The Rancher's Christmas Princess (10 page)

“A smooth, easy trip,” Rhia told her. “But a sad one. I still
can’t believe we lost Anne. It just doesn’t seem right, doesn’t even seem
possible.” In her voice was the tightness of held-back tears.

Belle felt her own tears welling in response. “No,” she
answered a little raggedly. “It doesn’t seem possible that she’s gone....”

There was a silence, a heavy one. Then Rhia asked, “So how’s
Ben doing?”

“Remarkably well. We’ve had a few rough patches. Little
tantrums. And when he gets upset, sometimes he calls for her. Slowly, though, I
know he’ll get over that. Children are so good at living in the present. And
that’s as it should be....”

“But still.” Rhia spoke in a near-whisper. “It’s another way
we’re losing her.”

“Exactly. So I try to focus on the good things. Overall, Ben is
bearing up beautifully.”

“I’m glad.” Another silence. Then Rhia said, “I understand you
went ahead to Montana to contact the father?”

“Mother told you?”

“Yes. How is that working out?”

Belle brought her sister up to speed on her trip to Montana, on
Preston and Silas and all of it so far. She did get a bit sidetracked as she
explained in detail what a fine man Preston was. But eventually she caught
herself and concluded with, “So right now, I am calling you from the McCade
Ranch near the charming small town of Elk Creek.”

“You like the father, this Preston McCade. I can hear it in
your voice when you speak of him.”

“I was that obvious?”

Rhia made a low sound of understanding. “You’re attracted to
him.”

“He’s a good man, Rhia. Trustworthy. Strong. Determined. And
intelligent, with a sense of humor.”

“Does he have a brother?”

Belle laughed. “I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, well,” Rhia teased. “If I can’t have him, I’m happy for
you.”

“I wish. But you know how it is for us.” By
us,
Belle meant herself and Rhia and their sisters,
too.

Rhia knew exactly what she was talking about. “I do, yes.” Her
voice was weary. “The grasping, selfish types can’t wait to marry a princess.
The good men always think they aren’t good
enough
.”
Belle’s sister spoke from intimate experience. Rhia rarely talked about the man
she’d always loved, not even to her sisters—and she never said his name. Belle
had no idea who the man was, but she knew the story. He was a commoner and he’d
ended their love affair because he felt he was beneath her. Since then, Rhia had
been engaged twice, but broken off those relationships before the wedding.
“There have to be other men in the world like Father, haven’t there?” Rhia tried
for lightheartedness, and only fell a little short. “There have to be a few men
who are both good
and
willing to give a princess a
chance.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.”

Rhia made a thoughtful sound. “You’re saying Preston McCade
isn’t willing?”

“I don’t think he’s ready to drop everything and move to
Montedoro. And I don’t think he would accept the idea of my moving here. “

“Did he say that?”

“Not in so many words, but my feeling is he sees me as...out of
his reach.”

“You could show him otherwise.”

It was just what she’d been longing to hear. “Oh, Rhia. Do you
think so?”

“I do. Just because it didn’t work out for me doesn’t mean it’s
hopeless for all of us—and besides, why worry now about what will happen in the
future? You only just met the man, right?”

“Right. But somehow, it feels as though I’ve known him
forever.”

“Isn’t that a good thing—that you feel an affinity with
him?”

“Yes, of course it is. I can see already that he’s going be a
good father to Ben. I’m so pleased about that.”

“I can imagine that must be a great relief—but also sad that
you won’t be bringing Ben home where we can all shower him with love and
attention.”

Belle felt a bit choked-up again. She managed a low sound of
agreement.

And Rhia asked, “How long do you plan to stay there in
Montana?”

“Through the holidays at least.”

“We’ll miss you here....”

“Miss you, too.”

“But, Belle, maybe the best thing is to give it a chance with
this rancher of yours.”

“He’s not mine.”

Rhia chuckled. “I knew you would say that.”

“Stop teasing me. I mean it.”

“All right. But listen, take it from one who knows. Sometimes
it’s true that things don’t work out, but they will never work out if you don’t
at least try. You’ll spend your life wondering what
might
have been if you’d taken a chance. And think about it. You’re
always so busy running around the world, speaking out for other people. It’s
important, the work you do. But it’s also all-consuming. When’s the last time
you went out to dinner with an attractive man?”

Belle smiled to herself. “Monday night. With Preston. We went
to The Bull’s Eye Steakhouse and Casino.”

“Sounds...rustic.”

