

OWEN stared at the cat sitting at his feet just inside the front door. Timbelina was whimpering---actually whimpering---and looking at him as if he needed to do something to make her world better.
He had never paid much attention to cats. They were just there, a necessary part of the ranch. But this one had caught Delfyne's attention, and she would be worried if the pregnancy didn't go according to plan. And darn it...the cat was crying! He just couldn't ignore that.
"Cat...Timbelina," he said, not even looking around to see if anyone was listening. "You are going to be the best-cared-for cat Montana has ever known, and it's not just going to be this bed Delfyne made for you. When you have those kittens, and Lydia writes Delfyne to tell her about it, I want her to hear only good things, and...I'd even send her one of your kittens so she would miss you less, but I wouldn't want to quarantine the poor little thing. Besides, Delfyne would be beside herself if she thought she was taking away one of your babies."
The cat tilted her head as if she understood. She whimpered again, and suddenly Owen's heart just hurt so much he could barely stand it. He had to get away from this terrible pain. "Stay healthy, cat," he said, as he stumbled through the screen door, letting it bounce shut behind him with a series of small bangs. And then he was practically running for...he had no idea what. Work. Working until he was ready to drop was the only way he could make it through the day.
"Owen!" Lydia's voice brought him up short. He turned.
"You can't live like this," Lydia said. "I'm worried about her. You have to call her. You love her. Don't deny it."
He wasn't about to. He would never deny Delfyne. "She's a princess, Lydia. I never told you that. I couldn't tell you while she was here. She wanted everyone to treat her like a normal person, but...now, she's marrying a prince. It's over." He turned back around.
"I know she's a princess," Lydia said, and her voice, though soft, still carried. "I know how to use that Google thing, too, and I found out. Heck, I bet just about everyone in town knew and kept the secret. Delfyne being a princess doesn't make a difference to your heart, though. Love can work miracles, Owen."
He knew that, because love had done what nothing else had ever done for him. He'd spent years thinking that the reason he hadn't been able to hold his wife or to give another woman what she needed and wanted was because he had an essential character flaw, that he was incapable of being the kind of man to love truly and deeply enough. But being with Delfyne had taught him that he could be that man who cared enough to give it all. If there was a chance in the world that he could be with her, the where would no longer matter. Montana would be just a memory if it didn't suit her. A plain wooden box of a cabin with just the basics would be enough for him if she was there with him. The crowds of the city would be all right, too. Delfyne had taught him that he wasn't flawed. His heart had just been waiting to be fully awakened, and he hadn't realized it. He could love enough to give with Delfyne, and if her situation were different...
"I know love can change things, Lydia," he said. "But this time it can't. If I tried to make her mine, I would harm her. This just isn't going to happen."
And he had darn well better get used to learning to live without her. He would do that, too. He would at least start trying to forget her.
As Lydia opened the door to go back inside, he looked at the cat. The poor animal was looking for Delfyne, wasn't it? Was Delfyne missing Timbelina, too? It occurred to him that Delfyne had had many of the things she'd loved yanked away from her. That was just wrong.
So what are you going to do about that? he asked himself. Is there anything you can do?
"Well if there is, I'm doing it," he promised himself aloud. "We'll just call it a wedding present."
Delfyne was in her room when there was a light knock on the door. She opened it to find Andreus standing there, holding a big box.
She frowned in confusion as he held the box out to her. "What's this?"
"I don't know. I just know that I received a call from Owen yesterday. He had a lot of questions. Do you have any pets? Are you practicing your self-defense moves? Are you happy?"
Delfyne's heart clenched. "Owen called and you didn't tell me? You didn't call me to the telephone?" She tried to keep the panic from her voice.
"He wouldn't let me. It was a very short conversation, but one of the servants just brought this to me. It arrived this morning, and he wasn't sure if it was all right for you to accept a package from your American, as he put it."
Anticipation and...something else, something painful, filled Delfyne's soul as she sank to her knees, holding the box. Her hands shook, and she couldn't manage to tear the tape.
"Let me," Andreus said, his voice gentle as he assisted her.
The box flaps gave way, and Delfyne reached inside. When she looked up there was a small smile on her face and tears in her eyes.
"What is it, Fyna?" Andreus said.
