“She’s safe, Mandy.” He told her. “That’s all that matters.”
“But—”
He moved toward the door, wanting nothing more than to get very far away from this conversation.
“How does she feel about you?” Mandy called after him.
He paused, his respect for Mandy at war with his instinct for self-preservation. “She’s in New York City. I’m here. End of story.”
“Is she upset? Did you hurt her?”
Reed knew his answer was going to make Mandy angry. He regretted that. He regretted it a lot. But it was always going to end this way. He’d tried to tell that to Katrina, and he’d certainly known it himself. “She understands that our lives are completely separate.”
“But you slept with her anyway,” said Caleb.
“That’s still none of your business.” Reed started for the kitchen door.
Caleb put an arm out to stop him. Surprisingly, there was no anger in his tone. “A very wise man once told me that when a Jacobs woman sleeps with you, it means she loves you.”
Reed remembered their conversation perfectly. But that was a different time, a completely different circumstance. “That doesn’t bring Katrina any closer to Colorado.”
“You think that’s your only answer?”
Reed ignored his brother and began moving again, increasing his pace.
“That Katrina comes to Colorado?” Caleb called. “You can’t go to New York City?”
Reed smacked his hand on the doorjamb as he rocked to a halt.
“There are two possible solutions,” said Caleb.
Reed turned, enunciating carefully. “My world is here. I have a house to build and kids to raise and a mother to honor.”
“You think Mom would want you to give up Katrina?” Caleb stepped closer.
“I think Mom would want Katrina to be happy,” Reed answered with total honesty. There were more than a few parallels between the two women. And he would never, ever do to Katrina what his father had done to his mother.
“So do I,” Caleb said softly, stopping directly in front of Reed. “I think Mom would want you to make Katrina happy, on Katrina’s terms, in Katrina’s world.”
Reed opened his mouth to argue.
But Caleb wasn’t finished. “I know your plan, Reed. And I understand why you’re doing it. But you’re wrong, dead wrong. You don’t honor Mom by staying in Lyndon Valley. You honor Mom by honoring Katrina.”
Reed couldn’t wrap his head around it. “You’re suggesting I move to New York City?” Was Caleb saying their mother would want him to move to New York City? The idea was preposterous. He was a cowboy. His life was here. He was about to dig the foundation for his house.
“Imagine,” Caleb continued, voice controlled, but Reed could see the anger simmering in his eyes. “If Wilton had once, even once in his miserable, toxic life, given a damn about Mom? What she wanted, what she needed, what would make her happy instead of him?”
Reed got where his brother was going with this. “It’s not just geography, Caleb.”
“Then, what is it?”
Reed wished there weren’t quite so many witnesses, but he supposed there was no point in backing off now. “The last thing she said to me was, no matter how I dressed up, I’d always be an uncouth Colorado cowboy.”
Caleb shrugged. “So change.”
Reed snapped his fingers. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“I’m not going to stop threatening to kill any man who hurts her.”
A grin spread across Caleb’s face. “Yeah? Well, maybe you could stop telling her about it.”
Danielle spoke up. “But you already did that, Reed.”
Reed looked at her. “Already did what?”
“You didn’t kill him. You found another way.” She gave a shrug. “Maybe the tux and the tie rubbed off on you. Because instead of killing Quentin Foster, you outsmarted him. That was very civilized.”
It was Mandy’s turn to step in, and she was fighting a smile. “Honestly, Reed, I can’t see Katrina objecting if you threaten to outsmart any man who hurts her.”
Danielle nodded her agreement.
“It’s not quite as satisfying,” Caleb allowed.
“It was pretty satisfying,” Reed admitted. The only thing he’d regretted was not being able to watch Elizabeth deliver the news to Foster.
“She misses you,” said Danielle, her tone softer, more thoughtful than normal. “I went to see Katrina while I was in New York City. I was trying to figure out if you’d lost your mind. You hadn’t. And she misses you.”
The only time Katrina didn’t miss Reed was while she was performing. Being on stage took all of her concentration and she was thankful that, if only temporarily, the effort blocked him out of her brain. But as soon as the curtain fell, her chest would hollow out again and her stomach would start to ache.
The applause from tonight’s audience had barely died down. She was pacing her way along the hall to her dressing room, and her tears were once again close to the surface. She’d picked up her phone about a hundred times in the last few days, longing to call him and hear the sound of his voice. She wasn’t ready to let him go. Not yet. Not so soon.
She’d concocted all kinds of wild schemes to eke a few more hours out of their brief relationship. Maybe he could come back to the city for a day or a week. Or maybe she could go to Colorado for another visit. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad there, if she was with Reed.
But deep down inside, she knew none of the plans made any real sense. It would still be temporary, and she’d get her heart broken all over again. Reed was like a drug, and her only hope was to go cold turkey.
She made it to the privacy of her dressing room. But before the door could close behind her, Elizabeth appeared.
“Another full house,” she told Katrina, breezing inside, letting the door fall shut, taking one of the two armchairs in the compact room.
