Читать книгу A Cowboy's Pride - Karen Rock - Страница 12
ОглавлениеKATIE-LYNN.
Besides her family, no one had used her real name since she’d changed it to match her makeover. Katie-Lynn was another person, a ghost from her past.
In LA she was a star.
Remember that girl.
“Katie-Lynn, you’re as pretty as ever.” Boyd beamed at her as he pulled a can of coffee from a wooden cabinet. He hadn’t changed much. Sun streaming through the kitchen’s windows glowed on his thick white hair and highlighted unbowed shoulders in a flannel shirt. The extra lines on his craggy face added to his distinguished appearance.
“That’s sweet of you. Thanks. And I go by Katlynn, now.”
“Help yourself to some fruit if you’re hungry,” Boyd added. “I could make you some toast if you haven’t had breakfast.”
“No. This is great.” She leaned across the oak table, filched a cherry from a bowl and popped it into her mouth, hyperaware of Cole’s eyes trained solely on her. The sensation was unsettling. It reminded her of the buzz of anticipation accompanying a roller coaster’s first lurch, one she’d ridden before. This time, however, she knew the drops, twists and corners ahead.
Her limbs stiffened, and her jaw clamped as she fought the crazy urge to squeeze her eyes shut. She practically lived under a microscope in California; why did Cole’s scrutiny fluster her?
She squashed the disturbing question—he had no sway over her anymore—and glanced across the table at the inscrutable rancher. Cole Donovan Loveland, the first man she’d ever loved, and the only man who’d ever broken her heart.
His eyes were still that unnerving shade of clear, glacier blue. Clipped black hair showed no signs of gray or thinning. And he was still crazy tall—obviously—people don’t shrink in their thirties, least of all a Loveland.
Katlynn’s toes tapped the wide-planked floor.
Cole was as mountain-size and rugged as his surroundings, and he still radiated his enigmatic, I’m-the-puzzle-you’ll-never-solve vibe. Oh...no. This was not good.
“Katie-Lynn?” Tom’s nose scrunched as if he smelled something bad. In his polished Italian loafers and custom suit, her producer appeared out of place in this rustic setting. Hollywood called him a shark, but in the Rockies, he resembled a beached guppy.
“I didn’t have a say in picking my name,” she said beneath her breath. “Then.”
Cole’s narrow-eyed gaze darted between them.
“Don’t you think she looks pretty, Cole?” Boyd persisted, dumping ground beans into an old-school coffeemaker.
At Cole’s noncommittal grunt, her shoulders squared inside the tasteful black dress she’d carefully selected for today.
For Cole.
To impress him; to show him how far she’d come from the mouse he’d once dismissed. To earn his approval...
Why?
Because you’re an idiot.
An empty watering can atop a mat in the center of the table snagged her eye. In a flash, she was seventeen again, picking daisies with Cole to fill it.
“Here’s one for your hair.” He’d tucked a flower behind her ear. “Though you’re the one making it look pretty.”
And she’d blushed, amazed the popular, athletic boy in high school had even noticed her, let alone made her his girlfriend. She’d felt special. Important.
“How about some coffee?” Boyd’s question pulled her back to the present with a jolt, her stomach tipping side to side.
A roasted-bean aroma erupted from the gurgling coffeemaker. Over Boyd’s shoulder, a brick hearth covered most of the back wall. Her mouth twitched as she recalled a disastrous strawberry-rhubarb pie-making attempt with Cole using one of the baking slits. They’d spent hours scrubbing goo off those stones...and had a fun time doing it.
How her tastes had changed.
Refined.
A good time nowadays meant a glass of Dom Perignon, preferably White Gold, while attending a star-studded event to see and be seen.
“None for me.” Tom stabbed at his cell phone then circled it overhead, searching for a signal.
Her eyes lingered on the coffeemaker’s glass carafe. One pot for everyone. No individual cup allowances for mint chocolate coffee or hazelnut vanilla... Here, coffee was coffee. Period. There was a simplicity about it she found refreshing. Sometimes when you had too many choices, you focused on the little things and lost sight of the big picture. Her eyes flicked to Cole again then scurried off, circling the room, landing anywhere but on the magnetic cowboy.
“Katie—I mean, Katlynn?” Boyd gently prompted, as considerate a host as ever. “Coffee?”
