Steam erupted in Lane’s head.
Chapter 10
“Hey, Jimmy. How are you?” His words came out tight, clipped, as he stepped around a rack into the cowboy’s line of vision and sidled close to Natalie. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side.
She stiffened.
“Don’t miss me too bad, babe, while I make the rest of my selections and try this stuff on.” He grazed her cheek with his lips and had a hard time stopping there.
She shivered, flipped through her file and handed Jimmy a paper. “Here’s your list. All your choices are on the west wall.”
Jimmy huffed out a sigh and turned away.
Natalie pulled away from Lane. But it was too late. He’d felt her reaction to him. He grinned.
It wasn’t fair of him to use her physical reaction to him against her. But he’d use whatever advantage he had to get close enough to Natalie to win her heart.
* * *
When Lane got to the photo shoot, Natalie could see that his eyes matched the shirt she’d picked for him. Perfectly. Why did he have to be the ideal specimen of maleness? Muscle upon muscle of handsome cowboy. The shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, revealing his strength, but didn’t camouflage his narrow waist and hips.
And why did she have to oversee the photo shoot? Kendra knew what she was doing. So did Rayna. That’s why she’d convinced them to work with her on the campaign for the Cowtown Coliseum.
“What do you think, Natalie?” Kendra’s voice broke into her musings.
She forced her gaze away from Lane. “About?”
Kendra raised a brow and grinned. “Do we have enough shots of Lane? Or did you need to see more of him?”
Her face warmed. She definitely wanted to see more of him. In spite of everything. “That’s enough stills. But we need some live shots of our pickup man doing his job.”
“I’m on it.” Lane jogged toward the arena. Was he eager to escape her, too?
Natalie watched until he disappeared.
“I think you need to supervise the live action.” Kendra shot her a knowing grin.
“I think you’re right.” Natalie rounded the stands in time to see a bronc careen from the chute. Wyatt sat astride it as Lane brought his horse in close. The buzzer sounded and Lane seamlessly helped Wyatt off the bronc and onto his horse. The bronc charged toward the gate as the chute boss opened it.
The chute boss she knew all too well.
“Am I done yet?” Lane trotted over to her with a glower on his face.
Had Jimmy said or done something to set Lane off? “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t sign up for pretend rodeos.”
“No, but you’re Cowtown staff and we’re here to promote the rodeo.” She propped her hands on her hips.
“It’s fake. But the broncs are real. I didn’t think about it until we were out there, but someone could get hurt.”
“That’s why you’re here. It’s your job to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Trust me, pickup men can’t always keep an injury—or worse—at bay.” He winced. “It doesn’t make sense to put a rider at risk for a camera. Can’t you get your film at a real rodeo, when these guys are out here risking their lives anyway, instead of setting them up for an extra chance for injury?”
What he said made sense.
“I’m not trying to be difficult,” he continued. “It’s just—I’ve seen the damage a bronc can do to a man.” His jaw twitched. “I reckon you’re setting up a fake bull ride, too.”
Natalie certainly didn’t want to be held responsible if anything went wrong. “You’re right. I’ll talk to management and arrange a shoot next Friday night.” She turned and called out to her crew. “That’s a wrap. I’ll get with everyone on the details before the next shoot.”
The crew started breaking down their equipment.
Lane swung down from his horse. “I know this will prolong your job, but I appreciate it.”
“I appreciate your concerns. You take your job very seriously.”
“I have to. I don’t need any more good men like Mel Gentry on my conscience.”
“You can’t blame yourself for Mel’s death. He knew the risks.”
“He did, and it was his choice. But I still can’t get it out of my head.” His voice cracked.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” Lane led his horse out of the arena.
When had he become this selfless, caring man? A man she could trust with her heart? Could she trust him to handle her truth?
* * *
Natalie spotted a red 1940 Ford Coupe, a black ’57 Chevy two-door hardtop, and a blue ’69 Camaro among the antique cars in various colors and styles from numerous decades lining Aubrey’s Main Street. Tractors and farm equipment rounded out the display, while Aubrey’s own superstar, Garrett Steele—live and in person—crooned country love songs from the stage.
Her cousin Jenna would keep her distance until he cleared out of town. Why could none of the Wentworth girls manage to get over their high school sweethearts?
She caught a glimpse of Lane in the crowd. Butterflies zoomed around in Natalie’s stomach. The pie auction seemed endless, with her pies up next.
Behind the auctioneer, Rayna held her pie. Clay bid against Rayna’s dad until the price was up to two hundred dollars. For a pie?
Clay bought the first pie, then folded and let her dad have the second one.
“Our next pie—” the auctioneer paused to read from his list “—is blueberry. Actually, there’s two of ’em made by Miss Natalie Wentworth.”
A few catcalls echoed through the gathering. Her cheeks heated as she noticed a couple of all-too-familiar cowboys.
Lane glowered.
“Settle down, boys,” Clay drawled.
“We’ll start the bidding at one hundred dollars.”
Lane raised his hand.
“Hundred dollar bid, now one-ten, now one-ten, will ya give me one-ten?” The auctioneer made the rhythmic chant sound effortless.
