Three river ranch, p.9
Three River Ranch, page 9
They’d arrived at the driveway to the ranch and Carson slowed as he approached the turn. He pulled to a stop, and the truck rocked gently as the engine shut down. He turned to face her.
“Rory, you might be a lot of things, but none of them are bad.” His own voice was raspy, and he swallowed to clear it. “You tried to make your relationship work. It didn’t. You gave David a chance to be a father. He didn’t want it. You’ve started a new life for yourself and, okay, maybe it hasn’t been exactly what you’d pictured so far. But it’ll turn out. You’ll see. Your friend, Des, does she think you’re a disaster at relationships?”
Rory laughed shakily at that. “Well, Des isn’t exactly unbiased. She wanted to hire someone to bust David’s kneecaps. But it’s different, you know? I loved him, and then I hated him, and now, I’m mad and sad and scared, all mixed-up. I could demand paternity testing to get money from him, but right now, I’m just grateful that I get to have this little miracle all to myself. Weird, huh?”
“You’re protecting your kid from his asshole father. You know what that makes you in my book?”
She glanced up at him, moisture sparkling on her cheeks. “What?”
“A survivor. A tough mama-bear.”
“Yeah, well, Mama Bear’s gonna need a reliable income eventually.” She laughed again, but this time her voice was steadier. “A Papa Bear and a den would be great, too, but I’d rather raise Junior on mac and cheese than end up with someone like David.”
Carson didn’t think he’d met anyone with more strength and courage than the small woman sitting next to him, even if she didn’t realize it herself.
Jonah’s words came back to him: Rory would be the perfect solution to his problem. And on her own, maybe she was pragmatic enough to consider it. But she wouldn’t do anything that had the potential to harm her child.
Nor would he, he realized. Every child deserved loving parents. Not a pair of screwed-up people who married for money.
“Okay,” he ventured after a lengthy but not uncomfortable silence. “So let’s talk about something else. I think we’ve had enough heavy stuff for one night.”
Rory angled her head to his, a smile teasing her lips. “You know my dirty little secrets. Maybe it’s my turn to hear about yours?”
“And ruin a perfectly fine evening? I don’t think so.” Carson looked sideways at her. The marriage clause was more than a little secret. He cleared his throat. “How about this? You mentioned you might like to learn about horses. If you’re serious, I could teach you.”
“Um. No.” She laughed, nervously. “But thanks.”
“Come on. No riding, just getting to know them. My horses are bombproof. What do you say?” He helped her out of the truck, holding her hand perhaps a moment longer than necessary.
Rory turned toward him. Starlight glowed on the planes of her face, glinting on her eyes, shadowing her expression. “You think it’s a good idea? Won’t they know I’m scared?”
Her voice was filled with uncertainty, but underneath, Carson thought he detected a note of excitement.
“Your dog, has she ever bitten anyone?”
“Of course not!”
“How does she react to a kid who isn’t comfortable around dogs?”
“Well.” Rory paused for a minute. “She’s…casual. And calm. She doesn’t push herself onto anyone, but she doesn’t let them push her away, either.”
“So, she knows how to act, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Come with me for a few minutes.”
“Don’t you have an early meeting tomorrow?”
“Five minutes won’t make a difference.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the corral. “I’ve got three mares, Juno, Ruby, and Penny. Juno’s my cutting horse. Quarter horse and Appaloosa, tough as nails. She can read a steer, predict exactly where he’s going to go, cut him out of the herd, and hold him. She expects as much of me as I do of her.”
Rory shuddered.
“Don’t worry,” he said, seeing her reaction. “She’s not a horse for beginners.”
He pointed to the shapes outlined by moonlight against the black hillside. “Ruby, that’s her at the back. You can’t tell now, but she’s a gorgeous red roan.” He smiled. “She’s pure quarter horse, a broodmare. Thrown some nice foals, that girl. And she raises them like an Irish mammy, not above a good smack when they need it. At fifteen, she’s done with babies, but I don’t want to sell her. She’s a nice pleasure horse, but not for beginners, either. She doesn’t suffer fools gladly, that girl.”
