Man...Mercenary...Monarch (Royally Wed) Read online

  Prince James Wyndham?

  “Hell,” he said aloud. “I’m closer to being a frog than a prince.”

  He ran one hand across his face, then sighed; a sigh that came from the very depths of his troubled soul. Exhaustion swept over him like a crushing weight, making it difficult to breathe in, then out.

  By sheer force of will, John blanked his mind and just sat on the rock in the midst of the vast land.

  Alone.

  Laura did not have an opportunity to speak privately with John during the next three days.

  Each morning, she watched out the kitchen window as John brought Jeremiah up from the cabin to one of the corrals where Mitch, or a ranch hand, would take the baby for a slow horse ride around the inside of the enclosure.

  In the evenings, John and Jeremiah joined everyone for dinner in the main house. Laura was acutely and painfully aware that John never looked directly at her during the meal, nor asked her any questions that would require her to speak to him.

  It was apparent from John’s haggard appearance that he wasn’t sleeping well. He was also extremely preoccupied, often requiring something to be repeated before he could comment.

  The minute that dinner was over, John scooped Jeremiah from his high chair, mumbled “thanks” and “good night,” and returned to the cabin with his son.

  Mid-morning of the fourth day since the Tuckers had visited The Rocking C, Laura was sitting in the living room reading a book by the fire when John suddenly appeared.

  “Laura?” He walked slowly toward her, stopping next to her chair.

  Laura looked up at him. “Hello, John.”

  “Are you busy? I thought we could go into town and get the stuff for Jeremiah’s birthday party. Tomorrow is his big day. Alex is out by the corral where Jeremiah is having his ride on a horse. Alex said she’d baby-sit Jeremiah while we’re gone.”

  “Yes, fine. I’ll go into town with you.”

  Laura placed a slip of paper in the book, closed it and got to her feet. She put the book in the chair, then moved around John.

  “I’ll get my coat and purse,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

  “How are you?” John said when Laura was halfway across the room.

  She stopped and turned to meet his gaze.

  “I’m…all right,” she said, unable to produce even a small smile. “And you? You look very tired, John.”

  “Yeah, well, I haven’t been sleeping much. I have a great deal on my mind. I feel like one of those hamsters, just chasing my thoughts around and around, not really getting anywhere, not finding any answers.”

  Laura wrapped her trembling hands over her elbows, her heart aching as she heard John’s weary, defeated tone.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said softly, “that you’re going through this turmoil. I wish I had a magic wand I could wave to give you the answers you’re seeking.”

  “There you go,” he said, smiling slightly. “We’ll check out the stores in Hope and see if there’s a magic wand anywhere.”

  “Okay,” Laura said, smiling.

  “Look,” he said, “I’m going to try like hell to leave my troubles here on The Rocking C as we drive away. Shopping for Jeremiah’s birthday party should be fun, and I sure could use a dose of fun. Deal?”

  Laura nodded. “Deal.”

  And it was fun.

  Laura fully expected that her cheeks would start to ache from the constant smile on her face. True to his word, John seemed to shed his worries and woes like removing a heavy, uncomfortable cloak. His smile and laughter were real and rich, and genuine merriment danced in the depths of his blue eyes.

  “Clowns,” he declared, as they entered the first store. “A party needs a theme, and we’ll have happy, bright-colored clowns.”

  “Great,” Laura said. “Okay, let’s see. We need a paper tablecloth, plates, cups—”

  “Balloons,” John added. “You get the paper stuff and I’ll go check out the balloons.”

  Laura laughed. “Just remember that the number of balloons you buy is the same number you have to blow up.”

  “No problem. I’ll snag Mitch to help me. He’s full of hot air half of the time anyway.”

  When Laura reached the checkout counter with the paper supplies, John was holding a sack in one hand.

  “You already bought the balloons?” she said. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to purchase everything at once?”

  John shrugged.

  “Did you get balloons to match the colors of these clowns on the paper goods?” Laura said.

