A Cowboy's Pride

by Karen Rock

  “Hylda?”

  “Oh, thank God.” Her agent’s nasal voice, a sound resembling an autotuned cat in heat, scratched through the speaker. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days. Why haven’t you returned my texts?”

  Cole covered one ear and mouthed “Ouch” before returning his hand to the wheel.

  Katlynn rolled her eyes and decreased her phone’s volume. “Reception’s spotty out here and—”

  “Never mind,” Hylda cut her off, brusque. Ruthless and all business, she was one of Hollywood’s top agents with little time to waste. Rumor had it she’d negotiated a six-million-dollar commercial deal and had a mani-pedi while giving birth to her first child last year. “I’ve got an offer from Celebrity Survivor. Are you interested?”

  The truck slowed as they approached a road work site illuminated by large outdoor lights. She glimpsed Cole’s quick glance from the corner of her eye.

  “The show where they starve and physically and emotionally torture you for months?”

  “Sounds fun, right?”

  “Hylda...”

  “Imagine how thin you’ll get.”

  “I don’t care about that.” As soon as she said the words, Katlynn knew them to be true. Eating real food, wearing regular clothes, relaxing her workout routines this past week had been a vacation from her regular life...or maybe this was regular life and what she’d been living for the past twelve years was just a facade. Glittering on the outside, empty and bare on the inside.

  Hylda laugh-snorted. “Good one, Katlynn. Anyway. What should I tell them? It’d be great exposure, and given what’s going on with Scandalous History, we need to be thinking of ways to keep you relevant.”

  Fear tolled in Katlynn’s chest. “Have you heard anything more about the show?”

  Hylda hummed under her breath, a tick of hers usually heralding bad news. “Ultima’s moved forward on Millennial Millionaires and ordered a pilot.”

  Katlynn gasped, and Cole squeezed her hand, a warm, fast, reassuring grip, before releasing it.

  “Nothing’s been decided in terms of replacing Scandalous History. Lots of pilots are made and forgotten.” Papers rustled in the background, a sign her agent multitasked as usual. “Tape the episode of your career, come back strong and we’ll see where we stand. If all else fails, call Seth Rutherford. You went yachting with him in St. Barts, and his father owns Ultima. He looked pretty smitten in the tabloid pictures.”

  The truck leaped forward as they cleared the orange cones. A glance at the lit dash revealed the needle pushing seventy-five and Cole’s white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

  “I went with a friend and barely spoke to him.”

  “The article said you two were canoodling.”

  “They always say that.” She fought the urge to squeeze Cole’s arm, to reassure him.

  Reassure him of what?

  He had no competition?

  True enough, but she’d led him on already when she’d kissed him in Aunt Susanna’s attic. She wouldn’t mess with his heart when she had no intention of staying in Carbondale permanently...no matter how much she enjoyed being home with him.

  “Wouldn’t hurt you to reach out to Seth,” Hylda insisted. “Let him buy you dinner. See how things go...”

  “I’m not getting involved with him for my career!”

  “Come on, Katlynn. You know how things work out here. This is Hollywood, not Cartoonville, Colorado.”

  A dark scoffing noise erupted from Cole.

  “It’s Carbondale,” Katlynn gritted out. Of course she knew how things worked in Hollywood. She’d accepted those unwritten rules long ago. Only they didn’t sit well with her anymore, not after spending time with a man of integrity, honesty and determination. Cole wouldn’t compromise his values, or himself, to get ahead; he wouldn’t change who he was. He was confident in his own skin and adamant in what he believed.

  And what did she believe?

  She wasn’t sure anymore except for one thing.

  She was falling for Cole Loveland again. Hard.

  Lord help her.

  Hylda yawned. “Shall I Fed-Ex the contract?”

  “Fine.” Katlynn rattled off the Loveland Hills’s address.

  “And I’ll message Seth’s assistant about a dinner date when you’re back.”

  “Are you going out with Seth Rutherford?” Cole asked tightly when she ended the call, his voice a low, deep rasp.

  “No.”