Katrina dropped down on the padded bench in front of the lighted mirror, automatically pulling the decorations from her hair.
“That’s great news.” She forced herself to smile, catching Elizabeth in the reflection.
“Have you heard from Reed today?” Elizabeth asked.
Katrina’s fingers fumbled, and she dropped a small jeweled comb. It clattered onto the table and down to the floor.
“From Reed?” she asked stupidly, as she reached down to retrieve it. Could she have misheard? Why was Elizabeth asking about Reed?
“I left a message for him this morning, but he hasn’t gotten back to me. That doesn’t seem like him.”
Katrina picked up the comb, her fingers slightly numb, mind scrambling to find some logic in Elizabeth’s words. “You left Reed a message?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Just some more paperwork we need to sign. Danielle couriered it over, but I’m not clear on some of the tax sections.”
Katrina blinked at Elizabeth. “Tax sections?” she parroted. What on earth would Elizabeth have to do with Reed’s taxes? Or what would Reed have to do with Elizabeth’s taxes? And what was Danielle doing in the middle of it?
Katrina knew she couldn’t let herself be jealous, but she simply couldn’t help it. She wanted to be the person Reed called. It wasn’t fair that it was Elizabeth and Danielle.
“Just details,” Elizabeth said brightly, coming to her feet and putting her hand on the doorknob. “If he calls, can you make sure he has my cell number?”
“Certainly.” Not that Reed would call. For a wild moment, Katrina thought of using this as an excuse to call him. But she dismissed the idea. It would be so transparent.
“So you met Danielle?” she asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth laughed lightly. “We’ve been talking every day. Ten million dollars needs a lot of babysitting.”
“Ten million dollars?”
Elizabeth stilled. Her expression faltered. Her hand dropped from the knob, and she stared at
Katrina. “You don’t know?”
Katrina didn’t answer.
“How can you not know? Have you talked to Reed?”
Katrina swallowed a lump. “Not in a few days. We, well, we left things on bad terms after the gala.”
Elizabeth sat back down in the chair, her hands going limp. “The gala? You haven’t talked to him since the gala?”
“No,” Katrina replied.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Elizabeth?” Katrina tried to tamp down her anxiety.
“Before he left New York. Before… Reed set up an endowment named the Sasha Terrell Fund. It’s for us. It’s for Liberty. It’s ten million dollars.”
The breath whooshed out of Katrina’s body.
“His only stipulation,” Elizabeth continued, “was that we kick Quentin Foster off the board and out of the organization forever.”
“What?”
“I thought…” Elizabeth gave a helpless laugh. “I assumed. I mean, a man doesn’t do something like that for just anyone. And after his performance at the gala. Well, if a man stepped up for me the way Reed stepped up for you…”
Katrina’s hands started to shake. What had Reed done? Why had he done it?
“I was embarrassed,” she confessed in a small voice. “At the gala. I was mortified by his behavior. I told him to leave, to get out of the city. I told him to go back to his sawdust-covered honky-tonks where he could make a point with his fists.”
Elizabeth’s jaw dropped open.
Katrina’s stomach churned.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I, uh, guess he did this instead.”
“What was he thinking?”
Elizabeth cocked her head sideways. “I guess he was thinking he wanted to protect you. And he didn’t appear to care what it cost him.”
Guilt washed over Katrina. Ten million dollars? He’d spent ten million dollars? “Who does that, Elizabeth? Who does something like that?”
“Apparently, cowboys from Colorado.”
“I hate Colorado.” But Katrina was blinking back tears. “Okay, I don’t exactly hate it. But I don’t want to live there.”
“Reed’s there,” Elizabeth offered softly.
“I love Reed,” Katrina admitted her worst fear out loud. “I love Reed. But my life is here.”
Elizabeth moved to the bench, tucking in beside Katrina and taking her hand.
“I need to apologize.”
Elizabeth squeezed. “I hate to ask this. It seems terribly insensitive. But is there any chance you could do it by phone?”
Katrina gave a watery laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“We’ve got sold-out performances for four more nights running.”
“I know.” Katrina wouldn’t walk out on Liberty. “Maybe Monday? Caleb, my sister’s fiancé, has a jet. Maybe I could talk to him about flying—”
The dressing-room door swung open. The two women all but jumped up as Reed’s form filled the doorway.
Katrina froze, her stomach going into a freefall.
“Hello, Katrina.” His deep voice reverberated around her, exactly as she remembered it.
She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t seem to make any words come out.
Elizabeth recovered first, coming smoothly to her feet and moving toward the door, pausing beside him. “May I talk to you later on, Reed? About the paperwork?”
His gaze never left Katrina. “Sure. I’ll call you.”
“Thanks. See you both later then.”
Reed moved in as Elizabeth moved out, and the door clicked shut behind him.
Katrina came shakily to her feet, steadying herself on the dressing table. She was still in her costume, her hair half up, half down.
All she could muster was a whisper. She swallowed. “Elizabeth just told me about the endowment.”
Reed opened his mouth, but Katrina shook her head. She moved forward and touched her fingertips to his lips to silence him.
