One confession couldn’t solve everything, couldn’t sweep away her problems, couldn’t keep her from understanding she didn’t deserve another chance for happiness with him.
She had realized that already, earlier this evening, hadn’t she? Watching him with Rosie had told her the truth. Luke loved his child...and would have loved their child, too.
She couldn’t risk getting this close to him, close enough to make her want to open her heart.
His mouth still on hers, she shifted in his arms, ending their kiss and laughing as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Pretending that her heart wasn’t breaking.
“Wow.” She gasped. “That made my head spin.”
“Yeah, mine, too.”
“No,” she said. “Not like this.” She put a hand to her forehead and winced, not from pain but from guilt at the lie she had to tell. “That fall might’ve done more damage than I thought. Maybe you were right, after all, and I’ve got a concussion.”
Her statement had the not-so-desired but necessary effect of putting an end to any more kisses—and to anything else he might have had in mind.
It almost resulted in a trip to the hospital or, at the least, a call to the Baron family doctor.
She had to backtrack immediately, making light of what she’d said without admitting she had fibbed. At the same time, she pretended to let slip she’d had second thoughts about a make-out session on the couch.
“There’s no sense in looking for anything more than this,” she said honestly. “I’m only here on the ranch for a little while. And then it’s back to Houston again.”
“I know.”
“Which means it’s better not to start anything between us.”
His eyes narrowed as he gazed at her.
He didn’t like that decision.
Neither did she.
At least she had sounded convincing enough to get him to back off about calling in a doctor. He insisted upon checking her pupils with a penlight, made her stand up and walk a straight line and asked her a series of simple questions.
Finally, he appeared satisfied she was okay for the short walk to the ranch house. “Anna’s got to wake you periodically through the night to check for signs of concussion. I told you, you need to make sure of that, or you’re spending the night right here.”
“And I already told you, I’ll arrange it.”
Those ideas didn’t please her, either. Having Anna hovering over her versus Luke and his couch. She had opted for the lesser of two evils.
Now, idiotically, she wished she had made the more dangerous choice.
Chapter Twelve
In the week after the horseback ride, Carly spent every waking moment either with Brock or immersed in work at the Peach Pit. She desperately needed to distract herself from thoughts of Luke and the feelings of hopelessness and guilt that seemed to increase every time she went near him.
Her time at the store, especially, left her open to the chance of running into him. She counteracted that by staying away just before suppertime, when he had most often stopped in, and by making sure they were in sight of Gina or a customer whenever he was near.
The day after their ride, he had managed to corner her to ask quietly how she was feeling—and to verify that she’d had Anna check on her through the night. She had rolled her eyes, trying to minimize the importance of her fall, but admitted she had done as promised.
Since then, he had come in daily to pick up a pecan roll or some peach tarts and his regular Friday-night pie. If only Gina hadn’t told her about not charging the darned man, she could have added a nice chunk of change to the store’s profits while Savannah was gone.
Today, she had arrived at the Peach Pit to find the usual Saturday crowd in the store. Finally, after an hour, she and Gina had a chance to exchange a few words.
“We received a delivery this morning,” Gina told her, “a supply order Savannah put in before she left. I was busy when the deliveryman showed up, and I had him set the boxes on the worktable in the back. I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to touch them since.”
“No problem. When it slows down out here, I’ll unpack and check the contents, then you can help me stash them away, since you’ll know better where everything should go.”
Gina nodded. “It’s all nonperishable items, and fortunately Savannah has plenty of extra storage room upstairs. We’re going to need it.”
In the early afternoon, Carly went into the back room and got to work. With only half the boxes unpacked, she had to agree with Gina about the space upstairs. There wasn’t enough room here or in the kitchen to store the surplus.
Cross-checking the supplies against the packing list and Savannah’s order took her a good part of the afternoon. Maybe that was because her mind frequently strayed from the job.
With the honeymooners due home in a couple of days, she would soon have no reason to spend as much time at the store. Still, she looked forward to their return, when Travis would continue his search for Delia Baron. With luck, he would have more success this time around.
Sighing, she set the paperwork aside and eyed the worktable, so full of the items she had unpacked that she had nowhere to work. Until Gina could join her and show her the extra storage space, she would refill the packing boxes temporarily....
Her hands stilled on an empty carton.
Thoughts of boxes, temporarily stored, triggered a memory.
Getting ready to leave for college. Packing up her personal belongings.
Those she didn’t plan to take with her had gone into separate boxes, which she had taken up to the attic of the ranch house, away from prying eyes. Not that she thought her family would go through her bedroom while she was gone. But Brock might have had an overflow of guests and needed to offer her room to someone. Anna might have wanted to do some fall cleaning.
Later, once Brock had married Julieta and her son had grown into a mischievous little boy, Carly had been just as glad to have her personal items stored in the attic, in boxes that were taped shut and had her name scrawled on them.
