The Cowboy’s Pregnant Sweetheart (McCall Ranch Brothers Book 3) Page 4

  “Okay,” Devon answered, his eyes roaming around the riding area, his arms wrapped tightly around his slim frame as if he felt the need to protect himself.

  “And you’re right,” Carson continued, although he couldn’t help hating the words that were coming out of his mouth. He’d pulled a lot of stupid stunts in his lifetime, but he had the feeling he was about to pull the worst one yet. He continued doggedly, “Riding with you is the next step. And, if I’m being honest, it’s past time for me to get back in the saddle—like I told you to do that time you fell.” He stopped, then asked, “Will you still let me ride with you?”

  Devon remained silent. As Carson watched his face, holding his breath, the boy slowly nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching with the beginnings of another shy smile. Carson nodded, too, though his heart was hammering in his chest as he rose and moved toward the nearest stall.

  He chose an older mare, one he knew wasn't likely to spook for no reason and buck him off. He gave himself a half-hearted pep talk as he saddled and bridled her, trying to convince himself that he could do this with no problem.

  Still, as he led the beast closer to where Devon and Karen waited, he had a pretty good idea that it wasn't going to make any difference. The boot on his foot might as well have been an anchor, as far as getting himself into the saddle was concerned. It didn’t take long to confirm his suspicions.

  He knew he could get his good foot into the stirrup with no problem, but how was he supposed to get to that point? He couldn’t put his weight on his injured leg long enough to lift his foot, let alone push off to swing up and over into the saddle.

  He was tempted to give it a try anyway. The last thing he wanted to do was tell Devon that he was going to renege on his promise, and he was far from a fan of admitting that he needed help, especially in front of Karen. In the end, though, he had no choice, and they all knew it. He cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to find her already watching him and waiting for the question to come.

  “Hey, Karen,” he said, maybe more gruffly than strictly necessary. “I think I’m going to need a little help here. You game?”

  “Sure, McCall,” she said tenderly, her eyes sparkling in the dim light of the riding arena. “I think I can handle that.”

  “Good,” Carson said, eyeing the cane leaning up against the wall with the kind of longing he had once reserved for a beautiful girl or a fast ride in a cool car. “I mean, thanks. Appreciate ya.”

  “Sure,” Karen said again, a flicker of amusement in her eyes as she approached.

  It was only due to her grace that she didn't come right out and laugh at him, something his bruised ego silently thanked her for. It wasn't his need for help that had her smirking, either. He would have been willing to put money on that. Some things didn't change. As far as he was concerned, a world where Karen was mean for cruelty’s sake simply didn’t exist.

  No, she was laughing because he was making it sound as if he was doing her a favor, letting her help him onto his horse. He’d pulled that kind of stunt all the time when they were younger and presumably dumber. It had pissed her off to no end when they were dating, but she seemed to have a sense of humor about it now. Maybe she’d matured.

  At least that made one of them.

  “Hey, Karen,” he mumbled, looking at his horse instead of at the target of his apology and wishing he could sink into the floor and disappear. “Look, I—”

  “Save it, McCall,” she laughed, rolling her eyes and moving to his side. “How’s about we get you on the horse and get this show on the road?”

  5

  At first, it had struck Karen as funny, having to help Carson with such a basic thing as mounting a horse. Growing up, people in Winding Creek had been fond of saying that the McCall brothers had learned to ride before they’d learned to walk. The last thing on the planet she'd ever expected to be doing was help him with anything remotely related to horses. She’d be lying to herself if she didn't see a certain poetic justice in the whole thing.

  Except that now, it wasn't feeling quite so funny anymore, and she was wondering if she had made a serious mistake. She went back and forth about whether pairing Carson with Devon was her best or her worst idea about a hundred times a day, and she was still no closer to landing on an answer. It certainly didn’t help that her sister, Kelly, took every chance she got to remind her of the way Carson had left her behind in the dust.