  Only Cole’s long exhale and the powerful throb of his V8 engine filled the silence.

  “You don’t have to do that crap,” he said.

  Her mouth dropped open. “Celebrity Survivor?”

  Cole nodded.

  “You heard Hylda. I need to keep myself relevant, especially if my show’s canceled.”

  “You’ll find something else.”

  “Not right away, and the public might forget about me.”

  “And that’s bad because...?”

  She rubbed her damp palms on her jeans, grappling with her answer.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Cole coaxed, his gruff voice tender. How she loved the soft side to this tough guy, a part of him he always reserved just for her. “Tell me what’s really going on. Pretend we’re at our Say Anything tree and don’t hold back. Not from me.” The feel of Cole’s calloused fingers, threading through hers, steadying her, halted her tumbling thoughts.

  Truth time.

  “Remember how I used to complain about growing up in a big family? How no one noticed me much?”

  Cole nodded.

  “All I ever wanted was to feel like I counted. The only way I feel like I even exist is when others see me,” she admitted.

  “I see you,” Cole said quietly. Then, in a hushed voice she had to strain to hear, he murmured, “I’ve always seen you.”

  Her heart swooned. First her family, now this... “Cole. I—” Her buzzing phone stopped her from revealing the truth she’d been about to spill.

  Saved by the bell.

  She spotted the Cades’ home number on her screen and tapped the answer button.

  “Hello?”

  “I found something, something belonging to Maggie Cade.” Joy’s excited voice practically bubbled through the speaker.

  Cole turned his head sharply in Katlynn’s direction. Her pulse picked up steam. “What is it?”

  “After the game, things here were...ah...a little tense.”

  A short bark of laughter escaped Cole.

  “Is that Cole?”

  “Hi, Joy.”

  “I know Justin is sorry for giving you the shiner.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Cole said drily.

  “Suffice it to say,” Joy said, “I’m not proud of my children’s conduct.”

  “No one was innocent,” Cole reassured her. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Kind of you, Cole. Thanks.” Joy’s sigh floated softly through the phone’s speaker. “I hope... I hope we can find a way to come together.”

  When Cole agreed, Joy cleared her throat. “Anyway, I decided to peek around the ranch’s old carriage house. I had a hunch if any of Maggie’s things remained, they’d be in there. No one’s gone through that junk in decades. A hope chest with Maggie’s initials was under a pile in a far corner. At first, I didn’t find much of anything. I was about to close it when I realized it was narrower inside than the outside suggested.”

  “A false panel?” Katlynn’s voice rose, urgent.

  “Yes. And inside it was a journal. Maggie Cade’s personal diary.”

  They exchanged a swift look, Cole’s eyes beaming at her in the dim. As he cranked the wheel, turning, Katlynn breathed, “We’ll be right there.”

  Thirty minutes later they sat beside each other in the Lovelands’ lantern-lit gazebo, far from eve
ryone’s prying eyes as they read through Maggie’s entries.

  “‘December 24, Tuesday,’” Katlynn read aloud. “‘Our Christmas tree went up this night. It was beautiful beyond imagining. I swooned, fancying the Lord watching over us, delighted at our tribute to His mighty grace.’

  “‘I had twenty presents among which was Cora’s Tear, which Gran most graciously gifted to me! She would not countenance any objections as to my relative youth, declaring my age now—eighteen—old enough to pass down to the oldest Cade girl for her dowry as is our tradition. I dream of finding my one true love, a heart to know mine. I pinned Cora’s Tear to my shawl and shall fall asleep with it, hoping it sends me dreams of a future as bright and shining and beautiful.’”

  Cole cleared his throat and turned the page, his rough fingers lingering over Katlynn’s for a breathtaking minute.

  “‘December 25, 1906,’” he read. “‘This seems very like Sunday as we went to church this morning—we were again tortured by a most frightful new hymn which I must confess, I didn’t know a bit, so sang La La to it! At which Everett Cade, the youngest of our neighbors, caught me. He gave me a most improper wink. When I lifted my nose and glared, he grinned without the least concern to propriety. That was when I noticed how handsome he was. Oh, diary. He’s not the kind of man a proper young lady of means should notice. Yet his dimples, one in each cheek, lend him such a rakish air. I fear I became utterly taken with him.’”

