“And?” Carson unsnapped the lead rope and led the horse to the fence. He hung the looped long line over a post.
“You won’t believe it.” Ben gave the gelding a good once over. “That’s not a bad looking animal.”
“He’s going to be a champion cutting horse,” Carson assured his neighbor.
“You always think you’ve got a champion something or other. Remember that old Angus bull you had back in high school? You wanted to show him and your dad wouldn’t let you.”
“Yeah, I remember. What were you going to tell me about town?”
“Oh, yeah, someone stole the Welcome To Little Horn sign.”
“Why in the world would anyone want the town sign?” Carson adjusted the reins and reached for a stirrup. The horse shifted a little, moving away from him.
“He’s going to get thrown,” Ben said in an aside to Derek.
“Could you focus?” Carson asked. He led the horse in a circle and shot Ben a look.
“Well, it isn’t like I know why anyone would want that old sign. It isn’t like it’s worth anything.”
Derek cleared his throat. “Kids. I really think the thieves are kids.”
“Why do you think that?” Ben asked, one booted foot on the bottom rail of the arena fence.
“Because they’re doing crazy stuff that’ll get them caught. If you want to steal cattle, why would you take stupid chances?”
Ben nodded. “Yeah, I guess. That or someone who wants everyone to think it’s a kid.”
Carson led the horse to the center of the arena, away from Ben and any temptation he might feel to make good on his theory that Carson would get thrown.
He put a foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up, putting weight on the saddle. The horse stood if he’d been a saddle horse his entire life. Carson swung his leg over and eased his booted foot into the opposite stirrup. The horse shifted under his weight but eased into a walk when Carson gave him a careful nudge.
They made it around the arena. Carson relaxed a little but maintained his control of the reins. With Ben around he wasn’t taking any chances. But nothing happened. The gelding didn’t take one wrong step. He pulled the horse to a halt at the center of the arena and shot Ben a look, because he’d won.
He settled in and gave the horse a nudge. The big gelding hopped a little. Carson spoke to him in soft, even tones, pushing him past a walk and into a trot. The horse tensed and shook his head. His ears went back. An uneasy feeling swept through Carson. The horse started to shift a little and he could feel his back arching beneath the saddle.
“I think I’d call it a day before you make me the winner,” Ben called out. His tone more serious than his words.
Carson shook his head. “If I get off, he’ll think this is how we end every ride.”
“Carson,” Derek said in a low voice. “There’s something wrong.”
Famous last words. The horse went from tense to bucking, his back end coming up hard and heavy. Carson fought for control, nearly had it and then the animal shifted directions on him.
Carson hit the ground hard. He rolled away from flying hooves and the horse ran to the other end of the arena, still shaking. Ben and Derek were climbing the fence, heading his way.
“I did not do that,” Ben called out, hands in the air. “Seriously, Carson, I don’t know what happened.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you,” Carson grumbled at Ben. He shot Derek a look as he moved to his knees, took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet. “Well?”
Derek shook his head. “He was just standing there. I honestly think it was a bee or something that spooked him.”
“I need to get back on him.” Carson rolled his shoulders and headed for the horse. “I still think you did this, Stillwater. I don’t know how, but you did.”
“I really didn’t. Here, let the kid get on. You’re walking like you’re ninety years old.”
“I got dumped,” he grouched at his friend. “And I can ride my own horse.”
“Of course you can. Where’s Brandon?” Ben asked as he reached for the reins of the horse.
“My housekeeper Bobbi Ann is watching him. Why?”
“In case you’re unconscious. It wouldn’t be good to have the kid somewhere and not know where.” Ben smirked as he said it.
“You’re real funny.” Carson took the reins from his ex-friend and managed to get back in the saddle.
“That looked painful.” Ben stood next to the horse’s head. “I think I’d only give him one opportunity to throw me today. He looks like he’s about to blow again. Are you sure there isn’t something under that saddle blanket?”
“There’s nothing under my saddle blanket. I always check my tack.” Carson eased the horse forward a few steps, ran a hand down his neck and he felt the horse start to hunch. “Something’s wrong.”
He managed to get off before the horse started to jump and try to get away. The gelding’s ears were twitching and his eyes were wild.
“I told you,” Ben said. “And you thought I’d try to get you tossed. I only like to win if I win fair.”
“Since when?” Carson handed him the reins and he reached for the saddle. He unbuckled the girth strap and hauled the saddle off the horse’s back.
Derek grabbed the blanket. He ran his hand over it and stopped about midway back. “Someone is out to get you.”
“What?” Ben leaned in close to get a look.
Derek reached between the layers of the folded blanket and pulled out a push pin. He held it up and Carson took it from him.
“Maybe they did that the other day when they took the trophies?” Ben offered.
“Maybe.” Carson ran his hand down the horse’s still quivering back. “Sorry about that, old man.”
The horse turned, rubbed his head against Carson’s arm.
“No hard feelings?” Carson shook his head. “If I find out who did that, I’m going to stick pins in their backs.”
“You think more than one person?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, I’m starting to think so. Maybe we’re dealing with two different sets of thugs. Thieves and pranksters?”