  The lessons were good for Devon; she honestly believed that, or she would have called a halt. While she could talk to the judge about having Carson fulfill the rest of his hours some other way, she hadn't once been tempted to do that. What she wasn't so sure about was whether it was good for her to be spending so much time around Carson. Memories could be dangerous, and hers were starting to feel a bit too real, too threatening, for comfort.

  "Stop it," she hissed as she eased her battered truck into Kelly’s snow-covered driveway. "If you're thinking about him too much, then just stop. Problem solved."

  Except that fell squarely into the category of easier said than done. Especially when it came to Carson McCall. She had spent years telling herself not to think about Carson—with varying degrees of success. She typically had an almost preternaturally strong level of control over herself, something she prided herself on. It was a thorn in her side not to be able to say the same about matters of the heart.

  It buzzed in her mind like an itch she couldn't quite scratch, and she muttered to herself about it all the way up Kelly’s front walk. It wasn't until she knocked and her sister answered the front door that she realized how obvious her annoyance was.

  “Um, hey, lady,” Kelly said, eyebrows raised. “What’s going on?”

  “What?” Karen asked, shaking her head to clear the image of Carson’s face. “Oh, nothing. I’m here to pick up Devon for his lesson.”

  “Okay…” Kelly said with a little chuckle, her breath making little white clouds in the air.

  “Why?” Karen asked, suddenly unsure of herself. She shifted anxiously from one foot to the other. “Did I get the wrong day? It’s Saturday, right?”

  “You didn’t get the day wrong,” Kelly said, moving aside so that Karen could step into the almost overly warm entryway. “So no worries there,” she eyed Karen closely, “but do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  "What do you mean?" Karen asked. Her face was growing hotter by the second, and she didn't think it was only due to the efficiency of Kelly’s heater. Kelly had always had a big sister’s uncanny ability to read her thoughts, or at the very least, her moods. Usually, it made Karen feel loved to be known so well, but at the moment, she wasn't all that interested in being read.

  "Nope," Kelly laughed, shaking her head. "No way. You don't have to tell me what's on your mind, but if you think I'm going to fall for the innocent act, you've got another thing coming. I've known you all your life, remember?"

  “It’s nothing,” Karen said, unsure whether she was trying to convince Kelly or herself. “Seriously. It’s just been weird spending so much time with Carson.”

  “Um, yeah, how could it not be?” Kelly muttered, motioning for Karen to take a seat while they waited for Devon to finish getting ready.

  Karen’s nephew had specific ways of doing things—almost rituals—and while some people might have found the amount of time they consumed to be annoying, Karen understood that this was his way to make sense of the world. Far be it from her to mess with something like that. Though now in her twenties, she still didn't know how to accomplish that kind of order in her life half of the time.

  “It’s really no big deal,” she said, pressing her hands tightly between her knees to keep them from twisting nervously. “It’s an adjustment, that’s all.”

  "I bet," Kelly said earnestly, wrinkling her nose. Devon had inherited his mother’s nose, sporting almost as many freckles, and Karen felt a pang of longing at the resemblance. It had been a while since she’d thought about having children, but lately, the idea had be
en on her mind. Seeing Kelly and Devon always made that desire more acute. In any event, she was doing her best to ignore any possible connection this renewed baby fever might have to Carson's appearance in her life. She had no interest in opening that particular Pandora's box.

  She could see that Kelly had more to say, but before she got a chance, Devon came clomping down the stairs and the conversation was mercifully put to rest. Kelly and Karen bundled him up and led him out to Karen’s truck, making oddly awkward small talk as they went. Devon was lost in whatever he was listening to on his earbuds.

  Karen and Devon rode to the McCall ranch in silence, but that was actually fairly typical. Devon stared out the window at a world only he could see. Karen gave herself a silent pep talk for the lesson ahead.

