A Cowboy in Manhattan (8 page)

Her fingertips went reflexively to her lips. She could swear they were still tingling from Reed’s kiss this afternoon. He’d been the one to call a halt. He’d broken away and given them both a moment of sanity. If he hadn’t done that, she was sure she would have lost her virginity to a rugged cowboy right there in the middle of a Lyndon Valley meadow.

She shook her head, even as her smile and the warm glow remained. Like any woman, she’d fantasized about her first time making love. It had always involved a posh hotel suite, and a man who’d laid his bow tie and tux over a French provincial armchair before joining her in a lacy, canopied bed. Lyndon Valley, blue jeans, an imperfect nose and a beard-rough chin weren’t even on her radar.

“Katrina?” Mandy rapped lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Katrina called, determinedly banishing thoughts of Reed and tightening the sash of her satin robe.

The door opened. Like Katrina, Mandy had showered recently. Her damp chestnut hair was combed back in a ponytail, and she’d pulled on a hunter-green T-shirt over a pair of beige cargo pants.

“How’re you doing?” Mandy opened, letting the door swing closed behind her, getting comfortable on the corner of the bed and curling her bare feet beneath her. “Ankle holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Katrina answered. “It’s doing okay.”

She really was fine, she realized. Quentin was far away and suddenly easy to push from her thoughts. He’d been obliterated by Reed. She felt buoyant and upbeat from all that fresh air. Her ankle had survived the walk with surprising strength. It felt a whole lot better than it had yesterday.

“Seth called,” said Mandy.

“Is he ordering us back home?” Katrina crossed to her suitcase, open on a low table in the corner of the room. She’d been wondering how long her other three siblings would let her and Mandy hide out at the Terrell ranch.

“Sort of. He wants us to go to Lyndon with him tomorrow. The Lyndon Hospital is hosting a charity ball, and he thinks it’ll be good for the campaign to have a strong Jacobs contingent by his side.”

Katrina glanced over her shoulder. “He wants us to campaign for him?”

“Nah. All we have to do is show up, dance and smile for the cameras. Cakewalk for you.”

Katrina retrieved a simple black knit skirt and a filmy copper cap-sleeved blouse. “Are we talking ballgowns and the whole nine yards?”

Mandy nodded. “It’ll be formal.”

“Then I’ll have to go shopping.” Which was a waste, since Katrina had a dozen perfectly appropriate ballgowns hanging in her closet in New York City. “And maybe do something with my hair. And I don’t know what I’ve got for shoes.”

If she could be positive any photos taken at the event would only be used locally for Seth’s campaign, she wouldn’t worry. But she and her fellow dancers at Liberty Ballet were under strict orders from the publicity department that every single public appearance, every picture, every interview, had to comply with company policy.

From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, she had to be esthetically perfect.

“Lyndon does have stores,” said Mandy.

“And I’m going to need them,” Katrina joked, stepping into the skirt.

“You’ll probably have a lot more fun this trip. You’re dressing up and dancing instead of slogging through the barns and worrying about horses.”

Katrina paused, sensing a conspiracy. “You didn’t tell Seth what I said?”

“No, no.” Mandy determinedly shook her head. “It’s a coincidence, I promise.” She paused. “But there are some nice things about Colorado, you know.”

Katrina fastened the skirt at her waist. “There are some nice things about New York City, too.”

“You mean like traffic and muggings?”

“I mean like Central Park and the Met.”

“Lyndon has an arts center, an orchestra and a museum.”

Katrina slipped off the robe and put on the blouse over her lacy bra, fastening the tiny buttons up the front. “You really love it here, don’t you?” She padded across the bedroom and joined her sister on the opposite corner of the bed.

“I really do,” Mandy agreed.

“Won’t you and Caleb mostly live in Chicago after the wedding?”

“We think it’ll be about fifty-fifty. I’ll put up with Chicago for him, and he’ll put up with Lyndon Valley for me.”

“So, one of you will always be unhappy?” Katrina didn’t want to question the wisdom of her sister’s marriage plans, but theirs didn’t sound like a particularly smart arrangement.

Mandy’s voice went soft. “Caleb hated his father. He didn’t hate Lyndon Valley. And now that Wilton is gone, he’ll remember all the things he loved about the ranch.”

“You sure?”

“I’m positive.”

Katrina plucked at the quilt. “Well, I’ll never leave New York City.”

“Not even for the right man?”

“The right man is already there.”

Mandy straightened, her expression perking up. “I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

“No boyfriend.” Katrina was taking a page from Reed’s logic. “I haven’t met him yet. But I know he’s out there, picking out an impressionist painting for his penthouse, balancing his stock portfolio and dry-cleaning his tux.”

Mandy laughed, even as Katrina’s thoughts flicked back to Reed.

“Did you know Reed was building a house?” she found herself asking her sister.

“What do you mean?”

“He showed me the building site today. Up in one of the top meadows beside Flash Lake. He’s got it all staked out. I didn’t see the drawings, but he talked like it was all planned. He says he’s going to find himself a wife and start a family. You and Caleb get to keep this house.”

“Really?” Mandy drew the word out in obvious contemplation.

“So this is something new?” Katrina confirmed.

“He told Caleb he was planning to raise a family here on the ranch. But, as far as I know, he didn’t say anything about building a new house.” Mandy shifted on the mattress. “I take it you’re not fighting anymore?”

Katrina felt her cheeks heat and struggled to control the reaction. “We were never fighting.” She glanced away. “It was… He just… He’s helping me with my ankle.”

Good grief. Why was she having trouble with such a simple explanation? It wasn’t as though she was lying. Everything she was saying was true.

Mandy blinked. “Katrina?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you attracted to Reed?”

