Rodeo Regrets

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter

  “We love each other and I plan to marry her.”

  “I’m glad. Natalie deserves something real based on love for a change. Lord knows, I treated her wrong.” Wyatt offered his hand.

  Lane clasped it. “I’m glad you let her come clean with Hannah, that you’re letting Nat see her more often.”

  “Out of the mistake me and Natalie were, we got Hannah. We have to do right by her. Maybe the good Lord knew it would take something as big as parenthood to straighten us out.”

  “She’s a special little girl. Takes after Natalie.”

  “True. Truth be told, I was a bigger mess than Natalie was, way back when. God definitely worked a miracle with me. Who’d have ever thought I’d talk Natalie out of an abortion and raise Hannah myself?”

  The air went out of Lane’s lungs. Abortion? Natalie had wanted to abort Hannah?

  “Don’t know what to do about the rumor, but I’m glad you’re treating her right.” Wyatt clapped him on the back. “I better get going. Got a bull to ride in a few.”

  Lane leaned against the wall as if someone had sucker punched him.

  * * *

  Natalie’s gaze never left Lane as he worked the arena. The buzzer sounded and he scooped a rider safely to the ground, then herded the bronc to the gate and faded into the background. The ghost of the arena. Many spectators didn’t notice pickup men, since the rider took center stage.

  The next bronc bucked into the arena, and Lane went on alert. As soon as the buzzer sounded, he moved in for the rescue. The cowboy yanked with both hands as his boot caught in the stirrup. Natalie cringed. If he fell, the horse would drag him.

  The other pickup man crowded the bronc to slow it, while Lane loosed the rider. The cowboy landed on his feet and limped from the arena as Lane corralled the bronc to the gate. Her camera crew got it all. This was much better than a staged shoot.

  “Next up, bull riding.” Quinn Remington’s voice echoed through the arena.

  A red Brahman bull careened out of the chute with Wyatt astride. The hump-necked bull spun, lurched and changed direction, but Wyatt stayed on. He’d probably win tonight’s event and the title this year. Though Saturday-night rodeos at the Stockyards weren’t sanctioned for the Horizon Series road to the championship, it was work for Wyatt with a nice purse at the end of the evening.

  The buzzer sounded and Wyatt tumbled off. The bull whirled around to charge him. Stetson, in full bullfighting gear, cut in front of the Brahman as Lane lassoed the bull and tugged the beast toward the gate.

  Wyatt climbed the fence and leaped out of the arena. She’d never really thought about his safety before. But this was Hannah’s father. Hannah needed him. Thank You, God, for bullfighters and pickup men. Thank You, God, for Lane.

  Her heart warmed. Surely he’d understand the mistake she’d almost made. They loved each other, and their future looked bright. Would he ask her to marry him?

  The final round of bulls wrapped up. Happily ever after with Lane. Maybe even a baby. One she and Lane would raise. A sibling for Hannah.

  Natalie stood and descended to the walkway around the arena toward the gate where staff exited as Quinn made final announcements and closed out the rodeo.

  Eager to see Lane, she tapped her foot to the twangy music blaring from the speakers. The bullfighters exited, and the judges, and finally she caught a glimpse of Lane. Frowning.

  Was he still upset about her camera crew? He saw her and his steps stalled for a second. Then he stalked toward her, anger brewing in his gaze and the taut lines of his jerky movements.

  What was wrong with him? He was certainly upset about something.

  “Ready to follow me home, cowboy?” She held her hands up in an innocent gesture. “I totally didn’t mean anything by that. I thought we could sit on the porch, under the stars, and talk. Just talk.”

  He kept frowning.

  “Lane?” She touched his arm.

  He jerked away from her. “I guess now you’re gonna tell me?” His words came out in a harsh whisper.

  “Tell you what?”

  “That you wanted to kill Hannah. That’s what.”

  Chapter 12

  Natalie’s world shifted sideways. Her stomach lurched. “Who told you that?”

  “Wyatt.” Lane’s green eyes blazed. “And I think he’d know the truth. Unlike me.”

  “Wyatt?” They’d been getting along well. Why would he hurt her like this?

  “He thought I knew. We were just talking. He was actually bragging on you for not doing it.” His laugh held a hollow, sarcastic ring.

  She ran a finger across his cheek. “I was going to tell you. Tonight. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  He batted her hand away. “It’s a little late, don’t you think?”

  “Let me explain. Please.”

  “Save it.” He stalked away.

  Natalie watched him go, though everything in her wanted to jump on his back and hang on for dear life.

  But hanging on to Lane wouldn’t do any good. She’d lost him.

  Her legs threatened to buckle, but she managed to make it out the exit and to her car. She didn’t scan the parking lot for Lane, but jammed her key in the ignition and revved the engine. Horns blared as she cut into traffic without waiting her turn.

  Natalie drove blindly with tears streaming down her face. She’d go back to her apartment in Garland. Away from Lane. But she couldn’t. Hannah was in Denton, only fifteen minutes away. And Wyatt might move her to Aubrey. She couldn’t tell Hannah she was her mother and then move an hour away. She couldn’t let Hannah down. Again.

