Amazed by You (Riding Tall Book 11)

by Cheyenne McCray

  He stared out the open window, remembering that night so many years ago when he’d nearly destroyed a little girl’s hopes and dreams. Her parents hadn’t known what to do with the miserable sniveling brat. That had been one hell of a treat for him to see.

  A disgruntled employee. He had nearly laughed his ass off when that theory came out in the local paper. The Northlands still had disgruntled employees coming out their asses.

  He was far more than a disgruntled employee. This was all about revenge.

  And it would be sweeter than anyone could possibly imagine.

  Chapter 6

  Water swirled around her, catching her up and dragging her away. A bolt of lightning ripped apart the sky. Thunder crashed, the sound reverberating straight through her.

  Faster and faster she sped down the arroyo. The flood roared in her ears. Water rose higher and higher. Massive waves crashed against the shore.

  Rain whipped her face and wind chilled her through.

  The current carried her farther and faster than before. In the distance, she caught sight of a giant whirlpool, like water circling a drain. Debris spun downward and vanished.

  The flood swept her faster, straight for the funnel disappearing into the bottom of the water.

  Celine woke in a rush, as if shot down a tunnel of light. She gasped and opened her eyes.

  Sunlight from a nearby window was too bright and her eyes ached. She grasped the covers and pulled them over her head.

  The white sheets and comforter muted the light. She let herself breathe slowly as she tried to piece things together.

  The sheets and comforter smelled good—and they smelled familiar. Like a man. Not just any man…

  Jayson?

  She lowered the covers and blinked against the bright light then scooted up in bed. Her entire body ached, as if she’d been pummeled in a boxing ring. Maybe worse. She felt like a limp noodle that needed more sleep as she rested her back against the pillows while she took in her surroundings.

  A masculine room, filled with chunky rustic oak furniture. The cushions and coverings were in rust, gold, and brown color combinations.

  Definitely a man’s room. A couple of cowboy pen and ink drawings mixed with three oils; a few pictures of what she assumed were family members and maybe close friends; and an open closet filled with western shirts and several pairs of boots on the floor.

  Jayson McBride’s room.

  Thoughts, feelings, and images rushed back to her, mixed with her dream. She had to sort through them to determine what was real.

  What she came up with were horrifying memories.

  The wall of water slamming into her car. The brutality of being thrown around, battered, and nearly drowned in floodwater. The terror she’d felt had been unlike anything she’d experienced in her life.

  She shook her head then regretted it when a sharp pain shot through her skull. Something hard had struck her when she was in the water, like a log.

  And then Jayson had saved her. She’d been weakening, afraid she wouldn’t make it. Then he was there, throwing her a lifeline.

  She needed to find Jayson. She climbed out of the bed, her body protesting with every movement she made. One sharp pain dug into her skull via the back of her head. A second felt like someone had jabbed a knitting needle into her forehead.

  “Tylenol,” she muttered as she got to her feet. “Anything.”

  She wore a large men’s robe and realized she was naked beneath it. She wasn’t sure how that had happened, but considering she’d been in filthy water in a flashflood, she was happy to be clean and in whatever he had available.

  A movement startled her. She glanced to the right and saw Thor looking at her. How had she missed him?

  “Hi, boy.” She held out her hand.

  He wagged his tail and went to her, and let her rub him behind the ears.

  “You helped save me.” She got down on her knees, wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him. “Thank you.”

  Celine drew away and Thor licked her cheek. She smiled.

  With Thor at her heels, she left the room and wandered down the same hallway she’d been in before. The smell of coffee hit her full in the face.

  Coffee. Lifeblood.

  The stuff that kept others alive. Around her.

  She padded along cool tile as she followed the smell and remembered the way to the kitchen.

  She reached the doorway and saw Jayson with his hip against a counter as he looked at a paper in one hand and held a steaming mug in his other. And next to him—

  “Is that a Keurig?” Her eyes widened as she walked into the room. “You gave me stuff that’ll make my voice turn baritone, and you have a Keurig?”