“It was. Rustic and charming and so lovely. I had such a fine
time with him—at least I did until I finally had to tell him about Ben. Things
got difficult then, but we worked through it.”

“Belle, I know it’s been awful for you these past long weeks,
having to be there for Anne at the end.”

“I
wanted
to be there.”

“Of course you did. But that didn’t make it easy or pleasant,
having to watch your dearest friend die, arranging her funeral and then finding
out she wanted you to handle the job of tracking down Ben’s father.”

“She couldn’t do it, for some reason. But it needed doing. At
least she made herself deal with it at the end. She found a way to make it
happen.”

“Belle, I’m not blaming Anne. Honestly. I loved her, too. I’m
only saying that you really do need a little joy in your life. Before the
tragedy with Anne, you were working all the time. So now you have a few brief
weeks there in Montana, through the holidays, to help Ben and his newfound
father make a family together. If it’s going well, I’m so glad. And I want you
to enjoy every moment.”

“Dangerous advice.”

“Perhaps.”

“Definitely.”

“If there’s something between you and Preston, why not just go
with it, see where it leads you? At the very least, you might end up with a few
precious memories to treasure.”

“And what about a broken heart? I could also end up with
that.”

“Yes, you could,” Rhia agreed. “But that’s always the risk,
isn’t it, when you take a chance on something important? On the other hand, you
could
not
take a chance. You won’t get hurt that
way. But you’ll never find the kind of love that lasts a lifetime either.”

Chapter Eight

I
n the early morning, Belle woke to the
sound of Ben fussing in the room next door. She pushed back the covers, pulled
on her robe and went to him.

Charlotte, fully dressed in the same clothes she’d worn the day
before, was already there and lifting him out of the crib. “It’s all right,
darling.” She sent Belle a glowing smile. “I’ll take him down with me.”

“Shar-Shar.” Ben sighed and leaned his head on Charlotte’s
shoulder. He waved at Belle in that special way of waving he had—opening and
closing his small fist.

She waved back, her heart melting just at the sight of him.
“Good morning, my darling.”

Charlotte carried him to the changing table, laid him down and
unsnapped his pajamas. “Let’s get you a fresh diaper first of all, shall we,
young man?”

“Yes!”

She hummed under her breath, an old French lullaby, as she
changed him. Belle, leaning sleepily in the doorway, thought that her friend had
never looked prettier. Or younger. Or quite so happy.

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder again. “Go on. Have your
shower. That painter fellow will be arriving before you know it.”

“Right.” Belle covered a yawn and turned for the bathroom
across the hall. The door to Charlotte’s room stood open. Belle glanced in
there. The bed was neatly made, the lavender wool scarf tossed across the foot
of it, in the same place it had been the night before.

Belle grinned to herself. Had Charlotte slept in that bed last
night? Belle’s guess was no.

Apparently, Charlotte was the brave one, finally taking a
chance on love. Risking her heart. Or maybe just collecting a few precious
memories to treasure, as Rhia had suggested Belle ought to do.

* * *

Belle thought about her sister’s advice several times
that day as she and Preston, Marcus in their wake, went from store to store in
Missoula, ordering blinds and curtains, buying linens for Ben’s bed and a new
rug, bright blue with an airplane motif. All the stores were decorated for the
holidays. Christmas tunes played everywhere they went. It was quite festive, she
thought. They stopped in at a toy store and a kids’ clothing store and got a
head start on Ben’s Christmas gifts, too.

For lunch, they found a little restaurant there in Missoula
that served barbecue. Marcus took a seat at the counter, out of the way. And it
was almost as if she and Preston were all alone. She gazed at him across the
table and thought how she really wasn’t up for a holiday fling. She felt more
than a little fragile, with the loss of Anne, and with the day drawing near when
she would have to say goodbye to Ben.

She did not want to get her heart broken any more than it
already was.

But even if she never felt Preston’s strong arms around her
again, this day was special. Marcus was so skilled at playing invisible that it
did feel like it was just the two of them, sharing barbecue and tall, frosty
glasses of root beer, talking about their purchases, about whether the snow
would hold off long enough for them to get back to the ranch. This simple lunch,
this whole wonderfully ordinary day of being together, it all definitely
qualified as a memory to treasure.

And she would. She would treasure it. For all of her life.

On the way back, they stopped in at the paint store in Elk
Creek. They traded in the Winnie-the-Pooh mural kit for one of a train rolling
along a track in a country setting, an airplane flying by in the clouds above.
It was snowing as they headed for the ranch. They made it into the yard before
it really started coming down thick and heavy.