  “I…um…I got the ones I wanted,” he said, not looking directly at her.

  “Okay. Whatever,” she said, frowning slightly in confusion.

  “Let’s go. Let’s go,” John said, waving one hand toward the cashier.

  “What’s the rush?”

  “The toy store is calling my name, sweet Laura.”

  “Oh, I see,” she said, laughing in delight.

  The toy store was small, but definitely had enough to offer to please John. Laura trekked behind him as he went down every aisle, examining the display.

  He selected a shiny red fire truck that made a noise like a siren when a button was pushed, an inflated clown that popped back up when it was pushed over, a jack-in-the-box and a blue ball that was bigger than the red one Jeremiah now had.

  Laura chose a soft, cuddly teddy bear that played a lullaby when a knob was turned.

  When the purchases were locked in the car, they settled into a red vinyl booth in Ruby’s Diner for lunch. They were soon consuming hamburgers, fries and thick milkshakes.

  “Delicious,” Laura said.

  “This place has been here forever,” John said, glancing around. “I don’t think they’ve changed one thing in here since they went into business.” He looked at two cowboys who slid onto stools at the counter opposite where he and Laura were sitting. “It’s a popular spot to eat.”

  “With just cause,” Laura said. “This is one of the best hamburgers I’ve ever had.”

  “Hey, Butch, did you hear the news?” one of the cowboys said to the other. “Mitch Colton up and married himself some fancy-pants princess.”

  John stiffened and narrowed his eyes, staring at the backs of the two men. Laura looked quickly at the ranch hands, then back at John.

  “Yeah, I heard,” Butch said. “He brought her to The Rocking C. Cripe, Mack, what’s a prissy princess going to do with herself all day on a working ranch? Serve tea and crumpets to the hands or something?”

  Mack said, “I bet she’s ugly as sin but has bucks, and Mitch married her for her money. That makes sense. Hell, once you turn out the lights, it doesn’t matter what she looks like if her bank account is big enough.”

  “That’s it,” John muttered. “They’re done.”

  “John, don’t,” Laura said anxiously.

  John slid out of the booth.

  “Oh, dear heaven,” Laura whispered.

  John closed the distance separating him from the two men and tapped each on the shoulder. They spun around on their stools and looked up at him.

  “Yeah? What?” Butch said.

  “Know who I am?” John said gruffly.

  “Nope, but you’re bothering me. Buzz off.”

  “The name is Colton,” John said. “John Colton of The Rocking C.”

  “Oh, hell,” Mack said. “Mitch’s brother.”

  “Got it in one,” John said, nodding. “You boys have had a lot to say about Mitch, and I didn’t like what I was hearing. Not one little bit.”

  “Hey, man,” Butch said, raising both hands, “we didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just news, you know what I mean? Mitch marrying a princess and all? I apologize if we said anything unfitting about your brother.”

  “And my sister,” John said, his voice laced with anger.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re in double trouble with your big mouths,” John said. “Mitch Colton is my brother. His wife is my sister. You don’t
have to understand it, just believe it. Nobody talks that way about my family.”

  “No problem,” Butch said, inching off the stool. “I apologize twice. Two times. You bet. Once for what I said about your brother, and another for your sister. Stay cool. We’re gone. Come on, Mack. Let’s get out of here right now.”

  “Real sorry, Mr. Colton,” Mack said, sliding past John. “Didn’t mean any harm. No, sir, surely didn’t. No, sir. ’Bye.”

  John watched the pair nearly run out of the diner, then slowly straightened the fingers that he’d curled into fists at his sides. He returned to the booth and sat down across from Laura again.

  “Well,” she said, taking a steadying breath, “that was…interesting.”

  “It was necessary,” John said, meeting her gaze.

  “Oh, I thoroughly agree,” she said quickly. “The interesting part was what you said to those two men.”

  John frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Laura reached over and placed a hand on one of John’s on the top of the table.