“Sounds great.”
“It won’t be fancy like Starbucks,” Cole drawled, his deep, Johnny Cash baritone as gravelly as she remembered. Her heart added a couple extra beats.
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” she replied firmly, striving to stay “mindful” and in the present moment as her life coach advised. Deep breath in, anxiety, frustration, despair, out.
Deep breath in, returning attraction and insecurities regarding ex-fiancé, way out.
“Are you staying at the Holsford?” Boyd asked, referring to the small town’s only hotel.
“They’ve double-booked my suite.”
“You’re welcome to share mine.” Tom’s perfectly shaped eyebrows twitched in the limited way his Botox allowed.
Cole’s lips pressed into a flat line.
“Or you could stay here.” Boyd cast a quick glance at Cole.
Sunlight glinted off Boyd’s silver and turquoise bolo tie, the one he donned for special occasions. How sweet that he’d dressed up. “We’ve got plenty of room now that Cole’s living in one of the cabins and Maverick’s out on his PBR tour,” Boyd beamed. “Oh—and Daryl got hitched a while back. He and his wife have a cottage not far from here. You’re welcome to stay.”
From a professional standpoint, staying on Loveland Hills gave her immediate and frequent access to the investigation as well as her location shoots. From a personal standpoint, it’d mean spending too much time around Cole.
Too dangerous.
“Thanks, but I’ll stay at my folks’ place.” She crossed her fingers on her lap. Hopefully...if her mother would return her calls...
“Where can I get a signal?” Tom scooted his spindle-backed chair from the table and stood.
“Signal?” Boyd stared at him, confused, the line between his brows deepening.
“For his cell phone.” Cole jerked his thumb at the door. “Try the porch.”
Tom mumbled his thanks as the screen door clicked shut behind him.
“We don’t have cell service.” Boyd poured coffee into a World’s Best Dad mug.
The upward tug of Cole’s full lips snared her attention. He looked so handsome sitting across from her, his broad shoulders filling out his thermal shirt, his lightly bristled jaw begging to be touched. He cocked his head and caught her staring. Katlynn dropped her eyes, sure everyone could hear her heart thundering in her chest.
“It got him out of our hair at least.” His thick-lashed eyes gleamed at Katlynn when her gaze darted his way again, and he arched a challenging brow.
Was he planning on getting rid of her next?
She lifted her chin. Well, he could try. She wasn’t as easy to discard as she used to be.
“Cream? Sugar?” Boyd held up a pitcher of foamy, fresh milk.
“Do you have skim milk? Artificial sweetener?” she asked with a sigh. After failing to zipper Jennifer’s rose sheath, Katlynn vowed to lose five pounds on this trip.
“No. But I could run to the store.”
“She’ll survive without fake sugar,” Cole asserted, folding muscular arms even a personal trainer would envy. “And a few extra calories would do her some good.”
Was he calling her skinny? She was a size six—practically obese in her industry, hence the necessary evil of slimming undergarments. Speaking of which, she shifted in her seat to alleviate their cruel pinch.
“I’ll just have it black.” She sucked on another cherry, the action seeming to fascinate an intently staring Cole.
“Cole? Want a cup?”
“I’ll fix it.” He snagged a cup out of the cupboard and banged it down on the counter. As he added a generous amount of cream, his lips twisted in a sardonic grin aimed her way.
“Hope it’s not too plain for you.” Boyd handed over the coffee then seated himself beside her.
She sipped her drink, enjoying the rich, unvarnished flavor, so different than her usual nonfat latte with a caramel drizzle. Boyd’s concerned face relaxed at her smile and nod.
“Really good, Mr. Loveland. Best cup I’ve had in years.”
“Well, now...” Boyd cleared his throat gruffly, looking embarrassed, then switched topics. “Glad to have you back home. We’ve missed seeing you around the place. Haven’t we, Cole?”
“You’re back to film a show about my family?” he asked instead of answering his father.
Her eyes lingered on his body as he leaned against the counter—tall, broad and thick with muscle. Cole was dressed in jeans, a thermal shirt and a down vest, pretty much the same thing he’d always worn, if memory served. And her memory seemed to be disturbingly clear where Cole Loveland was concerned.
She gave herself a little shake followed by a coffee chaser.
Get it together. You’re a professional. Not a high school girl crushing on the homecoming king.