  He looked up from the paper, amusement in his eyes. “Would you like a cup?”

  “God, yes.” She moved closer as he pulled a rack of coffee pods out of the pantry. “Sumatra or French Roast if you have it. Black.”

  “Right here.” He pulled out a pod and proceeded to make her a mug of Heaven.

  While she waited, she scratched Thor behind his ears. When the coffee was ready, she took it from Jayson and breathed deeply before taking a sip.

  “Thank you.” She sagged against the countertop. “The world thanks you.”

  Jayson grinned.

  After a few more sips she eyed him. “If you have a coffee maker with gourmet brands, why in the world did you give me cowboy coffee?”

  He snorted. “Wasn’t too sure if I liked you yet.”

  She stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “Can’t say I blame you.” She put her hand to her head. “Ouch. Laughter isn’t always the best medicine.”

  Jayson quieted and let his gaze drift over her. Not in a sexual way, but in an assessing manner. “How do you feel?”

  Celine finished taking a sip and raised her head. “Alive. Thank you.” She held the mug in both hands. “And that has nothing to do with the coffee.”

  “You’re welcome.” He brushed his thumb over her forehead, surprisingly feather-soft. “Damn, woman. You’ve got bruises everywhere. You’re going to be as sore as a bull rider after a hard ride.”

  “It’s true, I’m sore.” She smiled. “I’ll take your word on the bull rider part.”

  “It’s one thing you don’t want to try just to see how it feels.” He shook his head. “Cousin of mine, Creed, is a world champion bull rider. I used to compete with him on the local level. Good times.”

  Jayson shook his head and laughed as he went on. “I guess if you can call three cracked ribs, a shattered wrist, a couple of broken bones, and being gored by a bull good times.”

  Celine tipped her head to the side and studied him. “I’d say in your case, yes, those were good times.”

  “And you’d be right.” Jayson made himself another mug of coffee. “Then I headed off to the service for a few years and Creed pursued his passion.”

  Jayson shook his head. “Now he’s settled down. Wife is Danica—sweetest gal from the southeastern part of the state. They have kids and I’ve never seen Creed so happy.” Jayson grinned. “Would never have thought he’d stop the circuit and take on the role of daddy and husband. Guess you had to have known him back then.”

  “We all change.” Celine set her empty mug on the countertop. She had no idea where the contents went. “Tell me about the service.”

  “First, do you want breakfast?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Maybe something light. My stomach is a little off kilter.”

  “Oatmeal?” he asked. “Butter and brown sugar?”

  “I haven’t had that in years.” She nodded. “Sounds perfect.” She gestured to the coffee maker. “Along with another one of those.”

  He moved to the open door of a large pantry. “Help yourself while I make breakfast.”

  She picked out a pod of Sumatra and had another steaming mug in her hands in no time. She found napkins and spoons, along with a jar of brown sugar, a container of real butter, and a package of walnut
s.

  Jayson served the oatmeal and they doctored it up. Celine wasn’t sure when she’d had a better-tasting breakfast. Could be it was so wonderful, because she was alive to eat it? If it wasn’t for Jayson, she might not be here.

  She had eaten most of her breakfast before she managed to get words out again. “Tell me about your time in the service.”

  “I served in the Marine Corps and was a Harrier II pilot,” he said. “Was in VMF 214 stationed in Yuma. We were known as the Black Sheep.”

  He went on, “I served and toured six years in Japan and was on the U.S.S. Tarawa.”

  When he’d given her the brief rundown of his background, he asked, “So, what about you? I know about your career, but not a whole lot more.”

  She hesitated, not really wanting to talk about herself, but what the hell. “I am an only child, born with a silver spoon in my mouth.” She shrugged. “Mother is an only child, as is Father, so I don’t have uncles and cousins. Just nannies and tutors, and one motherly cook. Not much more than that to tell.”

