she’d gotten the door closed tight. When they bounced from the alley out onto Main Street, Brady glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to see the Blues Brothers and a cadre of Secret Service agents march into Mariah’s shop.

  “Start talking now,” Brady said. “No more bullshit. Who are those guys? Why are they after you? What have you done, Annie? Is your name even Annie?”

  Annie was sick. It was here. The moment she’d feared for weeks. She gripped the dashboard as Brady rocketed down the main road out of Jubilee.

  “Answer me!” he commanded.

  She’d never seen him looking so angry. “Yes, no, sort of.”

  “Yes, no, sort of what?”

  “My name is Annie. Sort of. It is a nickname.”

  “What’s your real name?”

  “Annabella.”

  “What about Coste,” he said through gritted teeth. “Is that your last name?”

  “No.”

  “What is your last name?”

  She gulped. “Farrington.”

  “And what is so damn special about you that the Blues Brothers have called in the Feds? Did you rob a bank? Are you an international terrorist? Some super-rich man’s daughter?”

  “The latter. Sort of.”

  “Just tell me or I swear to God, I’m going to pull this truck over and kick you out on the side of the road.”

  “You would not do that.”

  “Once upon a time, I would not have, but I’m a dad now and I could lose custody of my daughter over your antics and your lies, so yeah, go ahead and try me, Annabella Farrington. Just who the hell are you?”

  Annie understood his anger. She did not blame him. She had brought this all on herself. She had led him on. She was ashamed of herself. She regretted how she had hurt him. It had been wrong, this deception. All of it. From the very beginning. Her escape from President Glover’s compound, hitchhiking, coming to Jubilee, moving in with Brady. Falling in love with him. Her reckless, selfish drive for an adventure would hurt a lot of people. The citizens of Jubilee would feel duped. She had never wanted to hurt people. And the last thing she wanted was to come between Brady and his daughter.

  “My full title is Princess Annabella Madeleine Irene Osbourne Farrington of Monesta.”

  Dead silence followed her announcement. She peeked over at Brady. He had the steering wheel in a death grip and his jaw was clenched. The wound he’d gotten defending her honor had healed to a faint pinkish scar. “Could you repeat that?”

  She took a deep breath. “I am Princess Annabella Madeleine Irene Osbourne Farrington of Monesta, destined in a prearranged marriage that will merge the bloodlines of our countries to wed Prince Theodore George Jameson Forsythe of Dubinstein.”

  Another long silence.

  “Biscuits and gravy, that’s one helluva mouthful,” Brady finally said, then added in a sarcastic tone, “Princess.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “It’s the most farfetched thing I’ve ever heard and I wouldn’t believe you except for two things. The Blues Brothers and their posse back there and the fact that Princess Annabella arrived in the U.S. over four weeks ago for the wedding of former president Glover’s daughter and I happened to pick you up just a few miles from the presidential compound. So, yeah, as unfathomable as it seems, I do believe you.”

  Annie exhaled audibly. “You’re mad at me.”

  He grimaced. “Not so much mad as, oh, I don’t know . . . betrayed.”

  “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “So you suggested we move in together. Well, oops, you forgot to tell me you were engaged.”

  “Teddy and I weren’t officially engaged. It hadn’t been announced.”

  “But there’s a prearranged wedding?”

  “In three weeks,” she admitted.

  “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

  “I never set out to hurt you,” she murmured. “You told me from the beginning you were a temporary kind of guy. You liked to keep things light. That was just what I was looking for. I took you at your word and now you are mad at me because of it.”

  “Dammit, Annie,” he yelled. “I fell in love with you!”

  Trampas whimpered from the backseat. Lady Astor barked from the satchel.

  Annie’s breath stopped altogether. “What did you say?”

  “I tried my best not to, but I fell in love with you,” he repeated through gritted teeth. “But the joke’s on me. I fell in love with a freaking princess. A real live princess who even if she loves me back I have absolutely no chance of ever being with. None. Zero. So yeah, excuse me if I feel angry and hurt and betrayed and forsaken and . . . heartbroken.”