Not anymore.
“You’ve heard of my show, Scandalous History...?” How strange to talk to Cole again, to drink coffee and behave civilly, like she’d never been in his arms, kissed those lips, cried those tears.
It takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations...
Cole shrugged, and the simple motion communicated one simple truth. She was as irrelevant to his world as ever. Well. Fine, then, since her world had outgrown his.
“Like I told your father,” she said smoothly, drawing on her vocal training to sound strong, assured, impervious, as if breathing the same air as her ex had no residual effect. “We do investigative reports about American history.”
“Where’s the scandalous part come in?” Cole sauntered back to the table and grabbed his seat.
Her muscles tensed. Boyd rushed to her defense. “No harm in speculating about old news—it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“Most of your subjects are dead, correct?”
At her nod, Cole turned to his father. “Our situation’s different.”
Concern spiked. Was Cole thinking about his mother and the media frenzy? “No one will be harmed because of the show.”
“Katlynn’s only focusing on the feud.” Boyd dropped more sugar into his coffee. His spoon clanked against the mug’s sides as he stirred.
“What guarantee do we have?”
She met Cole’s direct stare head-on, determined to win him over for her show’s sake. “My word.”
“You gave me your word once before,” he said slowly as though the words were razor blades, slashing his mouth as he released them. They cut her deep, too. “I haven’t forgotten how that worked out.”
“Neither have I.”
Boyd’s eyes flicked between them in the tense silence. “That’s water under the bridge, kids.”
A muscle jumped in Cole’s jaw, and she carefully pried her clenched fingers from her mug handle.
Boyd was right. Their broken engagement was yesterday’s news. Not worth covering. Or revisiting. No matter how the journalist in her wished to excavate their history for the answer to a basic question:
Why hadn’t he loved her enough?
“Katie-Lynn? What are you doing here?” A tall, dark-haired man dressed in a tan sheriff’s uniform appeared at the bottom of the stairs leading from the second-floor bedrooms. In three giant strides, Cole’s younger brother and Carbondale’s local sheriff, Travis, swept her into his arms for a tight hug.
“She goes by Katlynn now,” Cole said.
“Your father gave my show permission to shoot some episodes about your feud with the Cades.” She eased away and grinned up at Travis extra wide, since it seemed to get under a fidgeting Cole’s skin.
“Scandalous History, right?”
At her nod, Travis turned to his father. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Wanted Cole to know first.”
Travis’s broad smile fell and his chiseled features, slightly more refined than Cole’s, sobered. “Right.” He shot his brooding older brother a long look before heading to the coffee machine. “What’ve you learned so far?”
“We’re still in preliminary stages, so I don’t know much beyond what I grew up hearing. I plan on interviewing family members, consulting with local historians and digging through old town records for land surveys and such.”
“Will that clear up our water rights dispute?” Cole asked.
She remembered the restrictions keeping the Lovelands’ ranch on the brink of bankruptcy back in high school. “It’s something I’m going to investigate.”
“I’ll see if the sheriff’s office has anything.” Travis poured himself a cup of coffee and drank it black, his hip propped against the counter.
“That’d be a big help. Thanks.” Katlynn settled back in her chair and peered at the three handsome men. Lovelands were legendary for their incredible good looks and their willingness to lend a hand when needed. They were strong, principled men of action few dared to cross. “Would any of you know if correspondence between Maggie Cade and Everett Loveland exists? Letters? A journal Everett might have kept?”
Boyd shook his head slowly. “Not that I know of, but you’re welcome to check through the house and property.”
“We’ve also got cabins that once housed ranch hands. Some haven’t been occupied in decades.” Travis drained his mug and rinsed his cup. “If Maggie and Everett met in private, one of those might have been the spot.”
“A lover’s nest...” Boyd mused.
Her nose tingled, itching as it always did whenever she caught scent of a lead. “Great. No telling where the clues are, but I’m determined to uncover what happened between those two.”
“It’s not a mystery,” Cole said. “The Cades, hotheaded as always, jumped to conclusions when they discovered Everett by their runaway daughter’s lifeless body and their family brooch...”
“Cora’s Tear,” Travis supplied.
“Right, and the jewel missing.” Cole passed a hand over his thick black hair. “Then they strung up Everett, no questions asked, since they decided he must have coerced their innocent daughter to steal the priceless heirloom. They dispensed prairie justice like outlaw vigilantes.”