  “Just don’t tell him what to do, for God’s sake,” she murmured to herself, cutting a sideways glance at Devon to see if he had heard. She was grateful to see his earbuds firmly in place. Devon might be unusually kind and sensitive, but talking to herself was likely to earn her curious glances all the same.

  Internal or not, it was good advice that she should have been taking more to heart over the last week. She didn't like to think of herself as meddlesome—she supposed nobody did—but she knew she had a habit of giving unsolicited advice. What she liked to think of as helping, Carson considered interfering, and had done so, even back in their high school days. Here she was again. Somehow, she had gotten it into her head to try and help him without his asking.

  She doubted he was as likely to call her on it now, but that didn't mean he accepted it. He'd made that clear enough already, in everything he did—from his grumbles to the looks he gave her when he thought she wasn't listening to the set of his jaw when he managed to keep from saying something sarcastic. He was trying, God love him, but he was still the same old Carson she’d known.

  “Okay,” she whispered as she guided her truck in to park beside Carson’s family home. The sound of the wind whistling through the trees when she turned off the engine made her shiver. “Here we go.”

  As always, Carson was already standing on the front porch, his hat dipped low over one eye, peering into the distance at something she couldn’t see. Even with the cane gripped tightly in one hand, he painted an impressive picture—the kind of man women hoped to find when they went in search of their very own Marlboro Man.

  She hated the way her heart fluttered when she saw him, even after all these years. She had told herself when she’d first cooked up this crazy plan that she could keep the past in the past where it belonged. Now, after spending time with Carson again, she didn’t know if anything but distance was ever going to keep her safe, and here she’d made it all but impossible to maintain that.

  "Hey, there," Carson called, raising a hand in greeting. His wince of pain was brief, and he hid it well, but Karen caught it all the same, and her heart ached with sympathy. It had to be hard for him when he was used to being so active. Knowing Carson, the fact that simply lifting his arm too quickly was hell on his ribs had to be killing him.

  Still, she put a smile on her face and raised her own hand to wave hello. “Sorry, are we late?” she called. The greeting had turned into something of a running joke. They both knew she was never late and he was always outside waiting because he didn’t know where to put his nerves. It was simply another thing they never spoke aloud, a new entry on an impressively long list.

  “Oh, sure,” he chuckled, easing himself down the stairs at an agonizingly slow pace. “You’re always late.”

  “I know, right?” she said coyly, blushing without fully understanding why. “It’s actually a goal of mine. I’ll see if I can be a little later next time.”

  Carson grinned, and for a moment, she was sixteen again. She had done this before, lived this before, and her body responded as if the last half decade hadn't happened. Her adrenal glands didn't seem to realize that she and Carson hadn't been an item for a long time now. Part of her still wanted him, and the logistics didn't seem to matter at all.

  “All right, well, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his eyes still twinkling with merriment. “But for now, we’d best head over to the arena and say hello to the horses, don’t you think? We’ve got a big afternoon ahead of us.”

  Despite having taken his earbuds out when they arrived, this was the first thing that made Devon perk up and take notice. The difference was subtle, something most people likely wouldn’t have noticed, but Karen saw it and smiled to herself, nodding. This was exactly the kind of moment she needed to remember when she started to let this strange new situation with Carson mess with her head. It was doing good for Devon.

  “A big afternoon?” she repeated, laying her hand on Devon’s shoulder as they waited for Carson to get all the way down the stairs and a little ahead of them on the way to the arena. “Okay, I’m not going to lie, that worries me a bit.”

  “But why?” Devon asked, glancing nervously in her direction as they walked. “Are we okay?”

  "Of course, we are," she said quickly, mentally cursing herself for her flippancy though she kept a bright grin in place. "I was just being silly. You're in great hands with Carson, as we all know."

  “That’s right,” Carson agreed, moving to put a hand on the boy’s back and then pulling it away without making contact. Carson was the kind of guy who showed his affection physically, and Karen could see that the adjustment to Devon’s way of doing things was taking him some getting used to. Seeing him put in the effort touched her more than she wanted to admit.

