A Cowboy in Manhattan (21 page)

“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 approached 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.

“I’ve had six-year-olds on her back,” Reed offered in smooth, honey tones. “She’s a mama through and through. She won’t let anything happen to you.”

North Star was gazing at Katrina now. She did look rather gentle. In fact, she looked quite friendly.

“You want to come closer?” asked Reed.

“Not really.” Katrina was tempted, though. When Reed had proposed back in New York, she had told him she’d learn to ride. She wanted to keep that promise. And if she could force herself to get on the horse’s back, it would be one less thing to be embarrassed about while she was in Colorado.

And they were definitely going to spend time in Colorado. Reed had been amazing about offering to move to New York City. The least she could do was try to meet him halfway.

She glanced at him.

His expression had turned loving, one of understanding and patience.

She wiped her damp palms across the front of her blue jeans and took a step forward, then another and another.

When she came up beside Reed, North Star swung her head to look. But her movements were slow and calm, not at all threatening.

“Pat her neck,” Reed suggested. “Firmly, or you’ll tickle her.”