  “You said that you were John Colton of The Rocking C,” she said gently. “You said that Mitch was your brother and his wife was your sister. You said that nobody could talk the way they had about your family.”

  She paused, tightening her hold on John’s hand.

  “Oh, John, don’t you see? Deep down inside, you do know exactly who you are.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The sense of elation that consumed John as he heard what Laura said evaporated seconds later, causing him to knit his brows.

  “No,” he said with a sigh, “that’s not true. I still don’t know who I really am, Laura. What I said to those two jerks was just more of the same. I’m taking a little from one of my worlds, some from the other—whatever suits me at the moment. That’s not realistic. I have to choose one over the other, and I hit a brick wall every time I attempt to reach some concrete decisions.”

  “But—”

  “Enough of this topic. This trip to town is all about fun, remember? Did you get paper, bows and tape, so we can wrap Jeremiah’s gifts? I wasn’t paying attention to what all you had at the checkout in that store.”

  “Yes, I bought all that,” she said. “I have everything we need.”

  Except the answers that John was so desperately seeking, she thought. She could use several answers for herself as well.

  Such as how was she going to embrace a future without John and Jeremiah in it? How was she going to cope with the heartache and loneliness? How would she stop the tears from flowing during the long, dark hours of the endless nights ahead?

  “We have to go to the bakery,” John said, bringing Laura from her gloomy thoughts.

  “Why? I thought Betty agreed to bake Jeremiah’s birthday cake.”

  “She did, but she said they sell plastic figures at the bakery to put on the top of cakes. You know, animals, brides and grooms, that sort of stuff. I sure hope they have clowns.”

  “I’m…sure they will,” Laura said quietly. “Clowns are very popular.”

  Bride and groom figures, she thought, for the top of a wedding cake. A cake for the reception after two people in love had exchanged sacred vows to stay together until death parted them. A cake that was visible evidence of a rainbow wish that had come true.

  Laura sighed and John looked at her questioningly.

  “What’s wrong?” he said.

  “Oh…nothing. I’m full, can’t eat another bite, that’s all.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said. “They have terrific homemade pie here.”

  Laura laughed. “I’ll watch you enjoy a piece. I’m stuffed.”

  “I’ll give you a bite if you change your mind,” John said, smiling. “What’s mine is yours, ma’am.”

  Except for his heart, Laura thought dismally.

  During the return drive to The Rocking C, Laura felt as though she could actually see John putting the walls firmly back into place around him.

  He was once again shutting her out, concentrating solely on the momentous decisions he was facing.

  She could, she supposed, break the oppressive silence in the car by asking John what the important issue was that he had wanted to discuss with her. But, no, that would be a foolish, masochistic thing to do. She was convinced he wanted to propose that they continue their affair if he chose to raise Jeremiah in Wynborough.

  And if he elected to stay on The Rocking C? Oh, well, Laura, it had been great, but see you.

  No, she wouldn’t put herself through that, wouldn’t take part in that discussion. She knew the chilling truth already, certainly didn’t need to hear it all spelled out for her.

  John parked in front of the ranch house and turned off the ignition.

  “I’ll get everything out of the car later,” he said, staring out the front window of the vehicle. “I can wrap Jeremiah’s gifts after he goes to bed tonight. I appreciate your going into town with me.”

  “I enjoyed it,” Laura said quietly, reaching for the handle on the door.

  “Laura.”

  She looked over at him. “Yes?”

  “I…I just want you to know,” he said, meeting her gaze, “that I wish things were different, weren’t such a muddled mess and…Laura, I…” I love you so damn much “Thanks.”

  Laura nodded, then got out of the car and hurried into the house.

  John watched her until she disappeared from view, then smacked the steering wheel with the palm of one hand so hard, a stinging pain shot up his arm.

  “Damn it,” he said, shaking his hand.

  The birthday party was scheduled for lunchtime the next day.

  Just before noon, Laura sat on the edge of her bed, the door to her room open enough that she could hear the laughing and talking that floated down the hallway.