  “Did you ever go to public or private school?” he asked.

  “My last four years were spent in a private school with girls who made me want to claw out my own eyes.” Celine grimaced. “I had never seen so many vain, selfish, self-important girls in my life.” She shook her head and laughed. “Myself excluded.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I had never been around other children,” she said. “My parents frowned on people bringing over young kids.” She hadn’t thought about those years for some time now. “I pretty much lived in a museum of things they had collected. They probably thought of me as something they’d collected, but they didn’t have the option to get rid of me. I couldn’t touch anything and it was a cold, sterile environment.”

  She sighed and continued. “My parents had cocktail parties and banished me to my room. They didn’t want me anywhere around, unless it was to use me as window dressing. When I was young, they would have my current nanny put me in a pretty outfit and have her make sure my curls were perfect. When they had a client with children, they brought me out to show off what great parents they were. Not because they actually cared about me.”

  She stared at her mug as images whirled through her mind. “As I grew older, it became based on my accomplishments. I still had to look exceptional, with perfect clothing and perfect hair, and I was required to have perfect manners. I also had to have perfect grades, shoot perfectly in both archery and with a rifle, and—” She almost said ride perfectly, but managed to stop herself in time. “That is not the world I would raise a child in. I wouldn’t know what to do with a child if you had one here. I would just have no clue.”

  “Would you want kids if the circumstances were different?” he asked.

  She thought about it as she looked up at him. “I don’t know that I’d make a good mother. How could I if I don’t know the slightest thing about little beings that are entirely dependent on the parent or caregiver? I’ve never even had a puppy or a kitten.” She shook her head. “And I refuse to let tutors and nannies do the job for me. So, I guess the answer is no.”

  Celine shifted in her chair and finished her oatmeal. She really didn’t want to talk anymore about her childhood or having children of her own. She’d decided long ago that she wasn’t going to bring children into a world that considers a child to be window dressing.

  Before she could change the topic from her life, Jayson asked, “What do your parents do now?”

  “Whatever they feel like,” Celine said. “They’re incredibly wealthy, they’re retired, and they travel the world. I see them at an occasional holiday or they pop in and visit me in New York if they happen to be in the city. I think it’s more of a duty to them, than because they want to.”

  Saying the words hurt more than she ever thought they would. They seemed to wrap around her glass heart, squeezing until she thought it might shatter.

  Her eyes ached as if she might cry.

  She never cried. Why would she now?

  Maybe it was the stabbing sensation in her head, the exhaustion from the ordeal…yes, that must have weakened her enough to get to this point.

  She was a strong woman, and she didn’t lean on men. She didn’t lean on anyone.

  But she was now…

  Yes, definitely had to be the exhaustion and the ordeal.

  “Do you have any pain killers?” She folded her hands on the tabletop. Strangely they were shaking. “Nothing strong, just enough to take the edge off the pain.”

  “I’ll get you some ibuprofen.” He got up from the table. “I should have asked when you came in.”

  He wasn’t gone long, but it was enough that she had time to repair the breach in her composure. She hadn’t realized it had cracked as much as it had.

  When Jayson returned, he gave her two tablets and a glass of water, and sat facing her again.

  Celine popped the tablets, chased them down with the water, then cleared her throat. “To be honest, I never faced the fact that my parents’ failure to be good parents hurt as much as it does. I’ve made a lot of excuses for them, but ultimately, they really sucked as parents.”

  Before he could ask her more, she pressed forward. “Tell me about yours. Do you have pictures?”

  “Sure, I’ve got pictures.” Jayson pushed aside his coffee mug, then got to his feet. “Come into the family room.”

  She eased out of her chair, wincing from her sore muscles and bruises, and walked with him out of the kitchen and into a room filled with brown leather, roughhewn furniture, and art similar to that in his bedroom.

  “My family isn’t perfect, but they’re good folks.” He appeared to be thinking on his word choice as he walked to a large stone fireplace at one end of the room. “My family wasn’t particularly well off, but we did okay. Better as we grew older.”

