Savannah raced by him, carrying her backpack full of toys into her new bedroom. “Hey, Daddy. That’s not helping.”
“Just taking a break for a minute.”
She carried on, and he closed his eyes, listening to her light footsteps tripping down the hall. The October sun was warm and healing on his face.
He let it soak in for a few minutes. Then he opened the package and scanned through the document. What he needed to see was on the last page. His signature... and hers.
She’d finally done it. Gina had signed the divorce papers.
He was free.
Trouble was—it didn’t matter anymore.
Maybe she’d take her mountain bike out this weekend for a challenging ride, Sage thought, as she closed shop on Friday. Take advantage of the dry trails before the first big snow storm hit. It wouldn’t be long. She’d seen frost on the grass during her ride to work this morning. Every day the trees were looking a little more naked, as they shed their summer foliage.
She cycled off Main Street, following her usual route. Someone had raked their leaves into a big pile on the road. She drove right through it, relishing the crunching of the dry leaves, the delicious fall scent—that was really about death—floating up in the air around her.
She thought about avoiding Bramble Lane. But that seemed cowardly.
Or maybe she just wanted a chance to see him. Even though it would hurt.
She passed the big mansions first. The home where her mother had been born. Great-Aunt Mabel was out on the porch, sipping tea, her shoulders covered in a green and brown afghan.
She pulled in for a moment to pass on the message from her father. Of course she worded it politely. Unfortunately there didn’t seem to be any papers around the ranch that would help with the biography.
Eliza came out halfway through her explanation and Sage could tell her cousin didn’t believe her.
The “Harrumph” she heard as she returned to her bike sounded a lot like her father’s.
The houses in the next block were a little less grand, but still lovely. And now she was cycling past the third block and there was the “For Sale” sign—now covered over with a banner proclaiming: “Sold!”
How happy Tod must be with his latest commission.
Sage stopped pedaling allowing the bike to coast as Dawson’s driveway came into view. His black truck was no longer dusty. He must have washed it.
And now she could see the house—hunkered in between two Mountain Ash, their red berries future fodder for the hardy winter birds. Sitting on the front steps was Savannah, the red door open behind her.
“Hi, Sage!”
When Savannah waved at her, and called her name a second time, Sage felt compelled to stop. She squeezed the brakes and planted her left foot on the ground. “Hi, Savannah. How do you like your new house?”
“It’s big. And on Monday I have to start going to school.” Her shoulders slumped. “Every day, except the weekend.”
“School will be fun.” Sage pulled her bike over the curb and set it to rest on the driveway, next to Dawson’s truck.
“I don’t know. Seems like a lot of responsibility.”
She was something else, this girl of Dawson’s. “Where’s your daddy?”
“Taking a shower. When he’s done, he’s going to let me go play with a girl who lives down there.” Savannah pointed to her left. Then she reached out for Sage’s hand. “Want to come and see my house?”
“I shouldn’t. Not unless your dad says it’s okay.”
“He will,” Savannah gave her hand a tug. She was stronger than she looked.
Sage gave in, allowing the little girl to pull her over the threshold. She had to admit, she wasn’t all that reluctant—she was curious to see if the inside was as nice as the exterior.
The layout of the interior was perfect, as were the colors, cool gray with white accents. Moldings on the doors and walls were generous and the floor was a simple, plank oak.
But—where was the furniture?
“Is the moving truck coming later?”
“No.” Savannah’s eyes were wide and innocent. “We’re done. We put everything in the trailer into the house. See?”
She pointed out a couple of folding camp chairs against one wall in the living room. A tiny TV sat on the floor opposite. In the kitchen Sage recognized the dishes that Dawson had used in his trailer. There wasn’t yet a table or chairs.
“So where’s the trailer now, Savannah?”
“It’s in a Sign-ment store, waiting to be sold.”
“Consignment?”
Savannah nodded. “Want to see my room?”
The sound of running water, coming from the bathroom down the hall, suddenly stopped. “I have to leave, Savannah.”
“Just one look. Pleease?”
She sounded so eager, Savannah couldn’t resist. “Okay. But a really fast look.”
At the door she saw a sleeping bag on the floor and several duffel bags open with clothes peeking out.
“My toys are here,” Savannah said, pointing out some clear plastic tubs stacked in the opposite corner.
“Awesome. It’s going to be pretty when you get some furniture moved in. But Savannah, I really have to go now. It was nice to see you and I hope you like your new school.” She was backing into the hallway as she said this, but a sudden whiff of humidity, carrying the scent of a woodsy-smelling shampoo, told her she’d tarried just a little too long.Then she heard his voice, right behind her. “Like what I’ve done with the place?”
She turned in time to catch the guarded look in his eyes.
He wasn’t dressed, but he had a towel around his waist at least. Water glistened on his well-muscled chest, a few of the drops trickling down to the narrow plane of his stomach.
“It’ll be easy to vacuum.”
“That it will,” His eyes held a question....but also, hope.. “Did Savannah drag you in here? So far she’s given tours to the lady who lives next door, two guys who get paid to maintain the gardens in the fancy houses up the street and a little girl out walking her dog.”