“And the murderers broke out of jail and hid in the mountains, harassing our ranch for years.” Travis squinted out the window at nearby Mount Sopris as if wishing he could travel back in time to apprehend them personally.
Hopefully, she’d bring the family closure and justice.
“Are you planning on digging up our property to search for the jewel? It’ll disrupt operations during our busy season.” Cole leaned forward, elbows bent.
“We might excavate a few areas if we have a strong lead,” Katlynn said. “I’ll follow the facts where they lead me.”
“Spoken like a true investigator.” Travis shot her a smile, donned his hat then opened the door. “Y’all have a good day.”
“The jewel isn’t on this land,” Cole insisted.
“Guess we’ll see.”
“What makes you think Everett took it?” Boyd asked.
“He was the last one seen with Maggie, and the Cades don’t have it... If your family took the jewel, it’d explain the bump in business for Loveland Hills after Cora’s Tear went missing. Some say your family may have sold it and used the money to expand your operation. In that case, the jewel would be long gone... However, my preliminary research reveals no transactions or sightings of the infamous piece.”
“This investigation might stir up trouble between our families again. Discord we don’t need.”
Her heart squeezed when she spied Cole’s concerned expression, his gaze on his father. Boyd had gone through a lot, and Cole was loyal to those he loved.
When push came to shove, he’d picked his family, his ranch, his old life, over a new one with her.
“The truth will set you free,” Boyd said. “We need to lift this cloud. It’s been hanging over us for too long.”
“If Katie-Lynn proves Cora’s Tear was here, and our ancestors sold it—which I doubt—then we may as well give James Cade our ranch. We couldn’t pay back its worth.”
Katie-Lynn.
He refused to use her new name, see the person she’d become. Knowing Cole, this would be an ongoing battle of wills. “What’s James Cade got to do with it?”
At her question, Cole shot his father a warning look. “Pa...”
“She may as well know all.” Boyd’s lips drooped in the corners. “We’re on the brink of foreclosure. A while back James Cade privately offered to buy the ranch at full market value and rent it back to us. It’s a more than fair offer, considering what the bank would get at auction. We’ve put off giving him our answer, but we received the bank’s final notice yesterday. Your show’s compensation buys us a few more months. Otherwise we’d be deeding this land to James.”
“Keep that between us.” Cole’s face paled beneath his farmer’s tan.
A heaviness filled her at the thought of the proud, hardworking Lovelands losing their land. It’d be devastating, especially for Cole, who’d sacrificed for it. He’d wanted it above all else. Even her. “I promise. It’s off the record.”
“I trust Katlynn,” Boyd vowed. “She was almost family.”
Almost. Her eyes stung at his staunch support. She would have loved to be a part of the tight-knit Loveland clan, so unlike her own.
“If the public discovers our financial status, people will think Pa’s marrying another rich woman for her money.” Cole’s fingers drummed on the table.
Tom stomped inside. “Who’s marrying for money? Sounds interesting.”
“Just debating causes for the feud,” Katlynn temporized, and the tip of Cole’s boot touched her foot beneath the table. Her eyes flew to his, and she melted a little at the glimmer of warmth in their blue depths.
“Throw in as much scandal as you can, and we’ve got America hooked.”
Cole’s eyes narrowed on Tom, shooting sparks.
“We’ll only report verifiable facts,” she hurried to assure Cole and Boyd.
“And speculate on those we can’t,” Tom cut in, not helping at all. “And you’re right, Katlynn. We are in the middle of nowhere. Can’t get a signal.”
“Could use the landline.”
Boyd pointed to a rotary phone mounted on the wall beside a cuckoo clock as old as the house.
Tom studied it a moment, then gingerly lifted the handset, turning it every which way. “Where are the buttons?”
Cole lifted an eyebrow as the left edge of his lips tipped up in an amused smile, his silent “can you believe this” look.
She flared her nose and scrunched her eyes, her old expression for “Shut it.” Then she flattened her lips to keep from smiling back at him.
She was here to work. Not flirt. Especially with an ex capable of shaking her hard-won confidence.
Tires crunched on the rocky drive outside. Tom peered through the window then whirled. “Good. The director’s found us. Mr. Loveland, would you show us the lay of the land? We need to scout the property for potential shots.”