“You’re not doing much of a sales job, you know.”
“Ah, but Penny.” He clucked softly and footsteps sounded on the grassy ground along the rail fence. He rummaged in his pocket, pulled out the mints they’d been given with their bill at the restaurant. “She’s got a sweet tooth, this one.”
The horse gave a low whuffle, nudging Carson’s arm as he unwrapped the candy. Carson took her hand.
“Here. Hold it out to her.”
Rory pulled back. “No. I can’t.”
He kept his palm on hers, without pulling. Waiting. “There’s a picture somewhere of me on Penny’s mother, Copper, before I could even walk. My mom held me from the other side, so it looked like I was sitting on her all by myself. Once, when I was about five, I took Copper out when I wasn’t supposed to, and I got lost. I was so scared, I dropped the reins, but that old girl knew exactly where we were. She got us home. At one point, I fell off, and she walked beside me, pointing me in the right direction. My mother nearly killed me. Copper was the best horse for beginners of any age. And Penny’s just like her.”
While he was talking, Carson had gradually opened Rory’s fingers, peeling them apart one by one. Now he placed the mint on her open palm.
“The point I’m making,” he said, “is that Penny is one of the kindest, wisest horses I’ve ever known. She wouldn’t hurt anyone and she knows when someone is afraid. She doesn’t move too fast anymore, either. If you wanted to try riding, eventually, Penny is the one I’d put you on. And you’d love it. Guaranteed.”
He pulled her hand forward, showing her how to keep her palm flat while the horse nuzzled the candy, picking it off delicately with her whiskery lips. Rory laughed.
“You see?” said Carson.
“It tickles.” She laughed as Penny crunched the treat loudly. “And I didn’t even feel her teeth.”
Reluctantly, Carson dropped Rory’s hand. He’d taught a lot of green riders over the years but never before had he introduced someone who had absolutely no experience. But instead of it being a chore, he found himself looking forward to it.
…
Rory had her first and only pony ride at the age of five, the fright at which had caused her to wet her pants. It was not something she wished to reveal to Carson. But she did want to overcome the irrational fear that had dogged her ever since.
I’m stuck here anyway, she reminded herself. Might as well have something to show for it once I’m gone.
“We should go in,” Carson said, touching her lightly on the back. “It’s getting late.”
Rory’s breath caught in her throat as heat traveled down her body, sparked from his fingertips.
“What?” Carson asked.
More heat flooded her face and Rory was grateful for the cover of twilight. She turned, pulled her wrap closer over her shoulders…
And promptly caught her heel on a root. She would have stumbled, but Carson caught her around her ribs, perilously near her breasts, the thin silk sliding away, allowing his warm fingers onto her skin. Muscular thighs held her in balance and for a moment, they stood locked together.
Rory’s pulse thudded in her ears as the heat from his hands spread across her body. She remembered the scene in his bedroom, when she brought him his coffee. The image of his bare chest was burned into her memory, the feel of that golden skin imprinted on her palms. Right now, her hands pressed against the same flesh, a soft layer of brushed cotton all that stood between them. His warm, male scent filled her nostrils, intoxicating with its intimacy.
Damn her clumsiness! Would they ever have a moment that didn’t involve her falling down?
And why was she even thinking of such a moment? Did she want one? Did she want to hold Carson in her arms, deliberately, by choice, a mutual embrace unmarred by tripping, spilled liquids, bloodletting, or other crises?
“Sorry,” she muttered, pulling herself upright and away from him. She looked down and straightened her dress where his hands had pulled it askew. “Not watching where I’m going.”
But Carson kept his hand on her elbow. “You okay? Truth, now.”
His voice was low and full of concern. His empathy caught her off guard and tears sprang to the surface again. She bit them back, turned her face away from his, and gently tucked her arm against her body.
