One Pink Rose; One White Rose; One Red Rose (25 page)

“Want to tell me what you were thinking about a minute ago?”

She could feel herself blushing. “This and that.”

“Is that what you call it?” he asked.

“The horses,” she blurted out at the very same time. “Minerva and Pegasus. Yes, the Arabian stallion is Pegasus and his mate is Minerva. Didn't I tell you their names already?”

“Just Pegasus.”

She really wished he would go away for a little while. The way he was looking at her was making her feel self-conscious and as awkward as a little girl. “What have you been calling my Arabians?”

“This and that.”

He slowly brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “I think you should know something. I'm real partial to women with freckles. Yours drive me wild.” He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth quick and hard. “By the way,” he whispered, “I'm having some real wild thoughts about you too.”

He stunned the breath out of her, and he knew it. That was why he winked at her before he turned around and walked away. She stared after him until he disappeared into the kitchen; then she shut the door and fell back against it. Dear God, he'd known all the while what she was thinking about, and she was never, ever going to be able to look at him again.

She was mortified. She must have given herself away, but how in heaven's name had she done that? She didn't know, and she wasn't going to ask him. She wasn't going to have another scandalous thought about him for the rest of her life. In fact, she wouldn't think about him at all.

She threw herself down on the bed and groaned. She fell asleep a few minutes later with her feet hanging over the side of the bed, her shoes and stockings on, and one thought flitting through her mind.

He liked freckles.

H
e also liked games. He asked her during supper if she happened to have a deck of cards, which she did, and then he suggested they play poker.

“Have you ever played five card stud?”

“Oh, yes. I'm good too.”

The challenge was issued. They played five hands before Parker demanded to be fed. It was past time for her to go to bed anyway, because she was looking as though she was about to doze off any minute.

At her insistence, he added up their scores and told her the amount she owed him.

She stood up, yawned, and said, “I'll pay you back with my earnings tomorrow night when we play chess.”

He laughed. “Are you good at chess too?”

“Wait and see.”

Chess was his game. The following evening, he proved it to her by destroying her in a matter of minutes. He decided she obviously hadn't played a lot of checkers after he'd won five games in a row. By the end of the week, she owed him over a thousand dollars.

Douglas changed the rules from then on. He told her he had a much better idea. Instead of money, the winner could ask any question he or she wanted. No matter how personal the topic, an answer was required.

Suddenly, her skills improved. She won three games before he caught on to her ploy.

“You were deliberately letting me win, weren't you?”

“Some men like to win.”

“Most men like to win fairly. From now on, we both play to win. Agreed?”

“Yes,” she replied. “We should probably start all over. I let you win last night too.”

He tore up the sheet of paper with the totals before handing the deck of cards to her. She shuffled the cards like a dealer in Tommy's saloon, drawing a laugh from him.

“You little con.”

“I've played a lot of cards,” she admitted.

“No kidding.”

She proved how good she was by winning the next game. Before he had even showed her his pitiful hand consisting of two jacks, she asked her question.

“You told me you were a thief, remember? I want to know when and where.”

“When I was a boy, living on the streets of New York City. I took pretty much anything I wanted.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief, yet her voice sounded as though she was in awe of his criminal background. “Did you ever get caught?”

“No, I never got caught. I was lucky.”

After she'd won the following game, she asked him to tell her about his family. He explained how he, Travis, Cole, and Adam had joined together to become a family when they found a baby in a trash pile.

Isabel was fascinated, asked him a countless number of questions, and before he realized it, he'd talked for over an hour. By the time he was finished, he'd told her about his sister's husband, Harrison, and Travis's new bride, Emily. He saved the best for last and spoke in a soft voice when he talked about his Mama Rose.

“You know it's kind of odd really, now that I think about it, but Mama Rose is the reason I'm here. She heard about the Arabians and wanted me to come and see them. I was too busy at the time, and so I asked Travis to stop by the auction for me.”

“Parker was going to sell Pegasus at an auction? That can't be true. The only time he left Sweet Creek was to go to an attorney's office way up in River's Bend. Paddy went with him, and I'm certain they both came back here right away.”

Too late, Douglas realized he'd brought up a sore topic. “They probably stopped to rest their horses, that's all. By the way, Dr. Simpson told me about Paddy. Was he really crazy?”

“No, but everyone in town thought he was. He just had a few peculiarities. I got to know him quite well because he came to supper at least four times a week. He was much closer to Parker though. The two of them would put their heads together and talk in whispers well into the night. It was an odd friendship.”

“Did Parker ever tell you what they talked about?”

“No, he was very secretive about it, so I didn't pester him to tell me. He said he'd promised Paddy not to discuss whatever plans they were hatching. I miss the Irishman. He had such a good heart. Did you know he was here before Sweet Creek was even a town?”

“No, I didn't,” he said. “Tell me, did Parker keep other secrets from you?”

“If you're thinking he was going to sell Pegasus behind my back, you're wrong. Parker and I grew up together at an orphanage near Chicago, and I know everything there is to know about him. He wouldn't have done such a thing. He knew how much the horses meant to me. The sisters at the orphanage gave them to me so that I would have a dowry when I left them.”

“Where did they get the Arabians?”

“They were donated to the orphanage by a man they took in. He was dying, and it was his way of thanking them, I suppose. He didn't have any relatives, and he was terrified of dying alone. The sisters sat with him day and night.”

