You Say It First
Page 45

“He’s hinted he’s willing to sell a few horses in his stable. Rida’s the only one I’m interested in. I’ve sent a letter to the king and heard that he’ll be getting back to me in a few months. We’ll see what happens.”
“No offense, Cade, but why on earth would the king of El Bahar sell to you and not one of the other billion and, I’m guessing, rich people interested?”
“Because he likes me.”
Pallas blinked. “You’ve met him?”
“Uh-huh.”
“The king of El Bahar?”
“He was the Crown Prince then. His father stepped down when King Malik’s oldest son turned eighteen.”
Apparently her brother had quite the secret life. Of course he’d been gone close to a decade, but still. They talked regularly and texted. At no point had he felt the need to mention he’d met the soon-to-be king of El Bahar?
“Is he nice?”
“That’s not a word I’d use. He’s very commanding, but a decent guy. He was in Texas, looking at horses, and took several of us out to dinner. Our relationship is my only shot at getting Rida, but if I could, it would change everything.”
Pallas was still trying to wrap her mind around her brother’s share. “I wonder if I should look at offering harem weddings.”
“Isn’t that more of a guy’s fantasy than a woman’s idea of a good time?”
“I guess you’re right, but it’s interesting to think about. If you buy the horse, would you go to El Bahar to pick him up?”
“They’d probably bring him here and send someone along to get him settled. Not a problem I have to deal with now.”
She touched her glass to his. “Here’s hoping it becomes a problem.”
He chuckled.
She returned her attention to the mare and her foal. They looked so right together, she thought. Content to simply be on this beautiful late spring day. She and her mother had never been like that. No matter what, there had been tension. Pallas had been so eager to please, but no matter how she tried, she’d failed. Even when she’d been little.
“Do you remember much about Dad?” she asked.
“Sure. He brought me out here to ride every weekend until he died.”
Pallas didn’t recall that happening all that often, but she must be wrong. “He’s a blur to me,” she admitted. “I have flashes of things, but nothing specific.”
“I remember everything. When Mom told me he’d died, I refused to believe her. I kept telling her there had been a mistake. I had nightmares for weeks.”
Pallas wondered how she couldn’t know that. She knew that Cade had been upset, but by the time they were ten, they were living relatively different lives. She’d had her girlfriends and he’d been hanging out with the guys he knew. And he’d been gone most weekends. Riding, she thought, the past coming back to her.
“Did he stand up to Mom?” she asked.
“No, that wasn’t his way.” He frowned. “I don’t know what they saw in each other. Moving in with Grandpa Frank can’t have helped their marriage. Living with an in-law couldn’t be easy.”
“Was that his decision or hers?” she asked before adding, “Never mind. We were kids. How would we know?”
Not exactly a happy topic. She searched for a better one, then smiled.
“What did you think of Carol?”
“No.”
She looked at him. “What does that mean?”
“You’re not fixing me up with your friends. You can forget it, Pallas. I mean it.”
“That’s very forceful.”
“Hey, I have some of Mom in me, too. It’s not just all you.”
She wanted to protest that she was nothing like Libby, but figured if they went too far into those muddy waters, she would end up with hurt feelings.
“She’s nice,” Pallas told him. “And single. You both like animals.”
He sighed heavily. “And this would be you acting exactly like Mom. Give it up, kid. I’m not interested in her and she’s not interested in me.”
“Are you interested in anyone?”
“Not right now.”
“No secret longing for a girl you left back in Texas?”
“Nope.”
There was something about the way he said the single word. Maybe it was a twin thing, but she knew he was holding back. She angled toward him. “You’re lying.”
“There’s no one, I swear.”
“But?”
He groaned. “Why did you come here? I forget.”
“Cade, I’m not going to let it go.”
“Fine. I was involved with someone when I was in Kentucky. It didn’t work out.”
“Why not?”
“She was willing to sleep with the hired help but not marry him.” He held up his hand before she could respond. “I got off easy. She wasn’t the one and I’m glad I found out before I’d made a fool out of myself. Or worse, married her.”
“But you were in love with her.” Her chest hurt just thinking about it. “She hurt you.”
“Not that badly. I got over her.”
“Is she why you came back home?”
“No. She’s why I went to Texas. I came home because it seemed like a good time for a change of scene.”
“I’m here if you want to talk.”
“Thank you.”
“And I could set something up with Carol.”
He swore.
She laughed and leaned against him. “Fine. I’ll let the Carol thing go. Maybe King Malik will sell you the horse and send a pretty horse trainer with him. You two can fall madly in love and have a harem wedding at Weddings in a Box.”
“You’re a freak.”
“And yet you love me.”
“That I do.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NICK CAREFULLY MIXED the acrylic paint. He’d never been one to work with color—not this way. His wood pieces were varnished, but otherwise left natural, and with his glass, the color had been added as part of the process. Not after the fact. But papier-mâché was a whole different ball game.
He’d found the right purple, but he was still playing with the yellows and teals. So far he hadn’t found the perfect combination.
“Knock knock.”
He looked up as Violet walked in, pulling a large suitcase behind her. He rose.
“Hi. Was I expecting you?”
“No, and you can tell me you’re busy. It’s okay.” She wrinkled her nose. “I just wanted to talk about the wedding.”
“It’s canceled.”
“Yes, and yet you’re painting papier-mâché flowers for it.”
“I guess I can’t let it go.”
“Me, either.”
He motioned to the flowers. “I’m going to paint them then send them to Nova. She can use them or not.”
“That’s what I thought, too.” She lowered the suitcase to the floor and opened it. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened. I’m sad, and I decided this was how I would deal.”
The “this” was a dress. One of the bridesmaid dresses, Nick thought, staring at the garment as she pulled it out of the suitcase and laid it across his desk.
What had been a simple purple sleeveless dress—fitted through the waist, then flaring out to the floor—had been transformed. Some kind of gauzy fabric formed drapey sleeves. Beads lined the V-neck and tiny star-like decorations covered the skirt.