“One-ten,” one of the catcalling cowboys called.
“One-fifty,” Lane shouted.
Natalie’s cheeks heated again.
“One-fifty bid, now one-sixty, now one-sixty, will ya give me one-sixty?” the auctioneer called.
One cowboy folded.
The other raised his hand. “One-sixty.”
“Two-fifty.” Lane bellowed.
Natalie’s gaze flew to his.
He grinned and tipped his hat.
Her face steamed.
“Two-fifty bid, now two-sixty, now two-sixty, will ya give me two-sixty?” the auctioneer chanted, trying to up the bid.
The cowboy from her past looked down.
“Going once, going twice, sold to the young man in the green shirt.”
The crowd applauded as Lane stepped forward to claim his pie. His fingers grazed hers as she passed it off to him.
“Hope you’ll join me in a bit for pie.” He winked at her.
Her face flamed.
“Now who’ll start the bidding for blueberry pie number two?” the auctioneer called.
“Two hundred fifty,” Lane shouted.
The crowd remained silent.
“Two-fifty bid, now two-sixty, now two-sixty, will ya give me two-sixty?”
Silence.
“Going once, going twice, sold to the same young man. I believe this boy likes blueberry pie. Or maybe it’s the little lady behind the pie.”
Natalie’s face scalded.
Lane settled up with the cashier, grabbed his pies and offered his arm to Natalie. “There’s a nice tree over there for eating pie under.”
The crowd applauded
as he pulled her away.
“What are you going to do with two blueberry pies?”
“Eat ’em.”
“But you just spent five hundred dollars. On pie. It cost less than twenty bucks to make them both. I would have made you one for free.”
“It’s for a good cause. And it was worth every penny to get to eat pie with you.”
Warmth curled through her stomach as he spread a blanket under a tree.
She sat down cross-legged and Lane joined her. Too close.
“Sorry about those guys. Keep hoping they’ll grow up.” He caught her hand in his.
Had he bought her pie for show? She pulled away.
“What?”
“You don’t have to pretend.” She gestured toward the crowd.
“There’s no pretense in how I feel about you, Nat.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “So, are you going to Brother Timothy and Sister Joan’s twenty-fifth anniversary party?”
Her heart hammered so hard, surely he could hear it. “Planning to.”
“We could go together?”
Her breath stalled. “Maybe.”
“Wonder why they’re having it at the Ever After Chapel instead of the church?”
“I heard Joan say that’s where their wedding was.” The Ever After Chapel. Her childhood dream. Lane and the Ever After Chapel. Her heart sped.
“What?”
“What, what?” Her gaze snagged on his.
“I can feel your pulse racing.”
“Oh, um.” She bit her lip. “The Ever After Chapel. I used to dream of getting married there when I was a little girl.” True. Not the reason her heart sped. But he didn’t need to know all the details.
“I guess lots of little girls do.” He forked up a piece of pie. “Open up.”
“I can feed myself.”
“Humor me. My grandparents always fed each other the first bite of pie.”
Being with him like this—with him looking at her like that—took her breath away. Obediently, she opened her mouth. As the sweet berries exploded on her tongue, he handed her his fork and closed his eyes.
She fed him a bite. He sat there, chewing with his eyes still closed, moaning about how wonderful her pie was, with blueberries smeared on the corner of his lip. Oh, how she’d like to kiss the smear away.
Lord, can there be a future for us?
* * *
Going to church soothed Natalie. Who’d have ever thought she’d go on Sunday morning and evening, plus Wednesday night? By choice?
She smoothed her hands over the fluttery black skirt Caitlyn insisted she buy and hurried down the aisle of the sanctuary. No dillydallying in the lobby to give Lane time to show up, and she had to get a seat between friends so he couldn’t sit by her. The feelings she’d had toward him lately needed to be doused. Especially after yesterday’s pie incident.
How could she expect him to handle her truth when she didn’t understand it herself?
Focus on God and Hannah. Period.
But Lane was already there. Beside Clay.
Natalie stopped. Maybe she’d sit somewhere else. No, with three couples seated, if she took the empty spot by Kendra there’d be several bodies between them. She hurried to the pew. Yes, Lacie or Star would sit beside her and everything would be fine. All the couples greeted her and Lane leaned forward to shoot her a brain-numbing smile.
“You okay?” Kendra whispered.
“Fine.”
“You seem nervous. Is it Lane or Hannah and Wyatt?”
“Why does everybody think there’s something between Lane and me?”
“We have eyes. He’s always with you at the arena. And he bought your pies. For a lot of money.”
She sighed. “It started out all for show. But now, I don’t know.”
“Huh?”
“Lane saw one of the cowboys hit on me. He decided to convince everyone we’re an item so my former reputation won’t haunt me.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t think it’s for show anymore. Maybe it’s just me, but he kind of looks like a lovestruck bull.”
Natalie laughed. “Such a romantic image.”
“Mind if I sit here?” Lane’s baritone. Right. Beside. Her.
“Not at all.” Her voice quivered right along with her insides.
