of them.”
Amelia laughed. “I was talking about diapers. We call them nappies in England.”
“You’ve sure done some strange things with our language,” Amber said.
Jensen gave her a little nudge. “I beg to differ. If I remember my history lessons, the English language was well established before your little American colony began butchering it.”
Amber elbowed him right back. “And we dumped your tea into the harbor and taught you a lesson or two, if I remember correctly.”
“Listen, you two, if your revolution reenactment wakes the baby, I’ll have to ask you to take it outside my hospital room,” Amelia said, as she smirked and nuzzled her newborn closer.
“We’ll save it for later,” Jensen said. “Besides, visiting hours are nearly over.”
“Then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Amber alone.”
“Of course,” Jensen said. “I’ll step outside into the hallway.”
Here it comes. Amelia was going to lay into her for practically mauling her brother in public. But Amber was a big girl. She could take her licking.
“Thank you for distracting that reporter at the ranch,” Amelia said. “It allowed Quinn and I to have our privacy during this special time in our lives.”
“You’re welcome. Although, I apologize for opening up a whole new can of worms for those crazy tabloids. Now they think Jensen and I are a hot topic.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Amber drew back. Was she kidding? While a lot of mothers opted for natural childbirth, the British woman must’ve chosen to use drugs. Was Amelia flying high on some kind of medicine that bypassed her baby’s bloodstream but had her dreaming romantic fantasies?
Amelia studied Amber carefully, smiled and nodded. “You’re just what Jensen needs.”
Seriously? Amber slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong. It was just a little kiss between friends.”
“The camera caught a spark. And I’ve seen the banter between you. My brother hasn’t lit up like that since before my father passed away. And even then...well, I think there’s something going on.”
Oh, boy. Maybe the euphoria of being a new mother was making her see things that clearly weren’t there. “I’m afraid it was all an act.”
Amelia shook her head. “You can deny your feelings the way I denied mine for Quinn. But it will be futile. Once my brother sets his sights on a prime piece of horseflesh, he can be as stubborn as Churchill’s bulldog.”
Had Amelia just called her a horse?
The Brits had such an odd way with words. Maybe it was best that Amber not take offense, especially when the new mother had been so sweet and so understanding.
Amelia glanced down at her little one, then checked the baby’s diaper. “Well, what do you know? I’m going to have to change her nappy, then put her down for a nappy.”
They both laughed.
“I’ll let you get to it, then,” Amber said. “And it’s probably a good idea if you both get some rest. Thanks so much for understanding about that darn photo.” Even if Amelia didn’t understand that nothing was going on between Amber and her brother.
“Thank you. We might need you to pull another stunt to help us sneak home undetected.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m afraid this cowgirl isn’t used to being front-page news. But I’ll run the idea past Jensen.” She tossed her new friend a smile. “You have a beautiful baby, Amelia. Take care.”
Then she slipped out of the room and went in search of Jensen. She found him near the water fountain in the corridor.
“That was quick,” he said. “What did she have to say?”
“Not much. She thanked me for helping lead the paparazzi astray. That kind of thing.”
As they continued out of the hospital, he glanced her way a couple of times. She figured he wasn’t buying her explanation. But there was no way she’d tell him what Amelia had really said, especially about there being some kind of spark in that kiss—as nice and moving as it was. Or that he needed someone like Amber. Imagine that.
He opened the lobby door, and they stepped out into the winter night.
“I forgot to ask if they’d chosen a name for the baby.” In truth, she’d been so worried about the conversation Amelia intended to have with her that she’d been thrown off step.
“Clementine Rose.”
“How cool is that? Your sister gave her daughter a Western name.”
“What do you mean?”
Amber broke into song, singing the familiar old diddy that Pop used to hum all the time, “Oh, my darlin’, oh, my darlin’, oh my darlin’, Clementine...”
“Actually,” Jensen said, “the baby was named after my father’s mother—Clementine.”
“Oh. And the Rose...?”
“Amelia just likes the name.”
Jensen opened the passenger door of Quinn’s pickup, and Amber slid inside. Then he climbed behind the wheel and they were off.
The ride back to Horseback Hollow was pretty quiet, the silence stretching between them like a taut rubber band that was ready to snap.
When they finally reached the feed store, where they’d met earlier, he parked in front, under an old streetlight that wasn’t working. It was only a couple of doors down from the VFW, where Gram had left the Taurus for Amber to drive home.
When Amber reached for the door handle, Jensen asked, “What’s really bothering you?”
She turned back, deciding to finally level with him. But instead of taking her time to think up a careful explanation, her words came out in a near rush after being pent up for so dang long. “It’s just that Amelia thinks we’re really a couple, and I know that’s not true. Heck, we’re barely even friends. Anyone can see that. A man like you would never want a girl like me, and you’re probably laughing on the inside and—”
Jensen leaned across the seat, placed a hand behind her neck, drew her lips to his and stopped her deluge of words with a kiss that soon deepened to the point that her hands didn’t want to stay put.
Amber wasn’t sure how long it would have lasted or what it might have led to if Jensen hadn’t inadvertently leaned against the horn, setting off a loud, earsplitting honk that made them jerk apart and left them both breathless.
“What...was...that...kiss?” She stopped, her words coming out in raspy little gasps.
“...all about?” he finished for her.
She merely nodded.
“I don’t know. It just seemed like an easier thing to do than to discuss.”
Maybe so, but being with Jensen was still pretty clandestine, what with meeting in the shadows, under the cloak of darkness.
The British royal and the cowgirl. They might be attracted to each other—and she might be good enough for him to entertain the idea of a few kisses in private or even a brief, heated affair. And maybe she ought to consider the same thing for herself, too.
But it would never last. Especially if the press—or the town gossips—got wind of it.
So she shook it all off—the secretive nature of it all, as well as the sparks and the chemistry, and opened the passenger door. “Good night, Jensen.”
“What about dinner?” he asked. “I still owe you, remember?”
Yep,