The Green-Eyed Doll
Page 31
A drop of rain fell and then another. Within a blink of an eye, the sky opened up and poured. As predicted, the drought had come to an end. He and Catherine looked to the sky at the one small thunderhead. She closed her beautiful green eyes, leaned her head back, and let the rain wash over her face.
Ash squatted beside them in the downpour as if this were any ordinary day. He smiled and pulled a patch of grass from Catherine’s wet hair. “How would you like to ride to town in an ambulance?”
“I wouldn’t. I’m fine now.” She opened her eyes and studied Matt’s face. “I knew you’d save me.”
“No, honey. Danny’s dead. You saved yourself.” He removed his rain-soaked shirt and laid it over her chest when she tried to cover her bra with her shredded blouse. Pulling her closer, he let her rest until the EMTs made their way out to them.
“I’ve killed two men,” she said on a sob. Her head buried against his shoulder.
“Both justifiable.” He tipped her chin up, bracketed her face with his hands, and then kissed her. “Remember when I told you I loved you? I meant it. And if you’ll forgive me, I’ll prove it.”
“I love you, too.”
She tried to stand, but her legs wobbled like a newborn foal. When she reached out to him for support, the fear he’d been holding back broke to the surface. Matt waved off the EMTs and scooped her into his arms. She pressed her face into his neck, placed her hand over his heart, and rubbed in a small circle. He thanked the torrential downpour for hiding the tears he couldn’t manage to hold back.
“You walked this far...I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”
Chapter Thirty
Saturday, September 23rd, 11:00 a.m.
“I might as well have gone to the hospital,” Catherine complained when Matt arrived to relieve Emma.
“Thanks for babysitting. I’ll take over from here.”
Emma leaned over and kissed Catherine on the cheek. “She’s all yours, Matt. And she’s not a good patient.”
Catherine eavesdropped while Matt walked Emma to the door and discussed the healing of her feet like they were about to launch a space shuttle. Two weeks had passed, and Catherine was ready to get on with life. If she had to repeat her ordeal one more time, she’d scream. The nightmares would never go away if she didn’t put the episode behind her.
The truth about her life was out for the free world to form their personal judgments. That Matt read the documents in her secret box hadn’t troubled her, but he’d been beating himself up long enough for the judicial system’s failure to protect her.
She’d had two brushes with death and came out a winner both times. Life couldn’t deal her any blows she couldn’t overcome, not as long as Matt loved her. And he’d spent the past two weeks telling her just how much.
“Shame on you for picking on such a sweet old woman.”
Catherine’s breath caught at the sight of him standing in the doorway. His lean, muscular body looked as if an artist sculpted it from granite, and luckily the same guy had carved his face. His broad shoulders, which she was convinced could carry any load, and lopsided grin which melted her with a glance, jetted her hormones south at record speeds.
“Sweet? She’s a drill sergeant in disguise. She insisted I lie down and rest.” Catherine patted the side of the bed. “But since I’m here...”
Matt stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the chest of drawers.
“I can’t come over there. We have to talk.”
“That’s all we’ve done. Police reports and news stories have worn me out. I’ve purged my soul and my past to God and country. I have no more secrets to tell.” She patted the bed again, amazed at how brazen she’d become. “And if you forgive me—”
“You’re not the one who needs forgiveness,” he interrupted. “I turned my back on you when you needed me. Will you ever be able to trust me completely?”
His incredibly blue eyes, so serious and so concerned drew her to him. She scooted to the edge of the mattress and held his steady gaze.
“I never stopped trusting you. But we’ve both learned valuable lessons about honesty between two people in love.”
“So if I proposed, would you say yes?” His lips quirked up in a grin, and her heart rate hit the superhighway.
“I have one question before I can answer.”
His face grew serious, and his eyes never left her face. “By all means, ask away.”
“What would John Wayne do?”
“Nothing, he’s dead.” His eyebrows dipped into a scowl. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” She glared back at him.
He stood quietly for a minute. “You mean right now...if he was standing here instead of me?”
“Right now.”