The pianist began playing. People took their seats and the service began.
Natalie sang all the hymns with more fervor than usual as she tried to concentrate on anything but Lane. Forgive me, Lord, for being so distracted.
As Brother Timothy began his sermon, her brain settled. “Forgiveness. If we don’t forgive others, how can we ever look Jesus in the eye when we get to glory?”
“Turn to Luke 23:34.” Brother Timothy flipped through his Bible. “The letters in red—a cry from Jesus. ‘Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.’ Folks, while Jesus hung on the cross, people cast lots for His clothing, hurled insults at Him, and taunted Him to save Himself. And what did He do? He prayed for His father to forgive them. Who are we to hold sin against anyone? Much less ourselves?”
The words sank into Natalie’s soul. God had forgiven her. For everything she’d ever done. Did He want her to forgive herself? For hanging out in bars and picking up men? For getting pregnant, for almost aborting and then abandoning Hannah?
The piano started playing. The altar call. She’d missed the end of the sermon. Pressure built in her chest with an overwhelming need to visit the altar.
“Excuse me.” Natalie sidestepped Lane and four more friends, and went forward.
She knelt at the altar. Yes, God had forgiven her and He wanted her to forgive herself. “Lord, I need help to forgive myself. I’ve done so many bad things. And I knew about You. Forgive me for turning my back on You and the way You wanted me to live. Help me to live the way You want me to, to make the right choices and to overcome temptations from my former life. Give me strength and wisdom.”
A weight lifted from her shoulders. She stood and hurried back to her pew. Instead of climbing over everyone again, she stood at the end beside Wyatt.
The service ended and people began filing out of the pews and toward the lobby.
“I’m proud of you.” Wyatt hugged her.
“For?” A totally platonic hug from the father of her child. It felt good.
“Turning your life around.”
“Me, too. But I think God did the turning.”
Star gave her a quick hug and her other friends filed past. She stood at the end of the pew, clutching the rail, weak-kneed at the changes washing over her.
“I hope you’ll be careful.” Lane’s voice shot a shudder through her.
“In what way?” She met his gaze.
“In your relationship with Wyatt.”
All the peace Natalie had only just discovered melted away as her insides boiled.
Did he honestly think she’d try to come between Wyatt and Star to get closer to Hannah?
“How dare you? I’d never—” But in the past, she might have. “Okay, maybe I wasn’t above marriage busting at one time. But I am now, and who made it your business anyway?”
“That’s not what I meant.” He swallowed hard. “But I know for a fact that sometimes feelings resurface when you least expect it. I don’t want you to get caught up in anything.”
“Why don’t you worry about what you get caught up in and stay out of my life?” She jabbed a finger in his solid chest. Muscle upon muscle. Why had she touched him? She stalked out of the church.
Chapter 11
Still steaming, Natalie turned into her driveway. A gray truck. Wyatt’s truck in her driveway? Wyatt sat on the porch steps. Star and Hannah were in the truck.
She parked in the garage, got out and hurried t
o meet him. “Is something wrong?”
“I made a decision.”
Her stomach twisted. They’d been getting along well. Surely it wasn’t bad. “Am I going to like it?”
“I think we should tell Hannah who you are. It’ll be less jarring for her now, while she’s young.”
Bubbles burst inside Natalie. “That would be awesome. When?”
“Now? And I think if she wants to, she can stay here a few hours this afternoon. Unless you have something else going on.”
“I don’t, but if I did, I’d cancel.”
“I’ll go get her.”
Her insides fluttered as if thousands of butterflies took flight. “Wait. What are we going to tell her?”
“The truth. Just follow my lead. She’s young. She won’t understand everything at first. And it probably won’t be as big a deal to her as it is to us.” He scrubbed a hand against his jaw. “I don’t know what she should call you.”
“Natalie is fine. Or we can let her decide.”
“As long as Star has dibs on Mommy.”
A knife jabbed her heart. But Star had earned the title. Natalie hadn’t. “No problem. Was it Star’s idea to tell her?”
“No. Came up with it all on my own.”
“Is she okay with it?”
“Yes.”
“All right.” Natalie smoothed a hand over her skirt. “How do I look?”
Wyatt grinned. “Right pretty. You clean up good.”
“Thanks. You do, too.”
He turned toward his truck. Seconds later, Hannah was perched in his arms, and Star climbed down from the truck. As they walked toward Natalie, her whole body shook.
Hannah’s eyes grew wide. “Natawee has big house. Like Aunt Caitlyn’s and Grammy’s.”
“Let me show you around.” Natalie held out her hand.
Wyatt set Hannah down on the porch and her small hand slid into Natalie’s. Nerves prevailed as she gave a tour. Thankfully, her parents’ housekeeper made daily visits and everything was in place.
Finished with the second floor, they came back down the stairs. “When I was a little girl, I grew up in Grammy’s house. It was based on a dollhouse Grammy had when she was a little girl. When Caitlyn and I were little, we played with the dollhouse and when we grew up, we each got a life-sized dollhouse.”
Rodeo Regrets Page 12