Inside, there was a large, wonderful-smelling pot of stew on
the stove and Doris was just leaving. Preston paid the painter, Richard Gibbons,
for his day’s work and showed him the mural kit. Richard said he could put it
up, no problem. He would be back in the morning to take care of it.

Ben was still napping and Charlotte and Silas were hard at work
on the house-decorating project. They had actually finished the tree, which was
so beautiful, thick with lights and sparkly ornaments, draped in red bead
garland and thousands of silvery icicles. No, they hadn’t gotten around to
putting up the outside lights yet, but they had arranged cute snow scenes on the
mantels in the family room and the front room and put up a manger scene on a
long shelf in the foyer. The two looked quite proud of themselves. Charlotte was
pink-cheeked and blushing. And Silas couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her.

Belle observed the two fondly and more than a little wistfully.
But then she asked herself again where it could go with her and Preston
anyway?

He was an American, a horse rancher to the core. And she had a
rich life, a full life, as a princess of Montedoro, as a spokesperson and
fundraiser for causes that needed a strong, determined voice. They had nothing
in common but a small boy who had lost his mother.

Or so she was constantly reminding herself.

That night, after Ben was in bed, Marcus retired to his room.
The other four adults watched a Western and then a comedy on the big-screen TV
in the family room. Belle went up to bed—alone—at a little after eleven. She
called her mother in Montedoro just to bring her up to speed on her progress
uniting Ben with his father.

Her mother was fond with her, and gentle. She didn’t ask a lot
of questions. That had never been Her Sovereign Highness’s way. But Belle always
hung up from a conversation with her feeling loved and accepted and
unequivocally supported in any decision she might make, any action she might
choose to take.

Friday when Belle got up, the McCade men were already out with
the horses and had been for hours. Richard Gibbons arrived at a little after
eight and went to work on the mural up in Ben’s room. Doris arrived at nine and
started making Christmas cookies. Charlotte and Belle pitched in. They even got
Ben involved, rolling out a bit of dough for him and helping him press the
cookie cutter to make a cookie snowman and a star.

The painter finished the mural at around eleven. Belle thanked
him and paid him for the day. Later, after lunch, when Ben went down for his
nap, Doris said she’d keep an eye on him. Charlotte, Belle and Marcus got to
work putting up the outside lights. They were at it for about an hour when
Preston and Silas appeared and pitched in.

Belle went in to get Ben up at a little after three. She
bundled him into his warmest clothes and took him outside, where the others were
just finishing up. They’d dragged the two tall ladders around the yard,
stringing lights on not only the main house, but Silas’s place and the hands’
cabin as well. They even wound lights up the wide trunk of the giant pine in the
center of the driveway.

“We’ll be lucky we don’t blow all the circuits when we turn all
these babies on,” Silas warned, looking way too excited at the prospect.

Charlotte chided, “Then perhaps we shouldn’t have strung up so
many.”

Preston laughed and told them all not to worry. He’d had a
bigger breaker box put in a couple of years ago and he was sure it could handle
the extra load. He also had spare timers from the system he used in the stables,
so he hooked up the outdoor lights to come on about dark and go off at
midnight.

The lights came on at five. They all went back outside then and
stood in the middle of the yard and admired their handiwork.

“Glorious,” declared Charlotte.

“Mighty fine,” Silas agreed, putting his arm around her.

Charlotte basked in the moment, gazing up at Silas with stars
in her eyes. Belle could almost envy the two of them.

They seemed so very happy together.

* * *

That night was like the nights before it. Belle and
Preston put Ben to bed as a team. Belle went upstairs to her room at around
eleven. She heard Preston come up a little while later.

If Charlotte came up after that, Belle didn’t hear her.

The next day was Saturday, and that meant the Christmas Craft
Fair in town. The McCade men were out working early, but they came in at a
little after ten. So did Vince and Jack. They wanted to go into town for the
festivities, too.

By eleven, they were on their way, Vince and Jack in Jack’s
pickup, Marcus in the SUV with Charlotte and Silas in the backseat. Belle,
Preston and Ben rode in Preston’s four-door truck.

It was a great day, Belle thought. There was more going on than
she had realized. The town hall was filled upstairs and down with craft and food
booths. There apparently wasn’t enough room for all of the booths in that one
building. The overflow took up the main floor of the Masonic Hall down at the
far end of Main Street.

