3

So that’s how Brodie and I got to spend the evening together. Well, until the Crown Princess Ilka called. Dessert was magnificent—I managed not to spill, and since I’d gotten to appreciate caffeine during long study nights in college, the coffee went down easy-peasy. Who cared if it kept me up all night? I had a lot to dream about sitting right now next to me. The fire burned bright and cozy, and Orca, one of the black-and-white Border collies, snoozed at our feet. Gram-Elaine’s sweet dilute calico kitty, Barbara, bread-loafed in the arm armchair next us.

There was so much about Brodie I wanted to know. The prince part. But I didn’t want to come across as some gossipy groupie or anything. I decided to move slow.

“I just had no idea ’til today my big brother had a prince for a friend.”

Brodie stretched out his long legs. I liked that his boots looked well worn, not anything city-slicker new. “Well, after he graduated, we kind of lost touch. A text once in a while. But I’ve been in L.A. since I graduated last spring, and we managed to reconnect.”

“L.A.?” My old stomping grounds. I still visited friends there once in a while, and Dad’s offices, too. Despite my major in Health Sciences, he never gave up on me someday working in the firm’s art department. “So what do you do there?”

He sipped his coffee. “I’ve been working with a non-profit co-op. We start community gardens in less-advantaged neighborhoods. I was researching what vacant lots might be available and ran into Nate.”

“Wow!” I almost spilled my cup. “God’s will for sure!”

“Karma. Serendipity. Good luck. All of the above.”

He smiled at me, but I noticed he hadn’t agreed with the God part.

“Anyway, Nate and your dad donated some empty properties right away. It’s a win-win. Builds good community relationship, cooperation. Confidence, self-reliance. The program teaches skills for raising fresh food in areas with no big supermarkets. We even help lower-income schools plant gardens. And homeowners make their parkways and side yards into gardens.” He flushed handsomely. “Now I sound like one of our brochures.”

“So what? It all sounds wonderful. Exactly something Dad would go for.” I was impressed. “What sparked your interest?”

Brodie stretched his legs even closer to the fire, and he shrugged. “I guess I’ve always been interested in sustainable agriculture. Dornfeld is so far north that our growing season is limited to a few summer weeks. It does stay light most of the time then, so growing grasses for animal fodder is easy. But year-round fruits, vegetables and herbs must be grown in greenhouses. Our natural geothermal resources power them, especially in winter when daylight is only six hours long. And while it’s not the same at all for a community garden, I think the principle is the same: use what resources you have to grow food. To help others. After all, L.A. does get lots of sun.”

“I’m happy to hear this. I love the idea of green agriculture.” My delight burst out of me. “My Aunt Chelsea is an environmental scientist. You’ll get to meet her soon.”

He smiled, but with a sigh, his shoulders slumping as though he bore the weight of the world. Or at least the weight of Dornfeld.

I went on red alert. “What’s wrong? Chelsea’s cool. In fact, the whole family is. They won’t let you down. Nobody will rat you out.”

“Oh, it’s not that.” Brodie straightened back into casual prince stature. “I look forward to meeting her and your parents, as well. It’s just…I enjoyed my time in L.A. I really believe I made at least a little difference.”

“So your program is over now?” I felt bad for him. I was starting a semester study abroad in England next month, like Chelsea did, studying Life Sciences with emphasis in Conservation and Environment. Sounded like I had things in common with Brodie after all. Related interests that had a limited time frame.

“No, not a bit.” Disappointed clouded his bright eyes. “But my parents want me back home.”

I honestly got that. He must have gobs of royal duties and charitable activities to undertake. “I understand a little, maybe. I don’t quite go along with Daddy’s wishes that I become an artist like my birth mother. So I’m minoring in art history to kind of make up for it.”

Brodie nodded. “I’m trying, too. Hence the energy cable. And my father does want me to be happy. If it’s an appropriate look for Dornfeld, that is. He’s just not on board with my interests, either. I’d like to work for a non-governmental organization in sustainable agriculture.”

A log in the fireplace broke apart with a loud crash, and we jumped. Both of us quickly looked around for embers that might have jumped the screen. “I’m guessing he’s not on board with that, either.”

Brodie shook his head.

“Maybe we should look into firefighting,” I joked.

“Maybe.” He grinned, but then it slid off his face. “And then there’s my mother. A strict traditionalist. She is not one bit happy with my latest hobby, as she calls it.”

“Hobby? Your gardens? You helped people.”

“Yes, but she feels my actions were not ‘regal’ enough. That I need to be a working royal back home, and not dig in the dirt in the States.”

I scowled. “Really? I believe royals can serve their nation regally and be hands-on in the world.”

His grin was grim. “I agree. That’s the kind of monarch my father actually wanted to be. So you’d think my father would be more understanding of me.”

