Barbara Dunlop: A Cowboy in Manhattan

“Huh?”

“And after that I was planning to propose to you.”

Katrina didn’t understand. What was he saying? He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. “You’re…”

“Moving to New York City?” He nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Turns out I can.”

“But the ranch. Your family. Your new house. Your heritage.”

“I want you to be my family.” He smoothed back her hair. “I love you, Katrina. And I think my mother would love to know she had little ballerina granddaughters going to fine arts school in New York City. I think she would love that a lot.”

“Oh, Reed.” Katrina’s heart swelled. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She couldn’t believe he would do such an amazing thing for her. She pressed herself tighter into his arms. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“That’s good. Because it turns out I can’t wait on this. I’m proposing right now.” He drew back again. “Will you marry me, Katrina?”

She nodded. Then she nodded faster. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Reed. And I’ll learn to ride horses, and I’ll befriend the chickens. And we can spend weekends and holidays in Colorado with our families.”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed her hairline. “I sure wish I had a ring. I shouldn’t be doing this without a ring.”

“There’s a Tiffany’s around the corner,” she teased. Then she paused. “Or we can go to Brooklyn. Would you rather buy a ring in Brooklyn?”

“Sweetheart.” He hugged her tighter. “You can have any ring you want. You can have any thing you want. As long as you’ll stay with me for the rest of my life.”

Katrina stopped in her tracks halfway between the Terrells’ farmhouse and their barn. “I thought you said I could have anything I wanted.”

“You can,” Reed cajoled, taking her hand in his.

She snatched it back. “But I don’t want this. ”

“That’s not the same logic.”

“Close enough.”

“You’ll love her,” said Reed, slipping an arm around Katrina’s shoulders and urging her forward. “She’s twenty-two years old, has raised nine foals. She’s as gentle as a kitten.”

“She’s as big as a house.” Katrina complained, trying to shrink back as they approached the dapple-gray mare tied to the hitching post in front of the corral.

“She’s maybe fifteen hands. Her name’s North Star.”

“Can’t I start with a pony?” Not that Katrina had any desire to get up on a pony, either, but at least it would buy her some time. Maybe she could hide while Reed was looking for a pony.

“You promised you’d try,” he admonished.

“I lied.”

He laughed. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“No offense, Reed. You’re big and strong and capable, and all. But you’re a human being. She’s a horse.”

“And she knows who’s boss.”

“Well, it’s sure not going to be me.”

“Katrina.”

“What?”

“Buck up.”

“That’s your pep talk? ‘Buck up’?” They were drawing closer to the mare by the second. She fought an urge to squeeze her eyes shut.

“I don’t think you want to hear the alternative.”

She wanted to be brave. She really did. Deep down inside, she knew this was an irrational fear. Very few people were killed by horses each year. And those that were tended to be in the rodeo or ride in steeplechases.

But an irrational fear didn’t normally respond to logic, and so she was stuck with it. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Katrina,” he told her firmly. “Quit being such a wuss.”

“You quit yelling at me.”

“I am not yelling.”

North Star snorted and shifted.

“You’re scaring the horse,” Katrina complained.

“So now you care about the horse?”

“Absolutely I care about the horse.”

They’d stopped about five feet away from the hitching post.

“You’ll make her sad if you don’t ride her,” said Reed.

“Nice try.”

“Just look at those big brown eyes.” Reed left Katrina behind and moved around the hitching post to stroke North Star’s neck. “She loves teaching new riders.”

“She does not.”

“Want to bet?” He scratched the mare’s nose, and she gave a couple of long, slow, obviously contented blinks.

Katrina didn’t blame her. Reed did have magic hands.

“I’ve had six-year-olds on her back,” Reed offered in smooth, honey tones. “She’s a mama through and through. She won’t let anything happen to you.”

North Star was gazing at Katrina now. She did look rather gentle. In fact, she looked quite friendly.

“You want to come closer?” asked Reed.

“Not really.” Katrina was tempted, though. When Reed had proposed back in New York, she had told him she’d learn to ride. She wanted to keep that promise. And if she could force herself to get on the horse’s back, it would be one less thing to be embarrassed about while she was in Colorado.

And they were definitely going to spend time in Colorado. Reed had been amazing about offering to move to New York City. The least she could do was try to meet him halfway.

She glanced at him.

His expression had turned loving, one of understanding and patience.

She wiped her damp palms across the front of her blue jeans and took a step forward, then another and another.

When she came up beside Reed, North Star swung her head to look. But her movements were slow and calm, not at all threatening.

“Pat her neck,” Reed suggested. “Firmly, or you’ll tickle her.”

“I don’t want to tickle her.” Katrina reached out. She patted the mare’s neck three times. It was hot and wiry under her touch. A small puff of dust came up.

The horse didn’t move at all.

“She’s all saddled up,” said Reed.

“I’m terrified,” Katrina confessed in a whisper.

“I’ll hold the lead rope. We’ll walk her in the round pen.”

“Inside the pen?” That would be easier.

“Until you’re ready to go out.”

Katrina screwed up her courage. She nodded. “Okay. But only inside the pen.” It had to be safe enough. Surely to goodness, Reed wouldn’t let her die before the wedding.

He kissed the top of her head. “Back here.” He moved. “Put your hand around the saddle horn.”

She reached up to grab the hard protrusion of leather.

“Foot up in the stirrup. I’m going to grab your butt.”

“You’re not allowed to enjoy this,” she warned.

“I’m allowed to enjoy it all I want. Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll give you a boost.”

Katrina braced herself. “One, two, three.” She pulled and Reed lifted, and before she knew it, she was perched on top of North Star. The mare hadn’t moved a muscle.

“See how easy it is?”

Katrina adjusted her seat. “I’m awfully high up here.”

“Put your other foot in the stirrup. And relax. You’re not going anywhere.”

He released the lead rope from the hitching post, and the horse shifted under her. Katrina gave out a little whoop of surprise.

“Go with the motion,” Reed advised. “Don’t fight it. We both know you have good balance.”

Katrina tried to relax. Reed was right. She did have good balance. In that, she was ahead of the game.

He opened the gate to the round pen and led the horse inside. North Star’s gait was slow and smooth beneath Katrina. The horse’s barrel was warm against her legs. Its breathing was somehow soothing. And having Reed close by certainly helped.

He stopped North Star then moved back and released the reins that were looped around the saddle horn. He reached into the back pocket of his worn jeans and produced a pair of small, leather gloves.