Mad, she decided. “You’ve been waiting for me here? I was completely alone in that hospital for two weeks.” The anger felt good, she decided.
The deer-in-the-headlights look she got only made her face hotter. “What are you talking about?”
“Two weeks, Travis! That’s a long time to go without a visit or a call or even a damn note.” She tried to scoot herself away from his hand but the effort made her dizzy.
He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let go of her. In fact, he seemed to have a tighter grip on her. “Didn’t you get my letter?” His hand slipped around the back of her neck, holding her in place—a foot from his face. “With the aloe plant?”
He didn’t give her a choice. The dead-set earnestness in his eyes was unavoidable. “No.” It came out as a sob, which was her first clue that she was crying. “You sent the plant?”
“I called after every surgery, sweetheart. I waited until I thought you’d be awake again, but the nurses always said you were sleeping. You didn’t get the messages?”
She shook her head. “You didn’t come.” Some awful combination of misplaced anguish and anger melded together until she was weeping. “I walked—you walked. You think the bulls matter more.”
The argument—one of the last things she remembered before getting on that damn bull—came rushing back to her, and she started to shake.
In a careful instant, he was on the bed next to her, his arms wrapped around her waist. Instinct kicked in, and she leaned against his chest. God, how she’d dreamed of his arms around her again. The knowledge that she’d lost this—that she’d been dumb enough to walk first—had been a pain far greater than any shattered bone.
“God, sweetheart—no.” Then he kissed her, his trembling lips searing themselves on her soul. “I’m so sorry. I thought—”
“You were so mad at me, and then you were right about that bull. When I didn’t hear from you, I thought you were gone.” The anger dripped out of her with the tears. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Ian said— Damn.” Travis went stiff with fury against her. “That bastard. I’m going to—” He caught himself. The anger left his body as he curled around her again. “He doesn’t matter. You’re all that matters to me, my rodeo June.”
“Why didn’t you come?” She was begging, she knew. But she needed to know. “Why did you leave me alone?”
“I sat with you for a while, but you were still under. Then Joseph called and said that he’d cover whatever we needed to make the ‘temporary housing’ more permanent. And I thought about everything you would need—everything I’d needed, the tub to soak, the ramp, the wheelchair, the rails—but I never had anyone waiting for me.” He took a ragged breath. “I wrote you a letter telling you I’d be here. I didn’t want to wake you up if you were sleeping—you need your rest—so I left messages.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but not a single dang thing came out. As she lay in his arms, all she could think was, Why didn’t I call him? Those phones worked both ways. One call and she wouldn’t have felt so alone. This whole stupid mess was entirely her fault.
“I was waiting for you, June. I wanted to make things easy for you.” He leaned back and fished around in his pocket until he came up with his keys. Was he going somewhere? “I never left you, sweetheart. I never should have left your side, I see that now. I promise, I’ll never leave you again.”
“I had to do it,” she said in a rush, desperate for forgiveness. “For me. And...I had to do it for Mitch. How could I not help a friend? I didn’t want him to be...”
He wiped the tears from her cheeks. After all this time, his touch just about broke her. “Like me. I understand. You are the best damned bull rider—man or woman—I’ve ever seen. I should have trusted you, believed in you. And I promise—I will never tell you what you can or cannot do ever again.” He gave her a weak grin. “I think I’ve learned my lesson on that one.”
He should have trusted her? Believed in her? The love pouring off this man made her throat close up. She wanted to tell him it was all her fault, but she couldn’t get the words out.
He hadn’t been trying to keep her off the bull because he thought she couldn’t do it. That wasn’t it at all. He’d been trying to protect her. She was the one who hadn’t realized the difference.
Maybe he didn’t understand her silence.
“This isn’t how I wanted it to go, sweetheart. This isn’t how I wanted it to be.”
“No?”
He leaned forward, his fingers curled around his key ring. “I wanted to find a place in this world where people didn’t pity me, didn’t judge me because I was a has-been bull rider who should have died in the arena. I wanted to belong, and I found that here. I belong here. I belong to you.”
“You were never those things to me. You were always so much more.” Her voice shook under the weight of her sobs.
He smiled, a sad thing that looked out of place on his face. “I got this for you. I wanted to give it to you in Vegas, and I had to go and mess it all up.” He began to fiddle with his key ring. “It’s yours. It’s always been yours. I just... I’m sorry that I couldn’t give it to you earlier.”
Then he had a ring, a small ring with a small diamond set in it, in his hand, and he was holding her hand and he was putting the ring in her palm. “I want to marry you.”
“A ring?”
“I got it a few weeks before we went to Vegas.”
A ring. From her man. Who’d almost married her in Vegas.
“I’m so sorry.” The words spilled out with the tears until she was just one big, muddled mess. “I’m so very sorry I’m so damn stubborn and didn’t listen to you. I thought I had to prove that I could do it—that I could do anything—that I was worth something.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes watering. “You’re worth everything to me.”