  She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, reaching deep within herself for the fortitude to join in the festivities with a bright smile on her face while her heart was breaking.

  Jeremiah was one year old today, she thought. Where would he be when he turned two? Then three? Four? Where would John have chosen to raise his son?

  Raise his son alone.

  Or maybe not alone at some point in the future. John might very well fall in love and marry, have a wife, a mother for Jeremiah, create more children with that woman. There was also the possibility that John Colton might choose to be James Wyndham. Or maybe he’d—

  Oh, Laura, stop, she admonished herself, pressing her fingertips to her throbbing temples. Why was she traveling down that mental road, being so cruel to herself with her own thoughts?

  Enough of this. She had a birthday party to attend for a little boy she loved as though he was her own son.

  “Smile,” she said, getting to her feet. “Even if it kills you…smile.”

  She straightened the waistband of the red sweater she wore over gray slacks, lifted her chin and marched from the room.

  When she entered the dining room, the smile that lit up her face was genuine as she was caught up immediately in the festive mood.

  Happy clowns pranced around the border of the tablecloth that was spread over the long table, and a three-layer cake with plastic clowns on top had the place of honor in the center of the table.

  John had dressed Jeremiah in red overalls and a red-and-white striped, long-sleeved shirt. The baby was toddling around the room, a party hat perched on his head. The brightly wrapped gifts were on top of the buffet against the wall.

  John was wearing a long-sleeved, dark blue Western shirt with jeans, and Laura’s party frame of mind vanished as she drank in the sight of his broad shoulders, his long, muscular legs, and his rugged features that boasted a big smile as he talked to Mitch.

  Alexandra was placing napkins and plates on the table as Betty bustled into the room carrying a huge platter of sandwiches.

  “Sandwiches, potato chips, salad, drinks,” Betty said, surveying the table. “All I need is Jeremiah’s lunch and we’re ready to roll. I’ll be ri
ght back.”

  “But where are the balloons?” Laura said, forcing a lightness to her voice as Betty left the room. “Don’t tell me that you and Mitch didn’t have enough oomph to blow them up, John.”

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Laura.

  “Mama.” Jeremiah walked to where Laura stood and flung himself at her legs. She picked him up and he patted her nose. “Mama.”

  “Hello, birthday boy,” she said, then kissed him on the cheek. She smiled at John again. “Well? The balloons? I’m waiting to hear the excuses for why they aren’t here, gentlemen.”

  “I blew them up, all of them,” John said quietly.

  Laura laughed. “And they flew away?”

  Jeremiah wiggled to get down and Laura set him on his feet. Betty returned with the baby’s lunch.

  “Party time,” the housekeeper said. “Everyone sit. Come on, Jeremiah, I’ll put you in your high chair right at the head of the table.”

  “I’ll get the balloons,” John said.

  As John left the room, Laura settled onto a chair and smiled across the table at Alex. Jeremiah pounded merrily on the high chair tray as Betty sat down next to Laura.

  “This is good practice for you, Alex,” Laura said. “You’ll be an expert at baby birthday parties by the time you need to put them on for your little one.”

  Alex laughed. “I’ve already discovered who the child will be at those parties. Mitch wanted to start this event an hour ago.”

  “Well, hey,” Mitch said, sitting down next to Alex, “why wait an entire morning on the big day? We’ll have breakfast birthday parties for our kids.”

  “Kids? Plural?” Alex paused, then nodded. “Well, sure, all right, as long as they arrive on the scene one at a time.”

  “Okay,” Mitch said. “One…two…three…four…”

  “Whoa,” Alex said, laughing.

  “Whoa,” Jeremiah yelled. “Whoa. Whoa.”

  “Thank you, Jeremiah,” Alex said. “I appreciate your support. I…Oh, my, look at those beautiful balloons. Such lovely pastel colors, just like a—”

  “Rainbow,” Laura said, her voice hushed and her heart seeming to skip a beat.