Now, instead of wanting to work at the Peach Pit until the last customer had been waited on and the door was locked for the night, she couldn’t wait to leave and get back to the ranch house.
Inside those boxes in the attic, hidden among half-forgotten childhood and teenaged treasures, she might discover something of real value.
She might find something that would lead them to her mom.
* * *
SHAKING HIS HEAD, Luke dropped the file folder of invoices on Brock’s desk in the den. In the past few days the boss had turned into a micromicromanager. Worse, he’d hounded Luke about the bull-riding lessons.
Luke never lied, and Carly’s story about being too busy at the store had worn too thin for his liking. Savannah and Travis were due back in a couple of days, at which point her excuse would wear out altogether.
Since her fall from Daredevil, he’d had plenty of opportunities to see her at work at the Peach Pit. She moved effortlessly and without a single grimace. As far as he could see, she was ready to ride.
But he’d had his doubts all along about what she had said to her daddy. Something told him she had no true desire to ride bulls, period.
Early on in their relationship, he’d seen the vulnerability in Carly. Yet he had never fallen for her wild-girl act, no matter how he played along. Her interest in bull riding was as false as that act of hers had always been, a mask she put on only because she had something to hide from everyone. Including him.
He wondered what it was she couldn’t bring herself to tell him.
But what did it matter? She had made the obvious even more plain—there was no sense in their starting anything between them. As if he would, anyhow.
He had a daughter she wouldn’t go near
and plans for more kids in his future. A future he wouldn’t be sharing with Carly.
He wished now he’d kept his mouth shut with her about his past. What had made him tell her about the scholarship, he didn’t know. Maybe the need to make her see he wasn’t the opportunistic bastard she’d always thought he was.
And that didn’t matter anymore, either.
He turned to leave the den.
A heavy thud sounded overhead, followed by a series of crashes. Followed by dead silence.
He hurried out into the hallway. “Brock? Anna? Carly?”
No answer.
They would be the only ones home at this hour of the day, and he already knew they weren’t downstairs. He had checked the ground floor when he arrived.
He headed for the stairs, calling their names again.
More silence.
At the far end of the hall on the second floor, a door stood ajar. As he approached the opening, the attic floorboards groaned. Someone was up there, and he doubted it would be Brock on his crutches. “Anna?”
He took the stairs three at a time.
In the center of the huge room, Carly knelt on the floor, surrounded by open packing boxes marked with her name.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded.
She flinched and looked up at him, wide-eyed, as if she hadn’t heard him until just now. “Luke?”
“What’s going on? What was all that noise?”
She gestured behind her. “I knocked over a few boxes of Anna’s extra baking pans, I think.” She stared down at the cartons around her.
He frowned. Every day this week, he’d swung by the Peach Pit after work, yet he’d never managed to get her alone. That was deliberate on her part, he felt sure. She wanted to avoid seeing him at all.
If so, she was much too laid-back about seeing him now. And she hadn’t heard him calling her name. Whatever those cartons contained, they had caught and held her attention.
On the floor beside her rested a short stack of beige envelopes tied with a pink ribbon. He had never seen the ribbon before, but he’d put money down for a bet on those envelopes.
He eased onto a plastic-shrouded rocking chair and linked his fingers together in front of him. “Looks like you saved my letters.”
She glanced down at the pile and flushed. “Guess so. I’d forgotten they were in here.”
The ribbon was still tied tight, which meant she hadn’t come up here just to read the few sweet nothings he’d sent her. So, this wasn’t a trip down memory lane. Or was it? “What are you doing up here?”
“Looking through these boxes.”
He laughed softly. “Well, right. I can see that for myself.”
She sat back on her heels and ran a hand through her hair. “I came up here to try to find a piece of my past.”
But not the part that included him.
She took a deep breath and held it, as if she didn’t want to say anything more. A second later she let the breath out in a whoosh and looked at him, her eyes shining. “Luke. I think I might have a way to find my mom.”
For a moment, he sat speechless. He’d never forgotten the story she had once told him of how her mother had walked out on them all. Just up and left one day and never came back. Carly had been five years old when that happened, and she never seemed to have gotten over it. “You’re kidding. A link to your mom, after all these years?”
She nodded. “Savannah and Travis have been looking for her, though Savannah doesn’t want the family to know. When I finally remembered about these boxes up here, I thought maybe I could find something to help. And look.”
Any reluctance she might have had to be with him had now disappeared in her excitement to show him what she’d discovered. She pushed aside a box and held out a stack of drawings, curled at the edges from having been rolled up and tied with another ribbon.
“I drew these when I was a kid. Who knows why the heck I ever saved them. But look at this.”
She handed him one of the drawings. When he unfurled it and held the edges flat against his knees, she came to his side and pointed to the stick figures lined up on the page. The first figure had a cloud of yellow hair and a couple of red splotches in the vicinity of her stomach. “That’s Mom in her apron with the strawberries on the pockets.”
