Wyoming Brave (Wyoming Men #6)

She wondered if he had an ulterior motive for asking her to go to the party with him. That woman, Angie, was going to be there. He wouldn’t want to go alone, especially after the vicious things she’d said about him. His pride wouldn’t have let him.

On the other hand, Merrie would make sure that stupid woman didn’t hurt him again. She was going to protect him, whether or not she had the right.

*

SHE’D BEEN CERTAIN that Ren would never want to take her out on the ranch again, not after she’d gotten lost and had everyone in an uproar. But the next morning, he made sure Delsey drove her into town to get a warmer coat and some proper boots. And, of course, the evening gown they’d discussed. Odd, she thought he’d mentioned having Tubbs drive them when he’d spoken of it. But it was just Merrie and Delsey.

“He doesn’t have to buy me things,” Merrie protested when they were in one of the ranch’s big SUVs, headed toward Catelow.

Delsey chuckled. “No, he doesn’t. But it’s his money, isn’t it? Let him spend it, if he wants to.” She glanced at her young companion. “It’s been a long time since Ren was concerned about the well-being of a woman.”

“Did he love that other woman, the one who cheated on him?” she asked quietly.

“He thought he did,” she agreed. “But it wasn’t love. He bought her things because she asked for them, and she’d worked him up until he was crazy to have her. That isn’t the same as what he’s doing now.” She turned her head toward Merrie. “He’s concerned about you, about keeping you warm and safe. Never would have occurred to him to feel protective about that she-cat.”

“Oh.” She felt unsettled. She shifted restlessly in her seat. “He’s a very masculine man,” she said. “I feel safe when I’m with him. But he needs looking after, too,” she added softly. “He doesn’t take care of himself.”

Delsey didn’t say a word. Her expression did, but she was careful not to let Merrie see it. Both of them were nurturing people, with the right partners. Delsey was sure that there were happier times ahead for them both. But she wasn’t going to comment on it, and risk alienating the sweet young woman in the vehicle with her.

“Is it much farther?” Merrie asked as they wound around through the lodgepole pines.

“Just up ahead,” she said.

And there was Catelow, covered in snow, looking like any small town in any northern state in the country. Except there were huge jagged mountains in the distance, their sharp peaks covered with snow. It was a perfect setting. There were houses dotted around in the outskirts, and a beautiful church with a tall spire, looking right at home there.

“The church is beautiful,” Merrie noted.

“Isn’t it?” she agreed. “It’s the Methodist church. I was baptized there when I was just a child. So were both my parents. Mr. Ren’s father and mother went there when he was very small.” She made a face. “That fancy college ruined him,” she muttered. “He came out of it not knowing who he was anymore.”

“Sometimes that happens,” she agreed. “Not my sister, though.” She smiled. “Sari had ideals and beliefs that dynamite couldn’t budge. We went to the Methodist church from the time we were toddlers. When people made fun of Sari in college, she just told them exactly what she thought. Even if they didn’t agree with her, they respected her for standing up for what she believed.”

“Rare courage, in this day and time,” Delsey said sadly.

“Do they have Christmas parades here?” she wondered aloud.

She chuckled. “Catelow hasn’t changed much in the past hundred years, and I don’t think it ever will. Yes, we have parades. We have decorations. We have Christmas trees everywhere, and Santa Claus appears at the local department store to see the children every December.”

“That sounds like home,” Merrie said. “We live in Comanche Wells, which is tiny. But Jacobsville, down the road, is our county seat, and we have beautiful decorations every year for Christmas. Parades and parties and caroling. Some people dress up like they did back in Charles Dickens’s day in the oldest part of town, and tourists come from miles around to see them. We have decorations crisscrossing the street. It’s magic.” She sighed. “We have a nine-foot tree every year at the house,” she added. “Daddy was never home at Christmas, which meant we could celebrate it. Mandy had the cowboys put us up a tree and we decorated it and gave each other little presents. I learned to knit so that I could have things to give.” She grimaced. “Daddy wouldn’t even let us have an allowance, or work part-time to earn money.”

“Your father doesn’t sound very nice.”

“He was terrifying,” Merrie confessed. “I wish we’d had a father like other people do, one who loved us and wanted to do things with us.” She leaned her head back against the seat. “When he died, we were sorry, but it was like being set free from prison.”

“I’m sorry it was so hard for you.”

She smiled. “You’re the nicest person, Delsey,” she said sincerely.

*

Diana Palmer's books