At The Rancher's Bidding

“You will leave on time, I promise.” Allie paced to the French doors to look outside, wondering how to phrase her plan to gain Leila’s cooperation. At the edge of the veranda a trellis laden with pink-and-white roses stood—her favorite flowers—but today they did little to calm her excitement. “Although I don’t know why you are so anxious to return.”

“I know I have behaved inappropriately, my mistress. But in the bazaar at home there is a young man….”

Leila’s admission had Allie whirling around to look at her servant. She was an attractive woman, slightly younger than her own twenty-two years. She had the same dark eyes that were so common in their country, and she and Allie were of the same height and figure. They both wore simple sheath dresses and sandals, although the fabric of Allie’s dress was finer, her sandals a better quality of leather.

“You have a boyfriend?” Allie asked, surprised by a tug of envy. She’d never been allowed in the bazaar unescorted, and certainly never had the opportunity to attract the attention of a young man.

“We have only spoken once.” Dipping her head, Leila studied her needlework. “But he does have eyes for me.”

“You are a fortunate woman, Leila.”

“I will think of myself as fortunate if I get to return to him soon.”

Allie knelt beside Leila, taking her needlework from her hands and setting it aside. “You want to go home, and you shall, but I wish to stay in America for a time.”

“I doubt your brother will permit—”

“I know. But I have a plan. Because the neighboring rancher saved your life yesterday, the shiekh is going to give you to him as a gift.”

Leila paled. “You can’t mean—”

“Hear me out. Please. You will go home as me, and I will remain here as you.”

“What?” Her servant looked at Allie as though she had lost her mind. “My mistress, someone will notice—”

“Nonsense. My brother pays me little attention. And this cowboy saw us only when we were properly covered, as women of Munir should be.” Females were expected to wear the cloak and veil in public, and it grated on Allie more than she cared to admit. Her irritation had grown even stronger the longer she remained in America. She envied the freedom women had here, and craved a small taste of that sense of independence.

“But what would happen if the sheikh discovers—”

“Are you not willing to risk whatever punishment my brother might mete out in order to see your friend from the bazaar again?”

Leila hesitated, then responded in a desperate whisper. “Yes.”

Raising her own fist in victory, Allie began to make plans how they would deceive both her brother and this cowboy, Cord Brannigan. He would be the easiest to fool, she was sure. He had seen neither Leila nor Allie clearly. If she kept her head turned away from her brother, Allie was confident he would not know she had switched places with her servant.

And then, for however long it took her brother to miss her—which might be a few days or even a few weeks—she would be free to explore the world as an ordinary woman. No longer a princess betrothed to a man she could not bear the thought of lying with as a wife.

Later, after her grand adventure, she would be able to deal better with the realities of her life, she told herself.

But for whatever time she was permitted, she would be free!

THE NEXT TIME he saw a runaway horse, he was going to turn his mount in the opposite direction and get out of Dodge in a hurry. From now on damsels in distress would have to manage on their own.

Cord Brannigan drove his pickup out the arching entrance of the Flying Ace Ranch and headed down the dirt road toward the Desert Rose. A plume of dust rose behind the truck, and the cattle grazing in the nearby pasture lazily raised their heads, probably hoping he’d drop off a bale of hay to make life easier for them. Not this time, ladies.

He’d tried to tell the visiting sheikh he didn’t expect any thanks for rescuing the young woman, and didn’t want or need an extra servant. For the past year, he’d lived alone in the ranch house with his half sister, Brianna. Even though his housekeeper was gone for a few weeks, helping with a new grandchild, Cord and Brianna could get along fine without help. And his hired hands pretty much took care of themselves.

But Sheikh Rafe didn’t know the meaning of “no, thanks.” It had become obvious that if Cord pressed the issue he was likely to cause an international incident. At the very least, he’d cause trouble between the sheikh and the Coleman family, who were trying to sell the guy a foal from one of their prize mares.