“I’m sorry.” That’s all she could say, but it wouldn’t ever be enough to make up for the heartache she’d caused them both. The prayer she’d prayed from the back of No Man’s Land came back to her. “Forgive me, Travis. Please.” They sat there, the pain in her heart mixing with the pain in her ankle. “Please.”
And then he was kissing her, the lips she’d dreamed about at night finally coming back to hers. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, June,” he whispered in her ear as he hugged her close. “I can’t live without you, because without you, I don’t know who I am. I forgive you, sweetheart. But only if you can forgive me.”
When she nodded yes into his neck, he clutched her hard and then fumbled the ring onto her finger. “Just promise me—”
It was an easy promise to make—and one she knew she’d keep. “I promise, Travis. I’ll never get on No Man’s Land again for as long as I live.”
EPILOGUE
ALTHOUGH SOME OF the out-of-town guests found it odd, the only place on the reservation large enough to accommodate the Younkin–Spotted Elk wedding party was the consolidated high school. Hundreds of people sat on folding chairs and, when those were filled, crowded onto the bleachers. A preponderance of cowboy boots and rodeo buckles were visible from every angle on one side of the gym, but these were balanced by beaded barrettes and feathered hatbands on the other.
Travis stood at the end of a long aisle, waiting. He fought the urge to unbutton the top button of his shirt. Of course, if he did that, he’d also have to undo the bow tie, and that wouldn’t do.
“You’re going to love her dress,” Mitch said in a quiet voice from behind him. “She’s absolutely stunning.”
Ian made a snorting noise. “You creep me out when you say crap like that.” Robin, standing between Travis and Mitch, began to snicker.
“Shut it and smile,” Travis said. Those two. While Ian and Mitch spent most of their time lobbing verbal grenades at ea
ch other, Travis had noticed that Ian hadn’t beaten Mitch up, and Paulo hadn’t beaten Ian up. If he had to guess, Travis would say they were becoming friends. Ian seemed to take the whole gay thing better than Travis had in the beginning.
Travis looked out at the crowd of people, and a sense of belonging filled him. For so long, he’d had no home, no family to turn to when things got rough. That time was over now. Mitch’s momma sat with Paulo, the older lady dabbing at her eyes while Paulo watched the scene with an interested blankness. Mark Soleus had flown in for the event. Randy, Don—they were all here. Even Red Willis had sent a gift.
On the other side, Leslie Yellow Robe and Susan Spotted Elk sat together, dabbing away the same happy tears. The cowboys Travis worked cattle with filled in the rows behind them. After that came all the high school teachers that June had gotten to know doing part-time subbing while she rehabbed her ankle. Travis couldn’t remember the names of half the people he saw, but he knew they were here for him and June all the same.
The life he’d dreamed about—a nice house, a good job, a good woman to come home to—was his now, all because of June. All that was missing were the kids, and after the next rodeo season, he and June were going to get to work on that.
“Here we go,” said the Preacher as the band director led the band into the song June had picked out. “You ready?”
Travis almost laughed out loud. Ready? He’d been waiting for this day for months. If he’d had his way, he and June would have been at the courthouse the day after he’d given her that ring she loved so much. But June had insisted that she be able to walk down the aisle in real bridal boots, not that Frankenstein thing she’d clunked around in the whole winter. Besides, everyone had insisted a spring wedding would be lovely.
The high school band strained at the “Wedding March,” but then Joseph Yellow Robe and June walked through the doorway, and Travis forgot about the music. He forgot about Mitch and Ian bickering, about the constricting tie, and about how much this whole thing had cost.
All he could think about was how beautiful June looked with that smile on her face. He supposed the dress was, in fact, stunning—strapless so he could see her beautiful shoulders, the ivory material sparkling with bright rhinestones—but all he could see was the light shining in her eyes, the glow on her cheeks.
Later on, after the Preacher had pronounced them husband and wife, after all the different cakes had been cut and passed around, and after they’d handed out gifts for the giveaway to each of the guests—as he’d been informed was a Lakota tradition—after all that, he’d have to remember to tell his rodeo June how beautiful she was.
Looking at her, he knew he wouldn’t forget.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from TO BE A DAD by Kate Kelly.
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Superromance.
You want romance plus a bigger story! Harlequin Superromance stories are filled with powerful relationships that deliver a strong emotional punch and a guaranteed happily ever after.
Enjoy six Harlequin Superromance stories every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
CHAPTER ONE
TERESSA WILDER DEPOSITED her armload of groceries on the kitchen counter and listened to the cadence of her mother’s voice as she read Sarah and Brendon a bedtime story. As a single mom, she didn’t know what she would have done the past six years without her parents’ support. Unfortunately, her mother never let her forget the sacrifices she’d made to help her.
Two children from two different fathers, and now...
