“Uh, sure.” Kat dug into her pocket, produced her cell. “Call my assistant, Cari. She can find just about anyone.”
Piper grabbed the phone. “Stay put. I’ll find her.” She turned to Kat. “And tell Rafe that we’re rooting for him.”
Rafe gritted his teeth so hard that he thought his molars might crumble and limped back to the locker room.
The EMT walked beside him, a little skittish and visibly peeved after Rafe had nearly taken his head off. Like it or not, this was the real Rafe Noble. At least if he wanted to survive it was.
He’d taken the ride too seriously. It had ceased to become a sport, an adrenaline high, and had become something that gave him purpose. Something he put his heart and soul into.
The more he cared, the more it hurt when he wrecked. As soon as he hit the ground, the fear rushed through him, and he was back in the Las Vegas arena, watching the hooves crash down on his best friend.
Paralyzed.
Defeated.
He opened the door to the locker room and pushed the EMT back. “Leave me alone.”
“Let me look at your knee—”
“Stay away from me.” He slammed the door behind him. The last thing he needed was to have someone see him shut down and weep at the pain.
Thankfully, the rest of the contestants congregated out in the hallway, watching the other riders, helping them mount the bulls, giving pep talks. Technically the bull riders might be competing against each other, but the real opponents were the bulls.
Rafe leaned against his locker, breathing hard. He’d felt his knee rip when that bull switched directions on him, and it tore further when he landed.
In the past, Rafe would have sworn. Instead, he sent his fist into the lockers. The entire row shuddered.
He closed his eyes, frustration sweeping over him, and crumpled to the floor.
“You lost your hat.”
Rafe didn’t look up as he shielded his face with his hand. “What are you doing here?”
He heard Kitty walk toward him. She climbed over the bench and sat on it. “I brought you your hat.”
He reached for it, not looking at her, staring instead at those ridiculous red boots. “Thanks. Now leave me alone.”
“Oh no, you’re not getting it back,” she said, snatching the hat away. “I want you to sign it. For my Rafe Noble collection.”
He frowned, anger the easiest emotion to latch on to. Did she think his sitting here on the floor might be for her amusement? Did she not figure out that his entire body screamed in defeat? that he might have damaged his knee beyond repair?
No, more than that, that if he wanted to ride again, it would have to be on PeeWee, the bull that could finish him off?
“Gimme my hat.”
“No.” Kitty put it on her head, made a face. “I suppose the smell will make it sell better on eBay. Rafe Noble’s hat from his last ride.”
“That wasn’t my last ride,” Rafe snarled, not sure where those words had come from because . . . well, yes, it had been.
“Your fans might agree, but I know when I see quit. And you have it written all over you.”
He lunged for his hat. Kitty jerked away and he fell back against the lockers.
Her smile dimmed. She took off the hat, rubbed her hand along the crown, and fingered the arrowhead he’d stuck in the band. “You know why your fans love you?”
Rafe glared at her, hating how pretty she looked with her brown hair tumbled down around her shoulders, dressed in a GetRowdy shirt like a fan. The slightest remnants of the Montana sun remained on her freckled nose, in the shine of her beautiful eyes. Right then, all he could think of was her in his arms under the fireworks. And how he’d wanted to be the man she said she believed in.
A noble man.
“Your fans love you because you embody for us what we want to do.”
“You want to ride bulls?” He reached again for his hat and wished she’d put up more of a fight when he grabbed it from her hand.
“No. I want to go after what I want with the kind of courage you have. I want to fight my fears and get on that bull and dig in my spurs and hold on to the dream.”
Rafe swallowed, his throat thick and tight. He wanted to ask about her dream, but the words wouldn’t emerge. In that moment he knew the answer he wanted and couldn’t bear for it to be wrong.
