by Leslie North
“Right,” he said with a crooked smile that struck her as somehow sad. “I forgot. You’ve always been good at understanding things, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know,” she said and shrugged, dipping her head so that he wouldn’t see how much the compliment pleased her. “I guess it just makes sense to me. Especially with a place like this.”
They were silent for a moment, taking in the splendor of the McCall land. Her head was overflowing with memories of the two of them, and she was almost painfully tempted to ask him if he felt the same, but she gnawed on her lip and kept quiet. She wasn't interested in making a complete fool of herself at the moment.
“It’s going to be hard, you know?” Carson went on. His next words were jarring. “If we have to let it go.”
"What?" she asked, so startled she almost slid right out of her saddle. She glanced at Devon, but he either wasn't listening or didn't care enough about their conversation to pay attention. She nudged her mare to move up a bit, bringing her even with Carson, and dropped her voice. "What do you mean, let it go? Why would you do that?"
"Because," he said. The abruptness in his voice made her feel queasy. "My parents’ will was unusual, to say the least. My brothers and I were supposed to live here together for a year, barring extenuating circumstances."
"Like getting married and having babies?" Karen asked. She’d meant to sound funny, but her voice was shaking a little, and nobody laughed. She knew where this conversation was going. They’d talked about this when she was eighteen and far less prepared.
"Exactly," Carson answered with a nod, "leaving me to manage things.” He shrugged. “It all works now, while I'm still healing, but as soon as I'm good to go, I'll be heading out on the circuit again. That'll break the terms laid out by the will, and we'll have to sell."
Aghast, she spoke without thinking. “But, Carson—do you really think that’s a good plan? Doing the whole rodeo thing again? You were lucky not to get killed! Wouldn’t you be pushing your luck?”
Karen knew her mistake as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She could see Carson closing himself off. Nothing she said further would make any difference.
In reality, he had every right to react that way. They weren’t together. He didn’t owe her any kind of explanation. If the idea of him going away again made her feel like crying, that was all on her. Part of her wanted to apologize, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it. The memory of how he had left things when they were eighteen seemed to fill her mouth up with sand.
“Anyway, enough about me,” he said after a couple of tense moments, graciously letting her off the hook. “Why don’t we put you in the hot seat? You like kids, right? Ever plan on having any of your own?”
"Maybe," she said, looking straight ahead, careful not to meet his eyes. It was her turn to shut down, and she wasn't nearly as good at it as he was. "We'll see. It’s not something I think about these days."
He nodded and turned his attention to Devon. She let out a pent-up sigh, knowing he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. That was for the best. He still didn’t know about the miscarriage. She had spent all these years keeping the secret after he left, but the pain that never went away tinged any thought of children. She and Carson weren't together anymore, but if she could spare him the pain she’d suffered, she was certainly going to try.
6
Carson wasn't sure what made him come up with the bull riding idea. He was feeling restless, that much he knew, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling restless about. Well, the rodeo—that arena was in his blood, and it wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He wasn't sure if being around the hype and excitement would make him feel better or worse, and he wasn't sure he cared. He only knew that he couldn't stay away.
That wasn't all, though. Truth was, seeing Karen day after day had him so far in his own head, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. It was all too possible that taking Devon and Karen to watch the bull riders was to divert himself more than anything else. He didn't know, and he didn't care. Self-exploration had never been his style.
As he waited on the porch, his heart lifted when Karen’s truck came rolling down the drive. The effect was only magnified when she got out of the truck, hair burning against the backdrop of the chilly day.
"Hey!" she said happily as she hurried around the front of her truck, ready to help Devon out of his seat. "Let me guess. I'm not just late this time—I'm super late.”
“That’s right,” he said, stumbling on the porch steps in his hurry and clenching his jaw to keep from yelping in pain. Every time he thought he was on the mend, or at least making progress, he would move the wrong way and remember that he still had a long way to go.
“Whoa, careful,” Karen said, frowning and abandoning her progress toward Devon’s door to come to his aid. “When are you going to ditch the superhero act?”
“When I’m dead,” Carson grimaced, swallowing the lump of resentment forming in his throat at the reminder of how out of shape he still was. “I’ve gotta learn to walk again, okay? Besides, I’m almost exactly where I need to be.”
“What?” She smiled uncertainly. “What’s going on with you today? You’re acting all weird.”
“Come on now,” Carson said, feigning insult. “Can’t a guy orchestrate a little surprise without being called names?”
“Surprise?” she echoed, offering her arm. He took it, grudgingly, and immediately felt a little better for having her so close. “Seriously, what is this? We have a riding lesson today, don’t we?”
"Nope," he said smugly. "Today, I'm taking the two of you to watch some bull riding."
“Is that so?” she asked, pulling her head back a little and regarding him with raised eyebrows as they moved slowly toward her truck.
“It sure is,” he confirmed with a nod. “And you’re going to drive.”
Everything was working out exactly the way he’d hoped it would as they drove along. Devon was more talkative than usual, and Karen looked borderline giddy. It wasn't exactly what he’d had in mind at the start, but it almost felt as if they were off together on a little family excursion: mom, dad, and kid. Maybe a dangerous way to think of things, a luxury he couldn't afford for long, but that didn't make it any less satisfying.
