question enough for that to happen. She’d been burned more than enough.
Besides, she told herself firmly, it wasn’t going to be an issue. She wouldn’t be around long enough for anything to happen. Still, a girl could dream...
“You probably know a lot about El Baharian history,” Cade said as he drove along the road.
“It was required learning in school. Why? Should I be prepared to dazzle with assorted factoids at dinner?”
“We have a history here, too.” He winked at her. “It’s pretty interesting.”
“Do tell.”
“About fifty or sixty years ago, my grandfather realized the town was dying. There was no industry, no tourists, and if the town died, he would lose the family bank. To keep that from happening, he spun a story of how the town was founded. That in the 1800s, during the gold rush, a group of mail-order brides were stranded here when their stagecoach broke down. By the time the parts came from back east, they’d all fallen in love.”
“That’s lovely.”
“It’s a crock. Never happened. But the locals liked it enough to change the name of the town and the word spread. Hollywood got all excited and a few stars came here to get married. From that point on, Happily Inc became a destination wedding town.”
“Very slick,” she murmured. “And innovative. I’m very excited to meet your grandfather.”
“You’ll like him.” He glanced at her again. “And he’ll like you. He’s single, so be careful.”
She laughed. “Is he into younger women?”
“Since my grandmother died, he’s pretty much been playing the field.”
“Impressive.”
They drove through an older neighborhood with large homes on big lots. At the end of the street was the biggest house. There was a long driveway with a dozen or so cars parked on one side. Cade parked at the end and turned to face her.
“You start to freak out, just come find me. I’ll change the subject to hoof rot or bloat and that will gross out my mother, who will make a big fuss and forget what she was saying before.”
Bethany thought about all the state functions she’d survived. She doubted anyone in Cade’s family was even close to as tedious as some of the diplomats she’d been seated next to.
“Thank you for that lovely offer. I think I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will be. Just know there’s an escape hatch.”
“Which is an interesting thing to call hoof rot.”
He flashed her a smile that made her throat tighten and her knees go weak. Maybe it was the little scar by his eyebrow or the chiseled lines of his jaw. Regardless, Cade was one intriguing man. If only he was into women who had yet to figure out what to do with their lives, oh, and who happened to be princesses.
She got out of the cab and started for the front door. As they climbed the porch steps, Cade put his hand on the small of her back.
“Just remember, my hoof rot stories are all yours,” he said quietly before opening the door.
“And people say chivalry is dead.”
He was still chuckling when they walked into the house.
Bethany had a brief impression of a spacious foyer and beautiful curved staircase. She and Cade followed the sound of conversation into a large living room.
At first glance she would have sworn there were at least fifty people sitting, circulating and talking, but then she realized there were maybe twenty or twenty-five. She recognized Pallas sitting on the arm of a club chair, her hand on the shoulder of the man next to her. A woman in her fifties with her brown hair in a tight bun detached herself from the group and approached them.
“You made it,” she greeted Cade, smiling, then turned so he could kiss her cheek.
“Hi, Mom. This is Beth Smith. I told you about her. She’s an American working in El Bahar. She works in the El Baharian royal stables and came with the stallion I purchased. Beth, my mother, Libby Saunders.”
“Mrs. Saunders, it’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for your gracious invitation.”
Cade’s mother looked her over in a second. From the slight twist to her mouth, she was obviously unimpressed. “Libby, please. So, you work in a stable?”
Cade stiffened. “Mom, it’s not like that. Beth has a lot of responsibility. Rida’s a big deal and Beth’s the one who makes the decision whether he stays or not. And it’s a royal stable.”
Libby’s expression didn’t change at all. “But you do work in a stable?”