Something like relief crossed his face, and with a nod, he said, “All right. If you don’t mind.”
He didn’t explain what was going on, and she didn’t ask. They swapped places, and Evie pulled out onto the road again. Soon, they were going freeway speeds, and Carson seemed to relax more and more as they put the miles behind them. The radio stayed low, and Evie barely paid attention.
Every thought was about Carson, and how he was doing. She glanced over at him, and although he seemed to be in his own world, she felt that whatever tension or anxiety he’d experienced had lessened.
When the sign for the turn-off to Prosper came up, Carson seemed to rouse.
“We’re here already?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Evie said, glancing over at him. “I can drive you to your grandad’s place, then walk to mine. It’s not that far.”
“I can drive, no worries,” Carson said.
His voice did sound stronger, more determined.
“Are you sure?” she asked, not wanting to press, but wanting to be sure. Now that they were finally in Prosper, she found she was breathing easier. Having Carson check out like that had been unexpected.
“Thanks, Evie,” he said. “I don’t know what happened back there . . .”
“No worries,” she said. “Like I said, I’m a pro at driving trucks.”
The edge of his mouth lifted as if he wanted to smile, but it was nowhere close to reaching his eyes. “So, where’s the hot hangout in town?”
Evie lifted her chin as she turned onto Main Street. “Well, there’s the diner if you like a good spicy chili. And the barbershop if you’re in need of a trim.”
Carson scrubbed a hand through his hair. “That might be a good idea.”
No, she wanted to tell him. His hair was perfect how it was. Wow, her brain was taking a hard detour.
“And the ice cream parlor,” Evie said. “I mean, it’s probably the last standing ice cream parlor for miles around. Everything now is shakes with fast food, or frozen yogurt shops.”
“I love ice cream.”
Evie smiled and glanced over at Carson. He was looking out the passenger window, and she wondered if he even knew what he’d admitted.
She slowed and stopped at the only traffic light in all of Prosper. As they waited, she pointed to the bar up ahead. “There’s Raccoons, the town social center,” she said. “At least for those twenty-one and over.”
Carson nodded. “The hangout place, huh?”
“For some.” Evie pulled forward with the green light.
“Not you?”
She shrugged. She didn’t really want the questions, so she didn’t elaborate.
“You weren’t drinking when you were with Devon,” Carson said.
Evie stiffened, wondering how much she should say to him. As far as she knew, they’d get to her place, and she wouldn’t see him all week, and possibly ever again. “I don’t really drink.” She felt his gaze on her. Curious.
“Ever?”
“I’ve tried it, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “But it’s not for me, I guess. I don’t want to be one of those girls who gets sloppy, then regrets stuff or can’t remember anything.”
Carson didn’t answer for a moment, but she could feel his gaze on her. What was he thinking? That she was a prude?
“Good for you,” he said at last.
Evie didn’t have to be told that. The light changed, and she pulled forward. “Plus, my brothers would kill me if I became a party girl. Even more so than my parents.”
Carson’s dark brows shot up. “I think I like your brothers.”
Evie scoffed, even though she hadn’t meant to.
And of course, Carson picked up on it. “What?”
“Believe me, three older brothers is enough to drive a girl crazy,” she said. “I only went on one date in high school.”
“You’re kidding me,” Carson said.
“Not kidding.” Evie slowed the truck and turned the final corner leading out to Prosperity Ranch. They’d pass by the old Anderson ranch on the way, which was now apparently owned by Carson’s grandpa.
“We’re almost there,” Evie said, if only to effectively change the subject.
“To your place?”
“We’ll pass by the old Anderson place on the way—the homestead your grandpa bought.”
“Oh, wow.” Carson leaned forward in the seat, his eyes intent on the road. “Just drive to your place, then I’ll take the truck back.”
Fine, that was fine. But . . . what if her family was around? And they met Carson? Evie was already cringing at all the questions that would happen. Of course, they’d be around. They were expecting her to arrive on the bus and text when she got off at the bus stop. But with the delay of the accident, carpooling with Carson had taken about the same amount of time.