"Oh...wonderful stuff. Some recipes from Lydia. Photos of Timbelina and Jake and Alf and Lydia and...oh, of everyone I knew there. There's a---a note from Owen. He says that the townspeople decided that the wood-products people weren't right for the town but that they've got a new business that makes green products. And...and he says he wishes he could send me a kitten but he wasn't sure I could keep one in the castle. He says everyone misses me." Her voice dropped to a whisper, she stumbled over her words and had to stop talking.
"Is there a photo of Owen?"
She looked up at him with sad eyes as she struggled to speak. "No, but...I'm not surprised. Owen wouldn't think it was right for me to have a picture of a man when I'm marrying someone else."
"I know," he said solemnly. "That's a big box for a few photos."
She bit her lip. "That's because it's full of bracelets. Hundreds of the bracelets he knows I love," she whispered, holding up one that was made of pink and white and gold hearts strung together.
"Hearts," Andreus said. "Owen, the least demonstrative man I know, gave you hearts."
"Dré...he gave me so much more than hearts," Delfyne said, but when she looked up at Andreus and saw the worry in his eyes she shook her head. "Don't be concerned. It doesn't mean anything. It can't mean anything. You know that."
But as she sat there, hugging the box to herself after Andreus had gone, her tears fell on the heart bracelet she had tangled in her fingers. She realized that this bracelet wasn't inexpensive plastic, and there was an engraving on the back of the largest heart, the golden one. "Your happiness is all that matters," it said.
She pressed the metal to her lips and kissed it. "No, yours matters more, so I have to be strong for your sake," she whispered to the man who would never hear her words.
Someday she would send him a photo to prove she was unharmed and content, so that he would be happy...but she couldn't do that yet. She was afraid that the look in her eyes would reveal too much of the truth.
Delfyne heard her parents and Andreus whispering as she passed the library. They'd done a lot of that during the three days since her return. In times gone by, she might have at least cared what they were saying about her, but lately the answers didn't matter.
"Delfyne," her mother called. "We want to talk to you."
Delfyne entered the room. Her parents and Andreus were lined up, looking like some sort of royal inquisition. Somehow her curiosity wasn't piqued. She just couldn't care.
"What is going on with you and Arian, Delfyne?" her father asked. "I need to know what all the fuss is about."
That caught her by surprise. "Nothing," she said carefully. "I haven't made a fuss. I see him every day. I'm going to marry him just as you planned."
Her father huffed. "That's it, then, Melaina, you're right. Something's wrong."
Delfyne blinked. Her mother stepped forward and took her hands. "Something is wrong. You don't laugh with Arian. Ever. And...your father is right. The fact that you're doing just what we planned says a lot. Delfyne...you always fuss and do a few foolish things before settling in to your duty. The fact that you're not...Andreus told us that you received a package from America. Delfyne, what did that man do to you?"
There was no point in even pretending she didn't understand who "that man" was. "He let me name his cat. And...he found a horse for me that was so gentle I couldn't possibly be scared. He let me use his kitchen and he ate what I cooked and lied and told me it was good and..."
She couldn't help it. A tear ran down her cheek.
"Delfyne, you're crying," he father said. "You never cry."
"Except for the past three nights," Andreus said. "I've heard you when I pass your room."
"Oh, Delfyne, do you hate Arian so much?" her mother asked.
"No. I don't, but he...he said that I couldn't have a cat. He said he'd make sure I had lots of babies, instead. And I---oh, I don't hate him. I just don't like him very much."
"Oh, Delfyne," her mother said, taking her in her arms.
"Tell them about the self-defense lessons," Andreus said.
Delfyne blinked and Melaina released her. "Owen told you?" she asked her brother. "What else did he tell you?"
Andreus was practically seething. "He told me, and yes, he told me why. He didn't like breaking your trust, but he insisted that I screen my friends more carefully."
Delfyne's heart broke a little more. What was Owen doing now, she wondered?
"What?" she said when she realized that her father was talking to her.
"Your brother just told me that some of our guests have tried to seduce you, even forcefully," Fyodor said, bristling. "Delfyne, who were these people who tried to hurt you?"
She shook her head. "It was long ago, Father. And it wouldn't happen now. Owen made sure I could protect myself. Owen hit a man who tried to touch me and threw him off his ranch, and Owen also---"
The words wouldn't come out, her lips were trembling so.
