Cowboy Take Me Away (Rough Riders #16)

by Lorelei James

  “Hey, sugar. I’m sittin’ here beside you. I know you can hear me. I need you to hear me. Come back to me. I need you to know that I’m right here, I ain’t goin’ anywhere.

  “It’s quiet out where I am in the waitin’ room. There’s really not a whole lot for me to do except sit around and think. Dangerous, right? I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m an old fool for talkin’ to you like this, because I know you can hear me. I know it. I feel you—my Carolyn—stirring inside there. I can’t explain it any better than that and I don’t even bother tellin’ the nurses or doctors, lest they believe me to be a crazy old coot and kick me outta here.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinkin’ about our courtship, but as fast as things went between us, we shoulda called it a rocket ship.” He paused because he knew she was laughing inside at his lame joke. “Anyway, Dalton just dropped by and said to tell you that him’n Rory are holdin’ you in their thoughts. I’ll admit I was surprised to see him.” He let his thumb sweep over her knuckles. “Guess they had a nice honeymoon. Wish I’da taken you someplace fancy. So I’ll make you a deal; when you come outta this, I’ll take you anywhere in the world you wanna go for our fiftieth, okay?”

  He paused. Forcing himself to slow down.

  “So Dalton was tellin’ me his house remodel project is a big job. He kinda hinted around that him’n Rory have had some cross words about that. I’m afraid I laughed at him when he said now that they’re officially married things will go right as rain between them. I couldn’t help but remember that first year we were married… It’s a miracle we stayed married. Yeah, I know it wasn’t all bad. It made us stronger as a couple goin’ forward, that’s for damn sure. Makes me cringe to think you couldn’t even buy your own birthday shot that year. Christ. I cannot believe you were only nineteen. You looked that young, but sugar, you never acted that young. Especially with what you had to deal with growing up.”

  The door to the room opened. “Mr. McKay? Time’s up.”

  He acknowledged the nurse with a wave.

  “Come back to me. I’m right here. Where I’ve always been, where I’ll always be. I love you. Please. Come back to me.”

  Carolyn felt as if she was suspended in a box. Trapped inside the four walls, aimlessly floating up, sinking to the bottom or floundering in the middle. Every once in a while she’d get a sharp pain in her head from being too close to the top. She’d reach up and push herself down and the pain would fade.

  A spike lanced her brain. Before she moved, she heard it.

  Heard him.

  And I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m an old fool for talkin’ to you like I do, because I know you can hear me. I know it. I feel you—my Carolyn—stirring inside there.

  She pounded her fists on the ceiling, yelling, I’m here! Right here! I can hear you! Don’t go! Stay here with me!

  But the louder she yelled, the fainter his anguished voice became so she went motionless again.

  I couldn’t help but remember that first year we were married…

  She listened to the cadence of his voice, needing it to tether her. But she found herself spinning headlong into that memory even as she tried to reach out to hold onto him for a little while longer…

  They’d been married three glorious weeks.

  Carolyn had never been happier. Carson left early in the morning, came home for lunch, and did mysterious “ranch stuff” until supper, or he’d knock off mid-afternoon. He never mentioned if the tension and anger between him and his father had been patched up. Occasionally he’d mention a dumb thing that one of his brothers had done, or more accurately what they’d left undone. He came down hard on Casper and seemed to forgive Charlie because of his age. Even though Carson and Cal were twins, Cal deferred to his older-by-just-a-few-minutes brother.

  Although there were only six weeks until the end of summer, Carolyn convinced Carson to till up a section of dirt behind the trailer. He brought her a truck bed full of good black dirt to mix in with the red clay soil and fenced the area off.

  She’d planted peas, beans, lettuce, radishes and other vegetables with shorter growing times. She drove to see her mother twice a week and checked on that garden because her brothers had no interest in maintaining it. In her mind that meant half the yield of whatever she grew and canned belonged to her.

  Since it was her birthday, Carson insisted on celebrating by taking her out. After supper they headed to the dancehall to meet Cal, Charlie, Casper, the McKay’s neighbor Jerry Jenkins and his girlfriend Brenda, Beverly and Mike, who were officially engaged, and her brother Thomas and two of his friends.

  Booze flowed freely and as the birthday girl she nursed a beer just to keep people from nagging her about not drinking. Carolyn chatted with Beverly about her upcoming wedding and her excitement at being a military wife. When she looked up she noticed Carson had disappeared.

  At the half an hour mark when Carson hadn’t returned, when her brother Thomas asked her to dance she said, “Sure.”

  Out on the dance floor, she knew Thomas had something on his mind. “What’s going on?”

  “Remember that stuff we talked about the first night you met McKay?”

  “About me moving to Denver with you or to Chicago with my friend Cathy?”

  “Yeah. I told Dad tonight that I’m going to Denver and I gave the mine my two-week notice.”

  She felt as if he’d punched her in the gut. “You’re really doing it.”

  “I really am.”

  “What did Dad say?”