Katrina formulated an answer. “Reed is Colorado.”

If ever there was a man who was a perfect metaphor for a place, he was it.

“And you hate Colorado.”

“I’m intimidated by it.”

Mandy’s gaze was probing. “So you’re intimidated by Reed?”

“Why does this conversation feel like a chess game?”

“Because you’re being evasive.”

“I like my men in tuxedos,” Katrina answered honestly.

Mandy grinned and chuckled. “Then tomorrow night at the ball ought to be very interesting.”

“Why?”

“Because Reed will be in a tux.”

“Not a problem,” Katrina answered with conviction. It was one thing to dress a man up, but the grit of Colorado tended to stick.

The elevator door opened into the lobby of the Sunburst Hotel in downtown Lyndon, and Katrina nearly stumbled on her high-heeled silver sandals. Reed didn’t look remotely gritty. Quite the contrary, he looked fantastic in a tuxedo.

Next to a marble pillar and an oversize leather furniture grouping, he was joking with Caleb, Travis and Seth. He was the tallest of the three, broad-shouldered, clean-shaven, with his hair freshly trimmed and his dark eyes zeroing in on her.

“Wow.” The word whooshed out beneath her breath. She had to remind herself to keep walking between Mandy and Abigail.

“You mean Caleb?” Mandy asked, a thread of amusement in her tone.

“Right,” Katrina returned without missing a beat. “Caleb.” Her gaze stayed glued to Reed.

“Seth’s tie is crooked,” Abigail put in, quickening her pace, clearly hoping to get to Seth and correct the problem before anyone else noticed.

“Liar,” Mandy muttered to Katrina.

“Who? Abigail?”

“Admit it, you’re attracted to Reed.”

“Not at all,” Katrina lied.

“You haven’t taken your eyes off him.”

“I was thinking he’s too tall.” Among other things. He was also too strong, too determined, too attractive and far too good a kisser for a Colorado cowboy.

“He looks great in a tux,” Mandy singsonged.

“All men look great in a tux.” Though few men looked
that
great in a tux.

As they drew closer, Caleb gave a low whistle of appreciation, his gaze warm on Mandy in an off-the-shoulder, full-skirted, full-length gown in shimmering silver.

“I love it when you dress up like a girl,” he told her, putting an arm around her bare shoulders, placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

Abigail finished with Seth’s tie, chatting to him about the attendees at the ball, enumerating those he should seek out. Travis joined in their conversation, joking about who could make the biggest financial contribution to Seth’s campaign, as the three started toward the hotel exit. Mandy took Caleb’s arm and they fell into step behind, leaving Katrina and Reed to bring up the rear.

“You look very nice,” Reed offered to Katrina, taking in her slim-fitting, butter-yellow satin gown. The V-necked bodice was crisscrossed with tiny strands of crystals that also ran the length of the spaghetti straps accenting her bare shoulders. The back dipped low, while the hem flared out. The skirt was snug at her hips, but loose enough along the length of her legs to allow for dancing.

She’d bought some inexpensive but fun dangling crystal earrings that now hung below her simple updo. She’d paired them with an elaborate necklace of crystals interspersed with yellow topaz snug against her throat. Her makeup was to Liberty Ballet standards, a little heavier than Katrina preferred, but nobody in the ballet company would have a complaint if her photo ended up in a national magazine.

“Thank you,” she answered Reed, still drinking in his appearance.

He’d skipped the bow tie, going instead for a classic Windsor knot of taupe silk with a matching pocket square in the black coat, all over a crisp white shirt. The tux fitted him extremely well, and she wondered if it was possible that he owned it.

His strong, weathered hands and his slightly imperfect nose were the only things that stopped him from being equally urbane as any man she’d met in New York City. The realization was both disconcerting and exhilarating.

He held out his arm. She automatically slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, the strength of his ropy muscles evident through the supple fabric.

“You look very nice, too,” she returned the compliment.

“I feel like a penguin,” he grumbled. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to move in one of these things?”

Katrina gestured to her slim-fitting dress. “As opposed to moving in this?”

“Nobody expects you to hop out of the car and change a tire.”

“You’re planning to change a tire tonight?”

“You never know what might happen.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that.

He took her hand and pressed it to his jacket pocket.

She felt a hard, rectangular lump against his hip. “What on earth?”

“Multitool,” he told her. “Knife, screwdriver, file, pliers.”

“You’re armed with a tool set?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We’ll be in a ballroom,” she pointed out. “I expect there’s a maintenance crew. And the worst thing likely to happen tonight is a broken shoe buckle.”

They passed through the hotel exit to the sidewalk, where a lineup of shiny black SUVs waited for guests. She glanced around but didn’t spot her sisters and brothers.

“I can fix a broken shoe buckle,” said Reed. “I can also repair a harness, remove a splinter, whittle some kindling and fix an outboard motor.”

“I can’t do any of those things, with or without a multitool. Well, maybe remove a splinter,” she allowed. Then she glanced ruefully at the tiny clutch purse that contained nothing but the bare necessities. “But not with anything I brought along tonight.”

Reed opened the back door to one of the vehicles. “That’s the beauty of the system,” he told her, cupping his palm over her elbow to help her into the seat.

She glanced up questioningly.

He gave her a grin and a waggle of his brows. “You brought me. You don’t need anything else.”

“You’re a living, breathing multitool?” she guessed.

His eyes darkened ever so slightly, and his tone went low. “That I am.”

Had he just turned shoe-buckle repairs into a flirtation?

Before she could decide, he gently shut the door behind her, rounding the back of the vehicle to climb in the other side.

“To the Hospital Ball?” the driver asked Reed.