Courting Carrie: a Cowboy Fairytales spin-off (Triple H Brides Book 2)

by Lacy Williams

  She finished clipping the front of his head, only half aware that he was probably staring right at her stomach and those last fifteen pounds of baby weight that she'd been planning to lose since Scarlett had been born. He wasn't bad looking, she mused as she moved around to the back of his head and tilted his chin down so she could attack the line of hair above his collar. But the only man she'd sucked in her tummy for had been—

  She cut off that line of thought just as she noticed his hands fidgeting on his knees. Was he nervous or something?

  "Done," she said in her most chipper voice, unsnapping the salon cape. She grabbed a soft barber's brush and swiped away the stray hairs from the collar of his shirt.

  He shifted nervously in the chair, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "Say... do you want to grab a cup of coffee sometime? Or maybe hot chocolate. You know, 'tis the season and everything."

  It was so out of left field that she stared at him in open-mouthed shock for at least a second before she pulled herself together. "Oh, that's...nice. Thank you for asking, but, um...I don't think so."

  Other than a blush high on his cheeks, he didn't seem fazed by her blundered rejection, only nodded and got up from the chair, paid and left.

  The timer for Velma's perm dinged, and Carrie didn't have time to ponder the weirdness of Zach's request until she'd washed the dye out of Sarah's hair and got her settled back in the stylist’s chair. Her friend stared at her, wide-eyed, in the mirror. "What was that?"

  "I have no idea," Carrie said.

  She wasn't the kind of girl guys randomly asked out. Everyone in town knew about Scarlett, knew she was a single mom. She wasn't ashamed of it, but it was baggage, and in her experience, the good guys didn't seem interested in baggage.

  Except for Trey.

  Dusk was falling as Sarah Campbell exited her veterinary clinic in a rush, her usual modus operandi. She needed to call the ram's owner and tell them the surgery had been a success. She'd put her phone on speaker and do it on the way—her truck was too old for Bluetooth technology.

  First, she had to call James.

  She took a deep breath of the chilly evening air, wrinkling her nose against the last vestiges of antiseptic smell that wanted to cling to her olfactory glands. Her truck door creaked as she wrenched it open. The truck was only two years old but already had almost two hundred thousand miles on it, thanks to the demands of her job.

  Today's emergency call had come just as she'd been leaving Carrie's salon. She'd purposely kept her afternoon free of appointments, but when Jessie had called with news that one of their client's sheep had gotten run over by a tractor wheel, Sarah had gone into rescue mode and forgotten about everything else. As usual.

  James answered his phone with a distracted, "Yeah?"

  "Hey, honey!" she said in her cheeriest voice, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she shifted the truck into reverse.

  "Sarah."

  He was mad.

  She exhaled a sigh. She'd ruined their evening together, one they'd been planning for several weeks. But she couldn't just let the ram die.

  "I'm so sorry. Where are you?" she asked. "My house? I can be there in about ten minutes—"

  "Slow down. What are you talking about?"

  Through the connection, she could tell he'd gone from distraction to attention. But his question...

  "Our date night?" she prompted. The one we've been planning for weeks...

  He groaned. "Oh, no."

  "You forgot," she whispered. She kicked the truck into park and slumped in the driver's seat of her pickup, suddenly drained from the adrenaline and intensity of the afternoon. At this time of night, the parking lot was empty except for Jessie's truck, and no one cared that she was half-in and half-out of the parking spot.

  "Sarah, I'm sorry."

  "It's okay. I just..." She didn't want to sound petulant. James was working hard toward a partnership in the Austin firm where he was an attorney. He was doing it for them. "Actually, I just got out of an emergency surgery. A ram got run over and suffered from internal bleeding—"

  "You can tell me all about it later, babe. I'm right in the middle of a deposition, and I've got to go."

  "Okay—"

  She looked down at her phone. Had he hung up on her? She tapped the screen. It showed the call's duration and that it had ended, but it was impossible to tell whether the call had dropped or if he'd hung up on her. No, he wouldn't have, even if he'd been in the middle of something important.

