by Ciana Stone
"Speaking of Harley, Bailey said she's a rodeo champion?"
"Oh, my gosh, I forgot to introduce her to Rusty. I need to do that."
"Don't you want your tea?"
"No, I'm fine. But are you?"
"I am now. Thank you, honey."
"Any time," Naomie stood and leaned over to give DeLyn a kiss on the cheek. "I love you, you know."
"I do, and I love you."
"Course you do," Naomie said and grinned. "Now to make Rusty's day."
She was a bit late on the introductions, however, because the moment she walked into the family room, Rusty grabbed her hand and crowed. "Naomie, you won't believe it. This is the Harley Lawson, the only woman to win at Nationals as part of a roping team. And three-time world champion barrel racer."
"You're kidding?"
Rusty grinned and hugged her. "I guess you knew, huh, since you're friends. You have the coolest friends."
"Don't I?" Naomie hugged him tightly. "And I bet if you ask, tomorrow Harley would give you a few roping pointers. Isn't that right, Harley?"
"Are you kidding? I'd be honored to work with a young man who qualified for the National LBR."
"Yay!" Naomie cheered and clapped, and after a moment Bailey and then Minnie joined in.
Rusty grinned from ear to ear, and Naomie committed the moment to memory, a small moment in time when innocence, happiness, and excitement washed away all else.
Chapter Eleven
Why didn't Delaney want to come?" Naomie asked.
Cici shrugged. "She said she'd rather go over and stay with Gigi and watch movies. You know Delaney, she's not much of a party person. Besides, I think she was waiting on a call from her new guy."
"Who's her new guy?"
"I don't know, she won't say, but Gigi says Delaney has been spending a lot of time in Dallas and has made trips to New York, D.C. and Los Angeles, where this guy owns homes. Apparently, she's redoing all of them."
"Well, I hope it works out for her but hate that she's missing out."
"Me too." Cici looked around at her family who took up the entire top floor of the Honky Tonk.
Everyone was eating and talking, laughing and having a good time and Naomie knew they were all filled with a huge sense of relief after hearing what Harley had to say. Now they all felt that Kal would be cleared and that gave them cause to celebrate.
"Want to dance?" Kal asked Cici.
"You better believe it."
The second-floor private dining area was essentially a loft, overlooking the ground floor. It was situated directly above the bar but afforded a good view of tables, the dance floor and stage below. Naomie watched as Cici and Kal made their way to the dance floor, and he swung her into a spirited two-step.
Dillon and Josie slid over into the seats Cici and Kal vacated as Mace and Bailey headed for the dancefloor. Harley and Nash were the first ones on the floor when the music started and hadn't returned to the table.
"I'm surprised you're not dancing," Naomie commented to Josie.
"Dillon's knee is bothering him a bit. And I had a good workout with the gymnastics team today along with volleyball practice."
"You're coaching the volleyball team, too?"
"There wasn't anyone else and to tell you the truth, we have a heck of a strong team."
"Well, my hat's off to you. You're probably the most in-shape person in Cotton Creek."
"And the most tired. But we wanted to show support for Cici, and I'm very happy for her and Kal."
"You're okay with them, right?" Dillon asked his father.
Russell shrugged. "It's her life, and if Kal's her choice, then I'll support her."
"That doesn't sound very enthusiastic."
Naomie was secretly glad Dillon had responded that way. She didn't want to be the one to remind Russell that his words had consequence. Not only in the words he chose, but how he spoke them. Cici would have been crushed to hear his response to Dillon.
"I like Kal, and I hope they'll be happy, but I have concerns," Russell commented
"What kind?"
"Well, he is a good bit older."
Dillon laughed. "Oh, I thought there was something serious."
"You don't think that's serious?"
"No. Why should I? He's healthy and sharp, and chances are, he has a good thirty years or more. Look at Gramps and Gigi. He was a lot older and what they had was what I wished for." He paused and looked at Josie. "I got lucky and found it, but I'd have married her if she'd been twenty years older without batting my eyes."
"Oh, you sweet-talker," Josie teased. "Come on, take me home and tell me more."
Dillon smiled. "My pleasure. Dad, Naomie, have a good night and tell Cici we're really happy for her. We'll see you all at the picnic tomorrow."
"Picnic?" Russell asked.
"DeLyn is organizing a picnic," Naomie informed him. "At the lake."
"Clear Springs Lake?"
"No, the one near Heritage East," Dillon answered.
"Oh, well, I guess I'll see you then. Drive safe."
"We're just a few blocks away, Dad."
"But he will," Josie added. "See you tomorrow."
Naomie turned her attention back to the people on the dance floor when Josie and Dillon left. "Look at Mace and Bailey," she touched Russell's arm. "I bet you a hundred dollars they'll be married before the end of the year."
"What makes you so sure?"
"The way they look at one another," she could almost feel it from where she sat. "The way they're lost in the look they share, their bodies moving as one and the expression on their faces. It says all too clearly they're head-over-heels in love."
She turned her gaze to Russell. "You wouldn't object to that, would you?"
