Epilogue
“Mail’s here,” Dutch announced. “Special delivery from Baesland-Ennsway.”
“Oh, good.” Moira dried her hands on a kitchen towel.
“Where’re the girls?”
“Katie’s watching a tape on trick riding, and Nicole’s trying on her new jods.”
“Amazing how they’re turning into two separate people, isn’t it?”
She held out her hand. “Don’t change the subject.”
He started to hand the large envelope to her, then snapped it back against his chest. “It came by courier.”
“Really?” She couldn’t imagine what warranted that. “Ooh, let me have it. Quick.”
His eyebrows rose. When she reached for it, he held it over his head, making her laugh.
“Come on, Dutch, hand it over.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s for me.”
“Yeah, right. Why would she write to you?”
“I don’t know.” He appeared to give the matter a great deal of thought, which earned him a punch in the arm. “Okay, let’s see.” He unzipped the cardboard, having to continually dodge Moira’s grasps as he did so. Inside was another envelope. “Wow, wax on the back and everything.”
“Jeez, Dutch, that’s the royal seal.”
“She never sent you anything like this.”
“Careful, I might think you like my knowing a queen.”
He popped the wax, opened the envelope and peeked in. “It’s not from her. It’s from William. Some kind of award.”
“Oh, God.” She groaned. Please don’t let it be a dukedom. She’d come all this way, chasing her own grass-is-greener ghosts. She’d found that, for her, anonymity was what she truly wanted. Becoming a duchess would be awful.
She sank into the nearest chair. Absently she twisted her strand of pearls. Chloe wouldn’t let William do this to her, would she?
“Sir Dutch Cordwin. Hey, I’ve been knighted for chivalry.”
She sighed with relief. “Well, you deserve it.”
“Scared you, though, didn’t it?”
“What’re you grinning about? You’re the one who hates royalty.”
“Well, that was before I got to know one.” He hunkered down beside her and rested his hand on her expanding belly. “Or two.”
“Wrong on both counts, cowboy. Now put that mail away before Katie and Nicole see it.”
“You still think they’re convinced we made the story up to appease a crazy man?”
Who could trust nine-year-olds to keep a secret like hers? “I do.”
“Then how come every time you serve peas for dinner, I have to scoop them out from under the mattress in the morning?”
“Because I burn them?”
He chuckled, and wrapped her more snugly in his arms. “Well, maybe. So I’m a knight, and you’re still happy being a rancher’s wife?”
She threaded her fingers through his dark hair and tugged on it playfully. “Yes, but just so you don’t go getting cocky, there’s more to my life than that. I’m Katie and Nicole’s stepmom, and my best friend happens to be my sister-in-law.”
He snapped his fingers. “That reminds me. MaryAnne wants to know if she can bring Ben to supper.”
“Sure, I’ll just throw in another pizza.”
He grimaced. “I’ll cook tonight, okay, princess? You can scoop ice cream for dessert. What kind do we have this week?”
“Fantastic Fantasy Fudge.”
“Again?”
She gazed into his eyes, something she never tired of. And not because they were the same, rich color as fudge. “It reminds me of your eyes.” She leaned forward and gave him a kiss hot enough to melt a whole gallon of ice cream. “It reminds me of you.”
“You say the girls are busy?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“How ’bout a little afternoon delight with a knight?”
“Sounds even better than ice cream. When are Ben and MaryAnne due?”
“Soon.” He grabbed her hand and headed for the stairs. “But not too soon.”