After they toured the town hall upstairs and down, they went to
the diner to grab a late lunch. That took a while. The Sweet Stop was packed
that day. But eventually, they all got a booth together—minus Jack and Vince,
who had taken off on their own. They had sandwiches and hot chocolate. Ben was
adorable and not the least fussy. Belle dared to hope he might last into the
evening without getting too worn out. They might even make it to the talent show
and bake sale auction that would start at seven in the historic Elk Creek
Theater.

Already, Ben was so easy and comfortable with Preston. The
little boy spent much of the day in his father’s arms, or with Preston pushing
his stroller. As they admired handmade Christmas decorations in the Masonic
Hall, Betsy Colson from the hardware store appeared.

“Why, Preston,” Betsy declared. “That little boy looks exactly
like you.”

Preston beamed. “So I’ve been told.” And Ben hugged him close
and buried his face against Preston’s neck the way he would do with Belle or
Charlotte when strangers had him feeling shy.

The sight had Belle smiling through misty eyes. Already, Ben
felt safe with Preston. It had happened so swiftly—more swiftly and more easily
than she had ever imagined it could. And that meant there would be no need for
her to remain in Montana past the first of the year. All too soon, her time in
Elk Creek would be ending.

“Nice to see you, Your Highness,” said Betsy.

Belle put on a big smile. “It’s lovely to see you, too,
Betsy.”

By six, Ben was fast asleep in his stroller. He’d dropped off
without a peep. People said how adorable he was, sleeping like an angel.

Preston pushed the stroller back up Main, Belle at his side,
Silas and Charlotte right behind them, Marcus taking up the rear.

“Look,” said Silas, “they’ve got the theater doors open.”

Preston asked Belle, “What do you think?” He was a fast
learner. He knew already that toddlers lasted only so long before you had to
take them home and tuck them into bed.

“We could go in,” she suggested. “If he wakes up and starts
fussing, we’ll just have to leave.”

“All right, then,” he agreed.

She met those blue eyes and she felt downright breathless. He
really did have a powerful effect on her senses. One would think she would grow
accustomed to being near him.

But so far, just meeting his eyes, smelling that fresh, bracing
aftershave he wore...it never failed to make her breath catch and her belly fill
with frantic butterflies.

He tipped his hat at an elderly couple as they approached going
the other way.

“Preston,” said the white-haired woman. “Silas, hello.”

“Mary Beth, John, how’re you doing?” asked Silas.

They all paused right there on the sidewalk. Silas made the
introductions. The couple’s last name was Deluca.

John said, “Delighted to meet you ladies.”

Mary Beth declared that Ben was “Quite a handsome child.” She
also remarked that it had been much too long since she’d seen the McCade men at
Sunday Mass.

Preston sent Belle a wry look and replied, “Well, Mary Beth, it
just so happens we’ll be attending nine o’clock Mass tomorrow morning.”

“Excellent,” replied Mary Beth. “We will see you there.” The
Delucas moved on.

There were a lot of people filing in the wide-open double doors
of the old theater. And by then, Silas and Marcus had their arms full of
purchases. Charlotte and Belle each carried a couple of shopping bags. It seemed
pointless to haul everything into the crowded theater with them.

Belle suggested, “Why don’t Marcus and I take all the shopping
bags to the SUV? We’ll meet you inside.”

Nobody argued. Silas and Charlotte handed over their purchases
and Preston gave her the big bag he’d hooked to the stroller handle.

The SUV was in the lot next to the diner. It didn’t take long
to stow all the bags in the back.

Belle and Marcus entered the lobby of the Elk Creek Theater
only a few minutes after they’d left the others. It was wall-to-wall people
inside. Tables lined the walls, covered with red-and-green cloths and all manner
of tempting baked goods, each with a little card in front of it that described
the item and announced who had baked it. There were pies, cakes, cookies and
cupcakes. All of it looked good.

The crowd was noisy, everyone chatting and laughing.

Larry Seabuck from the Drop On Inn appeared at Belle’s side.
“Ma’am, how are you doing?”

She gave him a careful smile. He tended to fawn over her and it
made her uncomfortable. “Hello, Larry. I’m doing quite well, thank you.”

He leaned a little too close. “The idea, ma’am, is that
everyone gets a good look before the auction starts. Ahem. People decide what
they want to win. Men make sure of which pie or cake the wife or the sweetheart
made with her own little hands. It gets the competition going when the bidding
starts. And more competition means more money for this year’s worthy cause—which
I see by that big banner on the wall by the door, is the old theater itself this
time. Ahem.” His wire-rimmed glasses had slipped down his nose. He pushed them
back up. “I believe they want to put in a new sound system and replace some of
the seating.”