"No, not at all. Bailey's a real fine person, and that little girl of hers is about the cutest thing I've ever seen, and Mace is just as in love with her as he is her mama."
"And her with him. They make a good couple – a good family, and they want to have a family. Mace wants a big family, and I think he wants to move back to the main estate, build a house near Nash so his kids can grow up surrounded by family."
"We could make that happen."
"I know you can. And I know you'd love to have more grandchildren, too."
"I would."
"Well, be careful what you wish for, Mr. Walker. You just might get it."
"From your mouth to God's ears."
"Yes, indeed. So, are you going to sit there all night or ask me to dance?"
"Naomie, would you like to dance?"
"Why, Mr. Walker, what a nice surprise. I'd purely love to."
"Smart-ass."
It wasn't lost on Russell that more than a few sets of male eyes watched Naomie as he escorted her to the dance floor. He didn't blame them. Naomie was gorgeous, exotic and one of the most naturally sensual women he'd ever met. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't a boost to his ego to be dancing with someone so stunning.
He'd also be lying if he said he didn't love the way she looked at him, as if he was the most handsome man in the place and she had eyes only for him. That was heady stuff, and he had to remind himself daily not to let himself fall victim to her magic. Russell didn't believe for a second that Naomie would lead him on, or that she'd use him. He trusted her and believed when she said she cared.
But he was still damn scared that whatever she felt now would fade and one day she'd see him as a mistake, and he was pretty sure that would crush the life right out of him. As silly as it sounded, even to him, she was probably the love of his life and the one woman he couldn't have because he was too scared of the possibility of losing her.
Chicken shit. He heard his father's voice in his head and couldn't disagree. He was, but he'd accept the condemnation that went with that and protect his heart.
Or not. Good Lord and a quarter, when she came into his arms, pressing close and moving to the music, he had a hard time sticking to his guns and not letting himself fall into the spell she w
ove.
To his great surprise, he lost track of time as they danced, teased, laughed and changed partners with his sons and daughter. Russell danced with Bailey and Cici and Harley and watched with a small measure of jealousy as Mace and Nash took turns twirling Naomie across the floor, putting on a show and being flirtatious with her.
She laughed and teased right back, even made Kal laugh out loud, and her zest for life swept out like an exploding nova, affecting every person it touched. And then she returned to him, looped her arms around his neck and placed the side of her face against his chest as the music slowed.
"I love this," she said.
"This song?"
"No, this. Your arms around me, in public where God and everyone can see, feeling your heartbeat against my face and knowing that every woman here, except your daughter and Bailey, wants to be where I am."
"You sure know how to flatter a man."
"It's not flattery, Russ." She looked up at him. "Just God's honest truth. And as much as I love it, I'm tired, and I want to go home."
"We rode with Nash."
"Yes we did, but he was kind enough to give me his keys." She pulled the key fob from her pocket. "He and Harley will ride back with Mace and Bailey. So, will you take me home?"
"I will. Let me settle up the bill."
"Okay, I'll scoot to the ladies' room and meet you at the truck."
A few minutes later, they were in the truck and headed home. "So, I want to ask about what you and Harley told us earlier. Are you convinced that the conclusions you reached will hold up?"
"Absolutely."
"But you're not with law enforcement, and they did all you did the night of the shooting and didn't come up with the same thing."
"Because they weren't looking," she said and rolled down her window to let the night air in. She gathered her long hair and pulled it over her shoulder, hanging onto it. "They just assumed. And the evidence is pretty clear based on just the trajectory of the bullets and Kal's height. It's scientifically improbable that he fired the gun with his non-dominant hand and hit Robert three times. And his prints on the weapon are suspect as well."
"You seem very confident."
"I am."
"So, how about you tell me, in detail, everything you and Harley did and what it means."
"Right now? It'll take an hour."
"That's about how long it'll take to get home."
"Okay, fine." She cleared her mind of all else and focused on giving him precise information without elaboration.
Russell interrupted a few times for clarification, but primarily just listened. When they pulled up in front of her cottage, she finished with, "and that's why I believe she'll find corroborating evidence in the ME's records and the charges will be dropped."
Russell was silent for a few moments then turned his head to look at her. "I want to thank you."
"For what?"
"For being so steadfast in your support, for getting Harley here, and for making my daughter feel that she wasn't alone when her family was doing a piss-poor job of supporting her. It's not lost on me, Naomie, what you do for us. For all of us, but most of all for me. I'm grateful and would do anything to prove that."
"I don't need proof."
"I'd like to do something. Surely there's something you want."
"Oh, there is, but I won't ask, and I wouldn't take it even if you offered."
"Well, that sounds mysterious. What is it you would want if you were inclined to take it?
Naomie considered it for a moment. "Two things."
"Okay, what's first?"
"A kiss."
"A kiss, that’s all?"
"That's first."
Russell knew he was playing with fire, but at the moment he didn't have the strength or the desire to refuse, so he reached out and took hold of her arm to pull her close as he leaned in toward her. Their lips met, and it was a kiss that spoke of more than what could be put into words. Her hand moved to the side of his face, soft and gentle and a small sound came from her, the sound a woman makes when she's filled with emotion.