“How so?” I asked, although I, the great royal watcher, should probably know this, right? “You know I’m the spare? My sister is the heir, right? Dornfeld was way ahead of the succession curve. For several generations now, the firstborn inherits the throne no matter the gender. So Ilka is the one with all the rules to follow.”

“So what happened? I mean, with your dad? Why is he so strict with you?”

“My mother, I think. It’s hard for her to buck tradition, and she has great influence although her intentions are always good. At my age, he wanted to work directly with cross-breeding our native sheep to improve their bloodlines. But he and Mother were already engaged, and she had real eeeeew moments with that.” Brodie rolled his beautiful eyes. “Even though exporting woolen textiles and designs are a huge part of our economy. Our land-locked flocks needed an infusion of new blood. She just wanted my father to throw support and money at the program, but be hands-off. Not get down and dirty with it. Kind of like motherhood. She did her best, but due to protocols and royal conventions, she had to leave our childhoods to others.”

Then Brodie’s face paled even in the glow of the fire. “Oh, Addie, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me speaking without thinking.”

I kind of understood, but wasn’t quite sure. “I don’t know what you’re sorry for.”

“Nate’s told me. How you two lost your birth mother in a plane crash. I’ve absolutely nothing to complain about. My mother loves Ilka and me dearly, and she’s wonderful. But by necessity, she’s always been so involved with the country that she’s never had much time for her traditional family life. She does want the best for us. Truly. That’s why I think she wants me back home, in Dornfeld. Concentrating my efforts and talents and interests there. Being closer by. Mothers can be quite persuasive.” Then his smile turned tender, as did the squeeze of his fingers. “I am sorry about your mother.”

“Brodie, it’s fine. Really.” I reached for his arm to assure him sure I hadn’t minded his words, but somehow, our hands found each other. I thought to pull away, but I just didn’t want to. He’d be gone soon, and I’d never have another chance. “I don’t remember her,” I told him. “Of course, Nate’s tried to keep her alive to me, but he was so little, too. And, I admit, I really missed having a mom when I started growing up. But I don’t feel any sorrow, now. Rachel’s absolutely great. I’ve called her “Mom” just forever.”

“Nate loves her, too.”

“She helped my father, as well.” I mused. “I was twelve when they met, and Daddy was still eating guilt every day. I don’t know how much Nate told you, but Daddy was piloting the plane that day. When it crashed. Nate wasn’t with us.”

Brodie’s eyes widened into dinner plates, and my words were hard to form. “I didn’t know.”

I tightened my fingers. “Daddy doesn’t remember anything, was in a coma for a while. Even when he was cleared of pilot error, it still took him a long time.”

Of course, some of the guilt dealt with the injuries I’d sustained.

“I can’t imagine. Nate never said.” Brodie whispered into the firelight, and his fingers tightened around mine.

His sympathy was real, but I didn’t really want to get into my own challenges, especially if Nate hadn’t already blabbed them. Didn’t sound as if he had, but I didn’t want to chance it. Brodie was a prince who had spent his lifetime around glorious, perfect girls. No need to remind either of us that I couldn’t compete. My brother was a safer subject.

“Nate felt survivor guilt growing up, too. After all, Daddy had just dropped him off to visit our relatives on their Idaho ranch. We were on our way home to California.” I stared into the fireplace, watching orange forests disappear into black coals. “As a kid, Nate’d say if we hadn’t taken that trip for him, the four of us would still be together.”

“Poor guy. Maybe that’s why he’s such a joker.” Brodie squeezed my fingers now. My hand sizzled all the way to my toes. He didn’t say anything else, so I was certain he didn’t know I’d sustained injuries that led to years of surgery and therapies. I wasn’t about to bring it up, now at least. Because the silence was actually growing comfortable.

“Maybe.” I already knew people recovered from grief and stress in different ways. “Daddy used to tell me and Nate that the three of us survived for good reasons.”

“I believe that to be true.” Brodie’s free hand reached out to travel an inch down my cheek. Soft, like a snowflake. Then it was all over. He pulled back. “It sounds as though you both have had two great mothers.”

Then he touched my cheek again. “I like sitting with you here, now, Addie. I wasn’t sure about—this Christmas, at first, but I am positive, now.”

I did, too. Temporary it might be. “We won’t be able to do this again. Just the two of us, I mean. The herd starts arriving tomorrow.” I joked. I moved my head because my nose itched, and I didn’t want to scratch it, and my eyeglasses bumped against his hand.

He smiled, and my heart fluttered. “I like that you wear glasses. My sister had them as a kid, but my mother soon had her in contact lenses. Then Mother ordered Lasix surgery when Ilka turned eighteen.”

“Oh,” I chuckled nervously. “I never even considered eye surgery.” Why would I? I’d had so many operations other places. “I did think about purple contacts for about ten minutes once. Purple ones because my eyes aren’t blue or green or brown. Just there.”

Beige, I suppose. Maybe taupe.

With a smile. Brodie lifted the frames. “Your eyes are beautiful, real. I love how you look. Authentic. Most girls I know get Botox and implants for graduation presents.” He scoffed.