She pointed out the turnoff for the old Anderson place, then she took the next road to Prosperity Ranch. Although she’d grown up there, she never failed to appreciate it. The rambler home with a wraparound porch, the circular driveway, and the pristine barn, fields, and small horse arena beyond. Everything was green this time of year.
Carson released a low whistle. “Wow, this place is gorgeous.”
A bubble of pride expanded inside of Evie. “Yeah, my dad is kind of a perfectionist, and he passed it onto my brother Holt. He’s the manager now.”
“They breed horses?” Carson said, obviously noticing the huge barn and the arena just behind it.
“They rehabilitate horses, and they also take on rodeo training,” Evie said.
Carson nodded, his gaze full of appreciation as he took in the surroundings.
Evie’s heart sank when she saw her dad’s truck, her mom’s car, and Holt’s truck all in the wide circular driveway. And just beyond, another truck that Lane drove. So. Everyone was home.
Evie parked a good distance from the other vehicles. “Thanks for the ride, Carson,” she said quickly. “Are you sure I can’t give you some gas money?”
Carson swung his gaze to meet hers. “No. I mean you pretty much drove the whole way.” His tone lowered. “Thanks for that. I don’t know . . .” He sighed.
And just then, the front door opened, and her mom stepped out. She was all dolled up in full makeup, and a yellow blouse and gray slacks. Maybe she’d had a committee meeting today? As she walked to the edge of the porch, she lifted her hand to shade her eyes from the sun.
Evie popped her door before everyone else showed up, but by the time she called hello to her mom and walked around the front of the truck, Holt had come out of the barn.
Holt was her tallest brother, and his brown hair was mostly concealed by his cowboy hat. But his piercing blue eyes took in the scene quickly.
Right. In the quiet countryside, the sound of an approaching truck could be heard by everyone.
And . . . there was Lane, walking from the direction of the arena, her dad right behind him. Lane was a younger version of her mom—blonde hair, blue eyes. And her dad wore his standard outfit of a starched button-down shirt, tan Levi’s, polished boots, a black hat, and his leather belt with a buckle that read “Prosperity Ranch.”
“I thought you were taking the bus?” her mom said, a question in her tone. She came down the steps and reached the walkway just as Carson climbed out of the passenger seat and shut his door. “Who’s this?”
“Mom, this is Carson Hunt,” Evie said, then stepped forward and hugged her.
“Oh, hello,” her mom said, releasing Evie and extending her hand to Carson.
He shook it, and seconds later, Evie was hugging her brothers and dad in turn, then making the same introduction. She stayed quiet as Carson told them about his grandad and the recent purchase of the adjoining homestead.
“Oh, you’re Randy Hunt’s grandson?” her dad said.
“Yes, sir.”
The two began to talk about the Anderson property—well, mostly her dad was talking, and Carson was listening. All the while, her mom kept
glancing at Evie with comical eyes. As if saying, why didn’t you tell me about this guy? Who is he and are you dating?
All questions Evie was sure would be asked as soon as Carson Hunt got into his truck and drove away.
“Are you two hungry?” her mom said, cutting into the men’s conversation, which Lane and Holt had jumped into as well. “I’ve got some fixings for sandwiches, and I’ve made a peach pie. From canned peaches, so not as good as my fresh peach pie.”
Evie held her breath, wondering what Carson would say. She was both relieved and disappointed when he said, “I should get going. Grandad will be expecting me.”
“Sure, sure,” her dad said. “Tell him he’s welcome here anytime.”
“Why don’t the two of you come over for dinner tonight?” her mom chimed in. “Six o’clock work?”
Leave it to her mom to make everyone best friends.
“I’ll, uh, talk to Grandad,” Carson said. “Then I’ll let you know, Mrs. Prosper. I appreciate the offer.”
Well. This was going to be interesting, because her mom’s smile was as wide as the Texan sky. And Holt and Lane were now exclaiming over Carson’s old truck as if it were some sort of collector. Which, it wasn’t.