Things started to get a little dicey when they arrived and got out of the truck. All at once, Devon seemed to shut down completely. The boy was putting one foot in front of the other, but he wasn't engaged in the conversation anymore, not even in a cursory way. And Karen—she was doing a better job of hiding it, but he could tell she was feeling the strain, too. He could see it in her furtive glances at the boy and the two bright spots of color growing on her cheeks.
“What’s going on?” he asked in a low tone, doing his best to shield Devon from the stream of people heading into the arena. “Did I screw up here?”
"No," she said too quickly. "You didn't do anything wrong. This was a lovely gesture, and I’m sure he’ll enjoy it after we get him through this part. He's just...he's not always great with new things, you know?"
“Is that part of it?” Carson asked, the strength of his need to understand catching him off guard. “Is it part of the autism?”
"It is," Karen nodded as they entered the building, her eyes never leaving the top of Devon's head, clasping his hand tightly in hers. It looked to Carson as if the boy was trying to use her as a human shield. He would have picked the poor kid up and carried him to their seats if he’d thought it would help. And if I was healthy enough to, he reminded himself, swallowing down the sour taste creeping up the back of his throat.
“This was stupid,” he muttered, shaking his head, thoroughly disgusted with himself.
"No," she corrected quickly, her eyes pleading. "Not stupid at all. He just gets overwhelmed by new stimuli, and sometimes he's afraid of things he's never experienced before. But it's better if we can help him work through the fear. It's the only way to prepare him to have a real life of his own, somewhe
re down the line."
Carson considered her words for a moment, scanning the crowd of people as if any of them might be a potential threat. He wondered if that was how Devon saw them all and cursed himself under his breath for having thought up this scheme in the first place.
Things improved slightly when they found their seats and settled in, mostly because Carson had sprung for the most expensive section. Not a whole lot of other people were sitting near them.
With Karen’s arm looped protectively around his shoulders, Devon looked almost peaceful again. Still, he was staring fixedly at the seat in front of him as he murmured, “What are we going to see here?” His voice was low and hesitant, hard to hear above the blaring announcements from the sound system and the noise from the crowd in the grandstand seats, and he was rhythmically kicking the back of the empty seat in front of him. “This place is loud.”
“I know it, buddy,” Carson said, propping his cane against the armrest of his chair and angling his body to face Devon more completely, though it made his ribs twinge. “I’m sorry. It’s about to start, though, and I think you’re going to consider this pretty cool once everything gets underway. At least, I hope you will.”
Looking at Karen over the top of Devon's head, he found her nodding approval. Somehow, the look on her face gave him courage he hadn't known he needed. On top of that, he was starting to understand that distracting himself and entertaining Devon weren't his only reasons for taking the three of them on this little outing. He was trying to feel out where Karen currently stood on the whole rodeo thing. She'd never been a fan in the past, but that didn't necessarily mean she still felt the same way. A lot could happen over the span of years.
Stop right there, he scolded himself. He shouldn't be thinking that way, and he knew it.
“They’re here,” Devon said in a strangled voice, pulling Carson’s attention reluctantly away from Karen. Carson saw the boy swallow hard before adding, “What if somebody gets hurt?”
In that instant, Carson realized things weren't okay at all. He’d thought Devon was settling after a pretty standard freak-out, but the poor kid was actually white-knuckling his way through things. Now the boy’s chest was heaving with the effort to pull in enough air, and his eyes were so wide behind the thick lenses of his glasses, they looked as if they would pop right out of his head. Carson had seen new guys on the circuit go through something similar. It looked to him as if Devon was on the verge of a panic attack.
Their surroundings seemed to disappear when he saw the kid’s pain. Even his awareness of Karen faded away, becoming part of the background noise that was causing Devon so much grief.
Carson did his best to get down on the ground in front of the boy, managing to achieve a pathetic half-kneel that he knew he would pay for later on. At the moment, it didn’t matter—he hardly felt the pain. As far as he was concerned, only he and Devon existed in that moment. Even knowing what he did about Devon’s peculiarities regarding touch, he reached slowly to lay his hands on either side of the boy’s face and got as close to making eye contact as he was able.
"Hey, listen," he said, peering into Devon's eyes, totally focused. "You have to know; everything is perfectly fine."
Devon didn't reply. Carson could feel the boy shaking so badly, the whole seat seemed to be vibrating under him. Even more troubling was his breathing, quick, shallow gasps. Almost hyperventilating, and that was something Carson very much wanted to spare him if he was able.
"Hey, kid, listen to me,” Carson said, keeping his voice low, melodic, and calm, the same as he’d use to calm a spooky half-broke horse or a laboring cow. “You don’t have to look at me. You can even shut your eyes if you want to. It might help. Can you do that?”
Seeing no response, not even the faintest acknowledgment that Devon recognized that Carson had spoken, he began to fear the worst. Then Devon nodded, squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and balled his hands into sad little fists.
