Contents
Other Titles from Redbud Press
Title
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Dear Reader
Bonus chapters - Kiss the Cowboy
Bonus chapters - Secondhand Cowboy
Bonus chapters - Saving Justice
Other Titles from Redbud Press
Copyright
Saving Justice by Susan Crawford
Secondhand Cowboy by Lacy Williams
The Art of Falling by Julie Jarnagin
Kiss the Cowboy by Julie Jarnagin
Firefly Summer by Kathleen Y’Barbo
Journeys of the Heart (an anthology) by Erica Vetsch, Winnie Griggs and Camille Elliott Seaside Gifts by Gayle Roper Love’s a Stage by Rene Gutteridge and Cheryl McKay
The Art of Falling
By Julie Jarnagin
To Knox. Your first year has been a fun and amazing adventure. I’m so blessed to be your mom. I love you.
Chapter One
Cowboy hat in hand, Wyatt Lawrence squinted at the painting.
His mom stepped beside him. “What do you think?”
The large canvas consisted of nothing more than an orange square with a red rectangle underneath it. “I think they forgot to finish this one.”
His mom laughed and hooked her arm in his. “Thank you for coming with me. I know spending the morning in an art museum isn’t really your thing.”
He looked down at her big smile. Man, it was good to see her happy. She deserved it. His mother might look unassuming with her gold rim glasses and sensible shoes, but she was the strongest person he knew. “You know I’d do anything for you.”
She patted his hand.
When the doctor had uttered the word “cancer” almost a month ago, he’d felt like they might both be crushed by the weight of it, but after the initial shock, his mom insisted she wasn’t afraid. Good thing, because Wyatt was terrified. There weren’t a lot of things that scared a man who made his living by riding a sixteen hundred-pound bucking bull. That was nothing compared to this. “How are you doing?” he asked. “Do you want to get something to eat? Are you feeling okay?”
She rolled her eyes and pulled away from him. “Stop fussing over me. I’ve told you a hundred times I feel fine.”
He followed her past a group and toward the next painting. “I read online that you should be eating healthier. I’ll do it with you. What did you have for breakfast this morning? Do you want to stop and get some groceries on the way home?”
Turning toward him, she put her hands on her hips, a sure sign of annoyance. “Wyatt Gallagher Lawrence.”
Correction. She wasn’t just annoyed—she was really annoyed.
“Since when do you read things online? I thought I told you to stay off those medical sites. They’ll only make you worry more, and I want you to treat me like everything’s normal.”
Normal wasn’t good enough for Wyatt. Normal meant only visiting her for holidays and the occasional dinner when he was back in Dallas. He regretted not being there for her more before the diagnosis.
She’d always said she hated seeing him get thrown around on the back of a bull. For the first time in his career, he understood what it must feel like for her. It seemed the people in danger might have an easier job than the person who loved them and had to sit on the sidelines and watch. “I’ll do my best.”
She nodded. “Good. Now let’s go see the European art exhibit.”
“You’re the boss.”
Heels clicked across the floor as a woman in a green dress and long blonde hair rounded the corner, walking into the large room of paintings. Her blue eyes met Wyatt’s gaze, and she gave a half smile. Something sparked in his chest at the sight of her, and everything moved in slow motion, like those eight seconds on the back of a bull. It was as if his heart knew the moment would change his life, and he needed to remember every second of it.
He nodded, and the woman tucked her hair behind her ear.
Blinking, he tried to shake off the daze he was in. Was this what those people who believed in love at first sight experienced? Of course he didn’t believe in that stuff. He was just feeling sentimental today, or maybe it was a natural reaction to someone that beautiful. She stopped to talk to an older woman leading a tour.
He focused back on his mom, who eyed him with amusement. “Men.”
“I’m looking at the painting.” He pointed. “That portrait of a goose behind her.”
“First of all, that’s not a goose. Second, you shouldn’t lie to your mother.” She nudged him. “Go talk to her. Ask her what she thinks of that painting.”
He didn’t need coaching from his mother on how to talk to women. He draped his arm around her. “It isn’t the time for that. Today is all about you. I’m already talking to the prettiest girl in the room.”
“Every day is a good day for meeting a nice woman, especially a beautiful one. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
His mother loved to remind him of that. He was only twenty-seven, certainly not ancient.
“Excuse me,” his mother said, her voice echoing through the room as she walked toward the woman. “Miss.”
Panicked, he followed her. “Mom!” He whisper-yelled. “What are you doing?” But he knew good and well what was on her mind. His mother was a shameless matchmaker when it came to Wyatt, and a terrible one at that. She constantly tried to set him up with women she’d met, or one of her friends’ relatives, or random gals from the supermarket.
She didn’t stop. “I just want to ask her a question.”
And he thought a bull was stubborn. “Mom,” he said under his breath.
But the woman had already turned toward them and was headed their way. “How can I help you?”
He’d given in to his mother’s schemes once before to disastrous results. It must have been five, no six, years ago. He’d shown up for the blind date, and it had turned out to be the worst of his life. The girl had spent the entire night on her phone, texting her ex-boyfriend.