But like she always did, Kitty knew him and how to read his mind to apply the balm he needed. She knelt beside him and ran her hand over his face. “I want you, Rafe Noble. I’ve been falling for you since the day you asked me if I wanted your autograph. I never should have said yes to Bradley, and I’m sorry for that. You make me feel like the woman I’m supposed to be. The woman who shows you that God loves you.”
He wasn’t sure what to say, how to speak the words piled in his chest. The ones that told her that she’d somehow freed him to be the man he wanted to be. The man who lived up to said name. So he gave it his best try. “I’m . . . falling in love with you too, Katherine. I should have said it, should have followed you to New York.”
She looked away.
Rafe turned her face toward him and lifted her chin. “Please forgive me for the way I treated you. I’ll do anything to help you raise money for those kids.”
Kitty smiled and framed his face with her hands. “Yeah, I know.” Then, while he sat there, broken in every way, she kissed him.
He curled his gloved hand around her neck and kissed her back. Like before, he lost himself in her touch, in her love. In the magic that was Kitty Russell Breckenridge.
Rafe leaned back, touching her forehead to his. “Wow, you’re so beautiful; words don’t seem enough.”
She shook her head. “You’re in delirious pain.”
“That’s true, but it doesn’t affect my eyesight.” He blew out a breath as a fresh wave of pain washed over him.
Kitty sat back, looked at his leg. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
He nodded as she unbuckled his chaps and then the brace, easing it off his leg. He managed not to cry out, but when she ran her thumb down his face, he knew it showed.
“You’re seeing the doc.” Kitty came around behind him, shoving her hands under his arms, pulling him, with his help, from the floor. She looped his arm over her shoulder. “Then we’re going to figure out how to get you through that last ride.” It sounded more like a command than a pep talk.
“What? I don’t—”
“I know you want this, Rafe. And I believe in you. You’re the toughest bull rider I know, and you can figure out how to stay on that bull for eight seconds.”
If he hadn’t seen her forced smile, he might not have known what it cost her to say that. But she didn’t understand the situation.
“I drew PeeWee for my next bull.”
The name registered nothing on her face.
“The bull that killed my friend.” He winced as she moved him toward the door.
She didn’t pause or glance at him. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Kitty!” He slammed his hand on the door before she could open it.
She looked at him. “What? So you have to ride the same bull. So you might need God a little more than usual for this ride. God never said bull riding would be easy.”
He blinked at her.
“I’d think a big tough guy like you should know that bad things happen out there. It’s nobody’s fault. They just do. But God has asked you to do this big thing, and you have the opportunity to show the world that there’s more to Rafe Noble than a bad attitude and a poster-boy smile. That you have the stuff inside that makes you a real hero. The kind of hero Manny needs.” Her voice dropped. “The kind of hero I need.” She ran her hand down his vest. “The thing is, I need to know that you’re sold out for this and trusting God to help you if I’m going to sit in the stands and not go crazy with worry.”
A tear formed in the corner of her eye, and she wiped it away. “I believe in you, Rafe. And I’m . . . I’m impressed. So don’t let me down, cowboy.�
�
Rafe didn’t deserve her; he knew that much. But he wasn’t so stupid as to tell her that. Or to let her down. In that moment, the cold streak of fear turned hot inside him. “Okay, cowgirl,” he said as he opened the door. “Let’s do this.”
Kitty was right there, helping him down to the sports doctor; persuading the doc to tape him up, snap his brace back on, and sign off on his next ride; getting Rafe back down to the chutes; and kissing him hard before he climbed onto PeeWee, the killer bull.
She gave him a thumbs-up as he lowered himself onto the animal and smiled as he let the fear flush out, replacing it with a useful determination. He saw her fight face as he centered himself, wound the bull rope around PeeWee’s chest, tightened it, smacked his grip and his vest, then gripped the rail.
Rafe didn’t look at her then, but he knew she stood there, believing in him as he nodded to the gate men for the bull to take him on his ride.