  They loved each other. They were getting married next summer.

  And she could forgive him for being a slave to his job, right? She'd joined the country practice as partner two years ago, and she barely had time to eat, herself.

  Since James wasn't in town waiting on her—was, in fact, a good eight hours away—she climbed out of her truck and returned to the clinic.

  Her assistant Jessie looked up from their back office computer, where she was no doubt writing up the report from the surgery where she'd acted as nurse.

  "He cancelled?"

  Sarah shrugged off the slight judgment in her coworker's statement. "Turns out I don't need you to stay and observe the patient. Go on home to Rex."

  "You need a vacation," the very pregnant Jessie muttered, but she didn't protest as Sarah nudged her out from in front of the computer.

  Sarah barely registered her leaving as she input every detail she could remember from the surgery. Her professors had lectured often on how important it was to record every detail. Sometimes one tiny factor could affect an animal's recovery, and it was important to have all the data at hand.

  Almost an hour later—after she'd raided the fridge in the tiny break room and scarfed down a questionable piece of leftover quiche—she returned to the large surgery room to check on the ram.

  He was still sleeping off the anesthetic.

  She moved closer, cautiously. Out of habit, she plugged her stethoscope into her ears and listened to his breathing and heartbeat.

  He was resting, which was what she wanted. She eyed the bandages he wore over his hip and leg. No blood was showing through, and she wouldn't check beneath the bandages until the morning.

  As she stood, she looked around the large surgical room. She loved this country practice, loved the fact that they had a surgery room for her large-animal patients.

  What would it be like when she moved to Austin and began to practice there? This year was slipping away—it was almost Christmas. Next summer would soon be upon her.

  Anxiety twisted in her stomach.

  James was pressing her to change her specialty to small animals. Certainly it was more lucrative because she could see more patients in a day—often her house calls to farms and ranches ate up time. But she didn't love working with small animals. Maybe that would change, in time.

  James was in Austin. That was the important thing, wasn't it?

  So far, she hadn't had any luck finding a replacement for herself, but she remained determined to do so. She knew what it felt like to be abandoned, and she wasn't going to do that to the three other vets she now counted as friends.

  Chapter 2

  By the time Carrie had helped with Scarlett's homework—why did first graders have to do so much reading, anyway?—fed them both dinner, gotten Scarlett in bed, delivered a necessary cup of water, cleaned up the day's dishes, and laid out clothes for both of them for tomorrow, she'd run out of procrastination.

  It was late, but not that late, so, standing in the kitchen in her bare feet, she dialed Trey's cell.

  "'lo?"

  Hearing his voice over the phone hit low in her belly. She'd forgotten about that. Or maybe blocked it.

  She took a deep breath. "It's Carrie." She sat down at the table, careful of her suddenly weak knees.

  "Yeah, I know."

  Of course he did. "I thought you might've..."

  "Erased you from my phone?" And my life? His silent question judged her.

  She knew he hadn't. Just t
wo months ago, he'd shown up at the hospital when Scarlett had had an asthma attack.

  She played with the half-burned candle in the center of the tabletop, squeezed her eyes closed. She knew he was a good guy. It just couldn't matter.

  "I'd like to know what Scarlett said to you last Saturday."

  He was silent for long enough that her gaze had wandered and she noticed the crumbs in the corner of the room. Then, "It's about a Christmas gift for you. She swore me to secrecy, or I'd tell you more."

  That was a relief. It wasn't anything sinister. Maybe she shouldn't, but she trusted that he was telling her the truth.

  "Can't you give me a hint? Should I be expecting anything in particular?"

  There was an awkwardness in this pause. "I couldn't say."

  Silence descended between them. She stood and paced to the kitchen sink. Outside, it was dark, but the tree in her yard blocked most of the stars from view.

  The silence hurt. Before, when they'd been together, they'd filled hours upon hours with conversation.

  All of that was gone now.