Even if his mom were able to come up with someone he liked, a woman who wasn’t still hung up on someone else, he wasn’t the easiest guy to date. He lived on the road most of the year, putting his life on the line for a living. Right now, he was married to the circuit, and as much as his mom wanted him settled with a couple of her grandkids, it simply wasn’t in the cards for him.
“You work here?” his mother asked the woman.
“I do,” she said.
“I’m Lorraine, and this is my son, Wyatt. We were just discussing that painting over there. Is that a goose?”
Nice.
Looking bewildered, the woman gave a quick glance over her shoulder. “Um, no.” She turned back to them. “You’re Wyatt Lawrence,” she said matter-of-factly.
He got his share of fans when he was at an event. He was used to being recognized in those circles, but at an art gallery? “Have we met?”
“No, but you’re not an easy man to get in touch with. I’m Heather Tornsten. I’ve been emailing you about an event we’re having here at the museum.”
“What a coincidence,” his mother said brightly.
A little too much of a coincidence, Wyatt thought. His mom was up to something. “I’m not great about keeping up with my inbox. Refresh my memory.”
“It’s our annual fundraiser. We’re doing a western, cowboy theme this year. We’ll have a fancy dinner, dancing, and an auction. I’m looking for a celebrity emcee.�
�
Celebrity. The word made him shudder. “I’m not sure I’m the right guy for the job. I’m hardly a celebrity.”
She reached out and put a delicate hand on his arm, a thin gold chain dangling around her wrist. “A hometown boy making a name for himself as a bull rider. You’re the perfect person to help me.”
Shoot. Why did she have to be so nice? It only made it harder to tell her no. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
Her gaze darted to his mother and back to him. “Unfortunately, there’s no time for that. The fundraiser is less than six weeks away. I need to get the invitations sent out. I have a lot of details that need to be finalized.”
Between weekend rodeos and his mom’s doctors’ appointments, his schedule was tight. “That seems kind of last minute.”
She grimaced. “When you didn’t call me back, I secured our second choice, a popular country singer, but after his recent run-in with the law, that isn’t going to work out. So I’m in trouble. I really need your help.”
Wyatt didn’t need this kind of distraction in his life right now. His focus would already be stretched thin. “I’m sorry, but I—”
“Why don’t you two discuss it over lunch?” his mom said. “You can tell him all about your event.”
He gave his mother a pointed look. “I’m sure she’s busy.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Heather said. “Are you free today?”
Lorraine clasped her hands together. “Today would be perfect.” The women started talking about nearby restaurants and meeting places. Now it was two against one, and Wyatt knew when he’d been defeated. Of course, there could be worse things than having Heather join them for lunch.
“I’ll meet you in the lobby at 11:30,” Heather said. “Enjoy the rest of your visit.” With that she clicked away, her long hair swinging behind her.
He turned to his mom. “Now we have to eat lunch with her, and then I’m going to have to tell her that I won’t be the emcee for some fancy fundraiser.”
“No, honey. We’re not going to have lunch with her. You’re going to have lunch with her.”
“Excuse me?”
His mom blinked up at him. “I have a hair appointment. Sure, I might lose it when I start chemo, but that doesn’t mean I want all those cute young doctors to see my gray.” She fluffed her brown hair with her fingers.
He’d been duped. His mother had set him up. “What did you do?”
She tugged at the leather purse on her shoulder. “I’m sure I told you about my appointment.”
“I know you’re up to something. Spill it.”
She slumped. “Fine. When you kept ignoring her emails, she went looking for your phone number and ended up calling me. We had the most wonderful talk, and I wanted to help her.”
He groaned, feeling cornered. She’d suckered him into this and probably knew he’d go through with it just to keep her happy. The woman was shameless, using her cancer to manipulate him. And of course it would work. What else could he do? “Why didn’t you call me and ask me to do it?”
“You would have said no. And that would have been fine, except I Googled her.”
“We’re here because you stalked her on the Internet?” He shook his head, sorry he’d ever shown her how to use her tablet for more than reading books. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now…
“When I saw how cute she was, I thought…” His mother had seen a pretty young blonde on the screen and instantly heard wedding bells in his future.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
She grabbed his hand. Her fingers were freezing. Poor circulation, or something more? She looked up with concerned eyes. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”
He tilted his chin down. “You two planned this whole thing. You both lied to me?”
“You can’t stay mad at me. I have cancer.” A grin snuck onto the corners of her lips.
“You know you only get to use the ‘I have cancer’ card once. I mean, they only give the Make-a-Wish kids one trip. Use it wisely.”
“This is worth it. Trust me. You’re going to adore her.”
The woman who’d just manipulated him into meeting with her about her event? He doubted it. “I don’t like being tricked.”
“Don’t blame her. It was my idea.”
“I’m going to hear her out about the auction, but that’s it. Don’t get any ideas.”