But Evie refrained from rolling her eyes.
“It’s so good to see you,” her mom said, moving closer and wrapping her arm about her waist. “And what a surprise to show up with such a nice young man.”
“Mom, hush,” Evie hissed. “He’s right there.”
“Oh, those boys aren’t paying us one bit of attention,” she said. “Come on inside and see Ruby. I’m watching her for the afternoon, and she’s taking a nap, but I need to wake her before she messes up her sleeping schedule.”
“Where’s Macie?” Evie asked, following her mom inside.
“She had to get some supplies for her bracelets in the next town over.”
Macie used to be married to her brother Knox—and Ruby was their kid. But their marriage fell apart, and when Macie brought Ruby for an extended visit last summer at Prosperity Ranch, everyone’s world turned upside down.
Because Macie and Holt fell in love.
And now, they were married, happily.
It had been a shock to the whole family, especially her mom, who’d been holding out for a reconciliation for Knox and Macie. But now, even Evie could see that Holt was better suited to Macie.
Her mom stopped at the spare bedroom that was once Cara’s bedroom. A small form was under the covers, her brown curls spilling out over the pillow. Ruby was darling when she was asleep, precocious when awake, and everyone in the family hung on her every adorable word.
Evie walked with her mom across the room and watched as she smoothed Ruby’s hair from her face.
“Ruby, dear,” her mom said in a singsong voice that apparently grandmothers used for their grandchildren. “Time to wake up.”
Ruby stirred, and her eyelids fluttered, but she didn’t wake.
“Guess who’s here?” her mom continued in that sweet tone. “Your Aunt Evie.”
Ruby’s brown eyes snapped open, and an impish grin spread across her face. “Evie!”
Evie laughed and had to brace herself against the bed as Ruby launched herself into her arms.
“How are you, baby?” Evie asked, squeezing her niece tight. She smelled of oranges and . . . milk?
“I’m not a baby!” Ruby exclaimed, pulling back and patting Evie’s cheeks. “I’m four!” Her cheeks were flushed pink from sleep, and her brown curls a wild nest.
“Oh, wow,” Evie said. “How did you get so old?”
Ruby wrinkled her nose.
“You must be a real lady now,” she continued.
Ruby giggled. Then she wrapped her little arms about Evie’s neck in nearly a choke hold. “I missed you,” her niece said.
Evie’s heart swelled, and warmth flooded to her feet. “I missed you, too, little lady.”
Carson found Grandad in the back of the house, with a rake in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and a worn cowboy hat atop his head.
Carson grinned. Grandad hadn’t changed, and likely never would. Carson crossed the patches of stubby grass and reached the edge of what must have been a former garden before Grandad noticed him.
“Hey, Grandad,” he said.
The old guy started, then looked up from where he’d been frowning at a collection of rotted tomato plants.
“Carson!” he said, his smile wide on his leathery face. The man’s brown eyes mirrored his own. “I was wondering when in the Sam you’d get here.”
Carson chuckled. When his grandad took over raising Carson and Rhett, he’d curbed his cursing. So instead of saying “Sam hell” he started saying “Sam.” The habit had stuck ever since.
“I told you I’d be here by lunchtime.”
Grandad perched the rake against his hip, then swept off his hat and scratched at his few wisps of remaining hair, somehow managing not to singe his head with his cigarette.
They weren’t really a hugging family, but Grandad’s grin was like the strongest hug Carson could ever get.
“So, what? You expecting me to feed you now?” Grandad said with a chortle.
“Do I need to rake this mess of a garden before I earn my food?” Carson teased.
“I think I can scrape something up.” Grandad plunked his hat back on. “A boy like you needs something in his belly.”
Carson and his brother had always been “boys” to Grandad.
“I have a feeling that I’m going to be doing all the cooking this week,” Carson said.
“Yep, you’re right.” Grandad headed toward the back of the house, which had seen better days—much, much better days. “That’s why I taught you to cook, boy. I’m in my payback years. Collecting on all the time I spent on you boys.”
