A Cowboy in Manhattan

Danielle spoke up. “But you already did that, Reed.”

Reed looked at her. “Already did what?”

“You didn’t kill him. You found another way.” She gave a shrug. “Maybe the tux and the tie rubbed off on you. Because instead of killing Quentin Foster, you outsmarted him. That was very civilized.”

It was Mandy’s turn to step in, and she was fighting a smile. “Honestly, Reed, I can’t see Katrina objecting if you threaten to outsmart any man who hurts her.”

Danielle nodded her agreement.

“It’s not quite as satisfying,” Caleb allowed.

“It was pretty satisfying,” Reed admitted. The only thing he’d regretted was not being able to watch Elizabeth deliver the news to Foster.

“She misses you,” said Danielle, her tone softer, more thoughtful than normal. “I went to see Katrina while I was in New York City. I was trying to figure out if you’d lost your mind. You hadn’t. And she misses you.”

The only time Katrina didn’t miss Reed was while she was performing. Being on stage took all of her concentration and she was thankful that, if only temporarily, the effort blocked him out of her brain. But as soon as the curtain fell, her chest would hollow out again and her stomach would start to ache.

The applause from tonight’s audience had barely died down. She was pacing her way along the hall to her dressing room, and her tears were once again close to the surface. She’d picked up her phone about a hundred times in the last few days, longing to call him and hear the sound of his voice. She wasn’t ready to let him go. Not yet. Not so soon.

She’d concocted all kinds of wild schemes to eke a few more hours out of their brief relationship. Maybe he could come back to the city for a day or a week. Or maybe she could go to Colorado for another visit. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad there, if she was with Reed.

But deep down inside, she knew none of the plans made any real sense. It would still be temporary, and she’d get her heart broken all over again. Reed was like a drug, and her only hope was to go cold turkey.

She made it to the privacy of her dressing room. But before the door could close behind her, Elizabeth appeared.

“Another full house,” she told Katrina, breezing inside, letting the door fall shut, taking one of the two armchairs in the compact room.

Katrina dropped down on the padded bench in front of the lighted mirror, automatically pulling the decorations from her hair.

“That’s great news.” She forced herself to smile, catching Elizabeth in the reflection.

“Have you heard from Reed today?” Elizabeth asked.

Katrina’s fingers fumbled, and she dropped a small jeweled comb. It clattered onto the table and down to the floor.

“From Reed?” she asked stupidly, as she reached down to retrieve it. Could she have misheard? Why was Elizabeth asking about Reed?

“I left a message for him this morning, but he hasn’t gotten back to me. That doesn’t seem like him.”

Katrina picked up the comb, her fingers slightly numb, mind scrambling to find some logic in Elizabeth’s words. “You left Reed a message?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Just some more paperwork we need to sign. Danielle couriered it over, but I’m not clear on some of the tax sections.”

Katrina blinked at Elizabeth. “Tax sections?” she parroted. What on earth would Elizabeth have to do with Reed’s taxes? Or what would Reed have to do with Elizabeth’s taxes? And what was Danielle doing in the middle of it?

Katrina knew she couldn’t let herself be jealous, but she simply couldn’t help it. She wanted to be the person Reed called. It wasn’t fair that it was Elizabeth and Danielle.

“Just details,” Elizabeth said brightly, coming to her feet and putting her hand on the doorknob. “If he calls, can you make sure he has my cell number?”

“Certainly.” Not that Reed would call. For a wild moment, Katrina thought of using this as an excuse to call him. But she dismissed the idea. It would be so transparent.

“So you met Danielle?” she asked Elizabeth.

Elizabeth laughed lightly. “We’ve been talking every day. Ten million dollars needs a lot of babysitting.”

“Ten million dollars?”

Elizabeth stilled. Her expression faltered. Her hand dropped from the knob, and she stared at Katrina. “You don’t know?”

Katrina didn’t answer.

“How can you not know? Have you talked to Reed?”

Katrina swallowed a lump. “Not in a few days. We, well, we left things on bad terms after the gala.”

Elizabeth sat back down in the chair, her hands going limp. “The gala? You haven’t talked to him since the gala?”

“No,” Katrina replied.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Elizabeth?” Katrina tried to tamp down her anxiety.

“Before he left New York. Before… Reed set up an endowment named the Sasha Terrell Fund. It’s for us. It’s for Liberty. It’s ten million dollars.”

The breath whooshed out of Katrina’s body.

“His only stipulation,” Elizabeth continued, “was that we kick Quentin Foster off the board and out of the organization forever.”

“What?”

“I thought…” Elizabeth gave a helpless laugh. “I assumed. I mean, a man doesn’t do something like that for just anyone. And after his performance at the gala. Well, if a man stepped up for me the way Reed stepped up for you…”

Katrina’s hands started to shake. What had Reed done? Why had he done it?

“I was embarrassed,” she confessed in a small voice. “At the gala. I was mortified by his behavior. I told him to leave, to get out of the city. I told him to go back to his sawdust-covered honky-tonks where he could make a point with his fists.”

Elizabeth’s jaw dropped open.

Katrina’s stomach churned.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I, uh, guess he did this instead.”

“What was he thinking?”

Elizabeth cocked her head sideways. “I guess he was thinking he wanted to protect you. And he didn’t appear to care what it cost him.”

Guilt washed over Katrina. Ten million dollars? He’d spent ten million dollars? “Who does that, Elizabeth? Who does something like that?”

“Apparently, cowboys from Colorado.”

“I hate Colorado.” But Katrina was blinking back tears. “Okay, I don’t exactly hate it. But I don’t want to live there.”

“Reed’s there,” Elizabeth offered softly.

“I love Reed,” Katrina admitted her worst fear out loud. “I love Reed. But my life is here.”

Elizabeth moved to the bench, tucking in beside Katrina and taking her hand.

“I need to apologize.”

Elizabeth squeezed. “I hate to ask this. It seems terribly insensitive. But is there any chance you could do it by phone?”

Katrina gave a watery laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“We’ve got sold-out performances for four more nights running.”