My Bad Boy's Secret: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (84 page)

Chapter One

Caitlin’s horse was almost completely lame as they both limped into the small town. She was sure she must look an absolute sight, dressed in men’s clothes and now covered in dust and grime to boot. “Well Monty, I wonder if our welcome will be any warmer here?” She scratched his nose, and lent down to feel his foreleg. It was hot and throbbing. She would need a poultice on it soon, before he lost the ability to walk altogether. She threw his reins over the hitching post, and took a deep breath before she entered into the brightly lit Saloon bar.

“Please, can you help me?” she asked politely as she marched nervously up to the bar. She had found that few people looked closely at your features if you spoke and carried yourself with confidence as she had entered Saloons and Hotels on her long journey across the country. But, the appearance of the regulars in this particular Saloon did not fill her with confidence that as a woman alone she would find a warm welcome. Many wore guns slung casually at their waists, some chewed tobacco and stared as she passed. One even spat a wad of the foul smelling herb out at her feet as she passed. All were unshaven and rough looking. She didn’t want to stay any longer than she had to, but Monty needed help. She needed him to get to the next town, because she certainly didn’t want to remain here – but he would never make it.

The bar keep looked at her suspiciously. “Ma’am,” he said as he tipped his hat and leant closer to her. He stank of stale whiskey and cigar smoke. It wasn’t pleasant. She wanted to lean away, but steeled herself to ask for what she needed.

“My horse is almost lame. I need to make a poultice of onion, white willow bark, pepper or wintergreen should you have any,” she stammered. He laughed loudly, saliva spraying over her face.

“I sell liquor, am not an apothecary. You want my help, you spend your money on some whiskey,” he said as he slammed a bottle of a cloudy looking brownish liquid onto the bar. Caitlin shuddered. The bottle was filthy, and the liquid within it didn’t look like it would do her insides any favours.

“I don’t drink,” she said boldly, knowing it would annoy him and make him even less likely to help but there was a small bit of her that was fed up of men treating her as if she was some kind of a fool. She was just as deserving of help as any man, could ride better than many and knew there was little any man could do that she couldn’t. She was also sure she could drink as well as any man too if she wanted to – but why should she have to drink such foul tasting liquor to prove her place? “So, I’ll pass. But is there anybody here that might help me?”

She turned and looked at the men sat lounging at the tables pretending not to listen, though she knew that they were taking in every word. Nobody said a thing. They just stared at her as if she were an exhibit in the zoological gardens. She felt utterly deflated. She had believed that even if men in the West didn’t care for one another, they did at least care for their mounts. She turned and made her way towards the door.

“I can’t provide what you need for your poultice, but I may be able to help,” a bookish looking man, wearing round, wire-rimmed spectacles perched on his narrow nose said as he edged cautiously towards her through the more rugged looking men around him. He was half the size of the smallest of the other patrons, but there was something about him that was oddly magnetic. He was good looking, in an indoors way, with a shock of unruly curls that had clearly not seen a comb in many years but it suited him. He wore a suit, though his buttons were done up in a higgledy piggledy way, making him appear rumpled and as if he had dressed in a hurry. His air of nonchalance about his appearance was strangely reassuring.

Caitlin had never been particularly concerned by her own looks, though many had often commented kindly on them. She had vivid auburn hair, that shone like copper in the sunlight and a trim and healthy body with a waist a man could span with his hands. But compliments on her womanly attributes had so often been undermined soon after, by criticisms of her behaviour. It would seem that a woman born into good looks and a fine figure had a duty to be elegant and well-mannered. Heaven forbid that she should enjoy riding, hunting, gardening and even helping out in her family’s stables amongst the dirt and dung.

She had taken such a risk leaving her home and everything that she had grown up into, but when her parents had passed away, leaving all in the hands of her traditionally strict and staid brother except a small pension and a lump sum that was intended to be used as her dowry, she had decided that it was time to take that chance. Everyone said that there were such opportunities in the West. That women had more freedoms here and she had gathered every story she could find to give herself encouragement to do so too. She craved that with all her heart and she had known that she would never be able to continue to live under her brother’s roof without breaking every one of his rules for her, every single day.