  Annie laid a hand against her own heart, felt tears rolling down her cheeks. “Oh, Brady, I am so, so sorry. I love you too.”

  They ended their relationship where they began it. At Toad’s Big Rig Truck Stop. This time over breakfast instead of chili.

  “For old times’ sake,” Brady said ruefully.

  They’d been unable to resist one last night together. They’d spent it on the small mattress in his trailer in the parking lot of the truck stop, making love for hours as the big rigs rolled in and out. They hadn’t slept at all. They’d made love and cried and made love again and cried some more.

  They ate, but did not speak. What was there to say?

  Annie had learned so much over the past few weeks—how to cook, how to clean a house, how to arrange flowers for a wedding bouquet, how to be useful during someone’s time of grief. She’d been to a Fright House, watched a rodeo, painted a nursery, gone on a picnic, and gotten her ears pierced.

  And a handsome cowboy had made love to her long, slow, hard, gentle, and everything in between.

  She had achieved what she’d set out to do. For the last four and a half weeks, she’d lived the life of an ordinary person. She’d become Annie Coste inside and out. The thought of returning to Monesta brought tears to her eyes.

  She did not miss her homeland. It felt alien to her now. She did not want to go back. More than anything in the world, she wanted to stay here with Brady and raise Orchid in the quaint cottage. She wanted to go to more rodeos and carnivals. She wanted to play cards with the members of the Jubilee co-op. She wanted to ride horses and play ring-around-the-rosy with Orchid as she grew. She wanted to have babies of her own with Brady. Oh! She wanted so many things. Things she knew she could not have.

  She was royalty. She owed something to her country. The sense of duty that had been drilled into her since girlhood warred with her dreams. She could not win. Like Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday, she had to give up her Gregory Peck to assume her birthright.

  Annie longed to kick and scream at the unfairness of it all. She’d finally found happiness, a place where she felt she truly belonged, and she must turn her back on happiness and walk away.

  “Have you ever seen the movie Roman Holiday?” she asked him.

  “No. What’s it about?”

  “A runaway princess. It’s my favorite movie.”

  “Imagine that.”

  “It gave me some unrealistic ideas.”

  “So I gather.”

  “Brady . . . I never meant to hurt you.”

  “And yet you did.” His eyes smoldered.

  “If I could take it all back, I would.”

  “I wouldn’t,” he said.

  “You would not?”

  “Without meeting you I would never have been ready for Orchid.”

  “You would have.”

  “No. It wasn’t until I met you that I ever considered settling down a viable option. Maybe that’s why we met. So you could help me prepare to care for this child that’s coming into my life.”

  “You taught me so much.”

  Moisture glistened in his eyes. His jaw tensed. “It’s time to go.”

  “You cannot take me any farther,”
she said. “You will run into massive security, and who needs that. You may pull over here.”

  Brady slowed the truck, pulled over on the access road. “I hate the thought of you and Lady Astor out there walking alone.”

  Annie patted her satchel. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Trampas is going to miss her something awful.”

  “He will have Orchid to drive him crazy as soon as she starts crawling.”

  “You’re probably right about that.”

  Brady glanced down. Annie stared out the window.

  “In Roman Holiday,” Annie said, “Princess Ann makes Joe Bradley promise not to watch her walk away. She tells him to just drive away and leave her as she leaves him.”

  “This isn’t a movie.” Brady’s voice cracked.

  “The circumstances are hauntingly familiar.”

  “I’m gonna have to rent that flick.”

  “You’ll love it,” she said, paused, added, “or maybe not.”

  They looked at each other. He reached for her. Hugged her so tight she couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to breathe ever again if it meant breathing without him. He kissed her hard. Annie clung to him. Tears filled her eyes.

  “I must—”

  “I know.”