“We should get back to the house.” Even to her own ears, her voice was husky. She did not want to weaken any further in front of this man. As soon as she sorted herself out, had the baby, recovered from David, she’d pick up the pieces of her life somewhere civilized. She and Carson would be nothing but footnotes in a small chunk of each other’s lives.
“Rory,” he said with alarm. “Did I really scare you with Penny? I didn’t mean—”
“Carson, no.” She sniffled loudly. “Penny’s lovely. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I can usually keep things under wraps better than this. I haven’t talked about Lesley in a long time, I guess. It kind of…set me off.”
“Rory,” he said, stroking her hair lightly. The way he said her name, quiet and slow, as if he loved the feel of it on his tongue, as if he wanted nothing more than to savor it fully, to unlock the essence of who she was from this identifying label, undid her entirely.
“I don’t presume to understand you,” Carson continued. “But I can tell you’re a complicated woman with a lot to deal with. It’s a big deal, losing a sister, especially the way you did.”
“And you know what most people said?” Rory looked up at him and in the moonlight, she could see tenderness reflecting in his eyes. “They said that it was a blessing in disguise. Or that now we could get back to ‘normal.’”
Carson made a sound of disgust.
“As if Lesley was a…a curse. A cross to bear. And I’m not saying it wasn’t hard, but they didn’t seem to understand that we loved her! Everything we went through because of her, it just made me love her more, you know? And I had to watch her die. And now I’m afraid of—”
She stopped, suddenly aware of saying too much, too quickly.
“Can open?” Carson said, smiling gently. “Worms everywhere?”
“Yeah,” Rory admitted, wiping her face. “Sorry.”
They reached the house then, and Carson swung around to face her, the harsh yard-light illuminating his expression. “Don’t apologize for loving someone.”
The urgency and sudden sternness in his words took her aback. But something told her that he wasn’t speaking from anger, but from his own buried grief.
“You’re right,” she said softly. “A person should never be sorry for loving someone. Only for not loving someone.”
She put her hand on the side of his face. At her touch, he closed his eyes, but it was too late. Her own vulnerability had elicited something similar in him, and she’d caught a glimpse of it. She lifted her face to his, and as he was bending down, she could almost taste his lips. She felt his breath against her skin. She needed his touch. But just before they made contact, she felt that peculiar jolt. Pain. Fear.
“Oh God.” She pulled away. “Mistral!”
“Good thing I dropped in,” Bliss said as they ran into the room. “Poor lamb, I couldn’t leave her to wait for you, all by her lonesome. Then you stood outside canoodling like a couple of teenagers.”
“We weren’t—” protested Rory. She tried to cover her embarrassment by leaning over Mistral, who lay on her side in the whelping box, panting heavily.
“Never mind, I saw what I saw.” Bliss crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got rhubarb pies to make tomorrow. I don’t have time to chaperone you two.”
“Bliss—” she tried again, but the woman waved her off.
“Looks like we’re in business,” Carson said, dropping his keys on the shelf by the door.
“You look after them, Carson, you hear me?” Bliss glared at him, but pecked him soundly on the cheek before stomping out of the guesthouse.
“It’s started for real now, isn’t it?” said Rory, keeping her voice low. She put a hand on the dog’s head, crooning softly, and Mistral flopped her tail in response.
“Any puppies yet?”
She shook her head. Carson took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Ten
“We should call the vet. Don’t you think we should call the vet? I think we should call the vet.”
Carson put a hand on Rory’s arm. “Hey, settle down. She’s doing fine.”
“You don’t know that!” Rory pulled her arm back, then ran both hands through her hair, making it stand on end. “She’s never done this before. I’ve never done this before. We don’t know what we’re doing. And she’s been in active labor since we got home. Two hours ago! Shouldn’t there be a puppy by now?”
“You’re the dog breeder,” Carson said. “You’ve read the books. You tell me.”
“Okay.” Rory closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re right. I can do this. It’ll be okay. Oh.” Her eyes flew open. She put a hand lightly on Mistral’s side.
