Reclaiming the Cowboy. Kathleen O'Brien
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they likely to forgive an interloper like Annabelle for lying to him, leaving him and, by doing those things, turning off all that sunlight?
She swallowed hard and tilted her face toward the sun, trying to breathe in courage. Maybe Bell River no longer had a place for her, but she must try. She needed to explain, partly because they deserved an explanation and partly because she intended to set things right. No matter how hard it was, no matter how long it took, she was going to get Mitch Garwood back.
Brave words, considering she had frozen in place, half-hidden behind the old barn and paralyzed with fear. Darn it, this wasn’t how she’d intended to start her new life. She tightened her jaw and moved her leaden legs forward, crunching the last patches of spring snow under her boots and arranging a confident smile on her lips.
Rowena was so engrossed in sorting the guests and horses she didn’t notice Annabelle until she was at the edge of the crowd. Ro glanced over, started to glance away, then did a subtle double take. Her green eyes grew very wide, but she maintained her professional composure.
That made Annabelle’s lips curve in a genuine smile. Composed and Rowena weren’t words used together very often. Or at least they hadn’t been, back then. Ro was all fire and energy, and she never had seemed to pull any punches.
Now, though, she finished pairing up the current guest with a lovely young paint, then smoothly excused herself and strode calmly to where Annabelle stood, waiting.
When she got close enough, she fisted her hands in her riding jacket’s pockets and planted her feet several inches apart. She looked Annabelle over slowly, studying every inch of her face.
Annabelle had to fight to keep from lifting her chin defensively. Whatever Rowena was going to say, she probably deserved it, and she’d take it without complaint.
Several awkward seconds passed, and then Rowena finally spoke, with that wry, throaty voice Annabelle remembered. “Well,” she said cryptically.
Annabelle took a breath. She met Rowena’s eyes. “Well?”
Rowena chuckled. “Well...well, nothing, really. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Mitch said you looked like a completely different person, but then, he’s in a major snit, so obviously he was overstating.”
A snit? Was that what Ro called Mitch’s intractable anger? That was definitely understating it a bit.
Annabelle wanted to break the awkward silence, but she hardly knew where to start. She had so much to say, so many apologies to make. She wanted to explain why she’d come, how she hoped she might be able to make Mitch understand and forgive, but how to begin?
“The red hair is a bit startling,” Rowena said, tilting her head to continue her appraisal. “But otherwise you look exactly the same. Well, not exactly, but almost. You look a little sadder, but then...why shouldn’t you? Mitch says your mother just died and your cousin is a homicidal, moneygrubbing sociopath.”
Annabelle laughed in spite of her nerves. Rowena never had been a fan of sugarcoating.
“A sociopath who tried to kill you, for God’s sake. Nearly getting murdered is enough to make anyone sad, and—” As Rowena’s words broke off, she wrinkled her nose sheepishly. “And... Oops! I’m suddenly realizing we should have this conversation somewhere more private. Come on. I’ll ditch work, and we’ll talk. I’ll make you some tea.”
She moved toward the house, but then stopped so fast that Annabelle, following closely, almost ran into her. Her feet tangled and Annabelle reached out to steady herself on Ro’s elbow. Again, she had to laugh. How could she have forgotten how mercurial, how tempestuous Rowena’s emotions were?
“Hey.” Ro smiled. “It just occurred to me. Didn’t we skip an important step?” And then, with a graceful simplicity, she held out her arms.
A hug. Such an easy thing, but everything Annabelle had hoped for was written in Rowena’s dazzling smile. Ro was offering her the embrace of friendship, of forgiveness, of understanding.
Her chest muscles relaxing in a flood of relief, and her eyes welling with tears, Annabelle simply nodded, unable to form words.
“Well, okay, then!” Rowena enveloped her in an enthusiastic bear hug that left no doubt. Whether she arrived as Annabelle or Bonnie, brunette or redhead, enigma or heiress, she was still welcome in this corner of Bell River Ranch.
When they finally pulled apart, Annabelle felt a hundred years lighter.
“Come on. Tea and talk. It’ll be like old times.” Still smiling, Rowena took her hand and headed for the house.
The big stone-and-wood two-story structure had been so thoroughly renovated Annabelle was a little disoriented at first. But Ro plowed on, up the back porch and then through the charming, busy rooms, giving Annabelle hardly enough time to take it all in.
Ro stopped for nothing. She smiled at guests but didn’t pause to chat. She waved away a dozen staffers with questions until finally they reached a newly built wing, separated from the public areas by a small hall and a door.
“Our quiet, private Garwood haven,” Ro said, putting her hand on the doorknob. “Although I’m not sure you can call a place ‘quiet’ when both Alec and a newborn live in it.”
Annabelle pulled up, shocked. “A newborn? Is it...?” She began to smile. “Oh, Ro! You and Dallas had a baby?”
Rowena laughed as she flung the door open. “Well, frankly, I think I did all the work, but yeah. We named her Moira, after my mother. Moira Rose. Rosie for short. She’s gorgeous, but she’s a pistol. She’s almost two months old now, and she’s got us all wrapped around her fussy little fingers.” She paused. “Didn’t Mitch tell you?”
Annabelle shook her head. “We didn’t talk about anything but—well, we argued, mostly.”
Rowena groaned. “Oh, Mitch. You idiot.”
“He’s so angry, Ro.” Annabelle could hear the fear in her voice. Fear that, this time, his anger might never go away. “He’s angry because I never told him the truth. Because I left him.”
“Oh, heaven spare me from Garwoods,” Rowena growled. “They are the most stubborn men on the planet. Anyone with half a brain could figure out you only left Mitch to protect him.”
Annabelle inhaled sharply, as if she could truly breathe for the first time in months. Rowena understood. Rowena loved Dallas, probably just as much as Annabelle loved Mitch. So she knew how impossible it would be to think you’d put the man you loved in danger. She knew you’d give up anything, even your chance at happiness, just to keep him safe.
“He doesn’t see it that way,” Annabelle said. “He thinks— I don’t know. He’s taking it personally, as if I underrated him. As if I didn’t see him as man enough to trust in a crisis.”
Rowena’s green eyes flashed as she thought that through. “Yeah, that sounds like Mitch. Idiot.” But her tone was affectionate. “And you’ve come back to see if you can change his mind?”
“Yes.” Annabelle was grateful Rowena made it all so easy to explain. “I’ve come to Silverdell to stay, and...if you’ll have me back, I’d like to work here, at the ranch. I’ll do anything, and I wouldn’t want any pay. I just want to be here. I’ll need chances to talk to him. To show him. And maybe I can...maybe he’ll see...”
She let the words dwindle off, realizing how naive they sounded. How half-baked this plan truly was. It wasn’t even a plan. It was the flailing of a drowning person, trying to splash her way back to shore.
But apparently the idea didn’t sound dumb to Rowena. She narrowed her sparkling eyes and nodded. “Excellent. Okay, I’ll have to think. We’ll have to see what kind of work we can find. Can you start today?”
“Today?”
“Of