  A horn blared. She jammed her brake, barely missing a car’s fender as it shot across the intersection in front of her.

  “What are you doing?” she shouted at the car.

  Wait a minute—did she just run a red light? Natalie turned into a gas station, pulled around beside the quick mart and laid her head on the steering wheel.

  A sob rose within her. She had to stay close to Hannah. No matter what it did to her heart. Maybe she’d move to Denton. That would get her away from Lane. Since she’d finalized her publicity plan, she could work from home now. And never see Lane Gray again.

  A knock on glass sounded beside her. She jumped.

  Kendra stood outside her window.

  With shaky fingers, Natalie pushed every button she could find until the window finally slid down.

  “Are you okay? You ran that red light.”

  “I know.”

  “What’s wrong? Maybe you shouldn’t be driving.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Obviously you’re not. Did something happen tonight?”

  “I almost had it.”

  “What?”

  “A happily ever after. With Lane.” Her voice cracked. “I’d forgotten I ever wanted a happily ever after.”

  “Y’all had a fight.”

  “It’s over.”

  “Maybe not. I thought it was over with Stetson once, and look at us now.”

  “No, it’s over. Trust me. But, I’m okay. Y’all go on home.”

  “I’m not letting you drive yourself home. You’re in no shape. Scoot over. I’ll drive you. Stetson can pick me up at your place.”

  In her short friendship with Kendra, Natalie had learned enough to know it wouldn’t do any good to argue. She climbed over the console and into the passenger’s seat. “You’re a good friend.”

  “Definitely. You have no idea what it’s like for a rapidly growing, six-months-along pregnant lady to fold herself into a sports car.” Kendra settled into the car and raised the steering wheel away from her swollen abdomen.

  Natalie laughed, but it turned into tears.

  * * *

  Sunday morning alread
y. Lane leaned against the tree in his backyard. The little stake cross stood tall with a recent fresh coat of paint.

  After he’d finally told Brother Timothy about his former girlfriend’s abortion, the pastor suggested he set up a monument to help him heal. Lane didn’t know about healing, but it seemed like the place to go when life took a rough turn.

  Natalie hadn’t lost custody of Hannah. She hadn’t wanted her. Had almost killed her. Why hadn’t he seen the truth?

  Because Natalie hadn’t told him.

  He kicked at the gravel and sent it flying across the yard. The bitterness and grief he’d felt toward his former girlfriend wound around his anger toward Natalie, smothering Christian thoughts of forgiveness. He probably shouldn’t go to church. Definitely not in the mood. But in the past, he’d realized that when he didn’t want to go—that’s when he needed to most.

  Lane stalked around the house to his truck, got in and started the engine. “Rock of Ages,” the classic hymn, played on the radio. His churning soul settled. Yes, he definitely needed to be in church.

  He passed Natalie’s drive. Would she be in church today? Maybe he did need to find a new one.

  A few miles later, he turned into the church parking lot. No sign of her blue Challenger. And she’d mentioned attending Sunday school soon. Though he dreaded seeing her, he’d hate for her to drop out of church because of him.

  Just in time for class, he strolled through the sanctuary to his regular pew and claimed his seat beside Stetson.

  Kendra leaned forward. “Natalie’s going with her mom and dad to their church,” she whispered. “I don’t know what happened with y’all, but she nearly killed herself running a red light last night.”

  His heart lurched. “Is she okay?”

  “Physically—yes. Thank God she didn’t wreck.”

  Lane didn’t respond.

  “Y’all need to get over yourselves and get together.”

  “Kendra.” Stetson’s tone cautioned.

  “Just saying. I mean it’s obvious they’re in love. And people who are in love should be together. Not apart and miserable.” She shrugged. “But don’t mind me. What do I know about happily ever after?”

  The pianist began playing and a deacon stood to give the devotion.

  Lane didn’t hear any of it. He had to stop thinking about Natalie. No distractions. Focus on God and decide if he was crazy for thinking about the associate thing.

  A prayer closed the devotion and the congregation scattered to their classes. Lane headed to the office. The door was open. Brother Timothy sat at his desk.

  Lane tapped on the door frame. “You got a minute?”

  “Sure. Come in.”

  He closed the door since he preferred that no one overheard.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Several things. One, I’m not sure I should have joined this church.”

  “Why?”

  “Natalie Wentworth and I were sort of seeing each other. It’s over between us now, and I’m afraid she’ll stop coming.”

  “Let’s see—you’re a member and she’s not.” Brother Timothy propped his elbows on the desk. “She goes with her mom and dad some, so maybe she’ll go there, instead. Are you happy here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then wait and see. As long as Natalie goes somewhere, I don’t think you need to leave. And she might not come here, whether you’re here or not. What else?”

  “The associate pastor thing.”

  “You have a recommendation?”

  “I was thinking about going to seminary.”

  “Ah.” Brother Timothy nodded. “That feeling you needed to do something?”

  “Yes, I think God’s tugging at me to preach.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “But I’m not sure.”

  “Because?” Brother Timothy steepled his fingers.

  “My past.”

  “We all have things in our pasts.”