“Why did you do it?” She blinked against the stinging in her eyes. “I mean… No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, thank you. And I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry.” Reed spoke around her fingertips.
She shook her head again. He had nothing to be sorry about. He’d been right all along.
“I’m sorry I threatened to kill him,” said Reed. “Okay. That’s a lie. But I’m sorry it upset you. And I honestly would have killed him if he’d come after you. But I outsmarted him instead. And Mandy and Danielle tell me that’s a more civilized solution.”
Katrina smiled through the tiny tears that leaked out the corners of her eyes. “I can’t believe you did that. Reed, you spent all your money.”
He reached for her hand, enclosing it in his, pulling her close. “Don’t cry.”
“But—”
“It’s not all of my money.”
His hand was warm and strong and secure. She moved against him, closing her eyes and absorbing the feel of his body and the scent of his skin. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too.” He held her tightly and sighed. “You feel so good.”
She fisted her hands into his shirt, voice raw. “I don’t know if I can let go of you again.”
“I know.”
“Oh, Reed,” she whispered, then drew a shuddering breath. “What are we going to do?”
“I hope we’re going to love each other.”
“How?” she sniffed.
He touched his index finger to her chin, tipping it up. His eyes were warm and rich, and his smile was soft. “I thought we’d start with real estate. Maybe a nice place in Brooklyn. Though I could be talked into Manhattan.”
“Huh?”
“And after that I was planning to propose to you.”
Katrina didn’t understand. What was he saying? He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. “You’re…”
“Moving to New York City?” He nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Turns out I can.”
“But the ranch. Your family. Your new house. Your heritage.”
“I want you to be my family.” He smoothed back her hair. “I love you, Katrina. And I think my mother would love to know she had little ballerina granddaughters going to fine arts school in New York City. I think she would love that a lot.”
“Oh, Reed.” Katrina’s heart swelled. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She couldn’t believe he would do such an amazing thing for her. She pressed herself tighter into his arms. “I love you. I love you so much.”
“That’s good. Because it turns out I can’t wait on this. I’m proposing right now.” He drew back again. “Will you marry me, Katrina?”
She nodded. Then she nodded faster. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Reed. And I’ll learn to ride horses, and I’ll befriend the chickens. And we can spend weekends and holidays in Colorado with our families.”
“That’s my girl.” He kissed her hairline. “I sure wish I had a ring. I shouldn’t be doing this without a ring.”
“There’s a Tiffany’s around the corner,” she teased. Then she paused. “Or we can go to Brooklyn. Would you rather buy a ring in Brooklyn?”
“Sweetheart.” He hugged her tighter. “You can have any ring you want. You can have any thing you want. As long as you’ll stay with me for the rest of my life.”
Katrina stopped in her tracks halfway between the Terrells’ farmhouse and their barn. “I thought you said I could have anything I wanted.”
“You can,” Reed cajoled, taking her hand in his.
She snatched it back. “But I don’t want this.”
“That’s not the same logic.”
“Close enough.”
“You’ll love her,” said Reed, slipping an arm around Katrina’s shoulders and urging her forward. “She’s twenty-two years old, has raised nine foals. She’s as gentle as a kitten.”
“She’s as big as a house.” Katrina complained, trying to shrink back as they ap
proached the dapple-gray mare tied to the hitching post in front of the corral.
“She’s maybe fifteen hands. Her name’s North Star.”
“Can’t I start with a pony?” Not that Katrina had any desire to get up on a pony, either, but at least it would buy her some time. Maybe she could hide while Reed was looking for a pony.
“You promised you’d try,” he admonished.
“I lied.”
He laughed. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“No offense, Reed. You’re big and strong and capable, and all. But you’re a human being. She’s a horse.”
“And she knows who’s boss.”
“Well, it’s sure not going to be me.”
“Katrina.”
“What?”
“Buck up.”
“That’s your pep talk? ‘Buck up’?” They were drawing closer to the mare by the second. She fought an urge to squeeze her eyes shut.
“I don’t think you want to hear the alternative.”
She wanted to be brave. She really did. Deep down inside, she knew this was an irrational fear. Very few people were killed by horses each year. And those that were tended to be in the rodeo or ride in steeplechases.
But an irrational fear didn’t normally respond to logic, and so she was stuck with it. “I think I’m going to pass out.”
“Katrina,” he told her firmly. “Quit being such a wuss.”
“You quit yelling at me.”
“I am not yelling.”
North Star snorted and shifted.
“You’re scaring the horse,” Katrina complained.
“So now you care about the horse?”
“Absolutely I care about the horse.”
They’d stopped about five feet away from the hitching post.
“You’ll make her sad if you don’t ride her,” said Reed.
“Nice try.”
“Just look at those big brown eyes.” Reed left Katrina behind and moved around the hitching post to stroke North Star’s neck. “She loves teaching new riders.”
“She does not.”
“Want to bet?” He scratched the mare’s nose, and she gave a couple of long, slow, obviously contented blinks.
Katrina didn’t blame her. Reed did have magic hands.
A Cowboy in Manhattan Page 18