“Could be,” Ben said.
“Let me brush him down for you.” Derek took the reins. “I really don’t mind.”
“Thanks, Derek. Put him in the first stall when you’re done, and give him a scoop of grain from the blue bin in the feed room.”
“I can do that.” Derek walked off with the horse.
Ben opened the gate. “And maybe you should go take advantage of that hot tub on your back deck.”
“You act like I haven’t been thrown before.” Carson limped along next to Ben.
“I know you’ve been thrown plenty of times.”
“I wouldn’t say plenty.” Carson’s pride had to argue.
Ben raised a brow. “Okay, not plenty. A few times. But you are getting older.”
He shot his friend a look. “Why did you say you’re over here?”
“Can’t a neighbor stop by to visit?” Ben slowed his pace. “I don’t mind giving you a hard time, but are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, I know you wouldn’t want to admit in front of Ruby’s little brother that...”
Carson stopped walking and pointed to the horse still tied at his barn. “Why don’t you go home?”
“It can’t be easy, having her back here.”
“It isn’t that difficult. We’re not kids anymore.”
“No, that’s for sure.” Ben paused, rubbing a thumb along his chin. “She’s pretty easy on the eyes. And you’ve got to be lonely in that big old house.”
“I’m not lonely. I have Brandon.”
“Right, an eight-year-old.”
“He’s five,” Carson corrected.
A truck rattled up the drive, ending the conversation. And giving Ben Stillwater another reason to laugh. “Well, look who came to call. If it isn’t Ruby Donovan?”
“Shut up a
nd go home.”
Ben didn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he shifted his glance from the rusted-out red farm truck back to Carson. “Carson, some men, like myself, enjoy being single. There are a lot of women in the world and I’m not ready to settle down with just one of them. But you, on the other hand. It’s like you had a fortress here with no one to talk to but the walls until that kid came along. That isn’t good for a man.”
“It serves me just fine.”
Ben nodded in the direction of Ruby as she got out of her truck. “Maybe time to let bygones—”
“Go home.”
Ben laughed as he walked away. “Sure thing, friend. But remember, it isn’t good for a man to be lonely.”
“No, but it does make his life a lot less complicated,” Carson shot back as he walked on down the drive to the woman in question. She was a complication. No ifs, ands or buts. But one thing he’d learned when she’d left town was that emotions couldn’t be trusted. His had been tied up with her, and that hadn’t gotten him too far.
These days he trusted what he knew, not what he felt.
When he reached Ruby, she gave him a careful look head to toe.
“Are you okay?”
He yanked off his hat. “I’m fine.”
She blanched at his growl. “Sorry for asking.”
Carson closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath and managed to open his eyes and be a little more human. “I’m sorry. What can I do for you?”
“I’m checking to see if my brother is here.”
“He’s putting a horse up for me. I can get him and send him home.” He started to turn back to the barn but she put a hand on his arm to stop him.
“No, that’s okay. I don’t want him to think...”
“That you’re checking on him?”
She bit down on her bottom lip. “Yeah. I trust him, Carson. But I want to know where he is at all times so that the people who don’t trust him can’t hurt him with their accusations.”
“I understand that. I’m thinking this will all settle down in time and we can all relax again.”
“I hope so,” she said. And then she glanced at his leg again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m good. I’m breaking a gelding and...” He didn’t want to admit it. Not that he was too proud to say it, but a man did have a code to live by.
“You got tossed!”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
She swallowed what looked like the beginning of a smile and her eyes widened, humor lighting the hazel depths. “No, of course I’m not. Maybe we should go inside and get you a glass of tea and some aspirin.”
“I’m heading that way now.” He kept walking, rolling his shoulders to relieve the kink in his back.
“I should go then.”
He was at the steps to the porch and he turned to look at the woman standing in his yard. The wind caught the soft auburn hair, blowing a few tendrils in her face. She looked nervous. She looked out of place. He guessed she would feel all of those things here at his house.
She’d never been inside. It hit him hard. Back when they’d dated his dad wouldn’t let her come inside. He’d thought that would keep the two of them apart, if he did everything he could to make Ruby feel unwelcome.
“Come inside?” he offered now. Because he wasn’t that kid anymore. It was his home. Looking at her standing in the yard he realized that, if nothing else, she was his friend.
“Okay.”
She joined him, walking up the steps and across the wide front porch. He held the door open and motioned her inside. Into his home. And strangely, back into his life in a way she’d never been before.
* * *
Carson’s home. She’d always wondered what it looked like. She’d always known that if she ever entered through those doors, she would feel out of place. And she did. The entry led to a big living room with windows overlooking the front lawn. The furniture was red leather and oak. The pictures on the walls were expertly placed and expensive.
“How’s your grandmother?” he asked as they walked through the living room.
“Not good,” she admitted. “The last couple of weeks, it’s as if the Parkinson’s has gotten a good hold and she’s deteriorated. She still tries to do everything she’s always done, but I can tell it takes a lot out of her.”
“I’m sorry. She’s always been strong and I know it’s going to be hard. Not just on her, but on everyone who knows her.”