  She gripped the sink, her knuckles turning white. The floor was cold against her bare feet, and the chill seeped to the top of her head. She should’ve brought a sweater from her room.

  Finally, he asked, "Was there anything else?"

  She should leave it alone, but she blurted out, "Did you really quit your job at the Triple H?"

  He sighed softly. "Yeah."

  "Because of what happened with us?"

  "No," his retort came sharply. "Never that."

  "Then what? You loved working there."

  There was a mumble that she couldn't make out, one that sounded like love you more. But when he spoke, it was, "With Matt home now, I'm not needed there."

  She doubted that. Trey had been a part of the Triple H for years, working with her brother Gideon and the foreman Nate. Recently, Gideon had relocated overseas with his wife Alessandra, a European princess, and left Nate with more responsibility. She'd always been jealous of their brotherhood, the camaraderie all the cowboys shared.

  Trey was an integral part of that. She knew he didn't have close family ties; the Triple H had been his family. Why would he give that up?

  "Are you going to move away?"

  She couldn't imagine him being gone.

  "I'm sure I'll be fine wherever I land."

  He would.

  But would she survive without Trey in her life?

  Trey turned off his phone and stuffed his device in his pocket.

  Nate was lying flat on his back on the barn floor beneath an old tractor, tinkering with a wrench. He stuck out his head long enough to give Trey a look, complete with raised brows.

  "You didn't tell her, did you?" Nate slid back beneath the tractor, a clang of metal echoing in the barn.

  "He didn't tell her," Chase agreed. The other cowboy reclined on a stack of hay bales, chewing on a single straw. His hat rested on one knee.

  Winter was always a slower season for the ranch, allowing more time to maintain the equipment and make repairs to the buildings, if needed.

  Which left Matt Hale more time to spend with his fiancé, Kelsey, and left the foreman and cowhand with some downtime to razz Trey. He had an evening shift at the feed store tonight, and Nate had been bugging him to come and get the cats.

  The two barn kittens were maybe three months old, and Trey'd gotten attached to them. So had Scarlett, but Carrie had said she couldn't take both. Scarlett loved those kittens, and he'd promised her he'd find them a good home. The hotel manager had taken pity on him and was allowing him to have them in his room, provided he paid for any damages. Surely someone in town wanted to put two rowdy kittens under the Christmas tree. Right now the kittens were frolicking in one of the empty stalls nearby.

  He shouldn't have stopped to chat with the cowboys, but he’d missed their company. Not their ribbing.

  "She already has enough negative feelings about this place," Trey said, crossing his arms over his chest. "She doesn't need to think she's the reason I'm leaving."

  "She is the reason you're leaving," Chase said.

  Trey shrugged. "She's not all of it."

  The other cowboy raised his brows until they disappeared into his shaggy hairline.

  "You've been chasing her long enough." Nate's voice was muffled from beneath the tractor. Metal clanged again. "It's time. Just wish you didn't have to leave."

  It would be too hard to stay at the Triple H and watch Carrie move on with someone else. And if he was part of the reason she didn't want anything to do with the ranch, he couldn't stand that.

  "Her brothers need to get her back out here," Trey said. "This place is in her blood, even if she doesn't think so."

  Chase chewed on his piece of hay some more. "She's stubborn."

  Not so. She'd been hurt in the past, hurt a lot. Somehow, she hid it from everyone but Trey.

  "You want me to go in and get a haircut?” Chase asked with a slow grin. “Ask her out, too?"

  Trey's stomach rolled over, but he forced a smile. "If you want to." He never should've told the cowboys about Scarlett's request or his idea, but they knew him better than anyone else. They were like brothers.

  He was going to miss them.

  Nate pushed out from beneath the tractor and set the wrench on the dirt floor at his side. He rested his arms on his bent knees. "It's not too late to change your mind."

  Trey nodded. "I'm stubborn too. This is the right thing for both of us."

  Now if only he could believe his own words.