Douglas could see she was getting melancholy and quickly turned the topic. “Have I satisfied your curiosity about my family?”

She stopped frowning and shook her head. “How did Travis meet his wife, Emily?”

Douglas answered her question, and by the time he was finished, she was smiling again. It was obvious she had put the matter of Parker's selling Pegasus out of her mind for the moment.

“Does everyone like Emily?”

There was a yearning quality in her voice he didn't quite understand. Was she worried about the newest member of their family? If so, why?

“Yes, we all like her very much.”

“I'm sure I would like her too,” she said with a yawn she couldn't contain. “We should probably stop now. Could we play cards tomorrow night?”

“After I repair all the chairs. I still have three more to fix.”

“You don't need to worry about that. I already fixed them.”

He looked surprised. “Honestly, Douglas, I'm not helpless. I did a good job too. See for yourself.”

He didn't believe her until he checked them. “You did a better job than I did.”

“I watched you, remember?”

He did remember. He was impressed too that she would take the time and trouble after he had promised to do the task for her.

“Your eyelids are drooping now. You're sleepy, aren't you?”

“Yes. Good night, Douglas.”

“Good night, sugar.”

*  *  *

The next four weeks didn't drag. Douglas was surprised by how quickly the time passed and how comfortable he became in Isabel's home. He felt as though he were part of a family, and while that was a bit disturbing to him, it was also very, very nice.

He kept busy from sundown to sunup. Once a week he risked being seen during the day to hunt for fresh meat and to fish in a stream he'd found in the mountains west of the ranch. Every night he rode Brutus up into the hills to check on Boyle's lookouts to make certain there hadn't been any changes in their positions or numbers. When he returned to the ranch, he kept up with the ordinary chores, such as cutting wood and cleaning stalls.

His relationship with Isabel underwent a subtle change. In the beginning he'd deliberately teased her to make her feel good and smile. Now he teased her because her smiles made him feel good. He wasn't certain when it had happened, but he wasn't thinking of her as a new mother any longer. She had turned into a wonderfully sexy woman with all the right curves. Everything about her aroused him. He liked the way she spoke, the way she moved, the way she laughed. Dr. Simpson had been right when he'd said that Isabel was an easy woman to love. Douglas recognized that his heart was in jeopardy but couldn't figure out how to stop the inevitable from happening.

Like an old married couple, the two of them played cards every evening until it was dark enough for him to go outside. Several nights Parker joined them, and they took turns holding him while they played. Isabel won more games than he did, until he finally stopped staring at her freckles and started paying attention to what he was doing.

Boyle was way overdue for his next check on Isabel, and Douglas was getting edgy thinking about the bastard. He wanted to put an end to the terror tactics the coward used against her.

“You just won a game. Why are you frowning?”

“I was thinking about Boyle. He's late checking on you. You told me he usually comes here every other week to see you. . . .”

“He usually does,” she agreed.

“Then why hasn't he? I know he hasn't left for the Dakotas yet because every Monday night when I check in with Dr. Simpson, that's the first question I ask him. Why is Boyle dragging his feet?”

“I don't know, but I don't want to think about him now. We'll be ready for him if he comes calling. Ask me your question so we can play another hand before Parker wants to be fed again.”

“Why did you name the Arabians Pegasus and Minerva?”

“I was fascinated by mythology when I was in school. I used to draw pictures of Pegasus all the time. According to the legends, he was a beautiful white horse with majestic wings. Minerva was the Roman goddess of wisdom, and the sisters at the orphanage were constantly telling me I could certainly use a little wisdom. I didn't have much common sense back then,” she thought to add. “Anyway, Minerva caught Pegasus and tamed him. I found that very romantic.”

She covered her mouth, sneezed, then apologized.

“You don't need to apologize,” he said. “Tell me something. Did Parker catch you the way Minerva caught Pegasus, or did you catch Parker?”

“It wasn't like that with Parker and me. We were best friends for as long as I can remember. The sisters at the orphanage called him their little dreamer. I'm sure they meant it as a compliment, because Parker had such a kind heart. He wanted to change the world, and he was very passionate about social responsibilities.”

“Was Parker passionate with you?”

“I've answered enough questions. Deal the cards, please.”

He could feel her withdrawing and knew it was because he was pressing her, yet he couldn't seem to make himself stop.

She sneezed again and immediately apologized.

He won a game and asked, “What was it like for you in the orphanage?”

“It was nice, very nice. The sisters treated us as though we were their very own children. They were strict, like I imagine parents would be, but loving too.”

“Didn't you get lonely?”

“Not very often. I had Parker to tell my secrets to when we were children. I was fortunate, and so were you because you found a family.”

“Yes, I was” he agreed.

About an hour later, he finally won another game.

“Wasn't it difficult marrying your best friend?”

“Oh, no,” she answered. “It was very nice. My husband was a wonderful man with many fine qualities. Why, there wasn't anything he couldn't do.”

Did she really believe that nonsense? From the look on her face, he thought she did, and so he didn't contradict her. In his opinion, there wasn't anything Parker
could
do.

“Yeah, I know. The man was a saint.”

Her chin came up a notch. “He was my dearest friend.”

“Which means there wasn't any passion in your bed, was there?”