Mary sat a long time in the pool of moonlight at Charlie’s grave, smelling the prairie grasses, listening to the breeze, feeling it cool on her skin. Finally she rose and headed back to the house. Her house.
She let herself in the back door, and in the silence, just before she closed it, she heard footsteps on the back porch.
Mary jumped and grabbed the .22 she kept by the door. “Who’s out there?” She stuck the gun out, muzzle first. “I’m not afraid to use this!”
“Don’t shoot!” The voice came from the darkness.
“Show yourself.” She flicked on the outside back light, but the trespasser moved away. “I don’t want to shoot you.”
“I don’t want to be shot.”
“Then leave now.”
The man stepped into the light. “I’m not leaving.”
Time and probably life had thinned him, scraped the youthful edge off his handsome face, drained the dreams from his eyes. But the compassion remained. That same compassion she’d seen the day Matthias brought her home. He wore a pair of wool pants and clutched his cap in his hand as he took a step forward. “Hello, Mary.”
Mary separated her disbelief from the other emotions that stole her breath. “Jonas?”
“I know I have no right to come back like this. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” He looked over his shoulder, toward the path she’d taken from Charlie’s grave. “I was just making sure you made it home.”
She opened her mouth, trying to comprehend his words. “You . . . saw me?”
“I . . . I’ve been around for a while. Just making sure you were all right.” He gestured to the gun. “I guess you were.”
She glanced at the gun and put it down. “You’ve been around for a while?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Since you married—or almost married—Erland.”
“That was years ago! Why didn’t you—?”
“You never wrote.” He tried a smile but failed. “I assumed . . .”
“That I didn’t want you.” She stared at his work-worn boots, the way he crunched his hat. “I should have written.”
He shifted his weight, saying nothing. Then, finally, he put his hat on. “I’ll be on my way. I’m just glad to see you.”
He turned to leave, and in that moment, Mary felt the last remnants of the woman she’d been—the one who’d let life have its way with her, who’d been a victim—die.
“Jonas . . . wait.”
He stopped.
She walked off the porch. “I still believe, Jonas. I will always believe.”
He turned, and she saw him smile. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”
“You’re right on time,” she said, reaching out for him.
He stared at her outstretched hand and gently took it. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “I promise.”
Jonas pulled her to himself and put his arm around her waist, and just as she’d always imagined it, he tenderly, sweetly, kissed her.
For all you’re worth, I’ll stand here for a lifetime,
For all you’re worth, I’ll sacrifice it all,
You can know that you’re my treasure,
I’ll show you how to measure,
You can look into my eyes for all you’re worth.
Lolly heard the soft singing and struggled to open her eyes. Something seemed . . . She wasn’t in her hotel room. She heard machines, and she ached so much that she groaned.
“Shh, Lolly, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”
She blinked to clear her vision, and then she saw him. Reddened eyes, hair a mess, as if he hadn’t slept in three days.
John.
He tried a smile, but his face, his voice broke. “Oh, Lolly, you really scared me.” He set down the book he’d been reading aloud to her.
“What happened? I remember a man—oh!” The images came back, and Lolly moaned.
John put her hand to his mouth, kissed the back of it. “You’re safe, honey. You have a couple of broken ribs, but you’re going to be okay.” He reached out to touch her, then pulled back. “I can’t believe I left you. I should have taken you with me—”
“I should have told you. I’m so sorry.” Her voice came out parched, barely above a whisper. “I know everything now. I know.”
He leaned over, pressing his lips to her forehead. “I love you, Lolly. I have for years and years.”
Lolly saw it then, everything that Mary had seen. The love that had healed her. Freed her.
The love that she had waited for.
“I know, John. And I loved you back.”
He smiled. “I know that too.”
She closed her eyes, feeling so very tired. “Will you be here when I wake up?”
John kissed her sweetly on her cheek. She felt the brush of his whiskers, and a quietness swept through her. “I’m not leaving. I promise.”
