Heat crept up her face. “Thanks. He never told me much about—” Insert foot in mouth.
“Every time I talk about Raquel very much—” Mitch shrugged “—people think we’re an item.”
“And Mitch has been in love with you ever since I’ve known him.” Raquel smiled. “So he certainly wouldn’t take the chance of you thinking anything was going on with us.”
For once, Mitch was speechless, as Caitlyn’s face singed.
“I’m glad.” Cody cleared his throat. “They’re not an item—I mean. If y’all don’t mind, Raquel and I will go back to the table.”
“I think I’ll leave, but it was nice meeting you, Raquel.”
“I hope you’ll stay, but if not I hope to see you again soon—with Mitch.” Raquel shot him a conspiratorial smile.
“Don’t be mad at me.” Cody hugged Caitlyn, then followed Raquel back to the booth.
“They seem to have hit it off.” Mitch’s gaze never left hers. “I’ve been trying to introduce them. I don’t know why God felt the need to surround me with stubborn people.”
That stubborn zinger was meant for her. Caitlyn headed for the door.
Just outside, she heard footfalls behind her.
“Caitlyn, wait.”
Mitch. Of course.
* * *
At least Caitlyn stopped, but she didn’t turn to face him.
He grasped her shoulders and felt her shiver as he turned her around.
An approaching train blew its hollow, mournful whistle, sounding sadder than it ever had.
With a hard swallow, she focused somewhere near the top button of his shirt.
“I knew the earrings would be great with your eyes.” He pushed her hair aside to see them. “Eyes I’ve never been able to forget. Thanks for the boots.”
Her throat convulsed. “I thought since you saved my life and brought my aunt home, a new pair of boots was the least I could do. They reminded me of your recommitment to Christ. I love the earrings, but you really shouldn’t have.”
“Raquel’s right, you know. I’ve loved you since before she ever knew me.”
“Please don’t.”
The train trundled past and he waited until the noise quieted with a final blast of the lonely whistle.
“I believe God creates people for each other. He made us for each other, Caitlyn. Why else would we still love each other after ten years apart?”
“If we’re created for each other—” her voice quivered “—why would He set up an obstacle we can’t overcome?”
“Because, we can overcome it. All things are possible with God on our side. He’s got it all in the palm of His hand.”
Eyes brimming, she shook her head.
“What time are you going to the wedding tonight?”
“Five-thirty.” Confusion pulled her brows into a frown. “Mama, Nat and I are helping with last-minute details, so we have to be there early.”
“Meet me at the Ever After Chapel.”
Her breath caught.
The exact same thing he’d said to her ten years ago. The exact same place he’d proposed to her ten years ago. She obviously understood his intent.
“I’ll be there anyway. For the wedding.”
“I’ll be under the big tree at six-thirty. Meet me there.”
“And if I...can’t?”
“I won’t bother you again.” His words came out barely a whisper. “It’s up to you.”
Please let her be there, Lord.
Willing his legs not to buckle, he turned away and went back into the restaurant.
* * *
6:28 p.m. Caitlyn released a long breath. In two minutes the man she’d loved since she could remember would be outside with a proposal. His second proposal. And she wouldn’t be there.
Breathe. In and out. She scanned the whitewashed walls, simple walnut pews and pale hardwood floors of the chapel.
She’d never marry Mitch. Here or anywhere else. She had to get that through her head.
If she could remain upright and make it through this wedding, then Mitch would leave her alone. She wouldn’t have to see him again. She could reclaim her Mitchless, prestalker life.
“Hey.” Trent stepped inside the empty sanctuary. “Mitch is looking for you outside.”
Emptiness gripped her. Light-headed and airy. Just stay upright.
“You okay?” He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow.
“Fine. I never got around to eating lunch today.” She pressed her free hand to her middle. “What were you doing outside, trying to peek through the windows and get a glimpse of your bride?”
“Actually, I was thinking about a cigarette.” He shot her a sheepish grin. “I used to smoke several years ago. It tempts me every once in a while when I’m nervous. Have you seen Faith?”
“Yes, and she’s beautiful. But I can’t let you see her before the wedding.” She wagged a finger at him. “So don’t even try.”
“I don’t believe in superstitions. Not anymore.”
“Me, neither. Actually, I never did. So what have you got to be nervous about?”
