Taming Rafe (28 page)

The flower slipped from her hand.
Unshackled
wasn’t Mary’s story. It was
hers
.

Set in a different time, with different players, John had written her story from her point of view. A story of a woman with dreams, of tragedy and mistakes. A story of a woman shackled in shame and a man whose love gave her the strength to break free and create a new life. And to allow herself to believe she could be happy.

John
knew
. All this time, he knew about her past and loved her anyway. When he couldn’t tell her he loved her . . . he wrote it. But he’d left town just like Jonas.

“Please, Jonas, don’t give up on her!” Lolly snatched up her book. She flopped down on the bed, tears hot in her eyes.

She didn’t even sense the presence behind her until it was on top of her, pressing her down into the bed, pushing the air from her body.

CHAPTER 20

“Y
OU’VE LOST YOUR
mind, Piper!” Flanked by the two women who probably had the least to lose by the truth, Kat still couldn’t comprehend their words. “Bradley is not trying to
kill
me. That’s absurd.”

Then again, now that the event had wound down, the musicians packed up and all evidence of Rafe’s fight cleared away, she had to agree, this night had been full of crazy moments. Like Rafe showing up, looking as if he’d walked off the pages of her favorite Western and then turning Bradley’s nose to hamburger. Her long-lost
mother
appearing on her doorstep. Or Bradley phoning to tell her that he’d pick her up tomorrow afternoon for their getaway. For their
elopement
.

And now Piper and Stefanie here in her penthouse, per Lolly’s instructions, barraging Kat with insane accusations about the man she loved. Or thought she loved.

Yes,
of course
loved.

She couldn’t be with a man who had to be leashed every time
he went out in public. Besides, Rafe didn’t want her. If he did, he would be here fighting for her, wouldn’t he?

The last thing she wanted was to end up like her mother or . . . her
aunt
, living with broken dreams.

“Read the evidence for yourself.” Piper thrust the manila folder at her.

Kat looked at it as if it might contain anthrax. “No. I refuse to believe it. I know Bradley. My grandfather trusts him, and he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You said yourself you felt better than you had in months when you were in Montana,” Piper said. “Could it be because the drugs were finally being flushed from your system?”

Kat put a hand to her head, rubbing at the faintest claw of a headache. “I was stressed before I went to Montana, and coming back hasn’t been a picnic.”

“Maybe you should have stayed.” Stefanie leaned against her dressing table.

“I couldn’t stay. I have a life here. Responsibilities,” Kat said. “Besides, Rafe doesn’t care for me.”

“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” Stefanie said. “Rafe is falling hard for you.”

“Oh yeah, I can tell by the way he’s sending me flowers and serenading me from the balcony.” Kat winced at the apparent hurt in her tone. “Rafe is back in his life, surrounded by fans, and I certainly don’t belong.”

“Listen,” Stefanie said. “I know my brother and he’s different. After you left, he—”

“Turned into a whiskey-drinking ladies’ man?” Kat shucked off her red boots, tossing them into the dressing room.

“No, that was
before
you met him. The new Rafe is different. Focused. And he’s all about helping Manny.”

“Manny?” Kat folded her arms and stared out the window, surprised at the bitterness in her voice. “Who is he, anyway? Rafe’s . . . son?”

Silence ensued in the wake of her words.

“Whatever he is, obviously there is a commitment between Rafe and Lucia, whom he loves
oh, so very much
.” Okay, now she sounded like she might be about thirteen and in the middle of a jealous crush. “It doesn’t matter—”

“It does matter,” Piper said softly. “Manny is
Manuel’s
son—Rafe’s friend who died.”

Oh.

“He has leukemia. And Rafe is trying to raise money for his expenses because he doesn’t have insurance and lives in some village in Mexico without decent medical care.”

Oh.

“Rafe’s just trying to give the kid hope. He’s going to ride in tomorrow’s invitational, hoping to earn the purse to pay Manny’s expenses.”

“He’s riding to help Manny?”

“Yep.”

Kat felt a hand on her shoulder and turned. Stefanie stood there, flanked by Piper. “The truth is that . . . okay, we don’t have any
solid
proof about Bradley.” She glanced at Piper, who apparently didn’t share that sentiment. “But something’s not right. And we’re worried about you. Even if we’re wrong, you don’t belong with Bradley.”

“Bradley is exactly my type.”

“Bet he doesn’t like your red boots, does he?” Stefanie said.

“No one is saying you don’t have a great life here,” Piper said. “But is it the life you’re supposed to live? Just because something is good doesn’t mean it’s right. We can surround ourselves with a million really good things and miss the one excellent thing we’re supposed to do with our lives.”

Kat rubbed her arms, turned back to the darkened skyline. “You know, all I really wanted to do was live a life that mattered and carry on where my mother left off.”

Piper joined her at the window, staring out at the night. “Maybe you should
start
where she did.”

Kat frowned at her.

“By loving a good man.”

The words hung in her mind as Piper and Stefanie took up residence in her guest rooms, like the cavalry to her rescue. A glance at the clock told her that Lolly was either still meeting with Lincoln or had decided to turn in. Kat lay on the bed, watching the lights of the city.

“Loving a good man.”

She sat up, pulled her scrapbook onto her lap, and ran her fingers over the eight-by-ten glossy of Bobby. Oh, he had been gorgeous. No wonder Felicia had fallen for him. She turned the pages until she found the photo booth snapshots. The one of Felicia laughing and looking gloriously happy.