Matt pushed himself upright. His eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Can you wear boots?”
“I’m sure I can. Why?”
“Get dressed.”
****
Saturday, September 23rd, 12:30 p.m.
He was taking one hell of a gamble that his idea would work. Was he supposed to channel the Duke to know what she wanted him to say? His insides were jumping, and his mind raced from thought to thought.
Matt had ushered her to the pickup. The fact she’d limped hadn’t escaped him. Her feet hadn’t healed completely. Had her heart? Only one way to find out.
He drove around the back way to his place. The short trip lasted an eternity, because he felt her eyes bearing down on him all the way. He parked, walked around to her, and scooped her into his arms. He carried her to a chair in the house. “Wait here until I come get you.”
“I can walk, silly.” She demonstrated by walking to the door and letting Benedict Arnold inside. “What am I waiting on?”
Matt’s hand hung at his side, and the dog stuck his muzzle in it so he absentmindedly scratched behind his ears.
Her gaze dropped, followed by her jaw.
“What?”
“Oh. My. God. He likes you.”
“When I thought I’d lost you, he sensed my pain. Been at my heels ever since.” Matt waved Catherine to a kitchen chair. “Remember, wait here. Don’t come outside,” Matt instructed in his firmest voice. “Promise me.”
“Oka-ay.” She arched one eyebrow, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I’m waiting.”
Heart pounding, nerves racing, with Benedict at his side, Matt ran to the barn. Thirty minutes later, he glanced down at the dog. “It’s now or never.”
He stepped into the saddle, rode up the driveway, and called Catherine outside.
Eyes wide, jaw hanging lax. Priceless would describe her expression. But when he handed her the reins to the second horse, tears welled and ran down her cheeks.
“Oh, hell.” Matt slid off his new bay gelding, wrapping Catherine in his arms. “You think I’m nuts. I’ll put them back in the barn.”
“This is your answer to my question?” She smiled up at him and brushed away her tears.
“Well, hell. Wouldn’t John Wayne have put you on a horse and then ridden into the sunset with you at his side.”
She stood on her tiptoes and covered his lips with hers. “That’s exactly what he would’ve done.”
The kiss sealed the deal as far as Matt was concerned. Anything else would be incidental, nothing they couldn’t overcome together.
“What do you think? Want to give him a try?” Matt offered her the reins a second time.
“What’s his name?”
Matt couldn’t help himself. “Horse.”
“You can’t not give him a name.” Her words mingled with her laughter.
“You’re right. His official name’s Poco Red Dawn.”
Without his help, she swung into the saddle. “God. That’s a mouthful.”
“Yeah. It’s Red for short.”
“Red. I like it.”
With a stab of her heels, she and Red broke into a run toward the back pasture. Matt mounted and hurried to catch her.
Catherine slowed, leaned forward, and patted the big gelding on his neck. “I love him. And you.”
Riding side-by-side, Matt turned and asked one last question. “I’d like Ash to be best man at our wedding. You okay with that?”
“As long as you’re there, I’m happy.” Catherine kicked her horse in the flank, and the red gelding lunged forward.
The wildfire-haired woman raced across his pasture on her sorrel horse, her face turned into the wind. She ran free. He’d gladly spend the rest of his life trying to keep up with her.
A word about the author...
A student of creative writing in her youth, Jerrie set aside her passion when life presented her with a John Wayne husband, and two wonderful children. A career in logistics offered her the opportunity to travel to many beautiful locations in America, and she revisits them in her romantic suspense novels.
But the characters went with her, talked to her, and insisted she share their dark, sexy stories with others. She writes alpha males and kick-ass women who weave their way through death and fear to emerge stronger because of, and on occasion in spite of, their love for each other. She likes to torture people, make them suffer, and if they’re strong enough, they live happily ever after.
Jerrie lives in Texas, loves sunshine, children’s laughter, sugar (human and granulated), and researching for her heroes and heroines.
She loves hearing from fans at:
www.jerriealexander.com.
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
The Green-Eyed Doll
Copyright
Praise for Jerrie Alexander
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
A word about the author...
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.