"Delfyne," her mother said gently. "You're a princess."
"Do you think I don't know that? It's the reason I can't be with the man I love." The tears were falling harder now.
"And if you weren't a princess?" her father asked.
Delfyne wanted to say that everything would be fine, but...
"I don't know. There are lots of women who want him, and he doesn't want anyone. He's married to his ranch, and I don't think he'll ever want children after losing his son."
"So, even if you were free, he might never marry you," her mother said.
Delfyne couldn't deny that. "But I'd still love him," she whispered. "And I wouldn't dishonor that love by marrying someone I don't love or even like."
Her father smiled in that gentle way he sometimes had when he was going to say something instructive. "You've seen your sisters and Andreus follow their duties, and you know the restrictions of a royal life. But it's also a safe life in many ways. You've been shielded from the risks of an ordinary life. I wonder if you know just how painful life like that can be."
"You're right. I don't know, but...is it worse than not caring if you get up in the morning because the person you love most is far away? Is it worse than worrying about him every minute and feeling as if the years ahead of you seem empty because he won't ever be there?" she wondered. "Is it---" Her voice broke. "---is it worse than being afraid that he might get hurt and you wouldn't even have the right to go to him because you had been married off to someone else for political gain?"
A sob broke from her mother. "Fyodor!" Melaina cried. "Do something."
Delfyne went to her, her own tears streaming as she gathered her mother close. "I'm sorry, Mother. I shouldn't have said all that. Believe me, I don't want to hurt you. It serves no purpose for me to complain, because there's nothing Father can do, anyway. I am who I am, I was born to this purpose, and promises have been made. There are expectations, commitments and...centuries of history. Contracts have been signed."
The clock ticked loudly. A sadness settled over all of them. No one spoke.
"I can't," Fyodor said, holding out his hands helplessly. "The scandal...and this man you want...a man you barely know, who calls Andreus to ask about you---which is completely inappropriate in your situation---a divorced man who has already told you that he doesn't feel that he can commit to a woman..."
His words trailed off, but then he shook his head. "To send you to that...no, I can't. You're right. There's nothing I can or will do. You'll be happy with Arian, eventually."
Delfyne was expecting no less or any more than that, and this conversation was only leaving deeper wounds. She gave an almost imperceptible nod, fighting more tears as she struggled to get to the door.
"Delfyne," Andreus said. "Not yet."
"I have to have a moment," she said, her voice tear-choked and desperate. "Please."
But he didn't listen. Instead he walked up beside her. He took her hand. "There may be nothing Father can do," he said, "but you can."
She shook her head, confused.
Andreus drifted nearer. "You told me the other day that Arian said you were acting like a child. Be a child," he said. "Remember."
She turned to see her parents looking at each other.
"Vondiver," Andreus whispered loudly enough for his voice to carry.
"Oh no," Fyodor said. "That is a madman's path. There's no turning back and only utter ruination if she tries it and things fall apart."
But Delfyne was looking at her mother, and her mother wasn't cringing. "Vondiver," Delfyne said softly, referring to the child's story that had entranced her and Andreus and their siblings when they had been young and impressionable. "He gave up his crown to follow the woman he loved around the world."
"But he lost her," her mother said. "He went insane."
"Yes." Delfyne knew that. The story wasn't real, but it had been her favorite. "He lost her, anyway."
"Are you even sure he loves you?" Fyodor asked, and now his voice sounded fearful. "Don't risk this, Delfyne. Andreus, why did you even suggest this? At least she knows what she's getting with Arian."
Yes, she knew.
"And he at least will give you babies." Fyodor pressed on. "Delfyne, it's just a story. Don't be irresponsible or rash. Wait a while. We'll postpone the announcement of your engagement for three months. Then, if you decide you still can't love Arian, we'll manage to find someone more to your liking. Someone suitable."
"Or...at least call your Owen to make sure he'll have you. Yes, do that," her mother said.
But Delfyne saw the flaw in that plan. Owen would never allow Delfyne to abdicate for him. Even to ask in advance meant certain defeat.
But not to ask...to turn her back on all that she knew...
"I'll think about it," she told her parents, hugging each of them and memorizing their faces.
