Darlene Scalera - The Cowboy And The Countess

“I may be a little crazy.”

Those eyes welled into wide rings again, the colors brightening as if wet. Her hand dropped his. As her fingers pulled away, his own still reached out. She stepped toward him, laid her cheek against his in the briefest of moments and whispered, “Me, too.”

She stepped back and took the fingers that had never stopped reaching for her. She smiled. “Come on, cowboy.”

HER MOTHER FED HIM SCONES and tea, and Anna excused herself to take a shower. But first she slipped back down the stairs to the reception area. Ronnie glanced up from the morning paper as Anna came into the room.

“How’s our cowboy?”

“‘Our’ cowboy? Weren’t you the one a few minutes ago sizing him up for a Square Rock Stomp?”

Ronnie smiled. “Any guy who can look at you like that when you smell of herring can’t be all bad.”

Anna shook her head. “Kent Landover.”

She was about to flop down into a chair when Ronnie cautioned, “Not the crushed velour.”

She straightened and, folding her arms, leaned against the wall, staring forward, not seeming to see.

“I didn’t know your mother and you had such impressive connections.” Ronnie laid thick her accent.

“Mom worked for the Landover family for four years.”

“No kidding?”

“It was years ago. I was a baby. Mama wasn’t much more than a child herself, nineteen. She’d met my father in her first foster home. He’d shown her the ropes, protected her. They were separated, but as soon as he could, he came for her. They married and came to California to start a new life together. He was killed in a car accident not long after I was born.” Anna’s voice dropped. “Mama never loved another.”

She gathered memories. “After my father’s death, Mama got a job on the Landovers’ household staff. She was lucky. The position didn’t pay much, but it included room and board. We lived on the estate, in the back, in a cottage with gingerbread trim.”

Her thoughts drifted further. “Kent was about two years older than me. An only child, he’d been left to the care of nannies and nurses since he was born. His parents were busy people. His father had his businesses, his mother her charities and social intrigues. I was Kent’s first real friend, and he, mine. His parents didn’t approve of the friendship. I was a servant’s child. They spoke to my mother, but when Kent came to our cottage, a lonely child wanting to play, Mama didn’t have the heart to send him away. Sometimes, when Mama was working and Kent’s parents weren’t home, we’d even play at the big house. Games children play—hide-and-seek, ‘Mother, May I…?”’

“Dress-up?” Ronnie asked.

Anna nodded. “It was our favorite. He was always K. C. Cowboy; I was always—”

“The Countess.” Ronnie understood.

Anna had to smile, remembering. “We were happy. Mom was happy, too. She sewed curtains for the cottage, embroidered pillowcases for our beds. She’d never had a real home, but this came close. She had a small salary and a roof over our heads, and, as time went on, I didn’t hear her crying so much in the night. Everything was pretty perfect. I thought it would stay that way forever. I was young.”

“What happened?”

“We would play dress-up and pretend for hours. Sometimes Kent would bring things from the big house for the dress-up box—a scarf, a hat, a necklace, a bracelet. We only saw pretty colors, sparkling stones, tinted lights. I didn’t know until later the jewelry was real. I didn’t know its value. I kept them, thousands of dollars of precious gems, in a box in the back of my closet with a tinfoil tiara and a toy six-shooter set. When they were found, my mother was as shocked as the Landovers. I told them I didn’t know the jewelry was worth so much money. I told them I’d only borrowed it for dress-up. The Landovers didn’t press charges, but we had to leave immediately.”

“But when Kent explained how—?”

“I never told anyone Kent had brought the jewelry. I didn’t want to get him into trouble. I was afraid they wouldn’t let him have any more friends, and he’d be all alone again, like he was before I came. I was five. He was seven.

“We had each other. The rest of the world was ruled by adults who decided what had happened and what would be done. We were only children.”

Her throat tightened. “I never got a chance to say goodbye.”

Ronnie’s eyes widened. “Hold on. The last time you saw this guy, you were five?”

Anna nodded.

“And he walks in here this morning and proposes marriage?” Ronnie shook her head. “He’s cute, but he’s got to be crazy.”

“He said he’d come from the hospital. The back of his shirt says Property of UCLA Medical Center. I came down to check if there was something about an accident or a missing person in the paper this morning. You didn’t see anything, did you?”

“Yeah, right here, on the first page of the business section—Kent Landover Goes Loony Tunes.”

“I’m only trying to figure this out.”

“Honey, if something did happen, they’re not going to issue a press release and start a panicked sell-off of Landover Tech stock. I’d say start with UCLA.”

“I suppose they might be able to explain everything.” Anna sighed. “I’m not sure I want to know. Kent Landover…crazy?”

“I’ve seen crazier on Hollywood Boulevard in broad daylight,” Ronnie said as she went back to scanning the paper. “Maybe he didn’t escape from the loony bin. Maybe he got a batch of mad cow beef. Wait—” Ronnie’s finger stopped halfway down the newspaper page. “There’s something here about Landover Technology.”

“What?” Anna rounded the desk and looked over Ronnie’s shoulder.

“Never mind. Nothing helpful. Speculation about a possible partnership with some Asian company,” Ronnie said, reading. She glanced up at Anna. “You think our cowboy upstairs is interested?”

She shook her head. “Not at the moment.”

They heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. As the back door to the reception area opened, Maureen was saying, “Are you sure you don’t want to lie down a spell, K.C.? Your body is still recovering from your accident yesterday.”

“He only lost it yesterday?” Ronnie whispered to Anna. “And the first thing he does is come looking for you? Can you say ‘stalker’?”

“S-s-s-h-h!” Anna hushed her.

Kent was holding the door open for Anna’s mother. “Ma’am,” he said to her, “I don’t believe I’ve ever felt better in my entire life.” He turned and smiled at Anna.

“Tea and scones.” He looked toward the window. “Sunshine.” His gaze went back to Anna. “And finding the sweetest little gal ever to set foot down on God’s good earth. That’s all an ailing man needs.”

Anna mustered a wan smile.

“Whoa, cowboy.” Ronnie laughed. “You sure do know how to shoot the—”

“Ronnie.” Maureen cut her off. She looked at the two women. “Anna, you haven’t even taken a shower yet? The new girls will be here for orientation in thirty minutes. I would prefer my head trainer doesn’t smell like fish.”

“I was on my way…but then…” She paused, saw Kent eyeing the monitor on the desk. “Ronnie needed help…rebooting the computer.”

“Rebooting?” Kent walked over to the desk. “I’ve heard of reshoeing, but never rebooting.” He stood next to her, stared down at the computer screen.

“Come on,” Ronnie protested. “You practically invented—”

“You don’t know much about computers, K.C.?” Anna interrupted.

He was still studying the screen. “Tell you the truth, darn fangled things scare me to death.”

Anna looked at Ronnie.