“I thought they were bloodstains.”
She shoved his arm. “What do you expect, a masterpiece? I was five years old when I drew this.” She pointed to the next two figures, one with a round body and a beehive of brown hair, the other half-size and wearing a wide grin. “That’s me and Anna.”
“Looks just like you.” He pointed to the last stick figure with its tall, emaciated body and an unruly mass of red curls. “And who’s this?”
“That’s...” She faltered. “I don’t know. She was at the house a lot, always in the kitchen with me and Mom and Anna. Now that I’ve seen these drawings again, I remember her face clearly. I just can’t recall her name. But,” she added, sounding more confident, “Anna will know.”
The excitement in her face was at odds with the worried look in her eyes. Both told him how much she was depending on the older woman to have answers. What if Anna didn’t know the woman’s name? What if she didn’t recall anything about the woman at all?
At five years old, Carly had been hurt beyond belief. At eighteen, she’d still been vulnerable over her loss. What would it do to her, all these years later, if this clue she believed she had found came to a dead end?
Or worse?
“I hope you find out who this is,” he began cautiously. “But after so many years—”
“I know. You don’t need to say it. There’s a chance Anna won’t remember. Or even if she does know the woman, we might not be able to track her down. We’ve already hit those kinds of roadblocks,” she said bitterly.
“Carly.” He rested his hand lightly on her wrist. “Family’s important. I get that, especially not having much of my own. I don’t know what I’d do without Rosie or Mom.” Her arm jerked beneath his hand. “But you have lots of family. And you’re important to every one of them.”
“I know that. They’re just as important to me.”
“They love you.”
“I know that, too. And I love them.” She frowned. “What are you trying to say?”
“Just because your mom left, it doesn’t mean she didn’t care about you. Or that she didn’t love you.”
She looked away.
He moved his hand from her wrist and curled his fingers around hers.
She looked back at him, her eyes bright. “Those are things I don’t know for sure. And I won’t, until I find out her reason for leaving.”
He sighed. “Then I hope you’re right and Anna’s got the name you’re looking for.”
* * *
GOOD THING THE drive from the Peach Pit to the ranch house was short, with no traffic, and nearly a straight line, because Carly covered the few miles in a brain fog. She had so much on her mind, she could barely focus.
But she was conscious enough to see the rider on the chestnut horse cantering parallel to the road. She pulled to the side, opened the door of the truck so she could stand on the running board and waved to get Luke’s attention. He waved his Stetson and headed the horse her way.
Her heart suddenly pounding, she closed the door and waited for him to approach the truck. She’d waited just as impatiently at the Peach Pit tonight, but he hadn’t come into the store. So ironic, after all the time she had spent trying to avoid being alone with him this week.
He dismounted and stood beside the driver’s door. “What’s up?”
“I talked to Anna last night. She remembered the woman’s name.”
His eyes lit. She had the window fully open and her hand on the door frame. He rested his h
and on hers and gave her fingers a squeeze. Her heart tripped, but she told herself not to get excited. He’d held her hand in the attic yesterday, too. Then, he’d felt sorry for her. Now, he only wanted to share her excitement.
“That’s great,” he said. “Have you found her?”
She shook her head. “No, I tried. But I didn’t get far. Travis has the resources. I’ll talk to him when they get back.”
“This sounds like cause for a celebration. Have dinner with me tomorrow?”
She hesitated, wanting to say yes, wanting to be with him again, yet knowing how foolish it would be to accept. Besides, she couldn’t go out then, anyway. “I can’t. We’re having a family dinner to welcome Savannah and Travis back.”
“Monday, then.”
Hadn’t she told him they needed to keep the past in the past? That she would be headed back to Houston soon?
Those were the reasons she had to turn him down.
Yet, she wanted to accept his invitation. Though they couldn’t have time alone, she could have that one last chance to cherish being with him. And to say goodbye. A friendly goodbye she hoped might help to make up for their angry parting years ago.
Her heart ached, much worse than the way her body had after a go-around with Twister.
“All right,” she agreed. “But let me bring dinner this time. And...and something for Rosie.”
He smiled slowly, then shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but no takeout, no kids. I’m talking dinner out, adults only. I’m taking you out on the town.”
* * *
CARLY’S SUNDAY MORNING passed in a blur. Half of her felt excited that Savannah and Travis would be home soon and she would be able to tell them what she had discovered. Half of her felt filled with dread over her upcoming date with Luke.
She wasn’t sure she would be able to eat a bite of Anna’s pork roast and homemade applesauce. Then again, with all her brothers here for dinner, she’d probably be lucky to get more than a few bites to begin with.
Lizzie and Chris had already arrived and were in the living room with Brock, Julieta and Alex. Jacob had greeted everyone and then disappeared, most likely on a visit to Luke’s.
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