I didn’t know how to respond, but I’d hold his words close inside me forever. However, he must be used to compliments, so I rushed on, not offering one. And stupidly giggled like a middle-schooler. I stuck to glasses. “Thanks. I have an uncomplicated prescription and take advantage of those Internet ads where you can get a million pairs for ten dollars. I have frames for every outfit, for every season.”

Tonight’s were black retro cat-eyes with rhinestone sparkles. And when he touched my hair, gentle, too, I didn’t mind that it was mostly the color of unexciting desert sand. And his finger resting on my cheek didn’t care that my blush wasn’t make-up but the real thing.

I got it. No injections, no implants. I was the farthest thing from any other females he knew. Interesting, unique. But then I knew better. “But what about Dancy Haymaker?”

He blinked quickly, as if trying to remember. But I realized it was just my quick change of subject. “I don’t really know Dancy very well. I and, uh, Freddi were visiting Dollywood, very under the radar, when Dancy’s manager found out. He thought it would be good PR for us to pair up at the CMAs. Make me more down to earth.”

“Who’s Freddi?” Could be either boy or girl.

Brodie flushed again. “He is my security agent.”

“Security agent?” Male at least. “You mean, like James Bond?”

With a loud laugh, he grazed his fingers across my cheek one last time before settling his hand in his lap. “Noooo. He’s not a spy, but he is skilled. Never shaken, never stirred. And never far away.”

I was stunned although I should have known. “Here, too?”

“Yeah. He’s undercover as a ranch hand. A day worker? Fred. Thankfully, he does know horses.”

My words stumbled. “But why wasn’t he at supper?”

When Brodie stretched a little, our shoulders touched. “Oh, we decided your grandmother’s kitchen table to be utterly safe. He figured he ought to get to know the other hands so went into town with them.”

I understood. “But in college…”

“He was undercover as another member of the fraternity. Even though he was almost thirty. He’s just got one of those convincing faces. And in public, he travels as Fredrik, my assistant or valet. He’s also a great friend.”

“My goodness.” I swallowed a gasp, so out of Brodie’s league I might as well be on another planet.

“No, Nate didn’t know then. Nor did the other fraternity brothers. It’s just how it works. Although,” he mused, “I suppose Nate might remember Fred’s face from those years ago.”

That reminded me. “Why are you here, Brodie? If your parents want you back home, isn’t Christmas the time?” I had seen online pictures of the Broders Winter Palace and capitol city Valdomar decorated within inches of their lives. The pulsating Christmas markets and Cathedral choirs.

“Yes. I suppose it is. But the palace is dark this year.” He glanced at me quick, then turned away. “We’re in mourning.”

“Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry.” Shock rolled down my back. What now? I wanted to touch his face, but…

He took my hand again. “Addie, it’s fine, truly. My father’s elderly great aunt, but thanks. My mother is motivated by tradition and royal protocol. Aunt Rithnulda passed away in September at age 103. She was long widowed, no children. Left public life years ago, make that decades ago. But she was a Princess Royal and deserving of the requisite one hundred days of mourning. Mother wastes no time, so she took Father to finalize some trade issues while official palace duties are stalled. Fortunately, the official mourning period ends December 26. Then we will all usher in the traditional twelve days of Christmas.” His face changed. “I hope my sister isn’t too miserable.”

“Was she close to, uh, Rithnulda?”

“We have a few good memories.” His grin strained across his teeth. “It’s just…Ilka is in love with a wonderful guy she met at university in Upsalla. But she’s not permitted to marry a commoner. So she’s been at the Swiss chalet of a minor royal house left over from the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Trying to fall in love with the prince my parents have picked out for her to marry.”

“An arranged marriage? That’s hard to imagine!” My mouth hung open for a second. “This is the twenty-first century.”

Brodie nodded. “Yes, I know. My parents are modern-thinking about so many things. But not royal succession. Me—” he stared back into the fire.

“What about you? Could you marry a commoner?” I blithered without thinking.

Brodie looked back at me, but not in a romantic way. I imagined he was giving practical thoughts to his future. His Los Angeles project had been railroaded into oblivion. Would he be forced to do something else he didn’t want?

“Well, I’m only twenty-two. Marriage is a ways off. But a bride of nobility is expected. Just in case, you know.” He scoffed, but his quick smile turned affectionate. “Auntie Rithnulda herself married a commoner. And a foreigner. Of course he was a war hero from Sweden, who’d saved a Dornish vessel. He passed away not long after their wedding day. But she was only fourth in line to the throne.”

He stretched his legs again. “Me, I hope to marry only for love. But one never knows.” Then he looked at me straight on. “Ilka is in love and not allowed to marry him. I feel for her. And I adore her. Sometimes I think I should help her out.”

My breath rushed. Did he mean…

“She’s hinted to me in private that she’d abdicate before she gives him up.”