Carson clapped a hand on his grandad’s bony shoulder. “We’ll count today as day one then.”
Grandad stomped his boots on the back patio, which needed a good sweeping, then propped the rake against the wall of the house. Carson glanced around before following him into the house. Cracked planters lined the patio, as if someone had once had this place decorated with flowering plants. Beyond the rotted garden was about two acres of field. Edging the property was a brown, splintered fence that served as an ineffective barrier to any horse, or cow.
Carson stepped inside the dim interior of the home.
The place smelled musty, and his first impression was that the whole house probably needed to be gutted. New carpet, new paint, even new counters and cupboards in the kitchen were needed. The musty smell likely came from the well-worn carpet and the threadbare couch and overstuffed chair.
“Come on in, don’t be shy,” Grandad said, moving about the kitchen after turning on an overhead fluorescent light that washed everything a dull yellow.
Well, the countertops and the linoleum were, in fact, technically yellow.
“Are you thinking of getting any animals?” Carson asked.
“Maybe a horse, but that’s all I can care for by myself until you get here,” Grandad said. “I’ve got to get that garden into shape before summer hits and it’s too late to grow.”
Carson perched on a rickety stool, knowing from experience not to get in Grandad’s way when he was in the kitchen. It was either Grandad or Carson who prepared meals, not both together. So he watched Grandad move about, opening cupboards, pulling out two cans of chili, then a box of soda crackers from another cupboard.
Carson thought about the chili Evie had mentioned from the diner on Main Street. He wasn’t picky though, especially when he was hungry.
As Grandad warmed up the chili in a cooking pot, he said, “After we eat, I’ll give you a tour of the place, then we’ll head over to the rodeo. I’ll go through my plans for the arena and see what you think. See if you can use that education of yours to give me some pointers as well.”
“All right,” Carson said. “What about this house? Got any plans to, uh, fix it up?”
Grandad chuckled as he stirred the now bubbling chili. “That’s what you’re for, boy. You’re young and strong and here for a week. Don’t be thinking you’re going to be taking long naps and watching the telly.”
Carson scoffed. “Do you even have a TV?”
Grandad used the wooden spoon he was stirring with to point to the far side of the room, where a wide, flat box was propped against the wall. “Right there, son. And you’re gonna install it. Don’t think I’m going to live here in the dark ages.”
Carson laughed. “You’re still hooked on Law and Order, aren’t you?”
“They’ve got the reruns on cable,” Grandad said. “I already paid for the service; I just need you to hook everything up.”
“You know, the cable company can do that for you.”
“Not when my boy’s coming in town.”
Right . . .
“Lunch is ready,” Grandad announced, pouring two even bowls of the bubbling chili. Then he proceeded to crush the soda crackers over the top like a garnish.
Carson dug in. It wasn’t bad for canned chili, and although he didn’t add Tabasco sauce like Grandad did, it hit the spot.
“Oh, hey, I almost forgot. Mrs. Prosper invited us for dinner tonight. I said I’d talk to you first.”
Grandad’s brow wrinkled. “How did that invitation come about?”
So Carson told him the basics of giving Evie Prosper a ride.
“Evie? I haven’t met her. I met the other sister, Cara or something, and she’s not your type.”
Carson almost choked on his current spoonful of chili. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m not looking for a girlfriend, Grandad.”
Grandad set down his spoon, then took a long swig from his water glass. “It’s been two years, son. You haven’t dated anyone since Stacee.”
Carson blinked. Grandad had never mentioned Stacee before, at least not since they broke up after Rhett died. He didn’t realize it was something Grandad had been thinking about.
“How do you know I haven’t been dating?” Carson asked, feeling a bit defensive.
Grandad’s brown eyes had lost all their twinkle. “I know you better than you think, boy. It’s in your demeanor when I see you, your tone when we talk on the phone.”
Steal My Heart (Prosperity Ranch Book 2) Page 5