“You got it.” Boyd grabbed his coat and shoved his arms through its sleeves. “It’d be a relief to resolve the feud before the wedding.” Boyd settled a wide-brimmed brown rancher’s hat over his head. “I’m hoping to make us all one happy family.”
“I should have said congratulations right away, Mr. Loveland.” She hugged Boyd and breathed in the comforting smell of his Old Spice cologne.
“Katlynn, you know to call me Boyd. Could have been Pa if you two had worked out.”
Tom’s openmouthed expression was quickly replaced by a speculative stare. “You were engaged to him?” He pointed at Cole, who rose to his full, towering height. “I mean. That’s a surprise. No judgment.” He backed through the door away from the advancing giant. “I’ll meet you outside, Mr. Loveland.” And with that, he scurried away.
“Twitchy guy, ain’t he?” Boyd observed, pulling on his gloves.
“Twitchy?” Katlynn almost laughed to hear the Hollywood power player reduced to those terms. Must be the Rocky Mountains effect. It put everything into perspective.
“Pa’s got it right.” Cole’s boots clomped on the wide-planked floor as he neared. “Want me to ride out with you?”
“No. Check on the heifer and calf after Katlynn’s finished her coffee.”
“I’m done with it.” Panic rose at being alone with Cole. “I’ll ride with you.”
Boyd’s gaze dropped to her designer heels. “You’re not dressed for the climbing we’ll be doing, let alone riding. Besides, you said you wanted to start interviewing family. Sierra will be in some time this morning. Daryl, too.”
“Thanks, Mr.... I mean, thanks, Boyd.” She turned to Cole with a sinking heart.
Great.
Just great.
Who didn’t want to rehash ancient history with the man who’d shattered her once fragile heart?
* * *
COLE MANEUVERED THE ATV around another rut a few minutes later, careful not to bounce the vehicle or spew dirt up at Katie-Lynn—Katlynn—since her dress probably cost more than he made in a month. Maybe two. Or three...
What did he know about dresses?
But this one looked expensive, like every inch of the new version of her he hardly recognized. Although, he had to admit she looked fine in the fitted black dress, her legs as long and sleek as he remembered.
“I’m sorry to hear your ranch is struggling,” she shouted over the roaring engine, her smooth platinum hair now wild, whipping around her flushed face in a golden-white stream.
“It’s not as bad as Pa made out,” his pride prompted him to holler back. Katie-Lynn was beautiful, successful and famous and who was he? A soon-to-be homeless cowboy with no prospects. Not exactly a catch by anyone’s standards, let alone a star like Katie-Lynn.
Not that he was looking to get caught...
But her knowing how low his family had fallen, financially, stung him hard.
He had to turn the ranch around without selling family secrets to the highest bidder and risking his father’s happiness. And he sure wasn’t selling to the Cades.
Katie-Lynn turned and mouthed something to him; he caught the word, “Foreclosure.”
He shook his head, keeping his eyes dead ahead in case they betrayed him, a trick he’d learned from a childhood spent keeping secrets. Katie-Lynn, on the other hand, had always lived her life out where anyone could see it, the good, the bad and the ugly, open and unafraid.
He’d admired that about her once.
Loved her for it.
Only now that trait might come back to bite him. If she revealed too much about their financial situation, shared it with the world, the Lovelands would never hold their heads up again in Carbondale, and his father’s chance at happiness might vanish if Joy changed her mind. He had to convince Katie-Lynn to back off the story.
He peered at her, briefly, from the corner of his eye, taking in the delicate slope of her nose, the soft curve of her cheek, the rounded point of her chin, and his heart eased. Beneath the war paint, she was still the girl who’d held his hand at his mother’s funeral, who’d kissed away his tears and listened as he’d rambled, raged and ranted during the most difficult time of his life. They used to climb up an ancient gnarled oak they’d dubbed their Say Anything tree and shout their problems to the wind, speaking everything they couldn’t say to anyone else.
Would she listen and agree to kill the story? Put him and his family ahead of her ambitions and career? She hadn’t before, but it was worth a shot.