  “Some smart thing about not being surprised because I’ve always been too good to get my hands dirty for very long. Not much I could say to that, was there? Anyway, Mom started crying about another of her kids flying the nest. But she wasn’t upset, just…resigned.”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  Thomas squeezed her hand. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re a married woman now, with a life of your own. Denver’s not that far away. Carson wanted to take you there for your honeymoon and you know you can visit me anytime.”

  Her eyes searched his. “But that’s the only way I’ll ever see you, isn’t it? Because you’re not coming back here.”

  “Maybe I will. Chances are I won’t.”

  “Because of Dad?”

  He sighed. “Yeah. Mom’s gotten way worse in the last year and Dad won’t…”

  “But he took her to the doctor last month.”

  “Did either of them tell you what the doctor said?”

  Carolyn shook her head.

  “The rheumatoid arthritis is in her lungs.”

  She frowned. “What does that mean?”

  He said nothing.

  “Thomas. You can’t spring something like that on me and then clam up.”

  “Do you think I wanted to share this with you on your birthday?” he demanded. “No way. And here I am… Just forget it.”

  “Because it’s bad, isn’t it?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “How bad?”

  “If she goes on oxygen they’re giving her another two years to live at most. Without oxygen…a year.”

  That’s it? “How’d you find out?”

  “They were fighting about it. She’s refused to go on oxygen because she doesn’t want to move into a nursing home just to prolong her miserable life—her words, not mine.”

  She rested her head on her brother’s shoulder, too shocked to even cry.

  “I’m sorry. I was the only one home during their fight so I’m the only one who knows. And now you.”

  “Even knowing she’ll probably be dead in a year, you’re still going to Denver?”

  Thomas locked his gaze to hers. “Yes. I can’t change anything and I’ve watched this situation deteriorate long enough. You weren’t here and I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. We h
ave to make our own choices. You did. Now I am.”

  “What am I supposed to do with this information? Mom and Kimi had a fight after the wedding and she left in a huff, saying she wasn’t ever coming back. That she’d finish out her schooling and work for Aunt Hulda until she turned eighteen.” Carolyn wanted to scream, who’s going to take care of her?

  But in that moment, she knew. Caring for her mother as she was dying would fall to her.

  “I’ve always been closer to you than anyone else in the family,” Thomas reminded her. “I couldn’t not tell you.”

  Did he think passing along the bad news somehow absolved him of the guilt of leaving?

  The only one who feels guilty about anything in the West family is you.

  When the song ended, she hoofed it back to the table and ignored Thomas’s shouts calling her back. Still no sign of Carson, but he’d left his whiskey.

  Good. She picked it up and drained it.

  Beverly grinned. “That’s the spirit, birthday girl! Mike, get her another shot. And one for me.”

  “Oh, no, that’s okay.”

  “I insist,” Beverly said. “Who knows where I’ll be on my birthday so we’re celebrating yours and mine tonight.”

  Carolyn knew better than to argue. And besides, wasn’t that what this crowd did? She needed to learn to drink. Especially if she wanted to keep up with her husband.

  Where was he, by the way?

  She tapped Charlie on the arm. “Where’s Carson?”

  “Went out to talk to Earl about something. Why?”

  “He’s been gone a while.”

  “You know Carson. He gets to talkin’ and drinkin’ and loses track of time.”

  No, she didn’t know that about the man she’d married.

  “Come on sis-in-law, you wanna dance with me?”

  “Sure. After the shot I’m doing with Beverly.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. “Didn’t think you drank.”

  “I’m trying it on for size tonight.”

  He slid his full lowball glass over. “Since I’m too young to buy you a birthday shot, you can have this.”

  “Why aren’t you drinking?”

  He shrugged. “Not feelin’ it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mike returned with two shot glasses. Beverly leaned over to whisper, “To marriage; we fold our man’s socks because we want to hold their cocks.”

  Carolyn grinned. She chased the whiskey burn with the last of her warm beer. Then she clapped Charlie on the shoulder. “Let’s dance.”

  Charlie was a great dancer. She didn’t think anything of it when the “Do-Si-Do” started, requiring dancers on the floor to change partners. She danced with half a dozen different men. During the last minute or so, she ended up with a guy who was drunk. He kept trying to pull her closer and she tried to rip herself away from him entirely with a terse, “Let. Go.”

  “Sorry.” Instead of releasing her, he clamped his hand on her butt cheek and angled his head like he wanted to kiss her.

  Her reactions were slower than usual, courtesy of the booze, so she turned her head away.

  But the guy’s lips didn’t land.

  Because Carson had inserted his arm between her and Mr. Grabby Hands.

  “What the hell? Move it, buddy,” he slurred.

  Carolyn watched as Carson pushed the guy back. Then he punched him hard in the stomach and followed through with an uppercut that rocked the guy on his feet. When the guy didn’t go down, Carson hit him two more times until he did.

  Then he loomed over him. “You ever put your filthy fuckin’ hands on my wife again I will break every fuckin’ bone in your body. Every. Goddamned. Bone. And then I will make you bleed. Are we clear, you sorry son of a bitch?”

  The people who’d been on the dance floor had gathered around. A woman dropped to her knees beside the man and glared at Carson. “What did my husband do to you?”