  Katlynn laughed. “I sense chemistry...”

  “Everybody loves a bad boy.” Cole flipped the page.

  “Yes, we do...” She slid him a sideways glance. Beyond the gazebo, June bugs banged against the screens as moths whirred and fluttered, seeking light.

  “Am I a bad boy?”

  “Let’s see.” Katlynn tapped her chin, breathing in the cool mountain air, fresh balsam and columbine. “You’re stubborn. Fiercely independent. Thickheaded. A loner. Extremely protective of those you love.” She paused and touched the black-and-blue ring around his eye. “Does that hurt?”

  “Only when you touch it.”

  His wry tone conjured a smile from her. “And you’re sarcastic.”

  “Verdict is...”

  “Trouble.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Goose bumps rose on her arms at his expression, an intense mixture of hope and longing that pierced her straight through. “Trouble for me. Cole, I don’t want to care about you.”

  “Don’t want to,” he said slowly, rubbing his jaw. “Which means...you do care?” His eyes lit up.

  “I can’t do anything about it, but yes.”

  His grin was sudden and enormous and did funny things to her heart...like turning it into a somersaulting gymnast. “Same.”

  She biffed his shoulder. “Now that’s romantic.”

  “Hey.” Cole rubbed his shoulder, mock-offended. “You’re the one who called me trouble. Is that how you speak to people you care about?”

  “How should I speak to you?” Her breath caught when his grin faded, and his gaze swerved to her lips.

  “I prefer actions to words...” He leaned down and brushed her mouth with a heady, pulse-jumping kiss.

  Katlynn pressed a hand to his chest, halting him, pulling back. “Let’s figure out Maggie and Everett’s romance first.”

  “And then?” Vulnerability shaded his deep blue eyes and tightened the corners of his mouth.

  “We’ll see where we stand.”

  “Kind of like Survivor.”

  “Shut up and give me the journal.” Katlynn forced her attention back on the entries. “‘At our church dinner, Everett took three servings of the pudding I served! He was quite dashing and most persistent, coaxing me to dance the jig with him. I quite lost myself, laughing and making a spectacle in a most unladylike way. At my mother’s glare, I begged off, telling Everett that proper ladies don’t dance the jig with strange men. And he said, “You’re not proper. That’s what I like about you. That and your pretty strawberry blond hair.”’

  “‘Oh, diary. I must admit how very vain I’ve become of my hair after his compliment, and how often I’ve sat at the glass, brushing it, picturing his dark, twinkling eyes, hearing him say he liked me.’”

  Cole whistled. “Maggie sounds smitten.”

  “He’s taken with her, too.”

  They read through several more passages chronicling the growing, illicit romance between Maggie and Everett. All around them, bullfrogs serenaded the rising half-moon while a cool breeze drifted through the screen.

  “‘A kiss cannot be stolen when given freely,’” Katlynn read aloud from a passage dated February, 1906. “‘And I bestow it most fervently on Everett when we meet upon the ridge each dawn, with only the rousting mourning doves and rustling Scotch pines to bear witness.’”

  Then, in March. “‘On a bed of the softest moss, to the burble of a spring-fed brook, I have quite lost myself in Everett and he in me,’” Maggie wrote. “‘We became one; a holy communion of heart, soul and body. Now we are joined, we shall never be put asunder. Everett wishes to speak to Pa, but without means to provide for me, as though I need more than his love, we must wait.’”

  Katlynn traced Maggie’s scrawled words, absorbing the young woman’s joy and dreams. She’d been Maggie once. In love and naively certain of her own unending happiness. Unlike Maggie, however, she’d had a choice, one she now second-guessed. “They were meeting secretly.”

  When she shivered, Cole slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his solid warmth. “Remember the letter where she asked Everett to return home and meet her?”

  Katlynn stiffened. “She said she buried a priceless secret there.”