“I don’t have a clue.” His grin turned sappy. “I’m about to marry the girl of my dreams. Until death do us part. I’m great with that plan.”
“I’m glad.”
“Is Faith nervous?”
“Maybe about tripping down the aisle and getting her vows right, but not about you.”
“Maybe that’s why I’m nervous. I don’t want to mess this up.”
“You’ll be fine.” She patted his arm.
“You’d better go see about Mitch.”
“He can wait.” Her voice cracked. “I’d better go see if I can help the ladies.”
She hurried toward the dressing room. If only she could pledge herself to Mitch—until death did they part. And trust him to live.
Trust God.
The thought came to her clear as day. And hit her in the gut with such force she had to stop walking and clutch the rawhide couch in the reception area for support.
God’s got this. He’s in control. Of Mitch’s safety. Of Mitch’s life and death. She had to give God control of Mitch’s safety, just as she’d given over control of her own. And trust God to see her through if anything happened to him.
6:31 p.m. She pressed a hand to her midsection and ran for the exit.
What if he’d already given up? What if he’d left?
Just inside the door, she stopped. He had to be there. He had to. With a deep breath, she stepped outside. Several guests arrived in a steady stream. She looked to her left.
No Mitch.
As her heart crashed to her toes, she ran down the steps and veered toward the parking area. He couldn’t have gone far. She had to find him and explain.
Please, Lord, don’t let it be too late.
“Caitlyn—the other big tree.”
Her feet stalled and she spun around. Mitch stood under the large tree to the right of the entrance.
Tears blinded her and she launched herself into him, not caring who saw.
“Whoa, girl, don’t take me down.”
She kissed him with ten years of urgency, longing and despair.
A whistle reached into her brain, followed by applause and catcalls. People were watching. She pulled away.
Mitch swallowed hard. “Wow.”
“Is that all you have to say?” She slid her hands up his shoulders and around his neck.
“No.” He pulled free. “But I need to be able to think and I need to know where the change of heart comes from. I didn’t really think you’d come.”
“I realized God’s got this. He’ll see us through whatever our future holds.” She moved closer.
> He grinned and took a step back. “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.”
“What?”
“I took a transfer. I’m a forensic artist now. I sketch witnesses’ descriptions of suspects, age-enhance missing persons’ pictures and that sort of thing.”
“You’re not on the street anymore?”
“Nope. In an office—behind a desk.”
She slugged him in the shoulder.
“Ow.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wanted you to accept me, no matter what. And I start tomorrow. It may not work out.”
“Why?”
“The other day when that shoot-out was going on in Garland, I was champing at the bit, feeling like I should have been there. I can’t promise you I’ll never go back to the field.”
“Why did you take the transfer, then? I don’t want you to end up resenting me.”
“Actually, I put in for the transfer before we reconnected. I’m tired of holding people’s lives in my hands. Too much stress. But I’m not sure I can be at ease out of the line of fire.” He took a step toward her. “Can you live with that?”
“With God’s help, I can.” She closed the gap between them and wound her arms around his neck again. “And I realized something else. I’d rather worry about you up close than from afar.”
“I like the sound of that.” His lips caught hers, and she melted in a puddle at his feet.
When he pulled away, she followed, offering her lips again.
“There’s something else.”
“Enough with the talk,” she said as he dodged her.
He knelt in front of her and her breath caught. “Will you marry me?”
“Ahem.” She turned and saw Natalie standing in front of the chapel with friends, family and onlookers. “If you’ll say yes, maybe we can get on with this wedding. Y’all are kind of stealing Trent and Faith’s thunder.”
Caitlyn giggled and turned back to Mitch. “Yes.”
Applause and whistles echoed through the air.
Ten wasted years. But they wouldn’t waste any more of the precious time God had allotted them.
“I always wanted my own personal rodeo queen.” Mitch stood and pulled her into his arms.
“I always wanted my own personal Texas Ranger.”
He claimed her lips, and his kiss told the tale—the yearning of ten years apart and the lifetime ahead of them.
* * * * *
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin ebook. Connect with us for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Subscribe to our newsletter: Harlequin.com/newsletters
Visit Harlequin.com
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
ISBN-13: 9781460322024
RODEO QUEEN
Copyright © 2013 by Shannon Taylor Vannatter
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Rodeo Queen Page 17