Roping Your Heart (11 page)

It had been even more incredible than she remembered it being when they were young. He was more experienced and his body was different—more muscular, more powerful. She’d loved the feel of being in his arms and cuddling up to him.

She washed her face under the spray and stopped as her fingers brushed the scar. The moment her fingertips touched the thick smooth skin, all of her insecurities came rushing back. Blake hadn’t seemed to care how different she looked or about the mar across her features. It was like he saw
her
, who she was inside
.

But how could he not notice? How could he not care about her scars?

A twisting sensation in her midsection made her hold one arm to her abdomen. She looked down at her belly and remembered when she’d been pregnant. She’d always wanted children and when Melanie had been born, everything in her life had seemed to have new purpose. When her daughter had died… All of that had changed.

She still wanted children. Not to replace Melanie, but because she had so much love to give and children were so precious. She imagined what it would be like to have Blake’s child. The thought came out of nowhere.

After she toweled off, she dressed in a worn pair of jeans and faded red University of Arizona T-shirt. As she tugged on socks and her athletic shoes, she thought about what she had planned for the day. On Sundays she always spent time at her grandmother’s home and helped her with anything she needed to have taken care of.

Of course Grandmother Hayden intended to make fried chicken and would be serving it with all of the traditional sides despite the fact it would be just the two of them. Cat would end up with enough leftovers to last her for days.

Before she left, she did the laundry, ran the dishwasher, and took care of a few other things she needed to do to get ready for the week ahead.

When she was finished, she picked up her cell phone and saw that she had missed a call and had a message. The number was familiar but it took a moment to realize it was Blake’s. She hadn’t saved his number in her contacts yet. Her stomach flipped as she listened to the short message.

“Hi, Cat.” Blake’s voice was deep and sexy. “Call me.”

She considered returning his call but decided not to, at least not right now. Just the thought of him brought back thoughts of the time they’d spent together. It had seemed natural…and it had been good.
Really
good.

If that wasn’t an understatement, she didn’t know what was.

“Time to go to Grandma’s,” she said to Sam as the hamster scampered around his habitat. “See you when I get back.”

Sam paused and stood on his hind legs before ducking into a tube and wriggling through it. Cat laughed and shook her head. Yes, hamsters were so much simpler than men.

When Cat arrived at Grandma Hayden’s, she waved to the neighbor who was planting flowers in the beds near the house in the front yard. To the right of Grandma’s door was a pair of red metal rocking chairs with white arm rests and to the left was a porch swing for two.

After she let herself into the house, Cat tossed her purse on the couch and headed out back to find her grandmother hanging up her wash on a clothesline in the backyard.

She didn’t bother telling her grandmother that she should get a clothes dryer. The older woman would just argue that she didn’t believe the expense was warranted when she didn’t have that many clothes to dry and she was perfectly capable of hanging them up herself.

Cat stepped through the back screen door and walked down the creaking wooden steps to the back yard and joined her grandmother beneath the clothesline.

“How are you this morning, Grandma?” Cat asked as she picked up a white housedress with sprigs of flowers on it and used two wooden clothespins to secure it to the line.

“It’s a beautiful day and I’m still alive and kicking.” Grandma Hayden gave Cat a smile. “I’d say I’m doing pretty well.”

Cat smiled back as she pinned up a blue washcloth. A breeze caused the clothing and linens to flap in the sunshine. Together, Cat and her grandmother put a set of flowered sheets on one of the lines and they billowed in the light wind. Cat loved the smell of clean linens and the cool feel of the damp cloth against her hands as she hung them up.

Grandma hung up a slip. “You spend far too much time with an old woman.”

“I love time with you.” Cat smiled. “Why do you think I came back permanently?”

Grandma Hayden looked at Cat. “You didn’t have to come out here just for me, but it’s darned good to have you here.”

“It’s good to be here.” Cat gave her grandmother a kiss on her soft, papery cheek.

When they finished hanging up the laundry, Grandma Hayden said, “I’m going to start supper now.”

“Can’t wait.” Cat carried the laundry basket on her hip as she followed her grandmother up the back steps into the house. “What can I do?”

Grandma Hayden glanced over her shoulder. “Why don’t you help me make the biscuits?”

“Sure.” Cat nodded.

Cat’s grandmother paused on the top step and held her hand to her stomach. Pain flashed across her face.

“Grandma?” Cat’s heart squeezed. “Are you okay?”

The pain vanished from Grandma Hayden’s face. She gave Cat a smile that looked a little forced. “I’m fine.” She turned and pulled open the screen door.

The screen door squeaked as they walked through it and it made a thumping sound when Cat let it go behind her. The sight of her grandmother in pain made her ache inside. She latched the screen door with its hook then set the plastic laundry basket on top of the washing machine before going into the kitchen.

Her grandmother had just finished tying on a flowered apron with frills on the hem. Likely she’d made it herself.

“How’s that boy doing?” Grandma Hayden asked as she brought a package of chicken out from the fridge.

“Boy?” Cat’s brows knitted together. Then it dawned on her. She meant Blake. All of Cat’s friends from when she was young were still “boy” or “girl” to Grandma Hayden.

Cat’s body heated like it always did when she thought about Blake, the man. How did Grandma Hayden know if she’d even seen Blake since she’d been back?

“Blake McBride,” Grandma said. “Who else would I be talking about, girl?”

Cat swallowed as she took baking powder out of the pantry. “He’s doing good. Did you know he has a daughter?”