  She reached for the door.

  “Annabella?”

  Back to that already. “Yes.”

  “You have a wonderful life, you hear?” His voice cracked.

  Annie put a palm to her mouth. The pain was so acute. She had never known how badly a broken heart could hurt. She was born into royalty. She had no choice. Her life was not her own.

  She stumbled from the truck, the satchel with Lady Astor in it clutched to her chest. Then just like Princess Ann, she started running, putting as much distance between herself and the man she loved as fast as she possibly could.

  Dammit.

  In his heart, Brady had known all along that Annie was too good to be true. His gut had tried to warn him, but his heart had not wanted to listen. She’d been everything he’d ever hoped for in a woman. Smart, sophisticated, and yet down-to-earth, hardworking. A real helpmate. She’d been so kind and loving about his daughter. So accepting of his friends. Why did she have to turn out to be a runaway princess?

  He wanted to go back into the presidential compound, risk life and limb and beg her to step down from the throne. To abdicate and move to Jubilee. It was a stupid impulse and he knew it. Royalty did not give up their birthrights to be with the likes of him. She might have enjoyed playing at the cowgirl life, but soon enough the novelty would have worn off. She would miss her adoring subjects and life in a rambling palace. She would want to see her own family, her homeland, and eventually she would come to resent him because she had given up her birthright to be with him. No, he could not, would not ask her to give up her life for his. This was the way it had to be. No matter how much he loved her.

  Hot tears burned at the backs of his eyelids but he bit down on his tongue to hold them at bay. Hell, he did not cry. He wasn’t a crier. All those times his father had beaten him, he had not cried. He’d held in his pain, tamped it down, swallowed it away. He’d focused on what he could control in his life. His thoughts. His attitudes. He’d latched on to happy-go-lucky like a lifeline and he’d sworn off commitment and involvement. And then one little girl had changed all that.

  Brady blew out a breath. He didn’t need Annie. Sure, he would miss her. Miss her more than he could say. But he’d get over her. Eventually. If he really loved her, he’d let her go to her destiny and be happy for her. He’d cherish the memory of their time together and he would move on. He had to. He had Orchid now. She needed him. That was the important thing. He had a daughter who needed him. Because of Orchid, he could survive anything.

  What was a little heartbreak after all?

  And in the end, he’d have a great story to tell his grandchildren about how he once dated the Princess of Monesta.

  Brady smiled to himself in the darkness. It was a good fairy tale. One he’d cling to with all his might.

  It was the only way he could get through losing the only woman he’d ever truly loved.

  Brady swiped at his eyes with the back of a hand. His chest hurt so bad. Could he be having a heart attack? He’d been driving for over an hour headed for East Texas to pick up Joe’s horse and he could not stop thinking about Annie. Tormenting himself with visions of her pink honeysuckle lips and big gray-blue eyes.

  The pain will ease. You have Orchid to think of. It’s time to grow up. Snap out of it.

  He blew out his breath. Turned on the satellite radio.

  “In news at the hour,” said the newscaster, “word from former president Glover’s ranch in Dallas, Texas, is that Princess Annabella Farrington has recovered enough from her bout with mononucleosis to return at last to Monesta for her upcoming nuptials to the Prince of Dubinstein. Annabella fell ill four weeks ago while attending the wedding of President Glover’s daughter, Echo, who is still honeymooning in Fiji. And in other news . . .”

  Brady snapped off the radio. It hadn’t taken the powers-that-be long to call a press conference and spin the hell out of a missing princess. He didn’t envy Annie and the lofty, untouchable life she’d been born to lead.

  Chapter Seventeen

  You might be a princess if . . . you have a special destiny.

  A week after she left Texas, Annabella gazed out the window, looking across the palace lawn to the ocean below. Between Chandler, Strawn, the presidential spin doctors, and Rosalind, they’d managed to keep her misadventures in Texas a secret from King Phillip. Former president Glover hadn’t wanted anyone to know.