“I’m being neighborly, right Daddy? That’s how you make new friends.”
“Well, I think it’s okay to have an open house on moving day. But after that it’s invitation only.”
“Huh?”
Sage honestly didn’t take in much of this exchange. She was remembering how Dawson had looked without a towel. And thinking it really wasn’t appropriate to let her mind go there when a child was present.
“I’m going to put some clothes on. Sage, do you mind walking Savannah down the block to the house with the green door? The woman who lives there already popped over with a casserole.”
Sage knew that woman. She’d been divorced for about two years. “A casserole, huh? I’ll bet it’s real tasty.”
Dawson looked clueless. “I have no idea. We haven’t eaten it, yet. Anyway, she has a five-year-old daughter, too, and I promised Savannah could go over. But just for an hour.” He was looking at Savannah as he said this.
“Yes! Please take me, Sage!” Savannah took her hand and gave it an enthusiastic tug.
“Sure I will. It’s no problem.”
Sage all but dragged her out of the house and down the street. One quick rap on the green door, and Miranda Jenkins was revealed, her smile fading when she looked from Sage to Savannah, then back again. “Hello Sage. You know Dawson’s daughter?”
“She’s Daddy’s friend,” Sage announced, little realizing she was crushing hopes with that comment.
Seeing the disappointment on Miranda’s face, Sage almost added that the situation wasn’t how it appeared. But on second thought—why bother. She could let Dawson handle his own love life. Wasn’t that what she’d asked him to do?
“Dawson will be back in an hour to pick her up,” Sage said. Savannah and Miranda’s daughter, Isabelle, had already run out the back door to the yard.
Mission accomplished, Sage headed down the street to retriev
e her bike. But it wasn’t there. Either it had been stolen or...
“I moved it to the back yard.” Dawson was in faded jeans and a white T-shirt. His hair was partially dry already, but one strand had fallen over his forehead. He really did clean up well.
“Why’d you that?”
“Come here, Darlin’.” He took her hand, pulled her in the front door and kissed her.
It wasn’t as rough as the last one.
No, this kiss was thorough, and serious. The kind that said next step: bed.
She put a hand on his chest, but didn’t have to push too hard to make him pause. “W-why did you do that?”
“Because it seems to me that you wouldn’t be in this house right now unless you still cared.”
Of course he was right. She could have waved at Savannah and just kept pedaling.
“According to our agreement, I was supposed to leave you alone. But I’m not a man who gives up easily. I was waiting for something Sage, and today it finally arrived. Let me show you..” He opened the front closet and pulled out a thick document, stapled in the left-hand top corner.
She only needed a glance. “Your divorce?”
“Yup. It’s final.”
The relief was all over his face, erasing lines, brightening his eyes and easing his smile so it seemed more loose and natural. Frankly, she felt pretty good, too. After all these years he was finally free.
He looped his arms around her waist and touched his head to hers. “There’s a song where the guy sings that his woman made him a better man. It’s really true for me. You have an inner light, Sage. It pulled me toward you from the start. The more I got to know you, the more I could see that there was another way for me to live my life. A better way.”
Sage thought about his mother and how she’d claimed Dawson was ready to change. That only showed how little Patricia really knew her son. “You never needed me to show you that. It was always in you. I love watching you with Savannah. You’re a good father, Dawson. And a good man. Even Hawksley thinks so.”
“You mean I already have my prospective father-in-law’s good wishes?”
Her heart soared hearing those words. Not that she’d doubted Dawson’s intentions. Not anymore. “Good wishes might be stretching things when it comes to Hawksley.”
He pulled her in closer fitting their bodies snuggly and taking some of her weight in his arms. “I hit rock bottom the day you left me in Wyoming. But I made a promise to myself and I stuck with it. Five long years of saving and studying all came together the day I got the job offer from the Sheriff’s Office.”
“And I thought it was the rodeo that brought you to town.”
“Wrong. It was you. The rodeo was icing on the cake—the grand finale to a career that served me well for a while.”
“You really think you can quit cold turkey?”
“For you and Savannah? Absolutely. I hope you’re okay with the house I bought. I picked it because it made me think of you.”
His instincts were true. But why wouldn’t they be. This man knew her better than anyone. Even better than her sisters and her best friends. “The house is perfect.”
“I was so thankful when Tod let on that you’d inquired about it. Though by then I was already worried my plan was washed up. I never imagined it would take so long for you to accept my apology.”
“It would have been easier if you hadn’t waited five years to deliver it.”
“Yeah. That was a bad call on my part. But I was determined that the next time I went near you it would be as a free man.”
She had to admire that.
“But getting Gina to agree on divorce terms, and then sign the damn papers was a nightmare. For a marriage that only lasted a matter of months, we sure set a record when it came to ending it.”
“I didn’t make your job easy for you, either. I hung on to my anger too long. Wouldn’t admit to myself that maybe you deserved a second chance.” She’d been longing to touch him. Now she pressed her palm to his cheek, and he caught her hand and kissed it.
“So that stuff you said about the Sheriff?”