She went to her room and shut the door. The story of Vondiver was in her heart and on her lips and in her mind. It was all that kept the fear at bay. If she gambled and lost, she could still end up destroying Owen. She had to find some way to prevent that from happening. If he even thought that he was responsible for her fate...she was never going to let that happen. If she had to lie a thousand lies, he at least would never suffer from the acts of a headstrong princess.
That night, her mind still awhirl, she left the house. She was nearly to the car when a hand on her arm stopped her.
Delfyne whirled to see Andreus. "I shouldn't have suggested this to you," he said. "I've had time to think now and I realize what a risk it is. I love Owen, but he's hell on women. He might send you away. Your being a princess won't matter a whit to him. Delfyne, think. He might completely break your heart."
Her smile was sad. "Be happy, Dré. Help them to know that I love them and don't want to hurt them."
"Fyna, stop. Now. Really. I'll call them. They'll stop you."
She touched his cheek. "If you try to do that, I'll have to take you down. I can do that, thanks to Owen. And, Dré? I love you. If you ever feel the need to escape, just remember." She put her mouth next to his ear and whispered, "Vondiver." Then she turned.
"Wait! Fyna! What if---what if he won't marry you?"
Pain ripped through her. She was sure that her face blanched.
"I fully expect him to turn me down, Dré," she confided. "The first fifty times I show up, anyway. After that, I'm just hoping that he'll hire me so I can be near him."
Then she ran. She had no doubt that every royal guard in the palace would be right behind her.
Timbelina's tail hit Owen in the eye as he lay under the truck trying to get the damn oil filter off.
"This is no place for a pregnant mother," he told her.
She ignored him as he knew she would and sat down near his head. And the stupid filter still wouldn't come off. He let out a string of curses he almost never used and banged on the thing with the filter wrench.
"Yeah, swearing at it always works." Len's voice came from somewhere east of the truck. "And it isn't going to make Delfyne come back, either."
Owen glowered at the filter, then pulled himself from beneath the truck, washed his hands with the hose and started toward the house. He ignored Len, who was still hanging around.
"Owen, we have to talk. The men sent me."
Okay, now Owen's curiosity was piqued. He turned and saw that the usually laid-back Len had a seriously worried look on his face. "What?" he asked the young vet-to-be.
"We know you love her."
Owen glowered. "I don't." Or at least he would soon be over her. He hoped. Please, let this pain end soon.
"And we know you're in pain," Len went on. "But you're not being careful, and we're worried that you're going to get yourself killed. You nearly got kicked in the head while you were shoeing Doughnut the other day because you weren't paying enough attention. So...we took a vote and we all agree you should take a vacation."
"You took a vote," Owen said.
"Yes."
"And decided I needed a vacation."
"Owen, you were never stupid, so we can tell your heart is torn. Otherwise, you wouldn't be repeating everything I say." Len looked off somewhere to Owen's left as if he couldn't even bear to look at a man so stupid and lovesick. "Now, Delfyne..."
A dull roaring began in Owen's head. "I don't want to talk about Delfyne."
"She was something special, I know."
"I said I don't want to talk about her."
"But the thing is...about Delfyne, I mean..."
Owen didn't know how it happened. He reached out and grabbed Len by the shirt and spun him around. Rage and pain poured through him. "The thing about Delfyne is that she's gone, Len. She's gone." His voice broke.
And Len wasn't even cringing. "The thing about Delfyne," he said, his voice low, "is that I think she may be here. At least, when I looked down the road a few minutes ago there was a cab coming in. I'm pretty sure I saw Delfyne in the backseat."
Owen turned, and there at the end of his drive was a poor excuse of a cab. His heart began to thud erratically like a drummer who had forgotten how to keep time.
He told himself that Len was probably wrong. Delfyne couldn't be here. But then, the door to the car opened and a woman emerged.
For many long seconds Delfyne stared at Owen. Just...stared at him as he stared back. "Why are you treating Len that way?" she finally called.
He let go of Len and the man hit the ground, struggling to regain his footing.
Owen started moving toward Delfyne. "Why are you here?"
"Did you and Len fight? Are you okay?" Concern laced her voice. "What's wrong?"
Ten more steps toward her. "I'm fine. Len is fine. He's perfect."
Now she was moving toward him, too. "Owen, I..."
"Why are you here?" he repeated, more forcefully.