He recognized the sound, shared the feeling and let the kiss go on until she pulled away. "Thank you."
"You sure don’t have to thank me for that. But you said two things. What's next?"
"I don't think there is anything else. That's enough."
"Why do I feel like you're holding out on me?"
She shrugged and opened her door. "I have no idea. Text me when you're home."
Russell chuckled. "You're worried I won't make it a mile to the house?"
"No, I just want to hear your voice when you get in bed before you fall asleep. I guess that's the second thing."
"Okay, if that's what you want."
"It is. Good night, Russ. Thanks for dancing with me. And kissing me."
"It was my pleasure."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
She slid out of the truck, walked the short distance to the cottage, and went inside. Russell waited until the door was closed and a light came on, and then he started the truck and drove home.
DeLyn had left a light on in the foyer, which he turned off before he headed upstairs. Russell undressed and started to go into the bathroom to brush his teeth, but her taste was still on his tongue, so he decided against it.
He climbed into bed, picked up his cell phone from the nightstand and texted her. I'm here.
Are you in bed?
I am.
I have something for you, Russ.
What?
A truth.
"A truth?" he mumbled as he texted. Okay, tell me.
Thanks to cell phone technology, he could tell she was typing, but it sure seemed to be taking a long time. He started to feel anxious. What was she writing? Was it something that was going to turn his world to shit? She had the power to do that. All she had to do was say she was leaving.
He started to imagine that, feeling sick and apprehensive, and even his hands began to sweat.
"What truth?" he asked aloud as he texted the same.
There was no response.
Naomie? Are you there?
What truth?
For nearly an entire minute he stared at the face of the phone. He was just about to call her when the phone pinged.
I nearly chickened out. You asked me once if I'd ever been in love and I said I thought I was. That wasn't a lie. I've loved many people in my life and will cherish them and the role they played as long as I live.
But being "in love"? That's something I thought I would be denied, that my error in judgment, my foolishness in trusting someone who shouldn't be trusted, had stripped me of the ability to trust and love.
Then I met you and God as my witness, the first time I saw you, time stopped. It was as if I'd been waiting my entire life for that moment and you. Because of you, I know, Russ. I know what it feels to take that fall, which means I know what it's like to fear that this overwhelming emotion I carry around will be wasted because it'll never be returned.
We keep circling one another, performing this dance– pulling each other close then backing away, letting fear or – or something– keep us always Miss Kitty and Marshall Dillon.
If that's all we can ever have, I'll accept it, but I know now I have to hear it from you. Tell me you don't want me, that there's no chance and I'll suffer the hurt and live with the pain, but I'll still love you, always protect you and your family however I can.
Just not from here. When the breeding program is fully implemented and sound, I'll have to leave. I don't think I'm strong enough to be Miss Kitty forever.
I thought I could go on indefinitely with this charade, but it's not in my nature to pretend. Robert and DeLyn helped me to understand that I don't have to be ashamed of my feelings. So, I'll say this once and then not again unless you ask me to.
I love you.
Russell stared at his phone, reading the words over and again. I love you. The words hit him like a truck, leaving him reeling. I love y
ou. Everything inside him wanted to hear her speak those words, to look him in the eyes and say it.
He heard his father's voice in his mind. Boy, I didn't raise a fool, and a fool is what you'll be if you don't claim the love that's being offered, the love you want so bad.
Claim. That's exactly what he wanted. To claim that love. Then why in all that was holy, was he sitting there, staring at his damn phone?
Russell threw back the bedcovers, got out of bed and dressed. He took the stairs two at a time, snatched his keys from the bowl on the foyer table and headed out the front door. That's when the sound of gunfire shattered the quiet of the night.
He was in his SUV in seconds, heading for the barns where lights now blazed. The ranch foreman, Jordan was just pulling up in his truck when Russell arrived at the barn. "What's going on?" Russell asked as he jumped out of his SUV.
"Lion," one of the hands, John Sampson answered. "Mauled one of the calves we had penned to ship out tomorrow."
"Will it live?"
"It's pretty cut up."
"Call Dr. Taylor, Jordan"
"Now?"
"Do it."
"Yes, sir." Jordan stepped away, pulling out his phone and Russell turned his attention back to John.
"I heard shots. Did you kill it?"
"No, sir. I don't even think we hit it, to be honest."
"Well, it's one damn hungry cat to come up in here, so post watch, twenty-four-seven, until it's caught or killed."
"She's on her way," Jordan announced. "We'll get the calf into the barn."
Russell waited and watched as the men moved the calf. Five minutes later Naomie drove up, got out of her truck and yelled to Jordan who was coming out of the barn. "Where is it?"
"In here."
She grabbed her bag from the back seat and with a nod to Russell, headed into the barn. He wasn't sure if her rather lukewarm reception was because she was upset about the calf, or the text, and didn't quite know what to do.
So, he took the path of least resistance, and perhaps the coward's way out, told Jordan to have someone let him know about the calf and headed back home, wondering just how bad he'd screwed up with Naomie and if she'd give him another chance.
Moreover, if she would, did he have the guts to take it?