  Chapter 3

  A week after making his promise to Scarlett, Trey had a cardboard box of two scuffling kittens next to him in the cab of his truck. He felt bad leaving them cooped up in the motel room all day—and his wallet was feeling the burn as they'd destroyed two sets of curtains.

  He'd made arrangements with his boss at the feed store to put them in a small crate and hang out with them near the store's front doors today, so hopefully someone would decide to take them home.

  He passed Carrie's little hybrid, parked in her regular spot in front of the salon. That was one thing about living in town. He always knew where she was, because he could always spot her car in the town full of pickups.

  His phone buzzed in his hip pocket, and he pulled into a spot on Main Street to answer. The kittens yowled when the motion of his truck stopped.

  "This is Trey."

  "It's Johnnie Miller."

  "What can I do for ya, Mrs. Mayor?"

  "I'll cut right to the chase. My regular Santa just called in sick, and I'm desperate. I heard you might be looking to pick up some temporary work, and I need you. Taylor Hills needs you."

  He had to chuckle at her desperation. "I'll do it, Ms. Johnnie. Where and when do you need me?"

  "Can you be at the community center in fifteen minutes?"

  He glanced at the cats who'd gone silent. One orange-and-white paw was jutting out of the corner of the box, grasping and clawing at the cardboard. He hated to drop them back at the motel, especially considering what they might destroy in his absence.

  "Can I make it twenty?" he asked.

  She paused. "You'll have a line of children out the door."

  He rang off and only paused a moment before dialing Carrie. "I need a favor," he said when she picked up. "It's for the kids," he rushed on before she could hang up on him.

  Five minutes later, he was in her driveway, walking up to her front door with that cardboard box beneath his arm.

  "Please tell me this isn't the Christmas gift," she said in a mock-whisper, eyeing the box curiously. She was in her sock feet on her front stoop, a knee-length knitted sweater wrapped around her, her arms crossed over her chest. Seeing her, he got that same horse-kick straight to the gut, just like always.

  "It's not." No, he was still working on Scarlett's husband gift. So far his plan was failing. Just thinking about that made him want to grimace, so he focused on the here and now.

  "T
hanks for keeping them for a couple of hours." Hopefully they would be so distracted by Scarlett that they wouldn't destroy any of Carrie's curtains. Or her couch. Or anything else.

  "Scarlett will be thrilled. I hadn't told her yet." She glanced over her shoulder. "I'm a littler surprised you brought them with you to the motel."

  He shrugged, stuffing his empty hands in his jeans’ pockets beneath his coat. "I promised Scarlett I'd find them a good home. Just because I left the Triple H doesn't mean I'm backing out on that."

  Her gaze rested on him for moments too long. He wondered what she was looking for, what she saw. A cowboy without a spread to work? Or something else?

  He passed the box into her arms. Got a kick out of her expression of surprise when the kittens shifted inside, still angling to get out.

  "Speaking of, Nate said you hadn't been out to the place recently. The ranch misses you."

  She snorted, shifting the box in her arms. "The ranch doesn't have human emotions."

  "You sure about that? The land and the property change based on who touches them, who puts time into them. And you're a third owner."

  Her lips tightened into a frown, lines around her mouth showing her distress. "I doubt my absence for all these years has had that big an effect on the place. Gideon and Matt run things just fine."

  He shifted his feet. "Might run even better with you out there, actively involved."

  And when her frown deepened, he knew he'd said enough. He nodded, letting his hat tilt down to cover his eyes from her. "Thanks again."

  He was turning to get back in his truck when she spoke. "I can't believe the mayor roped you in to playing...you know who."

  He hadn't told her about Scarlett's doubt about the man in red and white, but he shrugged again. "It's just an afternoon, and a lot of kids will be disappointed if no one shows."

  He looked back to see that same speculative gaze on her face again.

  "You sure you're okay?" he asked.

  "I think so. You're coming back to get them later, right?"

  He thought about teasing her, but it didn't feel right, not with all the tension still between them. "I'll be back for them."