Her Royal Bed by Laura Wright Page A

the old man’s foot. Abel swore darkly, then looked sheepish as the teenager he was helping brush down the horse lifted his eyebrows. He lowered his voice and leaned into Bobby. “You’re going to end up a lonely old goat.”
    â€œLook who’s talking,” Bobby shot back.
    The teenage boy chuckled, then stopped when Abel sent him a testy glare. Again, he leaned into Bobby and whispered, “That wasn’t my choice and you damn well know it.”
    Bobby swatted at a fly. “Fine.”
    â€œBut you do have a choice, boy.”
    Bobby looked Abel straight in the eye, prepared to utter some stay-out-of-my-business comment. The older man had been with Bobby for too long. He knew too much, spoke whatever was on his mind with little thought of the impact. But Abel also had been a good friend, so Bobby curbed the need to argue and muttered a quick, “I don’t have time for this. As you said, we have a big group today,” then walked away.
    Â 
    â€œAre you sure it’s all right if I tag along?”
    â€œOf course,” Jane assured her mother as she pulled one of Sakir’s cars into the driveway of KC Ranch. “Bobby’s foreman said he’d love another set of hands helping the kids with their gear and lining them up and things like that.”
    â€œBecause I don’t want to be a burden.”
    The warm morning sun filtered through the passenger-side window, setting her mother’s pretty face in a flattering pale-yellow glow. “Mom, why are you talking like this? It’s not like you to be so—”
    â€œSelf-pitying? I know.” Tara laughed weakly. “I’m feeling a little lonely lately.”
    â€œEven with all of your friends?” Jane asked as she parked the car in one of the vacant spots in front of Bobby’s house.
    Tara shrugged. “I suppose they’re not the kind of friends I want.”
    Realization dawned. “Oh.” In twenty-some years, Jane had never known Tara to be lonely, to want the comfort of a male “friend” in her life. She had alwaysbeen so caught up in life, in her art and in Jane. But of course she’d want companionship, love.
    Really, who didn’t?
    Jane walked around the car and opened the door for her mother. Tara took her daughter’s hand and they walked up the path toward the house. “It’s been a long time since I put my oar in, so to speak.”
    â€œI don’t think much has changed. There still are sharks out there.” Jane grinned. “But every once in a while you snag a great catch.”
    Tara laughed. “I like this metaphor. Goes well with my Piscean nature.” She squeezed Jane’s hand, then said softly, “So you don’t mind? I have your blessing to date?”
    â€œNot that you need it, but of course you do. Go fishing, Mom.”
    â€œFishing!” came a weathered, though highly masculine voice from the porch.
    Jane looked up and saw Abel Garret leaning against the railing. He smiled at them both. “You two have plans with a few horses today. No skipping out for trout, understand?”
    If he only knew to what they referred, Jane mused with a laugh. She turned to Tara, who looked a little flushed all of a sudden. “Mom, this is Abel Garret. Abel’s the foreman here at KC Ranch.”
    â€œAmong other things.” Abel, aware that Tara was blind, shot down the stairs like a man half his age and took Tara’s hand in his own. “Pleasure, ma’am.”
    Tara groaned, then laughed.
    â€œWhat’d I say?” Abel asked Jane, perplexed.
    Jane grimaced. “Ma’am.”
    â€œMakes me feel very old, Mr. Garret,” Tara said, her face shining with humor and good health.
    â€œAh, I see.” Abel’s gaze remained on Tara, smiling at her as if she could see him. “Don’t look a day over twenty-nine, but how bout this? How about I call you Tara and you can call me