  They reached the fireplace and he gestured to a picture of himself, an older couple, and three younger men who looked a lot like Jayson, and a young woman. “This picture is from a year ago at Christmas.” He pointed out the older couple. “My parents, Gus and Lissa.” He indicated a man who looked a lot like him. “My fraternal twin brother, Jack, and my two younger brothers, Justice and James. The baby is our sister, Bailey.”

  Celine smiled. “Bailey isn’t such a baby.”

  He shook his head and grinned. “Unfortunately, no. We have to keep the shotguns loaded.”

  “Poor girl.” Celine laughed. “She doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “Pretty much,” he said with a grin.

  “Sounds like you have the total opposite of my upbringing.” Celeste caressed the side of the portrait. “To be honest, I envy you.”

  “I consider myself fortunate,” he said. “The McBrides are all over this county and in Prescott in particular. Our upbringings couldn’t be more different. Giant Easter egg hunts for the kids and tag football for the adults. Crazy Halloween parties and big Christmases.”

  He shook his head and gave a half-smile. “The McBrides do everything big around here.” He nodded to more pictures on the mantel and on an old-fashioned upright piano. “Lots of ranchers, rodeo stars, the sheriff, a police officer, a detective, a private investigator, and a firefighter. And we’ve got babies and kids coming out our ears.”

  The image made her smile. Still, she shook her head, not able to picture herself in his situation, living a life like his. “I can’t imagine having a family on that scale. I didn’t even have grandparents around, much less siblings and cousins.”

  “There are some feuds here and there, some arguments pop up now and then, and we have the usual kinds of things families go through,” he said. “But in the end, we’re family.”

  “I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I had one.” She shook her head. “Poor little rich girl, right?”

  He settled his hand on her shoulder. “Everyone deserves a family who cares for and loves them, blood or no. Parents who are there for them every step of their childhood. Not
living in a museum, raised by other people, and used as window dressing. You deserved better.”

  She needed to turn attention away from herself. She moved to the upright piano.

  “Bull riding, huh?” Celine bent to look at one of the framed photos on the piano. “You had a death wish?”

  Jayson grinned. “My first rodeo was at the county fair, a hell of a long time ago. My cousin Creed dared me.”

  “You mentioned him.” Celine gave him an amused look. “So, he was the instigator?”

  “Can’t say he had to push me.” Jayson had a spark in his eye of amusement. “We both got cocky after sneaking into a popular, crowded saloon and not doing so bad on the mechanical bull. We were kicked out, but not until we’d each had a good ride.”

  “And when you got on a real bull at the fair?” Celine’s lips tipped at the corners. “I suppose you were a natural?”

  He snorted out a laugh. “Landed on my ass in the first second and broke my arm. Damned lucky the rodeo clowns got that bull off me or I’d have had more than that as a souvenir.”

  She winced. “I can’t believe that didn’t scare you off.”

  He shook his head. “Hell, no. I caught the bug and I caught it bad. Went on to compete for another six years.”

  “Yikes.” She blew out her breath. “And all those broken bones you so proudly told me about earlier.” She glanced at a photo of another man on the back of a bull. “Is that your cousin?”

  “Yep.” Jayson gave a quick nod. “Creed went on to become world champion a few times over.”

  “And you?” She folded her arms and leaned her hip against the piano. “Did you go far?”

  “Nah.” Jayson shook his head. “Had a good run, but Creed excelled in every way you could think of. Poetry in motion on the back of a bull.”

  “Not exactly what comes to mind when I think of poetry.” She shifted her hip. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Jayson nodded at the photo she had first pointed out. “Some of the best years of my life were spent in rodeo arenas at county fairs.” His expression went thoughtful, his gaze somewhere else. “I can still hear the crowd, smell the carnival scents mixed with manure. Colorful flags flapping and snapping in the breeze. Music pounding in between each ride before the next bull and rider are in the chute…”