  Then, when they made it inside the riding arena, she got the feeling that something was different about today, though it took her a couple of seconds to put her finger on what it was.

  She glanced at Carson curiously. “Three?” she asked, nodding toward the trio of horses saddled and ready to go. “Why three? What’s going on, Carson?”

  “What’s going on is I think it’s time for the three of us to do some actual riding. How does that sound to you guys?”

  Karen's eyes flitted in Devon's direction, and she could see that the boy was completely thrilled by the idea. She herself was less sure. On the one hand, she would do almost anything to make Devon happy. His life wasn't always the easiest, and she loved him dearly. There wasn't a lot she wouldn't do to see his face light up as brilliantly as it was now.

  On the other hand, though, the idea of letting go of the proverbial reins had her virtually terrified. Devon was basically Kelly's whole world, and the idea that anything serious might happen to him on Karen's watch left her feeling breathless and sick to her stomach. Up to this point, the lessons had consisted of Carson going through demonstrations with his prized animals and managing as best he could on his own horse. She even knew they’d eventually progress to Devon riding solo, without a lead rope, of course. She'd been the one to set this whole situation up, but now, she couldn't help worrying that something might go wrong.

  "Come on, Karen," Carson said, almost pleading, barely above a whisper. "It’s time. Devon’s made real progress, and he’s ready. It’ll be fine, I promise.” He cocked a thoughtful eye at her. “I thought that was why you wanted me for this gig in the first place."

  Karen tried to ignore the way the hairs on the back of her neck stood up when he was standing so close. She’d forgotten how much she loved his scent. Not cologne or anything fancy —him. She bit the inside of her cheek, hard, and made herself meet his gaze. He deserved that, at the very least. Especially because what he was saying was true.

  “Yes!” she said brightly, loud enough for Devon to hear. “It sounds great. Just so long as the two of you keep me safe, though, okay? Because I don’t know if you know this, Devon, but I’m not exactly a natural when it comes to riding.”

  “Don’t worry,” Carson said with a grin and a conspiratorial wink at Devon. “We’ll keep you safe.”

  It was unforgivably corny, but it made her feel better all the same, and she couldn't help a touch of giddiness as she first helped Devon and Ca
rson onto their mounts and then got onto her own. Carson had arranged the horses so that the adults basically sandwiched Devon's horse between theirs. “Ready?” Carson called with a grin, looking from one to the other of his companions.

  “Yep!” Devon returned, his smile lighting up his face.

  “Oh, yeah,” Karen added her emphatic assent, her heart feeling lighter as the butterflies in her middle started to dissipate.

  Carson nudged his mount slightly ahead of the others, holding the placid old gelding’s lead rope so that Devon could feel independent but still be safe, and the three riders left the arena for the first time since the riding lessons had begun.

  It was perfect, like moments in time Karen had previously experienced, fleeting and rare, when everything felt exactly as it was supposed to. Devon didn't say much, but she could tell he was happy, and that made her so pleased, she could cry.

  Add to that the fact that she was on a ride with Carson. She didn't want it to matter, but she wasn't quite good enough at lying to herself. Once upon a time, being by his side would have been her first choice out of any other option she could imagine. She hadn't been in that place for a long time now, but it was terrifying how easy it was to fall back into that headspace. She was vulnerable, and she knew it, and it didn’t help that Carson had apparently decided to use this ride as the time to start talking to her again like old times.

  “I love this place, you know?” he said, seemingly out of nowhere, his face turned toward the trees slowly passing them by. “This land. No matter where I go, it’s always a part of me. It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

  “Seriously?” she asked, ridiculously offended at the suggestion that she would be so callous as to agree but intent on keeping that to herself. “It doesn’t sound stupid at all! I would think it strange if you felt any other way.”