His mom walked away, dismissing him. “Yes, dear. But you also have to be open to whatever happens.”
He caught up to her. “Like I’ve told you before, I’m not looking for a wife, especially not now. Bull riding isn’t conducive to relationships.” He’d watched plenty of other riders get married and either end up divorced or off the circuit within a couple of years. “Right now, I’m focused on two things, taking care of you and becoming a world-champion bull rider.”
“Well, right now I’m focused on you meeting a nice girl, so indulge me. Just this once.”
#
When Heather stepped into the lobby, she found Wyatt on a bench with his elbows on his knees and his hat still in his hands.
Lorraine had told Heather so much about him she felt like she knew him. Of course his mom seemed more than a little biased, because no one was as perfect as she’d described Wyatt. On the other hand, Lorraine had told her he was “a very nice looking young man,” which had proved to be a gross understatement. He had a combination of cowboy toughness and sweet approachable boy-next-door dimples Heather usually only saw in movies.
One glaring fault, however, put him clearly in the no dating zone. How could an intelligent woman like Lorraine be supportive of him doing something as stupid as voluntarily climbing on the back of a bull? Heather had begged and pleaded with her own brother to give up all the risky stuff, but it hadn’t worked. Look where it had gotten them. After her brother had been killed in the BASE jumping accident, her dad had thrown himself into his work. Her mom had focused on worrying about Heather. And Nana, well, Nana would always be the one who kept the family going after such a tragic loss. “Chin up, courage out,” she always said. But Heather’s brother’d had a little too much courage.
Wyatt stood as she walked toward him. She felt bad for deceiving him into meeting with her, but she’d been desperate. She’d worked on this fundraiser for months. Now all she needed was the perfect name to put on the invitation. A real bull rider. The donors would eat it up. “Where is Lorraine?” she asked.
He frowned. “Apparently my mother has a hair appointment that popped up,” he said, skepticism dripping from his voice.
“Oh. I thought she’d be joining us for lunch.” Heather had hoped Lorraine would insist that her son help with the fundraiser.
Half of the reason she’d gone through with this crazy plan was because Wyatt’s mom had seemed so pleasant when they’d spoken on the phone. The woman had clearly been looking out for her son. Heather remembered Lorraine’s words from their phone conversation. “Sometimes men need a little nudge in the right direction. Once he meets you in person and hears what you have to say, I’m sure he’ll thank both of us for this.”
Maybe mothers really didn’t know best, because right now, the cowboy staring at her only looked irritated. Yet even with the scowl, he was handsome. The women who often gave large donations to the museum would love him. His features were chiseled and his body athletic, but he had a scar just above his eyebrow to remind everybody he was a bull rider. He probably had women throwing themselves at him.
“If you’d rather not—”
“It’ll be great,” Heather said, shoving away her doubts. She wasn’t in the habit of going out alone with strangers, but it was the middle of the day, so it would probably be fine this one time. “I was just a little surprised.”
His expression softened, and he smiled. “My mother’s good at that. God bless her.”
A tough cowboy with a soft spot for his mom. “That’s sweet.”
His grin disappea
red. “Don’t tell any of the other riders.”
“My lips are sealed.”
He swept his hat out in front of her. “After you.”
They walked together toward the door. “So I guess you’ve figured out that your mom and I talked about all this.”
He pulled the glass door open for her. “She’s not great at keeping secrets. I’m amazed I didn’t see it coming.”
They stepped out into the fresh air. “I’m sorry for going along with it, but when she offered to help—”
“Trust me. I understand. The woman could convince a cat to jump into a cold bucket of water.”
She laughed. “That’s not exactly how I was going to phrase it, but she made a good case.”
“She thinks she knows what’s best for me.”
Finally, something they had in common. “I get it. Once my nana paid someone to go into my apartment and steal all the clothes Nana didn’t like. Then she offered to take me shopping.”
“Whoa. That’s the big leagues right there.” He pushed the hat onto his head. “And your mom?”
“It’s a different kind of smothering. She worries about me a lot. Calls me to make sure I remember to lock my doors. That kind of thing.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “What does Lorraine have to say about you being a bull rider?”
“I know she worries, but when she figured out I was never going to give it up, she stopped asking. I think she secretly pretends I’m a dentist or a high school football coach or something.”
The sounds of the city surrounded them—the traffic, construction in the distance, and people on the sidewalks. “I can’t really blame her. Don’t you ever worry about getting hurt?”
“I’ve seen plenty of guys injured. I know the risks, but it’s when you hesitate, doubt yourself, that you make mistakes. So I try not to think about those things too much.”
She shuddered. It all sounded too familiar. Her family had had the same conversations with her brother time and time again, but he lived for the thrill. Whether it was jumping out of an airplane or rock climbing, he was always doing something for an adrenaline rush. Her family’s worst fears had come true when his young life had ended way too early because of something as senseless as BASE jumping. Who came up with parachuting off the side of a cliff as a sport, anyway? “Do you ever feel bad that you’re putting your family through that?”
The Art Of Falling Page 1