Cord didn’t want to cause a problem for his neighbors. The Colemans—particularly Alex, Cade and Mac—had been friends of his for years. The three brothers were sheikhs in their own right. But since they had been raised in Texas, Cord didn’t feel a need to kowtow to them. Causing them to lose a customer was a different matter.

So Cord was stuck with a servant he didn’t need. Unless he could talk the woman into going somewhere else.

Pulling up in front of the two-story Desert Rose ranch house, he parked the truck. The horse pastures were greener here than on his ranch, the grass richer for the pampered Arabians, the fences white-painted wood rather than barbed wire. He preferred the more rugged work of raising cattle, but the Colemans had certainly made an international name for themselves in the horse business.

He got out of the truck and nodded a greeting as Cade Coleman came out of the house. “How’s the new daddy bearing up?” Cord asked.

“Better than Rena,” he said with a smile that made his dark eyes light up. “She’s got to handle most of the nighttime duties with the twins. But neither one of us has gotten much sleep in the past three months.”

“I can imagine.” The front door opened, and Cord looked up to see the sheikh in his flowing white garb, followed by a woman fully cloaked and veiled, with only her dark, almond-shaped eyes visible. “Are you sure there isn’t some way I can refuse Sheikh Rafe’s gift?” he asked Cord under his breath.

Cade lifted his shoulders in an easy shrug of indifference. “It’s a custom, I guess. You’ll think of some way to handle it.”

Cord wasn’t so sure.

“Good afternoon.” Rafe extended his hand, griping Cord’s firmly. “Allow me to present Leila, my sister’s lady-in-waiting. She is honored to be chosen to serve for a short time the man who saved her life.”

“Look, Rafe, this really isn’t necessary. I only did what any man would do.” He hadn’t been particularly heroic. Had just been at the right place at the right time, or rather the wrong place, as it turned out.

The sheikh waved off his objection and instead beckoned the woman to step forward. She carried a small satchel with her. All her worldly possessions, Cord imagined.

Cord tipped the brim of his Stetson. “Miss.” Actually, he didn’t have a clue if she was a miss or a missus, there being no way to judge her age under all those yards of cotton fabric. With her head bowed, he couldn’t even see her eyes, although he remembered them as dark orbs circled with kohl, looking very frightened when he’d reined in her horse.

When he took the satchel from her, he did catch a glimpse of her hands. Long, delicate fingers and soft, unblemished skin the shade of cream right from a mother cow…Not exactly the hands of someone used to hard work, although there were no rings or any sign of extravagant wealth.

“If she does not please you,” Rafe said, “return her to me, and I shall make amends.”

Studying the shiekh’s solemn expression, Cord wondered if there was the hint of a threat there—that Leila would suffer if she didn’t live up to expectations. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Hell, this wasn’t like buying a broodmare with a guaranteed money-back deal that she’d produce for him.

“The sheikh and his sister are returning to Munir early tomorrow,” Cade said.

“I have business to attend to and Aliah—Allie, as my sister is called here—must prepare for her wedding to Sardar Bin Douri, a man of wealth and influence in my country. The event is much anticipated by our people. There will be great rejoicing when the two families are joined.”

“Well then, have yourself a good trip, Rafe. Come back and visit anytime,” Cord said.

“No doubt I shall. The Coleman stables at the Desert Rose offer many enticements.”

Cord chuckled. From what he’d heard, the sheikh’s stables were something to brag about, too.

He said his goodbyes and carried the bag to his truck, tossing it in the back. Silently, Leila walked a steady three paces behind him, which raised the hackles on his neck. This whole deal was crazy!

She waited for him to open the door. He took her elbow, helping her up, and felt the fragility of her bones through her dress. Munir didn’t raise their women very sturdy, he mused. Not like Texas women, who could ride a horse and rope cows all day, then party all night and make love until dawn.

And be unfaithful in the process, playing a man for a fool, as he had learned the hard way.

As they reached the road leaving the Desert Rose, and still Leila hadn’t spoken word one, Cord pulled the truck to the side and stopped.

“Look, Leila, you’re probably not any happier about this arrangement than I am.”