“What?” Carson couldn’t see anything different about the dog, still panting and straining.
“Here it comes,” she breathed. “Oh, good girl, my sweet girl. You’re doing it.”
To Carson’s amazement, as Rory spoke soothingly to the dog, Mistral gathered herself together, pushed mightily, and suddenly, a tiny, wet, slippery golden mass lay on the blanket with her.
With sure, gentle hands, Rory gathered the puppy in a clean towel and began wiping its face clean.
“Pass me that bulb syringe.” She held out her hand without taking her eyes off the pup, and proceeded to suction its mouth and nose. Suddenly, the small creature reared back in her hand and emitted a squeak. Mistral, sitting up now, nosed anxiously at the bundle.
“It’s your first baby, sweetheart,” Rory said, handing the infant over to its mother for a first bath. They watched as Mistral licked the puppy thoroughly from one end to the other, then nudged it toward her flank.
“You see that?” Rory’s voice was hushed, as if she were watching a holy event. “She knows exactly what to do. It’s amazing.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Carson agreed. He couldn’t leave Rory alone. He knew she’d stay up until it was over and everyone was fine. Plus, he was always drawn in by the drama that inevitably surrounds birth of any kind. “It’s like that with horses, too. Amazing.”
Rory ducked her head quickly but not before Carson saw the shimmer in her eyes.
He reached a hand out and tucked it gently under her chin, lifting her face to his. “Hey, look at you, all misty-eyed at a new puppy.”
“I know.” She laughed, waving the tears off her face. “I’m pathetic.”
“No, you’re not.” He looked at her steadily. He knew what had hit home to her. “You’re scared. This will be you soon. Well, not exactly, but close enough. You’re excited, and scared, too, right?”
She nodded. “These babies are so lucky! Mistral is so good at this, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s a natural. But me, well, I don’t know how to be a mother.”
Mistral looked up nervously, her body taking a well-deserved break between puppies.
“I think you’re scaring the dog,” Carson said, tilting his head toward her. Instantly Rory’s face changed. She wiped away the tears, swallowed hard, and nodded.
“You’re right,” she said, reaching for Carson’s hand. She gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Carson. Thank you for being here with me.”
His heart leaped at the warmth and pressure of her small fingers. His throat was suddenly thick and dry. He closed his hand over hers.
“You’re welcome.” He forced himself to meet her eyes. “Anytime.”
Her eyes were huge, luminous, and vulnerable. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, the dog groaned and stretched out on her side again.
Rory gasped, dropped Carson’s hand, and bent over the whelping box. “Here she goes again. Oh, Carson, look!”
Together, they watched the tiny muzzle emerge, followed quickly by the front feet and then, in a whoosh of amniotic fluid, the rest of the pup.
The night passed in a blur until, just before dawn, the job was done. Nestled against Mistral’s black flank lay two golden girls and four chocolate-brown boys, each latched to a nipple as if knowing their lives depended on it.
“The radiologist told me that the ultrasound isn’t a guarantee, but I think they were right. She looks done.” Rory carefully eased her legs out beneath her and joined him on the floor, leaning against the opposite wall. He heard a quick hiss of indrawn breath.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. But the way she was rubbing her hip said otherwise.
“I guess I can’t sit like that anymore.” She got to her feet, pushing up against her thighs. As she straightened, Carson saw her wobble. She grabbed for the wall and missed, tilted against it, hitting it with her shoulder.
In an instant, Carson was on his feet. He caught her easily, led her to the couch, and set her down.
“It’s just a head rush,” Rory protested.
“Right.”
“I’m fine.” She struggled to her feet but he nudged her, his hand flat against her upper chest.
“You almost fainted.” Carson leaned into her, hoping he didn’t look as freaked out as he felt. “Let me put this in a way you’ll understand: Down. Stay. You need to rest, and you need to eat. I’ll be right back.”
After assuring himself that Rory would remain on the couch, he stalked off to the kitchen in search of sustenance.