“Thank you,” she said to this unusual man, grateful that even here there was somebody who was good enough to care. She led him outside to where Monty stood looking a little sorry for himself.

“He’s a good looking horse,” the stranger said. “Have you been travelling far?” His voice sounded concerned for her. It almost made her cry and she had to choke back the sob that threatened to escape her lips. She was so very tired, and longed to rest somewhere, to be welcomed by someone.

“We have ridden through three States Sir, once we left the train in Kentucky” she admitted. “We’ve been trying to find a home, somewhere that a woman can farm in her own right. I thought that people here may be more open to that sort of thing, but it would seem that in Tennessee, Arkansas, and Oklahoma that they still prefer a little lady to be just that.” She tried to force a smile, to try and show this man that it didn’t matter to her one bit. But it did, and she was beginning to think that her brother was right, and that all the newspaper stories were just pretty fictions to entertain city folk who would never venture far enough to find out it simply wasn’t true.

“That is quite a goal,” the stranger said with an admiring look in his eyes. Caitlin could have kissed him for not dismissing her dreams out of hand. “I have been out West for some time now, and I know of only one place, even here, where you may find such tolerance. If you ride for another fifteen miles or so, just head northeast along that road there,” he pointed to the other road that led out of the small town to the one she had ridden in on. “Then you will find Stephenville,” he said encouragingly. “We have some feisty women indeed there!” he chuckled.

Now he was standing next to her, she could look at him properly. He removed his spectacles, and tucked a note book carefully into his pocket. He had gentle brown eyes, and a smooth complexion. Though he was slight, she could tell there was a wiry strength and resilience of character in him. She wondered what a man like this was doing in such a place, but didn’t dare to ask. His face was kind, and he had a quiet confidence that made her believe that he would be a good friend, and a staunch support in a crisis. He clearly hadn’t minded one bit what any of the tougher, even more dangerous, looking men in the Saloon thought of him for being different.

“My name is Caitlin Macgregor,” she said as she stuck her hand out in front of her. He gave her a lopsided smile at the manly greeting. It made him look entirely endearing. He took her hand and shook it firmly.

“Albert Dalligan,” he said. “Now, may I?” he asked indicating Monty’s leg. She nodded. Tenderly he took the poor beast’s leg in his hands, and she could see him feeling along the length carefully. “Just a small strain, he’ll be right as rain in a couple of days with the right care.”

“I had thought as much. But, where do I find such care? It would certainly seem that nobody here will help, present company excepted of course.”

“Of course,” he repeated, a twinkle in his deep blue eyes. “I have business to undertake here over the next week or so. Why not borrow my horse to get you as far as Stephenville. You will find a warmer welcome there I am certain of it. I shall be back there very soon. Monty will be well by thte time I return and you can either choose to stay where you are, or move on to somewhere else.”

“Sir, you are too kind,” Caitlin said overwhelmed. It had been so long since she had heard a kindly voice – let alone been offered such charity. Her journey had been a long and lonely one. “Your charity is too much for me to accept. How do you know I am not a horse thief?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Looking at this fine beast, I would be getting much the better deal as you will see when you meet my poor old Gamling – even if Monty here is lame!” He whipped out his notebook once more, and quickly scribbled a few lines on one of the pages. She stared at his long, tapering fingers, at the ink stains on the calluses where he held the pencil. They were strong fingers, gentle hands she was sure. Ripping it out, he looked her deep in the eyes. “Take this to Mariette Williams. She will find you somewhere to stay. I am the schoolmaster, and Annie’s house is empty now – it should do you nicely until you decide what to do next.”

“Annie? Mariette? ”

“Annie is the School Mistress, has just married and so her home is no longer occupied. Mariette is the beating heart of our town. Nothing happens that she doesn’t know about it. She’ll help you,” he said earnestly. “Owns a ranch herself with her husband, and she is the outright owner and editor of our local newspaper. She is quite the law unto herself. Made all her money dressed as a man,” he said as he looked her up and down appraisingly. Caitlin had the strangest feeling that despite the practicality of her buckskins, he liked what he saw. He seemed to linger on her curves, and blushed a little as he looked back at her face. “She’ll be glad to have another young woman just like her,” he finished a little lamely.