  “I told you about my girlfriend having an abortion. There were several other women besides her, but none of them ever got pregnant.”

  “Do you believe when you accepted Christ as your savior, He forgave your sins?”

  “Yes.”

  “Part of accepting His forgiveness is forgiving yourself. His blood wiped your slate clean.”

  Forgiving myself? Brother Timothy’s sermon from last Sunday. He’d heard it, but it hadn’t sunk in. Maybe prayer time would help him embrace his clean slate.

  “I think if you feel the call to be an associate pastor, you should answer that call. And your past could be a great testimony of the work God has done in you.”

  “I hadn’t looked at it that way. I’ll pray about it some more.”

  “I’ll help you in the prayer department.”

  Lane stood and clasped the pastor’s hand. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Keep me posted. On Natalie and your calling.”

  Lane walked out of the office and headed toward his class.

  Natalie. His steps stalled. Her slate had been wiped clean, too. Besides, she’d considered an abortion, but she hadn’t gone through with it. And he knew from experience, if she’d really wanted to, she could have done it without ever telling Wyatt.

  He owed her an apology. Even if he’d hurt her too badly for them to be together now, he owed her an apology.

  “Hey.” Clay stopped beside him. “Skipping class?”

  “I was talking to Brother Timothy.”

  “Kendra was feeling sick, so I brought the truck around for Rayna to drive her home.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Goes with the territory. Rayna was sick a lot when she was pregnant. I don’t know how women do it.”

  “Me, neither.” Natalie had given birth to Hannah. Even though she hadn’t really wanted to.

  “By the way, we’re having a trail ride at our place Thursday night if you wanna come.”

  “Will Natalie be there?”

  “She’s on the guest list, but I don’t think Rayna’s invited her yet. Do you want her there?”

  “I do. In fact, if you don’t mind, invite Wyatt, Hannah and Star. That way, she’ll come for sure.”

  “They’re actually on the list, too.”

  “Great. Count me in.” Maybe by then, she’d have cooled off. Maybe she’d accept his apology. Maybe she could still be his.

  If he hadn’t hurt her too badly. Big oaf. He’d homed in on the one thing she probably most regretted in her life and condemned her for it. Without even listening to her side of the story. How could she want anything to do with him?

  But he had to try.

  * * *

  Hannah would be at the trail ride. Natalie grabbed her keys. But Lane might be, too.

  Maybe Kendra had intervened in Rayna’s guest list and Lane wouldn’t be there. But if he was there, could she face him? She had to. Spending time with Hannah would be worth it. And she wouldn’t hide herself away again. Not because of Lane. Not because of anyone.

  She paced the length of her kitchen and dining room.

  But moving to Denton seemed like a good plan. Close to Hannah, farther from Lane. She’d already talked to Star about buying her house. And she’d talk to Wyatt about letting Hannah have her house. He and Star could even live there until Hannah grew up.

  Wyatt living in her dollhouse? She laughed.

  She hurried through the kitchen to the garage, jumped in her car, and started it. Halfway down the drive, she remembered the dress she’d bought Hannah from Caitlyn’s store. Hannah’s favorite color—pink—with lots of ribbons and lace. Hannah would love it.

  Natalie braked. No sense in driving back to the garage. She hopped out of the car and hurried to the front door.
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br />   The dress lay on the kitchen table, right where she’d left it so she wouldn’t forget it. Dress in hand, she stepped outside, locked the door and smoothed the see-through plastic bag over the fabric as she walked to her car.

  A dog. Her feet stalled. A big dog right in front of her car. She dropped her keys.

  The dog didn’t move. No friendly tail wagging. But no growling either. It crouched low. In attack mode.

  The memory surfaced. Long-ago jaws with sharp teeth clamped on her cheek. A chill crept through her.

  Could she get back to the house? She’d locked the front door and she’d have to pick up her keys. The dog would catch up with her before she could get it unlocked. The garage door took a few seconds to slide up. Seconds she didn’t have. She could run to the back fence. But could she get the latch open and the gate shut behind her before the dog caught up with her?

  She took a step backward. The dog took a step toward her and barked.

  A live oak stood two feet to her left with low branches she’d been meaning to have cut. She shot toward the tree, grabbed a limb and dragged herself up. The dog lunged at her from below, barking and snapping near her feet. She climbed to a higher limb.

  “You stupid dog. This is my yard.” Bravery from her perch. Big chicken. She dug her cell phone from her pocket. Daddy would rescue her.

  But the phone was dead. As always, when she really needed it, she’d forgotten to charge it.

  She climbed higher and the dog stopped lunging at her, but it still sat right below her, barking. Rusty chimed in from the backyard.

  Maybe her parents or Caitlyn would hear the racket.

  Just an hour or so of daylight left. The sun painted orange, pink and purple streaks across the sky. The June air was slightly cool. Perfect for the trail ride she wasn’t going to. Would Wyatt wonder about her enough to come and check on her? Kendra would assume she hadn’t shown up for fear that Lane would be there.

  A bead of sweat trickled down the small of her back. How long would the dog stay? Would she have to spend the night in the tree?

  * * *