A couple minutes later he parked the ATV by the calving shed, hurried around to Katie-Lynn’s side and helped her out. For a moment he stared deep into her blue eyes, and his heart stopped, the birds silenced, the wind stilled, and the entire world narrowed down to just her and the feel of her soft skin against his. He breathed in her expensive perfume and recalled her clean, cottony scent that used to remind him of laundry hung on a line to dry. Fresh and full of life.
“I miss the way you used to smell.”
He realized he said it out loud when her long lashes—artificial and alien-looking—blinked up at him. “You remember how I smelled?”
He forced himself to release her hand and nodded to the field behind the shed, heat stinging his cheeks. “The new calf’s over there,” he said gruffly.
She tilted her head and considered him for a long moment before nodding. “Let’s see it.”
His hand settled on the small of her back as he guided her across the uneven terrain. When they stopped at the fence, she climbed up one slat, heels and all, to lean over the top rail.
“Oh! He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” she breathed then turned her sparkling smile on him, full wattage. His mind seized like an overheating engine. Total meltdown. Speaking was clearly not an option. Luckily for him, Katie-Lynn had always been able to talk enough for them both.
“I love Brahmans,” she babbled on, and he closed his eyes and let his ears drink in the rushing, soothing sound. “They’ve always been my favorite. Their gray coats. The hump in their backs. So unique. Plus, they have the best temperaments. Look how sweet his mother is being to him. He’s nursing like a champ. When did you say he was born? Cole? You in there?”
His lids flew open. “A couple of hours ago.”
“Were you up all night watching her?”
He nodded.
Her nails, perfect red ovals to match her lipstick, lightly scraped his hand when she patted it. “You must be exhausted. I remember pulling those all-nighters with you. Remember the time when the calf was breach, and we turned it with the rope?”
“Surprised you remember.”
“There isn’t much I’ve forgotten about us.” She ducked her head and fiddled with the short zipper on the side of her dress.
He glanced at her bare ring finger, picturing the small, heart-shaped diamond he’d once placed there...the one still resting in his bedside drawer. “You’re not married?”
“No. Too busy for romance. You?”
He exhaled the air stuck in his lungs. What was it to him if she dated anyone? Yet it mattered, more than it should. “Same.”
They watched the nursing calf in silence. The loamy smells of fresh earth and dew-tipped grass was in the air, and a crisp wind blew down from the mountains. “You got rid of the pool.”
“The year after you left.” He hid his wince, recalling their first date at his sixteenth birthday party and his mother’s drowning. Katie had been by his side when he’d found his mother.
Back then Katie-Lynn had chattered when he couldn’t speak, held him when he couldn’t stand and touched him when he couldn’t feel. She’d acted as his buffer, allowing him to deal with the world from a distance, filtered through her sunshine.
“A lot has changed since then.” The Brahman heifer bellowed when she spied them on the fence, protective of her newborn.
“Your freckles,” he observed, watching the calf suckle.
“Freckles?”
He cocked his head and studied Katie-Lynn’s smooth, flawless skin. It resembled porcelain—fragile and untouchable—so unlike the country girl-next-door he’d known. Loved. “What happened to them?”
“My plastic surgeon lasered them off.” She said it like someone might say, “My dentist cleaned my teeth.” As though having a plastic surgeon was no big deal, and maybe it wasn’t in Hollywood.
“Why do you have a plastic surgeon?”
“To make me beautiful.”
He shook his head, marveling. “You already were pretty.”
He preferred pretty to beautiful the way he liked a daisy better than an orchid. One was fresh, open and bright. The other was perfect, waxy and exotic, which was why people prized them, he guessed. He’d always been more partial to natural wonders.
“Not pretty enough. Not by Hollywood standards.” She ran her hands through her tousled strands, smoothing them flat to her skull like a ribbon of golden silk.
“Why’d you dye your hair?”
“Platinum looks better on screen. You don’t like it?” Her teeth appeared on her bottom lip, white against scarlet, and he had the crazy urge to kiss her lipstick off to reveal her natural rose mouth underneath.
“It’s different. I liked it darker. Honey-brown.”
She tilted her face to the sun and closed her eyes. “I’m different.”
“I noticed.” She’d changed, and he hadn’t, living a hermit’s life except for volunteering at Fresh Start, a local rehab and mental health facility, and working the ranch with two of his siblings, Heath and Daryl. The chasm that’d opened between him and Katie-Lynn when they’d argued over their wedding yawned again at his feet, still too wide to be spanned.