It wasn't much, but Carson found enough encouragement to continue. “You’re workin’ up a panic attack, buddy,” he said, maintaining that same calm tone. “I should know. I’ve had them myself enough times.”
“Really?” Devon gasped in a clipped, pained voice.
Carson nodded, trying to ignore the feeling of Karen’s eyes on his face. “Really,” he confirmed with a smile. “And getting hold of your breathing makes all the difference. Now take a deep, deep breath in. Count to ten while you do it.” He nodded again, seeing the boy try. “That’s it. Let it out slowly, counting to ten again. You keep right on doing that, concentrating on the breathing and the counting, and before you know it, things will feel better. Let’s try it together, okay?” Devon said nothing. Infusing his voice with as much encouragement as he could, Carson repeated, “Let’s give it a try.”
Devon nodded.
There, in the middle of the excitement of the bull-riding extravaganza, Carson and Devon breathed together. He had no idea how much time was passing, and he didn't care. Nothing mattered except that Devon should feel better.
When the boy finally opened his eyes again, Carson was relieved to see Devon starting to look more like himself again. "Okay?" he asked, leaving his hands in place for a moment longer before righting himself again. His ribs were screaming from the unexpected, unusual movement, but it was worth it. He hadn't done anything this satisfying in a long time, and when Devon nodded, even gave him a weak smile, Carson couldn't help grinning from ear to ear.
“Good,” he nodded back, struggling to get to his feet. “Now, how’s about I go and get the three of us some snacks? I feel like we’ve earned them, don’t you?”
“Uh-uh,” Karen said quickly, bounding to her feet and sliding easily past Devon’s seat. “No way. You’re going to sit right here while I get us as many goodies as I can carry. You just take care of yourself.”
As if to emphasize her point, she put her hands on his shoulders, pressing gently to urge him to sit down. A look of pure gratitude was in her eyes, and before he knew what was happening, she wrapped her arms around his neck, eyes shining, and kissed him.
He’d thought the world had fallen away while he’d been doing his best to help Devon, but that had been nothing compared to this. When Karen's lips found his, it felt as if time stopped. The world could have stopped spinning on its axis, and it wouldn't have mattered. Kissing Karen had always had this effect on him. Somehow he’d forgotten. He was surprised to find that his body still responded to hers so completely, although maybe he shouldn’t have been. Some things simply didn’t change, no matter how much time passed.
“Ugh,” Devon groaned, following the words with an uncomfortable giggle. “Gross. People can see.”
Karen sprang away from Carson. They were both breathing hard, and Carson saw her face had flushed a shockingly deep shade of red. He cleared his throat, wondering how red his own face might be.
“Oh my God,” she stammered, unable to meet either his or Devon’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”
“Come on, Karen,” Carson chuckled, trying to ignore how hard his heart was thumping against his healing ribs. “You don’t need to apologize. I…”
"Seriously," she interrupted, trying to take a step backward and almost toppling over the back of the stadium chair on the row behind her. "I don't know what I was thinking. You're right, Devon, it's super gross and certainly not something other people need to see. I'm off to get those snacks, and when I get back, I promise, no more yuck."
Carson nodded, falling heavily into his seat and staring after Karen as she hurried off. Up until now, he’d thought he had been doing a halfway decent job of keeping himself unentangled. Now, though, all bets were off. Something told him Karen knew it, too.
7
Despite the near fiasco at the bull-riding showcase, life continued to move forward pretty much as normal. Carson asked for a little more information about Devon and how to handle him when he was on the verge of having a meltdown, and Karen happily obl
iged, figuring that the more people Devon had looking out for his best interests, the better.
But Carson never brought up her impromptu kiss. Even thinking about what she had done made her so hot with embarrassment, she felt like passing out. To make matters worse, the memory had a way of creeping into her thoughts whenever and wherever it pleased. One minute, she would be making small talk in the line at the grocery store, and the next, she would feel herself pressed up against Carson's strong, muscular body. It was hard to go about the business of buying broccoli when you could still taste the one and only love of your life on the tip of your tongue.
Still, neither of them mentioned the kiss as the lessons with Devon went on as scheduled. Karen was both surprised and mildly alarmed by how quickly time was moving; almost before she'd had time to catch her breath and adjust to seeing Carson regularly again, his court-mandated sessions with Devon were coming to an end. Even the thought made her sick; she hugged herself tightly as she sat on the bale of hay that had become her perch during lessons. Outwardly, she was watching the lesson, but truth be told, her mind was a million miles away. Then she heard Devon crow with delight.
"What?" she asked. She got to her feet. As she approached the pair, she realized they were both looking at her expectantly. "What's going on, you two? Y'all look a little too mischievous for my peace of mind."
“Nothing,” Carson said, grinning from ear to ear and looking down at Devon’s face expectantly. “I was just telling young master Devon here that for our last lesson, I think he’s finally ready.”
“Ready?” Karen echoed, her stomach jumping uncomfortably. “Ready for what? You guys remember how much I dislike being surprised, right? I mean, I think I’ve made that pretty clear…”