“Thank you Mr Dalligan. If you are truly sure that you wouldn’t mind waiting here with Monty until he is well enough, I shall be glad to take Gamling home for you. If Stephenville truly is the place you believe it to be, this could turn out to be the most serendipitous moment of my life so far. All I have dreamed of, for my entire life, is a place where I can be myself. Where I do not have to take a husband, to become some downtrodden wife, and to run my own land the way I want to.” She could feel her heart lifting, filling with the hope that had buoyed her to take such a gamble in the first place. And, if it meant being neighbours with this delightful young man, with the gentle smile and ink-stained fingers it may well be a home she could enjoy very much indeed.

Chapter Two

Albert had found it hard to banish thoughts of the delightful Miss Macgregor from his mind as he had finished his meetings with the churchmen, and senior men of Dublin. He had never met anyone who had so vehemently and so clearly stated their dreams to him before, and he couldn’t deny that her certainty that she needed or wanted no husband was right up there plaguing his thoughts. He had been beguiled, besotted and bewildered by her from the very first moment she had entered the Saloon.

His distraction had not gone unnoticed. His colleagues had chided him about his being on another planet, but he hoped he had managed to convince them it was because his head was full of plans for their town, and those all around the entire area. These people had seen the progress that his little school in Stephenville had made, and wanted to set up their own – why not set up schools everywhere? They had been happy to take his advice on what they would need, and had even asked him to help them to find a new school master and mistress for them and had encouraged him with his plans for expansion and pledged their support. Happy he had helped them to employ suitable candidates for the positions, and knowing he could call on them if he needed to he was glad to be on his way back home.

The ride allowed Caitlin to permeate his mind completely. He would never forget the defiant jut of her strong jaw as she stood in the Saloon requesting someone’s assistance. Even here he knew of only three women who would have the courage to walk into a bar full of tough ranchers, cowboys and even the odd outlaw and bandit and be so forthright. The travel-stained buckskins had done little to disguise the pert and full figure underneath. She was tall, and athletic and he had found her intoxicating. When she spoke she was forthright, direct. Had no trouble in expressing her needs and wants, and though her words had almost broken his heart, he admired her for being so very bold.

She would probably never give such a soul as him a second look even if she were ever to change her mind and look for a partner, though he thought she was possibly the most perfect creature he had ever seen. But he would be no use on the land, and she seemed to have her heart set upon it. Oh, he could find you a book and tell you the theoretical basis of any activity known to man – but actually do them? Albert knew he was the indoors type. He could barely fix a shelf. But, he hoped that she would come to know that the skills he did possess could be of use to her even still. As a man who enjoyed reading, and learning he had spent a lot of time in many different endeavours before he had settled in Stephenville as their School Master. His favourite position had been with a kindly doctor in Fort Worth. He had been treated as an apprentice of sorts, and assisted the learned man in treating both humans and animals. He hoped that Caitlin would be impressed with how well Monty had healed from his sprain under Albert’s ministrations.

He rode the magnificent bay down the High Street of Stephenville, enjoying the admiring glances of his neighbours. “New horse Mr Dalligan?” Caleb Green called as he passed the hardware store.

“Sadly he is not mine, he is a fine beast isn’t he? How are you and Melissa getting along?” he asked

“Very well, just been sent here by my lovely wife to get some new blankets, it would appear that ours are not warm enough for her with the weather on the turn as it has been,” he said with a chuckle. Albert thought it likely that she needed them to keep her warm as she raced around the county in search of stories for the newspaper. She was getting quite a reputation for the quality of her reporting, and especially the risks she took in order to get her stories. She knew that there were many evenings when the Green household was empty, as she camped out wherever she needed to and he cared for his herds.

“Glad things are working so well for you both,” he admitted. They made a good couple. Both were strong minded, and seemed to fit perfectly. “Have you met Miss Macgregor?” he asked, wondering if Caitlin had chosen to stay.