She grabbed the small white bag from the pharmacy, slipped down the hall into the bathroom and tucked the bag under a stack of towels. No sense in dropping the P bomb until she knew for sure. Her legs gave out, and she dropped down onto the toilet and covered her face with her hands. Who was she trying to kid? She was a baby-making machine. Hence her six-year-old daughter, Sarah, and three-year-old Brendon. She was probably the only almost-virgin with two kids. She could kiss goodbye her lifelong dream of escaping her hometown and becoming a chef in Paris.
“Teressa?” Her mother tapped on the door. “The children are asleep. Are you all right?”
No, but she would be. She was an expert at sucking it up. “Of course. Be right out.” She flushed the toilet and splashed cold water on her face before returning to the kitchen.
She stopped in the doorway to watch her mother put the groceries away. “Don’t bother with the groceries, Mom. You’ve helped enough for one day. Thanks for looking after Sarah and Brendon.”
She tried to be as independent as possible, paying rent to her parents for the tiny carriage house that hid behind her parents’ big, old family home, and she worked full-time as a cook at the local café. Her café. She may only own a third of it, but having worked there for five years she knew the business better than her other two partners, Sylvie Carson and Adam Hunter.
“You can’t leave chicken at room temperature too long.”
Teressa bit back the retort on the tip of her tongue as her mother stashed the chicken breasts in the refrigerator. Her mother meant well, it was just... She was tired and needed to be alone. And she knew more about chicken than her mother, Sylvie, Adam and the whole damned town.
“Dad’s probably wondering where you are. I’ll put the rest away.”
Her mother, whom she’d for some reason started to think of by her name, Linda, made one of her sounds of disapproval that she so excelled at. “Dad’s asleep in front of the TV by now. That man.” Her mouth twisted into a bitter shape.
“Maybe he should have a checkup. How long has it been since he’s seen a doctor?” Her mother was convinced Teressa’s father was the laziest person in their village, but Teressa worried he was the unhappiest. She hadn’t a clue how to help him, because he’d disappeared behind a wall of silence years ago.
“You know your father and doctors. He’d have to be half-dead before he went to see one. There’s nothing wrong with him that a real job wouldn’t fix.” Linda sniffed her indignation. “Well, if you’re sure you don’t need any more help, I’ll be off.”
Teressa scooted over to the door and held it open. “Thanks again.”
Linda zipped up her fleece. “They’re my grandchildren. Of course I’m going to help. Good night, dear. And don’t stay up too late. You look a little peaked.”
“Good night, Mother.” Teressa let the door swing shut as she went back to the groceries. Did people still use terms like peaked? How about devastated? Bummed out, desperate? Stupid? Yeah, definitely stupid.
What had she been thinking, having wild, totally out-of-control sex with Dusty Carson? God, he was so hot, there were days she could barely stand to be in the same room with him. Unfortunately, he was also irresponsible and immature. As friends they got along great. And as lovers, too. If their one time together was any indication, there were certainly no problems there. But as partners? Okay, maybe once or twice she’d imagined them together, but her daydreams never lasted because she was talking about Dusty. Mr. Party Boy. His head was as far from marriage and responsibility as it could get. She frowned. Strange that she’d never wondered why he avoided serious relationships.
She banged the cupboard door shut at the same time the phone rang. Checking the display to make sure it wasn’t doofus-man, she scooped up the phone. It was Anita Carson, doofus-man’s sister-in-law. Teressa didn’t make friends easily, but Anita, Cal Carson’s wife, was the kind of person who slipped under Teressa’s defenses without her noticing. They were slowly becoming good friends, although they were
polar opposites. Anita was cool, always unfailingly polite and had a husband who would walk over coals to get to her. Teressa blurted out what was on her mind more often than not and was certain there wasn’t a man on earth who would care enough to take on her and her tribe of children.
“Hey,” she croaked into the phone.
“Teressa? Anita here.” Teressa heard the hesitation in Anita’s voice. “Did you pick up the test while you were in town?”
Teressa tucked the phone under her ear and maneuvered a carton of milk into the refrigerator. “Yup.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I just got home. I haven’t had time to take the test.” In the tiny village of Collina, New Brunswick, it was next to impossible to keep a secret, and telling Anita she might be pregnant was the same as telling the entire Carson clan. But a part of her had instinctively known she needed help this time, and it wasn’t likely to come from her mother, so she turned to her new friend for help.
“Would you like me to come over?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She closed her eyes and massaged her right temple. “I guess not. If I’m pregnant, I’m going to be a mess, and if I’m not I’m going to be a mess, only a happy mess.”
Anita was silent for a minute. “I think I should come over. See you in a few minutes.”
Resigned, Teressa finished putting the groceries away and slipped into the kids’ bedroom to check on them. As usual, the sight of them asleep softened her knot of anxiety. They may have started out as “mistakes,” but they were the best mistakes she’d ever made. She picked up Sarah’s rag doll from the floor and tucked it into bed beside her tiny daughter.
Rodeo Dreams Page 26