“Wow! I forgot what cold felt like!” Katie-Lynn’s dress collar lifted in the wind and she hugged herself, shivering. His arm wrapped around her shoulders protectively, settling her against him, warm and snug. The remembered feel of her, the seamless fit, the sense of completeness, returned to him, sharp and sweet. Then she ducked away and slid a small distance down the fence. “I’m sorry your dad sprang me on you.”
“If I’d known, I never would’ve let you come.”
She fussed with the black-and-white concentric rings encircling her neck on a silver chain. “Why’s that?”
He hesitated a second. “Because I would have asked you... Heck...I am asking you to stop this production before it starts.”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows came together as she frowned. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You’re the star.”
“I don’t have that kind of power.”
His breath hissed between clenched teeth, and he forced himself to simmer down. “Who came up with this idea?”
She stiffened. “I did.”
Her words knocked thought clean out of his head, so he stared at her, mute.
“I’m sorry, Cole. I am.” She sighed and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I would never have come back unless...”
“Unless what?” he managed, reeling. She’d dealt his family this blow on purpose. She’d caused it, just like the wound she’d inflicted when she walked away from him and the life he’d offered.
“Nothing.” She stared straight ahead again. Overhead, barn swallows swooped and dived against a cloudless sky.
“Katie-Lynn—”
She held up a hand, interrupting him. “It’s Katlynn now.”
“Not for me. Because Katie-Lynn knows, better than anyone, why my family doesn’t need media digging up old secrets. Tell them you did some investigating and the story’s fake.”
“You’re in foreclosure. You need this money.”
He looked down at her; she was staring at the mother and calf. “I need my pa to have a peaceful, happy wedding. Quiet and uneventful.”
“Sounds like the one you wanted for us.”
He pointed to Mount Sopris, where one lonely hawk circled. “On a mountaintop, just our families and the preacher. What was wrong with that?”
Their disagreements while planning the wedding had revealed fundamental differences. Katie-Lynn wanted a large affair too showy for him. Worse, he would have gone into debt funding it given his family’s limited means.
“You knew how much I wanted a big wedding. Lots of people.”
“Lots of strangers,” he interjected. “People just coming for cake and booze. Why want them there?”
“Because I wanted them to know I was there. No one ever noticed me, and I wanted my wedding to be different. Just one day where I felt special, but you didn’t understand that, or me.”
“You wanted everyone’s attention. I wasn’t enough.” Because of their wedding arguments, he’d sensed, deep down, she’d never be content with the quiet, humble life he was prepared to offer.
“It’s the other way around,” she insisted. “You didn’t love me enough to move to LA when I got the job offer.”
“You knew me better than anyone else. Tell me...would I have liked it in LA?”
Just weeks before their nuptials, she’d received a major network job offer she couldn’t resist. When he told her he didn’t feel comfortable leaving the ranch, which had hit a rough patch, they’d called off the wedding. She couldn’t understand why he felt more responsible for taking care of the ranch than being with her, and he couldn’t understand why she cared more about a job than him... Clearly their priorities hadn’t been in sync.
Now as much as then it seemed...
They studied each other for a long moment then she shook her head, her face an open wound. He was pretty sure he didn’t look much better. “You’d hate it there.”
“And you hated living here. Deep down I knew this wasn’t the life you wanted. You love the spotlight and I’m...”
“Closed off,” she finished for him. “We were too young to make such a big decision.”
A gust of wind fluttered a strand of hair across her face, and he gently tucked it behind her ear. “We’re lucky we avoided making a big mistake.”
“Very lucky,” she said quietly, sounding immensely sad.
“Will you talk to someone about canceling the episode?”
“I can’t.”
He reined in his frustration. “Then promise me this won’t turn into a circus. You’ll stick to the feud story and nothing else. Not my mother’s suicide or the ranch’s troubles.”
“I’ll follow wherever the story takes me, and I’ll do my best to prevent anything from harming your pa’s big day. I care about him, too.”
“I guess we still have that in common at least.”
Then she smiled, just a flash, and something moved in Cole’s chest. Something warm, and something he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Let’s go back,” she said, jumping from the fence.
He paused to study the mother and calf a moment longer, his mind on Katie-Lynn and the danger she posed...not just to his family, but to his susceptible heart if he wasn’t careful.