And now she seemed to falter. She bit her lip. Delfyne never did things like that. The distance between them couldn't have been more than forty feet but it felt like four hundred. Owen wanted to run to her, grab her up and carry her off.
He fought the urge. He stood as still as he possibly could, but to have given up on ever seeing her again in his life and then to have her here...a firestorm of emotions consumed him. "Delfyne, tell me what's going on," he ordered. "I have to know. Now."
She stood taller and pulled her shoulders back. If ever she had looked the consummate princess, it was in this moment. "For reasons I don't care to go into right now, I'm returning to the States," she said imperiously. "I'm looking for...accommodations, and there isn't much in the area. I'm hoping that you might do me the favor of letting me stay here and possibly work here until I can get settled."
His mind turned to a complete muddle. His heart began to rev like a race car. "Where's the prince?"
She didn't even blink, just kept that gorgeous, stubborn chin high. "I don't know. I don't care."
The joy at having her here paled beside the feeling that something was terribly wrong here. Owen frowned. "Did he hurt you? Did he...damn it, what did he do? He didn't jilt you or...or worse?"
Delfyne shook her head. "He didn't jilt me. He said I couldn't have a cat. He laughed at Timbelina's name." She started walking toward him.
Owen had no idea what she was talking about. All he knew was that she was unharmed and she had seemingly ditched a prince over a cat. "The guy's an idiot. I love that cat," he said.
For the first time she smiled, but it wasn't the totally carefree smile Owen was used to. This one had shades of uncertainty mixed in. It scared him. Petrified him. Someone or something had damaged her.
That did it. He could no longer restrain himself. He started moving toward her, too. Faster. Faster. His long strides ate up the dirt that separated them.
Finally he reached her and he stopped short. They stood there staring at each other.
"Delfyne, I want you to tell me now," he said. "Why are you here?"
"Damn, Owen, didn't you hear her?" Len asked, moving up beside Owen. "The woman wants a place to stay and here you're leaving her dangling and standing in the sun. Don't worry, Delfyne. It's not a problem at all. You can stay at my place."
No. No. No. The words echoed through Owen's mind. As if all the frustration and fear and pain of the past few days and weeks had finally boiled over, Owen whirled and swung at Len. "Like hell she will, cowboy. She's mine."
Len had put up his hands to ward off the blow, and he had barely managed to duck in time, but now he managed a slow smile as he backed away. "Okay, boss. She's yours." Then, he leaned around Owen and peered at Delfyne. "I hope you don't mind too terribly, but I'm retracting my invitation. I need this job...and my unbroken jaw, and it appears you do have a place to stay, after all." Then he winked and walked away.
Owen looked at his fist as if he had no idea what it was. He turned back to Delfyne and shook his head. "Forget you heard that. Forget I did that. I'm obviously a complete and total idiot. If you're here, then something monumental and probably scary and terrible has happened. Tell me what it is. Let me help you. For sure, the last thing you need right now is some loose-cannon cowboy like me going all Neanderthal on you and---"
"Owen, stop. Don't apologize. Just...don't. And tell me, did you mean it? Am I really...what you said? Am I yours?"
Delfyne reached out and grabbed his wrists. Her touch was electric, but tough. Maybe even desperate.
Owen looked into her eyes. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Oh, love, Delfyne, don't. I'm such a jerk." He cleared the space between them and pulled her into his arms, right up against his heart. "What did I do? Whatever it was, I made it worse, didn't I? Whatever happened, I'll fix it. I'll call someone. I'll make them take you back. I'll call Andreus and make it right. I'll go over there and fight for your rights. They can't kick you out because one prince was a bust. I'll go to battle for you, sweetheart. What do you need me to do?"
"Tell me I'm yours again," she said.
Owen's heart stopped beating completely. A tiny flicker of hope began to ignite, but he fought it. He'd been a madman for days. The fact that he'd nearly decked Len was a sure sign that he was acting crazy. He was unhinged. And if he hoped too hard now, and that hope was crushed again, he might descend into total hell, never to return.
And yet...
"You didn't really mean that, did you?" she asked. "Of course not. You were just...being you. It's that thing you do. You were just trying to protect me from Len because of what had happened in my past."