“Just a smokescreen. I’m sorry for that. Yes, we went out, but it’s over and done for good. I never really loved him. How could I?”
“Darlin’—I feel like we have so much to talk about. But in fifty minutes I have to go pick up Savannah—And you have something I’ve been wanting for a very long time.” He ran his hands down her waist to her hips, then to her butt.
His kiss was still imprinted on her lips. And she wanted more, too. “Better show me your new bedroom then.”
“If you don’t mind a mattress on the floor. It’s all I’ve got.”
“Not true, Dawson. You’ve also got me.”
THE END
About the Author
CJ Carmichael has published over 35 novels and has twice been nominated for a RITA award. She likes to write stories about romance, family and intrigue, usually in small town or rural settings. When it’s time to take a break from the computer, she heads to the Rocky Mountains near her home in Calgary where she lives with her partner Michael and their cat, Penny. If you’d like to learn more about her books, check out her website: http://cjcarmichael.com.
Watch for this upcoming series from CJ Carmichael:
Carrigans Of The Circle C
CJ Carmichael
Hawksley Carrigan, owner of the Circle C Ranch south of Marietta, Montana, always wanted a son to carry on the family name. Unfortunately for him, he ended up with four daughters.
Sage Carrigan (Promise Me, Cowboy – novella)
Sage tried to please her father by competing as a barrel-racer. That’s how she met bronc-rider Dawson O’Dell. Their romance ended quickly, however, when she found out he had a wife. Five years later, Sage is a chocolatier with her own shop in Marietta. Little does she know Dawson’s been cleaning up his act and he’s coming back with plans to win her heart. Only now he has a five-year-old daughter in tow.
Mattie Carrigan (Good Together)
The eldest of the Carrigan girls, Mattie married right out of high school and moved north of Missoula to live on her husband’s ranch. She and Wes, a rodeo cowboy, had twin daughters who just this fall left for college. At thirty-eight Mattie is suddenly faced with an empty-nest—and the realization that she doesn’t really know her husband anymore.
As Mattie’s life falls into chaos, the only steady presence is her gorgeous neighbor, Nathaniel Diamond. Nat’s always been there for Mattie when things went wrong on the ranch. Why is he suddenly avoiding her now?
Dani Carrigan (Close To Her Heart)
Dani is considered the brains of the family. She earned her doctorate in psychology and current works at the University of Washington in Seattle. Her sisters don’t know that when she was younger she was raped—and terminated the pregnancy. Now, at thirty-four, she is unexpectedly pregnant again. This will probably be her last chance to have a child. But is she ready to be a mother this time?
Connor, the friends-with-benefits father of her child, is leaving the decision up to her. But when it looks like there may be a complication with the pregnancy, will he be stepping up to the plate, or fading out of the picture?
Callan Carrigan (Courting Trouble)
Youngest daughter, Callan, decided to stay on the ranch to help her father—which is why she is devastated when, after his death, she discovers he left the ranch to a distant male cousin. Her neighbor, Court, tells her she should fight for her rights. But when Callan gets angry—she rarely thinks straight. She decides instead, to reinvent herself. A plan that backfires when she discovers her father had more secrets than any of them realized.
Court Sheenan has been in love with Callan forever. But the feud between their fathers was always in the way. Now that Callan is furious at her dad—should he take advantage? Or will she end up hating him later?
An excerpt from
Tempt Me, Cowboy
Megan Crane
Copyright © 2013
&n
bsp; She was exactly the kind of trouble he didn’t need.
Jasper Flint could see the woman from halfway down the block, like a shot of bright color against the weathered old brick of his newest acquisition. She hadn’t been there when he’d left the railway depot earlier that morning for a run around the outskirts of Marietta, Montana, his brand new home. There’d been nothing but the crisp blue dawn, the hint of the coming winter already there in the chill of the late September morning while Copper Mountain stood high above the town, a sleepy blue and purple giant slouching in the distance.
And the quiet. The blessed quiet and more of the same on the wind. A far cry from the noisy, frantic, nonstop life he’d left behind in Dallas.
An hour and a leisurely five miles later, Jasper was more than ready to face a long day of renovations, the current highlight of the best decision he’d ever made: his early retirement at thirty-five. He was ready to lose himself in the simple joy of making instead of taking, the sheer, hard won happiness in transforming something old into something new. He wasn’t ready for whatever trouble this woman had brought with her, the storm of it swirling around her despite the early morning sunlight and the clear fall day, practically casting the whole street in her shadow.
It was there in the way she stood waiting for him, impatient hands on her sweet hips and her chin tilted up—belligerent and scrappy, like she wanted to exchange a few punches right there in the street. It made him smile. He wouldn’t mind getting his hands on her, blonde and cute and with legs that could inspire a man to wax a little poetic even in the blandly conservative clothes she wore, and preferably before she opened her mouth and ruined the perfectly decent fantasy he already had going on.
But he knew her type. Prissy and disapproving, spring-loaded way too tight and, unless he misread that downturned mouth of hers and the glare she aimed at him like she already knew him, constitutionally unhappy.
Promise Me, Cowboy (Copper Mountain Rodeo) Page 10