  “He touched my wife.”

  “We were dancing, you moron—of course he touched her,” she snapped.

  But Carson hadn’t looked at the guy’s wife even once. He was too busy trying to set him on fire with his gaze of hatred. “Last I knew his hands on her ass and him tryin’ to lock lips with her wasn’t part of dancin’.”

  Carolyn touched Carson’s arm. He still didn’t look away.

  Charlie moved in and Carson immediately stepped between them, shoving Carolyn behind his back. “Don’t ever come up behind her like that.”

  “Because you’ll what? Knock me on my ass? Wouldn’t be the first fuckin’ time. You done with this now? Or you waitin’ till he stands up and then you’ll take it outside so you can keep beatin’ on him?”

  She froze. Carson wanted to keep fighting this guy?

  “I’m done.” Carson put his hands on her shoulders and steered her away.

  The murmurs and mutterings of what’d happened passed through the crowd.

  By the time they returned to the table, she knew Beverly had heard about the scuffle because she’d plastered on a fake smile. “Now that you’re back I can tell you happy birthday one more time before we leave.” Beverly hugged her and whispered, “Watch your step with Carson.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s never needed a good reason to start a fight. But now that you’re his wife? You’re reason enough.”

  “Beverly, Carson would never hit me.”

  “I know. But that doesn’t hold true for the men who are looking at you. And if they touch you? They may as well start picking their teeth up off the floor. The man has a possessive streak as wide as the state of Wyoming when it comes to you, Carolyn.”

  “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

  “A man wants you that much and wants other men to know it? Never a bad thing…as long as he shows you—behind closed doors—and it’s not all just male swagger in public.”

  “The swagger is entirely justified.”

  “Lucky you.” Beverly hugged her hard. “Take care. See you soon.”

  When she turned, she caught Carson staring at her. “What?”

  “You drank my whiskey.”

  “So? You weren’t here. And why were you gone for so long?”

  “Wasn’t that long.”

  “Almost an hour.” He frowned. “Yes, I was watching the clock. According to your brothers, you take off like that all the time.”

  “I was doin’ business, Caro. That happens.”

  Rather than chew him out in public, she put her mouth on his ear. “It used to happen. Now that you have a wife, you don’t get to disappear off to heaven knows where for heaven knows what. It’s rude to take me out on my birthday and ditch me. You know how I feel about getting ditched.”

  Carson adjusted his stance so he backed her against the wall, blocking her from everyone at the table and anyone in the vicinity. “How much have you had to drink tonight, sugar?”

  “A beer, your whiskey, Charlie’s whiskey and Beverly bought me a shot. Why? I’m not drunk.”

  “You are actin’ more belligerent than usual.”

  “Says the man who punched a guy four times,” she retorted.

  “I wanted to hit him more than that, so he oughta consider himself lucky.” He rubbed his cheek along hers. “I put the off-limits sign on you the second you started wearin’ my ring and when you took my name. He—and all the other assholes eyein’ you—needed a reminder that no one, and I mean no one, touches what’s mine.”

  “Then maybe you should take me home and prove that I’m yours.”

  “In a bit. Let’s stick around and celebrate your birthday. We’ve got years to act like an old married couple.”

  As it turned out, Carson celebrated her birthday harder than she did; she had to pour him into his truck, but not until after last call.

 
; Then once she dragged him home, he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  That night set the tone for their first year of marriage.

  Carson worked hard and played harder. They spent Friday and Saturday nights out. She’d insisted since he dragged her to the bar and the dancehall that he better not complain that she expected him to accompany her to church.

  After they’d been married three months, Clara West’s health took a turn for the worse.

  Carolyn had just finished sewing the lace on a christening gown, when she heard a loud thump in her mother’s bedroom. She raced in to find her mother lying on the floor, hacking so violently blood spilled from her lips.

  Trying to remain calm, she picked her mother up and settled her back in bed. “Do I need to call an ambulance?” Or Father Dorian?

  Her mother shook her head.

  “Don’t tell me you’re fine, Mom. I know you’re not.” She paused. “Thomas told me what’s going on.”

  Her mother lay in her bed and wheezed for several long minutes before answering. “He shouldn’t have told you.”

  “You’re right. You should’ve told me.”

  “Why? There’s nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do.”

  Frustrated, she said, “You can’t be left alone every day. You need daily medical care.” Why didn’t her father see that?

  “I sleep a lot, Liebchen.” She closed her eyes. “I’m tired now. We’ll talk later.”

  Her mother didn’t wake up for the remainder of the day. But Carolyn waited around to speak to her father, which would be awkward since they hadn’t seen each other or spoken to each other since before the wedding.

  She waited on the front porch so he couldn’t avoid her.

  Late afternoon, Eli West hauled his bulk out of his truck and stopped at the edge of the stairs; his eyes held an accusatory gleam. “You already leave that McKay bastard?”

  It took every bit of patience not to rise to his taunt. “No. How long are you going to let Mom suffer alone? She fell out of bed today. What if I hadn’t been here? And don’t lie to me, Dad. I know the arthritis is in her lungs.”