Page 20 of The Forever Cowboy (Noble Ranch #1)

“You don’t need to carry me, Sterling.” Violet held up a hand to stop Sterling from scooping her into his arms and carrying her into the house.

She’d gotten back onto the sled and let him pull her to the doorstep. But now that she was on her feet again, she wanted to make her own way.

“You’re not walking.” Sterling’s tone held a familiar note of stubbornness.

Beckett and Hyacinth were watching their interaction. Beckett had already dismounted, and Hyacinth had taken off her skis when they’d reached the end of the field, since the ranch yard was a myriad of mud puddles amidst clumps of dirty snow.

Beckett raised a brow at Sterling as if to question his insistence.

Sterling glared back. “She has to stay off her ankle.”

“She has a crutch.” Beckett looked pointedly at the simple stick.

“She can use her crutch when I’m not around.”

Beckett rolled his eyes.

Sterling gave the ranch foreman an irritated look, then, before Violet could offer any more protest, he lifted her into his arms and started up the slushy path to the back door that led into the kitchen. His breath was warm against her cheek and his arms all too strong.

“I’ll be fine, Sterling,” she whispered, although weakly. Yes, she wanted to be independent, but she liked being in his arms, liked being pressed against his chest, liked the closeness of his face to hers.

“The more you can stay off your ankle, the quicker it will heal.”

Was he saying that because he wanted her to be back on her feet so he could get her out of his life? Or was he truly concerned about her well-being?

She didn’t want to ask, wanted instead to cherish each moment of closeness while it lasted. Because all too soon she would be walking again, and he would be busy with his life and no longer interested in hers.

Hyacinth opened the door for them, and as they stepped inside, Sterling stopped abruptly and swept his gaze over the destruction. The chairs had been overturned. The drawers in the hutch were on the floor, their contents spilled. Several crocks had been smashed and the wood bin upended.

A strange sense of despair sifted through Violet. All of this had happened because of her and Hyacinth. If they hadn’t sought out Sterling, he wouldn’t have to worry about taking care of her and having his home attacked. He could get back to running his ranch and saving his sick cattle.

“I’m so sorry, Sterling.” She struggled against him, suddenly needing some distance from him.

He started through the kitchen without releasing her. His expression held wariness, and his eyes were alert, as if preparing for more danger.

“Please, put me down.” She couldn’t stop the waver in her voice. “I’ve been nothing but an inconvenience to you since the moment I showed up.”

“You’re not an inconvenience.” His tone was clipped as he moved into the hallway on the other side of the kitchen.

“I’ve caused you so much trouble.”

He halted again and glanced down at her. Although his brow was furrowed, his eyes were a warm brown. “Do you want to know the truth, Violet?”

Even though her stomach quavered at the prospect of what he might say, she nodded. “Yes, please be honest.”

“I’m relieved you’re here with me.”

“You are?”

His eyes held a sincerity she’d always appreciated about him. “I don’t want you anywhere near Claude and his men. If they’re capable of doing this to me for sheltering you, then there’s no telling what else they could do, especially to you and Hyacinth.”

Violet couldn’t hold back a shudder. Sterling was right. Claude was more dangerous than she’d realized. What would the saloon owner do if Father wasn’t able to pay back his debt some other way?

“I don’t understand why Claude is so determined to have the debt repaid. Surely it must be a common occurrence to have men run out of money and be unable to pay what they owe.”

Sterling shifted to take in the dining room, which appeared untouched. “I would imagine most men can only afford to gamble a few dollars at a time, not enough to get them into trouble.”

“My father was likely gambling with much higher stakes. Maybe that’s why he stole from the bank, because he wanted more gambling money.”

“My guess is that your father owes too much for Claude to overlook.”

“You’re probably right.”

“If he lets your father get away with not paying, then not only will he lose the money, but he’ll lose his reputation and start having more problems with men placing bets they can’t afford.”

“So he has to send a message to everyone not to mess with him?”

“Exactly.” Sterling took several more steps, then paused in front of the parlor.

The intruders had been there, tipping over most of the furniture. But from what she could tell, nothing looked broken. That didn’t make up for the mess, but at least it could be picked up.