She turned more pages and saw her baby photos, the ones with her and Felicia and with all three of them—Kat, Felicia, and Bobby—together. She carefully took out one of the pictures, hoping to find the date. She found an inscription instead:
My darling Kitty on her first birthday.

Kat tightened her mouth. Her mother called her Kitty? She’d never heard anything but Katherine. She remembered Felicia showing up at Christmas when Kat was nine, a stuffed horse in hand. She had stayed for most of the afternoon, playing with Kat on her bedroom floor. And at her graduation, waving from the crowd, grinning. Right before Grandfather took her back home to Manhattan.

Kat continued turning pages until she came to Bobby’s obituary and the picture of him astride his final bull, before he fell off and they lost him to his profession. Rafe had a picture like this.

“So are you going back to bull riding?”
Their conversation the day she’d found the arrowhead came back to her, and for a few seconds, she was caught in that moment, in the smells of the ranch, and in the smile of a guy who’d made her feel like his girl.

“No. I’m done.”

Oh no, he wasn’t. And she’d known it even then.

“Seems like a place to find peace, even some grace,”
she’d said.
“Maybe heal you enough to start over.”

Kat hadn’t known then that her words had been for her as well.

She had found peace, even grace, in Rafe’s world. She’d found a part of herself she didn’t know existed. Not her courage or even her ability to embrace the land . . . but her heritage. A heritage of courage and commitment. Felicia
and
Lolly, mothers who had been brave and strong and who had sacrificed for the child they loved.

She pressed her hand to her mouth as she felt her eyes burn. She’d been trying so hard to be like her parents, to measure up to their world. And why?

So she might believe she too deserved the happily ever after she
saw for everyone else. Tears leaked out, and she let them fall.
Lord, please tell me what to do.

Kat let the words from the verse she’d paraphrased to Rafe find her heart, her soul.
Work out your salvation with deep reverence and fear, because God is at work in us, to give us the desire to obey Him and the power to please Him
. God in her.

God, giving her the identity she so craved.

Maybe her entire trip to Phillips hadn’t been for Rafe . . . but for her, to show her that she wasn’t a Breckenridge or a Russell. But God’s girl, just like Angelina had said.

Perhaps the more Kat understood her identity as a child of God, that He created her and loved her, the more she could be free to be the person He’d created her to be. Without having to prove anything. To impress anyone.

“Stop trying so hard to change the world, and let God change the world through you. Be still, trust in His grace, and you will experience His peace.”
Angelina, as always, the voice of truth in her life.

What if choosing the excellent thing wasn’t so much about her actions—always striving to be and do the best—but rather receiving the acts of grace and letting her life rest in Jesus’ hands?

“Every day she spent with Bobby was a day of grace from God,” Lolly had said about her mother.

Kat had to confront Bradley; she knew it. But she couldn’t truly believe that Bradley would ever hurt her. Not really. Earlier when Kat had read Piper’s “proof,” it just seemed a horrible coincidence. Even if it wasn’t true, the real question hovered in her mind: did Kat count a day with Bradley a day of grace, a gift from the Lord?

She already knew the answer, hoping that maybe even wannabe cowgirls got a happy ending.

Sometimes Bradley had to believe that fate loved him. Yes, things had gotten more complicated, but he’d dealt with that last night. He’d spent the morning packing, envisioning the life that would be his as Katherine’s husband. How sad that soon after their nuptials, Katherine’s depression would overtake her.

Bradley pulled up in the limo and called the helicopter waiting on the roof, instructing the pilot to wait while he went upstairs to Katherine’s penthouse. He’d phoned thirty minutes earlier, wanting to surprise her, and Angelina informed him Katherine was packing. Now that was his good little Katherine.

He pressed the elevator button, then smoothed his tie. Soon he’d be living in a penthouse instead of a cramped one-bedroom apartment.

The doors opened to the top floor, and he used his key card to enter. “Katherine? Are you ready to go?”

He closed the door behind him, hearing the click but nothing else. He did see, however, two large bags by the front door. Frowning, he crossed to her bedroom, knocked on the door. “Katherine?”

No one in the dressing room.

“Hello?” Angelina said, entering the room. “Are you here for Katherine’s bags?”

“Where is she? We had a . . . date.”

“She went to the bull-riding event.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Okay. Thank you, Angelina.”

He strode to the window and stared out for a long, long time. He had worked long and hard for this.

Enough games, Katherine.

“I’m still not sure I should sign off on this, Rafe. You had surgery two months ago. And if you land wrong . . .” Doc Wilson strapped the knee brace on Rafe’s leg, checking one last time for fit.

“C’mon, Doc. You’ve seen me worse off than this.” Rafe forced a smile, hoping the doctor couldn’t see the pain pulsing in his brain, needling his common sense. He shared Doc Wilson’s concern, but short of hog-tying him, nothing could keep him from riding today. He planned on staying on for eight seconds and all three go-rounds and winning that purse. He hoped it would be enough to help Manny live to be a hundred and ten.

“You look like you’ve been in a fight.” Doc flashed a light into Rafe’s eyes, making him blink. “Up to your old tricks?”

Doc had been privy to a few of Rafe’s darkest moments—when he’d shown up at an event hungover or broken after he’d ridden one too many times, fighting to keep his demons away.