“Indeed. Mariette took her under her wing, as I am sure you intended my friend, and insisted we all come and meet her at a supper party two days ago. She had hoped you would be back in time, but felt Caitlin needed to meet us all to ensure she stays. You know Mariette, once she decides she likes you, she’ll do anything to ensure she keeps you nearby!” The two men chuckled, but it was true.  “She’s still at Annie’s old place, but will be moving very soon. From what Melissa told me she will be buying the Smith place, or she will if Mariette gets her way.”

“Good I’m glad she has been made welcome.”

Albert rode on, finally dismounting outside the small cottage that had been built for the purposes of the School Mistress, whoever she may be. He knocked on the door smartly and waited patiently. “Coming,” a voice called. It sounded like it was coming from the tiny garden at the rear of the house. He walked around the back, Caitlin was trying to brush off mud from her trousers frantically.

“You don’t need to clean up for me,” he grinned. Her face lit up when she saw him.

“Oh, Mr Dalligan you are here at last! Please forgive me, I got quite carried away with the weeding.”

“I can see,” he smiled. “You missed a bit.” She looked a little confused at his words, staring at her clothes first, and then at the immaculately tended flower beds. Other than the damp stains at her knees which she could do nothing about she had managed to brush the worst of the dirt from herself. He moved towards her, unable to stop himself, pulled out his handkerchief and gently wiped the smudge that crossed her cheeks and rode up over the bridge of her tip-tilted nose. He noticed a smattering of freckles as he wiped it away. Her eyes held his, and he noticed that she was holding her breath. He was too. It would be too easy to kiss her, to take her in his arms. He forced himself to step away. He shouldn’t have been so forward. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Nothing to apologize for Mr Dalligan. Now how is my Monty?” she said brightly, was it a little too much so? Albert prayed he hadn’t upset her, or made her feel uncomfortable.

“He is quite well. I applied poultices morning and night, and let him rest and he is right as rain.” The smile on her face was worth all the work he had done, and she ran around him and out to the front yard where her beloved horse was standing patiently.

“Hey boy,” she said as she scratched behind his ears and snuggled up into his strong neck. Albert couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. “Mariette told me you stable Gamling with her, so he is in his stall waiting for you. He has a lovely temperament,” she said politely, seeming unusually reticent.

“But is old and tired,” Albert said knowing she would be too polite to tell him the truth.

“I didn’t say that,” she said with a grin.

“You didn’t need to. Like Monty here, he has seen me through some tough journeys. I don’t want to part with him, but cannot afford the expense of two horses.” Albert admitted sadly.

“I would take him off your hands,” she said thoughtfully. “I am hoping to find a farm, raise horses. I need good stud horses. Gamling is old, and past his prime but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t still sire some very good animals.”

“You do not have to be so kind.”

“I’m not, an old horse is a cheap horse – and one who is as well as he is at his age is worth taking a chance on.”

“I shall keep you in mind should I decide to replace him Miss Macgregor,” Albert said with a smile. “I should go now, but thank you for the pleasure of such a good horse for my ride home. I should be happy to take him and rub him down for you. I am sure Mariette would be happy for him to have a stall in her stable.”

“Thank you for your help, I will never be able to repay you for everything. But I should like to do that myself later,” she said as she finally stopped cradling his big head. “I have missed him terribly, and will take him out for a ride immediately. But, please do call on me if you ever need anything at all,” she said fervently, stepping towards him and putting her hand on his arm. He jumped backwards. Her touch had sent a jolt of energy through him, setting his nerves alight. He could hardly believe the effect that such a tiny touch could have. His entire body seemed to be reacting to her closeness and he didn’t trust himself one bit to not act on it. He would need to keep his distance from this delightful woman, she had made it clear enough that she wasn’t here looking for a husband. This time he couldn’t miss the look of hurt in her eyes. “Good day to you Mr Dalligan,” she said crisply.

“Miss Macgregor,” he started, but she was already walking away from him. “I… Good day to you too. It was my pleasure,” he finished sadly. “Goodbye Monty, take care of her,” he said to the giant horse, who was placidly munching on the tiny patch of grass outside the tiny cottage.