She nodded, but she couldn’t say more, not with tears stinging her eyes. She was glad his back was to her as they walked through the house.
He led her down a hall to the kitchen with its massive six-burner stainless steel stove, double-door fridge and granite countertops. The cabinets were dark. The floors were stone. The rest of the room was all metal and wood and warmth.
“I think even I could cook in a kitchen like this,” she said as he headed for the sink. He leaned to rest both hands on the counter and he straightened his arms to stretch his back. She moved forward, her feet taking her where her mind told her she shouldn’t go.
Before she could stop herself her hands rested on his shoulders. She massaged deep into the tissue, and he rolled his head forward, sagging a little but flinching when she hit a tender spot. She started to pull away.
“No, don’t stop.”
She continued to massage. He straightened, and she rubbed her hands once down his strong, muscled back before stepping away. He turned, sighing and leaning a hip against the counter.
“Thank you.”
She shrugged it off, as if it hadn’t mattered. As if touching him, being near him after all these years, didn’t bother her. He obviously wasn’t bothered. Carson was Mr. Composure. She could do that, too; she could pretend it didn’t matter.
Even when he stepped close, so close she could smell the outdoors on him, smell the soap he’d used, the aftershave he’d splashed on that morning, the scent of his skin after working horses, even then she told herself she could be composed. But her heart stuttered at his nearness, calling her a liar.
She drew in a breath and looked up, meeting his eyes, dark and questioning. He leaned, and she started to shake her head. But his hand brushed hers, his fingers gently pulling her to him.
The doorbell rang. She let out the breath she’d held. “Saved by the bell,” she quipped.
His mouth turned, revealing his dimple. “If you want to see it that way.”
“I’ll pour the tea,” she offered. “If that invitation still stands?”
“It stands. I’ll be back.”
He came back a few minutes later with her brother in tow. Derek shot her a look. And then he let his gaze settle on Carson in a none-too-friendly way. She didn’t need for him to be her watchdog. She’d have to tell him that later. She was fully capable of taking care of herself. She’d been doing it a long time.
Fortunately, a ruckus from the back of the house swept away the awkwardness that lingered among the three.
Carson had pulled three glasses out of the cabinet. He reached for another and a small plastic cup with a lid. “That would be Bobbi Ann and Brandon. She’s a great housekeeper, and she doesn’t seem to mind double duty as a babysitter in the afternoons.”
“If there are days she can’t watch him, he’s more than welcome to get off the bus at our place,” Ruby offered. And then realized she shouldn’t have. She shouldn’t keep taking these disastrous steps into his life, making offers that only reminded her of how it felt to leave this town and her family with a heart so broken there were still pieces missing.
Pieces he held and he didn’t know he held. Or he didn’t care. She wanted to ask him what had happened to make him this cold, composed person. What had taken away the laughter, the warmth?
But she wouldn’t because he held the pieces and unless he wanted to give them back, she couldn’t risk losing more of herself to this man.
Chapter Seven
Carson hadn’t been to church
much over the years, not since his mom died. On Sunday morning he sat in his truck in the parking lot, Brandon buckled in the backseat of the Ford King Ranch. More than fifteen years had passed since Lila Thorn had left this earth. He missed both of his parents in different ways. His dad had driven him to always succeed. In school. In sports. In college.
His mom had been the soft touch in their lives, always trying to smooth things over when James went too far with discipline and expectations. She’d taken Carson and Jenna to church because it had mattered to her that they have faith. He smiled, remembering how she’d always dressed up when she’d gone out in public. Faith mattered, but appearances mattered, too. She’d been the daughter of a wealthy businessman from Houston. A man Carson barely remembered.
His grandfather had been busy, dedicated, driven.
Sitting in his truck, looking at the white church that people in Little Horn knew as the cornerstone of their community, he thought about that drive and dedication, so much a part of his own life.
Hard work won’t let a man down, his dad had always said. Everything else will. When James Thorn had paid off Ruby, he’d used her as an example. “Hard work, son, not emotions.”
He thought back on that moment and wondered about his dad’s emotions when he’d lost the love of his life. Maybe that was why he’d become consumed with work, with the ranch, with keeping his kids on the path he’d claimed was best. Because emotions hurt.
James Thorn had been too strong to admit to pain.
Carson shook himself free from memories and looked in the backseat at the little boy who had his own pain, a mom who had called only twice—and those conversations had been brief.
Jenna had been a little lost since their mother passed away. Carson had watched her move from one bad relationship to another, losing herself along the way. But she’d always tried to be a good mom. She’d done her best considering she didn’t really have someone to lean on. And even though she’d lived at the ranch from time to time, in the past she’d refused to lean on him, to let him help.
As much as he loved his sister, Carson knew that Brandon needed stability. Until he could sit Jenna down and figure out a plan, he had to plan for Brandon’s future. He’d called a lawyer this past week to file for guardianship. Because someone had to be in charge. A child couldn’t drift with no one being responsible.
A Reunion for the Rancher (Lone Star Cowboy League 1) Page 7