“I’ve run into him a time or two over the past nearly twenty years,” the older woman said. “The last time I saw him…must have been a couple of years ago now. His little girl was with him. Cute little blonde thing.”

“She is cute.” Cat nodded, trying not to think about this morning and the dismayed look on Demi’s face.

“And?” Grandma Hayden gave her a sly look as she got out flour for the biscuits and to coat the chicken.

“His daughter is in the 4-H horse club that I’m leading now.” Cat got measuring cups and spoons out. “Not to mention, he’s a client at my accounting firm.”

“And you went out with him to the Hummingbird this week,” Grandma Hayden said.

“I was going to tell you, but I didn’t get a chance.” Cat cut her gaze to her grandmother. “How did you know?”

“I have my ways.” The older woman gave a mysterious smile. “How was it, dear?”

“It was nice.” Cat smiled as she thought about the fondue and the kiss.

“He’s a good boy.” Grandma Hayden nodded. “You couldn’t do any better.”

Cat shook her head. “Just because I’m back doesn’t mean that Blake and I are going to get back together, Grandma.”

With a shrug, her grandmother said, “You two belong together. You always have.”

“Things have changed,” Cat said quietly. “We’re different people now.”

Grandma Hayden set aside the paprika she’d been shaking into the coating she was making for the chicken. She spoke in her no-nonsense voice as she eyed Cat. “Don’t let anything like a little scar change how you feel about yourself, Catharine Hayden. Don’t let it hold you back. You’re a beautiful young woman and you’d better start believing that.”

Her grandmother had always seemed to know what was bothering her no matter how much she tried to hide it.

Cat didn’t look at her grandmother for a long moment. When she did, she went for a smile. “I love you, Grandma.”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” her grandmother said, but smiled.

“I’m afraid.” Cat bit her lower lip before she continued. “If I fall for him again and he doesn’t feel the same way about me… I don’t know if my heart can take that.”

“You can’t live your life afraid, Catharine.” Grandma Hayden adjusted her apron. “You go after what will make you happy. If things don’t work out you move on. What are those lines from that poem? ’Tis better to have loved and lost…”

“Than never to have loved at all,” Cat finished.

“I always did like Tennyson.” Grandma Hayden went back to preparing the chicken. “You remember that, girl.”

Cat thought about what her grandmother had said. “I will, Grandma.”

At least she’d try.

Chapter 11

Cat sat astride the horse that had almost killed her. It was Firestorm. Fear shot through her belly but she tried not to let the horse know she was afraid. If he knew she was afraid he would try to throw her and try to kill her again.

She and Firestorm were alone in the middle of a rodeo arena, the sun shining, the wind blowing just enough to raise her hair above her shoulders and causing small dust devils to swirl in the dirt around Firestorm’s hooves.

A presence caused her to look to her right and she saw Blake astride a mare beside her and Firestorm. Blake’s presence was solid and comforting, yet he was staring ahead and his features appeared tight, as if he was in some kind of pain.

She turned to see what he was looking at and she froze. People she knew stood in an arc in front of them now, coming out of nowhere. And they were laughing and pointing. At her.

Heated embarrassment burned her skin. Her friend, Jackie… Penny, the waitress… The Hummingbird’s hostess, Tess… Marsha Solara, the accountant she worked with… The kids from the 4-H horse club… Eddie, her ex-husband… Toby… Demi.

All pointing and laughing at her.

“Look at her. Look at that scar. Isn’t she ugly?”

Tears backed up behind Cat’s eyes. She looked at Blake and saw something like pain on his face as he looked at her tormentors. He said nothing.

She clenched her fists on Firestorm’s reins and prepared to take off, but something kept her and the horse frozen to the spot, unable to escape the ridicule.

“Please stop,” she sobbed the words.

Tears flowing down her cheeks, she whirled Firestorm around and they bolted toward barrels she hadn’t noticed before. She ignored Blake’s call to her and the horse galloped faster.

The fear she felt at being astride the horse that had almost killed her, magnified. What was she doing riding him?

But pain filled her heart so much that she almost didn’t care.

Firestorm reached the barrels and they started racing the familiar cloverleaf pattern. She urged the horse to move faster and faster and he followed her commands.

But, when they reached the last barrel, Firestorm came to a complete stop, almost throwing her. Terror caused her to scream and she clung to the saddle horn as the gelding reared up on his hind legs and she almost fell.

She fought for control but there was no controlling the horse. She screamed again then found herself airborne.

The doctor’s words rang in her ears as she sailed through the air in an impossibly long arc.
“You shouldn’t ride horses anymore… Next time you might not be so lucky.”

Vaguely she saw Blake running toward her, fear on his strong features. His shout was faint to her ears.

The ground came up to meet her in a rush.

She screamed again.

“No.”
Cat thrashed.
“No.”

She opened her eyes and realized she was in her own bed as her ceiling came into focus. Tangled around her legs, her sheets were damp from perspiration.

“Damn.” She rubbed her eyes and found they were wet.

Her heart continued to pound as if she was really in that arena and had just been thrown. The terror had been so real that she almost couldn’t separate her emotions.

She realized she was clenching her hands in her sleep shirt at her chest. She tried to relax her grip but couldn’t unclench her fingers.

It had been so long since she’d had a nightmare about riding Firestorm. This was the first time other people had been present.

Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm down and slow her heart rate. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It was just a nightmare.

Her head started to ache and she was afraid a migraine was coming on. She always ended up with a migraine after dreaming about Firestorm.