  “Cora’s Tear,” Cole said quickly. “Why?”

  “Let’s keep reading.”

  Katlynn and Cole skimmed several more pages then stopped. “‘Oh, black day, why did you dawn?’” she read from an April entry. “‘Pa has announced I must marry a man thrice my age. A horrid, joyless person who promises to give me everything I want when all I desire is Everett. When I rode out to meet Everett, Mr. Farthington’s servant followed me and nearly glimpsed Everett, who hid himself in the mulberry bushes. I will not marry him! Pa and Mr. Farthington have set a wedding date and Cora’s Tear is to be part of my dowry. I will not let him have it or me!’”

  Another few weeks of passages, then, “‘I am with child. A miracle beyond imagining that brings my beloved and me joy and sorrow. To our surprise, Everett’s been offered a position to build the new Crystal River railroad line. However, he must leave me, a separation we must bear for the greater good. He promises to be back before my wedding to Mr. Farthington, with enough cash on hand to win my father’s blessing. He will not have it any other way, though I beg him to take me with him. He’s too proud to gain another man’s fortune by marrying into it and determined to find a way to provide for me himself. Stubborn man, how I do love him.’”

  “Sounds like a Loveland,” Cole said, his voice thick.

  “Loyal, honorable and stubborn all right.” Katlynn eyed Cole. “This proves he didn’t want Cora’s Tear.”

  “We need to prove it to the Cades and end the feud before the wedding.” Cole swatted away a hovering mosquito. “There’s bound to be more fights otherwise.”

  “An episode this scandalous might be enough to save our show.” Her heartbeat quickened. “But we need more evidence.”

  Their fingers twined, locking around each other. “We’ll get it,” Cole vowed.

  “The ink’s smeared.” Katlynn peered closer at the next entry. “She was crying.”

  She pressed the tip of her finger to the blurred script then read, “‘Oh, evil, despicable man. In desperation, I have confided to Mr. Farthington that I am with child and begged him to release me, but he will not. He says I’ve proven fertile, and he’s in need of an
heir. If I confess to my parents, he will claim the child as his own and deny Everett.’”

  Katlynn’s eyes flew to Cole, whose slack jaw and wide-eyes reflected her own shock. “‘Yes. He knows about Everett and me,’” Katlynn continued in a shaking voice. “‘His servant man spied my beloved the night he followed me and has watched me ever since. Worse, he arranged for Everett’s job to rid himself of his rival. I cannot let him succeed... How does one outwit a monster?’”

  “Poor Maggie. She was trapped and alone,” Katlynn murmured. “Everett shouldn’t have left her.”

  “He wanted to do right by her. Provide for their future,” Cole said gruffly, then turned the next page. “‘Fear lays heavy in my heart. There are whispers in town, rumors Mr. Farthington may have killed his wives for their money. Today, government agents visited his home while we had tea. I overheard mention of missing funds, and an audit of his financial records. Now he intends to move up our wedding date. Does he plan to marry me for my dowry then take my life, too? I must write and urge Everett home, or I shall be lost to him forever.’”

  At last, they reached the final entry in the journal.

  “‘Tomorrow is my wedding, a blasphemous day that must not be. Will Everett meet me tonight at our special place? I’ve heard no word. I buried our future there and if I cannot reach him, then let him have this piece of me and the future denied us.’” Katlynn’s throat constricted, rendering her speechless.

  Cole guided her head down to his shoulder and read on, his voice hoarse. “‘But I shall not despair. My beloved will come for me and our child.’” Cole stroked the top of Katlynn’s head, gently, reverently, his fingers sliding lower to thread in her hair. “‘A love like ours cannot have been created in vain. Life, please let us live. Love, please let us love. I am a fanciful girl who wanders in fairy tales. I pray for my happily-ever-after.’”

  Katlynn stared up at Cole, his face blurry through the wash of her tears. “She didn’t get her wish.”

  “Neither did Everett.” Cole’s arm tightened around her.

  “And she buried Cora’s Tear. It wasn’t on her when they found her body because she’d hidden it. Where?”