CHAPTER 22
RAFE FELT LIKE a million bucks. Or at least five hundred thousand. As he sat on the platform and received the largest check of his life—four feet by eight feet—he knew the fear that had embedded his life no longer ruled the kind of man he chose to be.
He raised a giant silver buckle trophy—the gold would come later, maybe at the championships—above his head and dangled the keys to his brand-new black F-150 pickup. He scanned the audience for Kitty, knowing she should be up on the platform with him. But in the commotion after his ride—netting him the combined points that put him on top of the scoreboard—he’d been hustled away by the GetRowdy crew for an interview and the closing ceremony.
She had probably rejoined his family.
His family. Who had been here to watch him win. He turned, waving to them somewhere in the massive crowd, unable to see because of the fireworks. This is for you, Mom.
The music continued as he finished waving and left the stage. Every step he took was a little explosion of pain. But he grinned through it, even when he got backstage. Then he let himself lean on a bull rider from Oklahoma and hopped toward the sports doctor.
Doc Wilson wasn’t happy as he unwrapped Rafe’s knee. Rafe leaned back on the table, accepting the shot of painkiller, breathing through the residual pain as the doc wrapped his knee in a padded brace. “I think you need to take a trip to the hospital,” he said, motioning to the EMTs.
Rafe sat up, woozy suddenly from the head rush of the medicine. “Right after I see my . . .” What? Fans? Maybe a long time ago. “. . . girlfriend,” he said, trying on the label for size.
The doc patted his leg. “Don’t wait too long.”
An EMT handed Rafe a pair of crutches.
Rafe hopped down from the table, grabbed the crutches, and moseyed out into the hall.
Nick, Stefanie, Manny, and Lucia burst into a round of cheers.
“Uncle Rafe, you were so cool!” Manny said.
Lucia came up and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Manuel would be proud of you.” She wiped her lipstick off his cheek, then a tear from her chin.
Nick smiled at Rafe and nodded.
“Where’s Kitty?” Rafe asked as Ste
fanie hugged him.
She let him go, gave him a blank look.
“She didn’t come to sit with you?”
“We haven’t seen her since she left to . . . uh, check on you.” Nick raised an eyebrow in silent question.
“She found me. And I expected to see her after my ride.”
Nick’s expression darkened just as his cell phone rang. He flipped it open. “Hello?” He glanced at Rafe. “It’s Piper,” he mouthed.
Stefanie rubbed her arms, looking pensive.
“What aren’t you guys telling me?” Rafe hobbled closer.
“What? You’re kidding.” Nick’s tone didn’t sound at all amused. “We’ll be right there. Do they know who—? . . . I know what you think, honey, but do they have proof? . . . At least John is there, but . . . You did? What did she say?”
Nick looked at Rafe again. “Really? . . . All right, we’ll be there as soon as we can. Call me if something changes.”
“What’s wrong?” Stefanie asked before he even closed the phone.
Nick’s eyes found Rafe’s. “Lolly’s in the hospital. She’s been beaten up. And according to Kat’s housekeeper, Kat left . . . on vacation with Bradley.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe—”
“Stef, Kitty loves me and I love her. Believe me when I tell you wild horses couldn’t make her run off with . . . Slick.”
A hesitation from Nick said that he thought Rafe might be a little on the desperate side.
Yep, because even if she had left with Bradley—which he didn’t believe for a second—this time Rafe wasn’t going to let her go without a fight. “She doesn’t love him,” he said. “She loves me.”
Stefanie turned to Nick. “Rafe’s right. She loves him. Something’s not right here.”
Nick tossed Stefanie the keys. “Take Lucia and Manny back to the hotel; see if anyone has seen Kat. Rafe and I will ask around here. Someone had to see something. Let’s see what security comes up with.”
Rafe followed him, half running, half hopping, absorbing the pain in a one-eyed wince.
Nick found a door marked Security and began to bang on it.
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