The flicker became a flame he couldn't battle. "Delfyne, I nearly knocked Len flat, and I'm not the kind of man who hits a friend. My reasons weren't even close to honorable. So, tell me now. Please. Why are you here?"
She stood looking at him with those big sad eyes. His heart just broke. "Please," he said again.
She finally nodded. "All right, I'll tell you. Remember how you told me that this ranch charmed people for the short term but in the long term it might lose its charm?"
"I remember everything."
"Owen, I love the ranch," she said, looking up at him defiantly. "I really do. But even if it loses its charm, I'm okay with that. I would have come back even if I hated this place. I just couldn't marry the prince."
He reached out and touched her cheek. "Of course you couldn't. The man didn't understand you."
"Exactly. In fact, you're the only man who's ever really understood me. I had to come tell you that. You made me realize---finally---that being who I really am doesn't mean there's something wrong with me. Even if I'm not a princess anymore. You never made me feel ashamed of being me."
There was something about her voice, about the look in her eyes, about the fact that she had left everything behind and come here in a cab that was practically falling apart. Despite the fact that he was afraid to believe what she seemed to be saying, his fear couldn't matter. At all. He wasn't the important person here now. She was. And she had just said...she'd implied...
"How can a princess just stop being a princess?"
Delfyne stood before him, defiant and beautiful and making his heart hurt just to be near her. "Most princesses can't stop being what they are, I guess, but...I did," she said. "And when I walked away, it was for good. I can't ever change my mind and go back to being a princess again, but that's all right."
Owen studied her. She stood tall and proud, but a tremor of fear still laced her voice. "I suspect there's more to the story," he said.
Her lips trembled. His heart lurched. "There is, of course. Much more, but most of it isn't all that interesting, and anyway, I don't want to talk about that now. Owen, won't you at least kiss me hello, please? I've missed you so much."
All his reservations fell away. He didn't hesitate. He didn't ask more questions. He just scooped her up against his body to cover her mouth with his own. All the desperation of the last few days flooded through him and he couldn't get enough of her. He kissed her three, four, five times.
Get hold of yourself, his brain told him. She said she wasn't marrying a prince and that she missed you and the ranch. That doesn't necessarily mean that she's staying. He should ask her a few polite questions, take it slow, get the lay of the land, see if he could be of help to her....
"Stay with me, Delfyne," he whispered against her hair. "I've gone crazy here without you. I'm driving everyone else crazy. I'm even driving the poor cat crazy, I'm so in love with you. How long can you stay?"
"Owen?" Her eyes were big and round and violet and beautiful and...his, he thought again. This tendency to be selfish and possessive had come over him and he couldn't seem to shake it.
"What?" he whispered, as he tried to capture her mouth again.
"You said you loved me."
"I know. I do. I'm mad for you. And yeah, it's probably hopeless. The royal guard is probably on the way to throw me in the dungeon right now."
"That would be very wrong of them when I love you so much, Owen." She kissed his throat, his chin, his mouth. "I came back for you, Owen. Only for you. And I'm not going back to Xenora. I called Andreus, and he's sending all my things so I can stay with you forever."
He kissed her again, then smiled against her mouth. "Then if the guards show up, I'll send them packing. If you want to stay with me, no man had better try to stop you."
"Because I'm yours," she said.
"You've got that right, Princess."
"Forever," she continued.
"At least that long," he agreed. "Marry me?"
"Oh yes," she agreed. "Yes, I demand marriage. In fact, I command you to marry me. Just try to get rid of me this time."
He laughed. "I love it when you go all royal and demanding on me."
"I'll try to remember that," she said with a grin.
"Remember this, too," he said. "You're my home now, my all. Wherever you are, I am. If you want to live somewhere else, I'm there."
"Thank you, Owen, but that's not going to happen," she said.
"All right, but if you change your mind, you tell me."
"I won't change my mind." She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Make me a rancher's wife, Owen."
"I will. And we'll have children if you like. It's time."
She touched his cheek. "You're sure?"
"Never more. I'll always love James. I'll love all our children."
"Then give me children, Owen. Little rancher children."
"Were you always this bossy?" he asked with a grin.
She shrugged. "I used to be a princess."
"And you still are. But now you're my private princess."
"That's the very best kind," Delfyne said, but Owen didn't answer. She was in his arms and all the words that mattered had been spoken.