  Her father thought she really did have mono and had spent the last month recovering at the former president’s home. Annabella felt bad about lying to her father, but when she’d learned he never even bothered to call and check up on her, a bit of the guilt faded. The nagging notion that she was little more to her father than a means of marrying Monesta to Dubinstein grew longer roots.

  Her gaze tracked the expanse of blue water. It was so beautiful. A sight she had awakened to all her life. Why did it make her feel so empty now? She was home and yet she had never felt so displaced. She would be leaving soon, anyway. Heading north to Dubinstein after her wedding. Dubinstein. A place of tall, dark pine trees, mountainous terrain, and cold temperatures. A place far removed from her sunny spot beside the sea. And yet, when she thought of moving to Dubinstein, it was not Monesta she missed, but Jubilee.

  Annabella’s gaze shifted, moving from the scenery to the Louis XV writing desk. On it sat the picture of her and Brady at Fright House. She pulled it out every day, gazed at it longingly before hiding it again in the secret compartment. She reached for the picture, traced their faces with an index finger. Very soon she was going to have to lock the snapshot in a safe where it could never be found. Lock away Annie’s wild adventure for all time.

  A heavy sigh filled her lungs. She ran a hand through her hair. A little longer now and back to its original color. She told her father she cut it during her illness because she hadn’t had the strength to wash long locks. The last of Annie was slowly fading away.

  Her heart crimped and she curled her fingernails into her palm. By tomorrow night, it would be official. She would be Princess Annabella Madeleine Irene Osbourne Farrington Forsythe of Dubinstein. After tomorrow, there was no going back. All she would have left were memories.

  She scanned the boardwalk and the old memory resurfaced. The first time she’d run away and stolen cotton candy. Then she thought of another cotton candy, eaten with Brady at the carnival. A lump formed in her throat. She would not cry. Tears solved nothing. The past was gone. So were Brady and Orchid.

  Except not Trampas.

  Lady Astor yawned and stretched from her spot on her pillow, showing off her round little belly. When they had returned home from Texas, she had been so listless that at first Annabella thought she was simply pining for Trampas, but when she refused to eat f
or two days in a row, Annabella had the royal vet come in to examine her.

  “Lady Astor is pregnant,” he said. “Congratulations. She’s going to have puppies.”

  “What a naughty way to bring home a souvenir,” Annabella scolded her, but she had been glad. If she couldn’t have Brady and Orchid, she could at least have lots of little half Yorkies.

  Behind her, the door opened.

  Annie turned from the window to see Rosalind in the doorway.

  “Might I come in, Your Highness?”

  Annie waved her over the threshold.

  Rosalind closed the door behind her. She paused, curtsied.

  “Please,” Annie said. “Do not do that.”

  “It is tradition, Princess.”

  “I have decided I do not much care for tradition.”

  A faint smile lifted Rosalind’s lips, quickly to be replaced by a somber expression. “May I speak frankly?”

  “You may.”

  “I must tell you something important. It is a secret I have been keeping for over twenty-five years. A secret that weighs heavily on my heart.”

  Annie moved to the bed, sat down, patted the spot beside her. “Have a seat, dear Rosalind, unburden yourself.”

  Rosalind wrung her hands. She did not sit. “I am not certain it is the right thing to do. You are getting married, moving away.”

  “You are going with me.”

  “You might not want me after you hear what I have to say.”

  “How dark can your secret be? Please, sit down.”

  “Not on your bed. It would not be proper.”

  “Sit,” Annabella insisted.

  Rosalind finally eased down on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath. “This is the most difficult thing I have ever done.”

  Annie touched her knee. “It could not be that bad.”

  “You might think so when you hear what I have done.”

  “It affects me?”

  Rosalind nodded.

  A sense of foreboding slid down Annie’s stomach. “I am listening.”

  Rosalind gnawed a thumbnail. “I do not know where to begin.”