Free Kentucky Rain by Jan Scarbrough Page B

already sleeping with Jerry during freshman year. She had betrayed Scott, and he didn’t know it. Was she worthy of his trust now?
    Her heart shuddered. She lifted her gaze to find him staring at her. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
    “You can,” he said softly. “You can do whatever you put your mind to.”
    “But why me?”
    “Because I need it done,” he replied. “And because I think you need to do it.”
    She blinked, her heart beating out of rhythm. “I don’t understand.”
    “That’s okay.” Head tilted, a slight smile on his lips, Scott gave her the key to his apartment. “Take this. You’ll need it, too.”
    They exchanged long looks as she accepted the key. She trembled inside. Could he guess? Why was he being so kind after what she’d done to him?
    She ducked her head. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”
    “I know you will.” His voice was deep and confident.
    When she raised her gaze, she wondered if he was going to kiss her.
    He didn’t, of course.
    Instead, he told her he had to get to work, eyeing the pile of papers on his desk. Kate got the message and left him alone, letting herself out the front door.
    Back home in her own study, she did a Google search on the Internet, looking for ways to decorate a bachelor pad. She called and engaged the painter for Monday morning. Scott’s pale apartment walls needed color, but Kate had no clue what color to use. That would depend upon the focal point she found for the room.
    But she couldn’t find anything on the Internet. So she spent the rest of her morning and early afternoon scrubbing her bathrooms and vacuuming her floors. Housecleaning was always a good outlet for pent-up energy. Then she picked up Reagan early from camp, bringing along a pair of shorts and sandals for her daughter to wear.
    Reagan’s eyes lit with anticipation. “Where are we going?”
    “We’re going on a hunting expedition,” Kate explained. “We’re going shopping.”
    They ended up in Midway, a small college town right smack dab in the middle of thoroughbred country. Legendary horse farms flanked the town, where famous studs bred the next Kentucky Derby winners and well-known race mares spent leisurely days grazing and caring for their prize foals.
    “What are we looking for?” Reagan asked as they entered the first antique store.
    Kate shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope I know it when I see it.”
    They strolled through three stores before entering the last one on the block. It was filled with equine art. Horses, mainly thoroughbreds, were depicted in prints, watercolors, oils and modern photos. Most were framed. All were expensive.
    “Look, Mommy!” Reagan said with excitement. “That’s a pretty horse!”
    “They’re all gorgeous.” Kate acknowledged as her mind raced with inspiration. Scott liked to ride. Why not pick out a painting of a horse and make it the focal-point of his room? Then the colors would fall into order, and she could select window treatments and bedding from there.
    But which one should she choose? She didn’t know anything about paintings, let alone about ones with horses.
    “May I help you?”
    Kate turned to the young clerk who came up beside her. “I’ve been asked to decorate a man’s room.” She couldn’t bring herself to say “bedroom.”
    “Are you thinking about buying a painting?”
    “Well, yes, but I don’t know what to select,” Kate said. “And I don’t want to blow my budget on it.”
    What if Scott hated her idea? The fear of failure was her ever-present phantom.
    “Have you thought about using ‘sporting art’? We have quite a collection of prints over here.”
    “I don’t know what that is.” Kate followed the clerk to another corner of the shop.
    “You said it’s for a man. Well, there’s nothing that speaks more of country gentlemen than a nice piece of sporting art.”
    Kate received a quick education. Sporting art had its roots in the early eighteenth century when British noblemen