Hyacinth’s footsteps echoed in the hallway behind them, and Beckett’s heavier ones followed hers. Beckett seemed to think the living arrangement would work. But what would Mr. and Mrs. Noble think once they heard she was here?

Mr. and Mrs. Noble probably didn’t like her anymore.

Not after the way she’d hurt Sterling. They were likely relieved she’d left the high country and hoped she would never return.

Now Sterling would have to write to them and let them know that not only was she back in his life, but he’d hired her to be their housemaid.

“Your parents will hate me all the more now.”

Sterling, who had just started toward the stairs, halted. He narrowed his eyes on Violet. “My parents don’t hate you.”

She should have kept her comment to herself. But now that it was out, they may as well finish the conversation about the wedding. “Of course they hate me, Sterling. And I don’t blame them at all. I embarrassed them, caused a scandal, and ruined all of your mother’s wedding plans.”

After they’d gotten engaged, Mrs. Noble had offered to have the wedding at the ranch so they could have more space for guests.

She’d also planned a wedding dinner to take place after the ceremony.

In the couple of weeks leading up to the wedding, the dear woman had spent a great deal of time and money to prepare for the wedding as well as the dinner.

Of course, Violet had helped, and so had Mother and Hyacinth. They’d spent hours at the ranch decorating and preparing and cleaning. But the bulk of the work had fallen upon Mrs. Noble’s shoulders.

As sweet as the woman had been, how could Mrs. Noble forgive Violet for ruining so much and embarrassing her in front of all her friends?

Sterling studied Violet’s face in the dim lighting of the front hallway. “My parents don’t hate you at all, Violet. They weren’t even angry. Just sad…for me, for us, for what could have been…”

She studied his face in return, appreciating the sincerity in his eyes. “Your parents are good people, much better than my father.”

“Don’t give up hope for him. Maybe with all that’s happened, he’ll finally realize the mess he’s made of his life and yours.”

Violet could only hope so, but after the years of empty promises he’d made to Mother, how could she ever trust him again?

Sterling started up the stairs. “Since Jo-Jo’s room off the kitchen has a single bed, you and Hyacinth can stay in Scarlet’s room. The bed there is bigger.”

“I don’t know if that’s right. We’re not family.”

“It’s just a room.”

“But we’re just maids.”

Sterling expelled a long sigh. “No, you’re not just maids.”

What did he mean by that? The question almost slipped off her tongue, but she swallowed her curiosity because she was too afraid to hear what he might say.

“We’ll be fine downstairs, Sterling. Really.”

“I insist. Besides, no one else is home now, so it doesn’t matter.”

He was home, and his room was across the hall.

That mattered, didn’t it? Not that he would ever do anything to compromise her.

Sterling was an honorable man with strong self-control.

Maybe she was worrying for nothing. After all, they’d stayed together in the cabin and hadn’t had any issues. Why would they now?

He continued up the stairs, holding her as if she weighed nothing, as if he intended to carry her around forever.

She knew that wasn’t possible, but she couldn’t keep from wishing they’d had a little more time last spring to get to know each other—to become more comfortable with each other and to trust one another.

If she’d had that time, would she have married Sterling in the summer?

Or even the autumn? If she’d gone through with the wedding, she wouldn’t be in this predicament.

Instead, she’d probably be living in the house that Sterling had been planning to build on a plot of land near the main house but far enough away to give them privacy.

The blueprints had been drawn up and the money saved for the building materials, and he’d planned to have a house-raising event when the weather warmed up and the snow thawed.

Until then, they’d decided to live with his parents, and she’d assured Sterling she didn’t mind, that she was even looking forward to getting to know his mom and Scarlet better.

If she’d had a home with Sterling, Mother and Hyacinth could have stayed with her when the trouble with Father had worsened. Maybe Mother wouldn’t have gotten sick. Maybe she would even still be alive.

As Sterling started down the hallway and they passed by the bedrooms, it was clear the men had vandalized upstairs too, dumping drawers and upending more furniture.

“I’m sorry, Sterling,” she whispered again, the despair settling over her at not only the destruction now, but at how she’d destroyed the life she could have had with Sterling.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered in return.

She just hoped he was right but had the feeling that some things in life—like her relationship with Sterling—were too broken to be repaired.