His Outback Cowgirl(40)

She’d almost lost her mother and then she did lose her father, could she now open herself up to more pain? Could she take the risk and live the dream with the man she loved knowing he could be taken from her at any moment? She trembled. Even for a risk-taker such a risk seemed overwhelming.

Ethan leaned forward to take hold of her hands. “You’ve gone white.” He squeezed her fingers. “And you’re shaking.”

“I’m okay.” But her words lacked her earlier bravado and conviction.

“No, you’re not. You’re going into shock.”

He carefully gathered her into his arms. “You need to rest and are going to see the inside of Henry’s guest room, after all.”



“How is she?” Henry asked as Ethan returned from checking on Bridie.

“Hard to say. She always puts on a brave face but she doesn’t feel like dinner so that’s not a good sign.”

Ethan dragged a still unsteady hand through his hair. When he’d researched how to use an EpiPen, he’d been left in no doubt about the life-threatening nature of Bridie’s bee allergy. When she’d sunk to the ground holding her arm, it was as though his heart had stopped. And it now had only just resumed beating. While Bridie still hadn’t shown any reaction to the wasp sting, he was taking no chances and would keep a close watch over her.

He spoke again. “She had a bag packed in case she stayed at Payton’s so I’ve taken it to her. There’s no way she’s going anywhere tonight.”

Henry grunted. “Good luck with that. She’s an Ashton. Her great-grandfather rode a whole cattle drive with a shattered elbow. They’re almost as stubborn as us Watsons.”

“So that gives me the edge then?”

“Nope.” A smile shaped Henry’s mouth. “She also has her grandmother Daisy’s blood running through her veins. Your grandmother, Violet, was the sweetest woman to ever live. You don’t stand a chance against Bridie when she sets her mind to something.” Henry’s eyes twinkled. “Unless of course, she’s foolish enough to have feelings for you, in which case that makes you both even.”

“Foolish enough? I am your son remember? You’re supposed to say nice things about me.”

Henry chuckled. “I am. One look at Cordell will tell you what you’re dealing with and to think twice before crossing him. But you, my quietly-spoken son, are far more dangerous. People underestimate and misjudge you. A woman sure would be foolish to care for you without knowing the real you.”

Ethan searched his father’s face. Was he trying to tell him that Bridie did or didn’t know the real him?

Henry squeezed his shoulder as he shuffled past. “But lucky for you, from the first day she met you, Bridie has always seen who you are.”

Henry’s words stayed with Ethan as he prepared a tray for Bridie. He’d take her some toast and juice and see if he could encourage her to eat. He hadn’t missed the earlier rumble of her stomach.

Bridie did see the real him. She knew that beneath his composure he could be as wild and as unbridled as his brother; it was just that life had shaped him a different way. She wasn’t shocked, or dismayed, at the contrast between how he presented to the world and who he really was. Instead the energetic, restless part of Bridie understood his deepest, hidden depths. Just like he now saw that for all her spontaneity and risk taking, a part of Bridie was also sensible, rational and cautious. She’d held onto her grief to mourn in private to spare her mother worry. She also hadn’t rushed into sleeping with him on their first trip away. She’d said they weren’t so different and she’d been right.

He picked up the dinner tray. Yesterday he’d shown her through touch how much he loved her but it wasn’t yet time to put his feelings into words. His conscience still whispered that he had to go slow, no matter that Bridie disagreed. She still needed a chance to heal. At least now they had the summer, and time, to allow what was between them to develop.

He quietly pushed open her door. The bedroom light was on but Bridie could be asleep. As the door widened, he discovered she was far from sleepy. Instead, she paced the width of the guest room, her ponytail loose and her hair tousled.

He stepped into the room and she swung around. Still pale and her eyes wide, she seemed to be having no trouble breathing.

“Hungry?” He placed the tray on a table that overlooked the window.

“No, but thanks.” She didn’t look at the tray. Instead her chin lifted as though harnessing some inner strength.

“Ethan ...”

“Yes.” He folded his arms. Something was wrong. Her energy levels were too high. Her eyes too over-bright. Her agitation didn’t have anything to do with her wasp sting that she earlier handled with both calm and composure.