“Kiss me,” she said.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
He surrounded her with his body, his warmth embracing her.
Kissing her neck and nibbling Carrie’s ear he whispered, “You’ll get your skirt dirty.”
“Good,” she said, then bit his lip.
“It hasn’t been a week,” he said, his voice low, “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, but it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind?”
She dropped her playful act. Her face serious, she said, “I made up my mind a long time ago.”
“When?”
“It was you, it was always you. From the first day I met you, and you grabbed my arm and told me ‘no,’ I was hooked.”
“What took you so long?”
“I just… I was scared. And unsure of who I was and what I wanted.” She looked up shyly. “I’m grateful the wedding got called off. Obviously, I wish it had happened differently, but I didn’t have the guts to do it myself, and I’m glad.” Carrie didn’t meet his eyes as she murmured, “When did you first know that you wanted me.”
Wes tilted her chin up towards his and locked her in his gaze. “The first moment your chocolate brown eyes peeped over the roof of that car, I was hooked.” He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “And when you said those three little words, ‘Like a daddy,’ that is when I was rendered utterly, hopelessly, in love.”
Her brown eyes shined with unshed tears. “In love?” she whispered.
“Yes. After I met you, every moment without you has been a moment I struggled to get through.”
“I love you too, Wes,” she said shyly, peeking up at him through her dark lashes. “Will you kiss me, now?”
“Yes.” He leaned down and kissed her mouth the way he had wanted to since he first laid eyes on her. Finally, he broke away and whispered the words, “I love you.”
She sighed, placing her head on his chest. “Daddy, mine,” she whispered.
“My Carrie girl, my sweet, little Carrie girl.”
Wes had dragged Carrie back to the truck after a few soft kisses in the meadow. He wanted to take things slow with her, for reasons he couldn’t say. He drove her on to Clinton and took her to the steak house for dinner. By then they were both hungry and ate everything before them. The conversation kept up, and they continued to learn about one another’s pasts. Long after the sun had set and the last bites of pie and drops of coffee were gone, they loaded back up in the truck and headed through the navy sky back to the ranch.
Wes felt a strange tension in the air as he turned under The Lonestar Cattle Company sign and followed the long dusty road that led to the ranch house. He couldn’t quite place what it was, but the feeling made him drive faster than usual.
By his side, Carrie chatted away gaily. She grew quiet as they pulled up to the barn. There were several work trucks parked in front of the ranch house, and light shone from every window.
Wes threw the truck in park. “Something’s up,” he muttered, then cut the ignition and ran towards the house, Carrie behind him.
Wes burst through the screen door, taking in the grim scene. Mama was busy at the sink, and several workers crowded around the kitchen table. There sat young Kevin, his face ashen. He was holding his left arm tight against his body. As Wes approached, he could see that the entire sleeve of Kevin’s flannel shirt was soaked with blood.
Wes felt like a mentor to young Kevin, and now seeing him in such a stricken condition, he realized how much he had grown to like the young man over the past few months. Fear for his safety stung Wes.
“What happened?”
Gary, Wes’ foreman, spoke first, “We just brought him in seconds before you got here. We were…”
A blur of braids and skirts shoved past Wes, knocking him out of the way. Carrie knelt at Kevin’s side. “Let me see that.” She gently pulled Kevin’s hand away from his arm. Several workers looked on, faces concerned. A moment later, Carrie stood up and started issuing orders, “Wes, bring me all the clean dish towels you got. Mama, go and get your sewing kit and bring me a needle and thread, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. As for the rest of you,” Carrie waved her hand towards the door, “git.” The big men jumped at the little woman’s orders and moved out onto the porch. Without a word, Wes gathered the clean dishtowels from the drawer. Mama hurried from the room.
Carrie led a very pale and weak Kevin to the kitchen sink. “Now, Wes, come over here and hold this man up for me. He might pass out.” Wes placed the towels on the kitchen table and quickly came to Kevin’s side, bracing him underneath both arms. Carrie lifted the kitchen scissors and cut away at the blood-soaked fabric, exposing the wound. The cut ran from the top of Kevin’s forearm almost to his wrist. The skin on either side was separated by at least a two-inch gap. Blood poured from the wound.
“First thing’s first, we need to clean this out with cool water.” Kevin’s face blanched further when Carrie opened the tap, and the water hit the open wound. Wes braced, ready to hold the young man’s weight should he pass out.
A slight groan escaped Kevin’s lips, but he stayed with them.
Inspecting the wound as she gently moved it back and forth under the water, Carrie said, “This is looking good, Kevin. Really good. It’s a clean cut, no debris.” Wes looked over Kevin’s shoulder as he stood behind him to inspect the wound. He could see a thin line of white bone. His stomach heaved, but he held on to Kevin.
Carrie carefully folded the torn skin together as best she could, then applied the clean dishtowels to the wound. “Sit him down right here. She held the arm and directed Wes to seat Kevin down on a clean kitchen chair at the head of the table. “Put your arm right up here for me.” Carrie gently guided the injured limb onto the kitchen table. She tightened the towels around his arm, then tore one of the thinner ones into strips. She tied the thin pieces of cloth around the towels, forming a tourniquet.
Mama bustled back into the room, sewing kit and alcohol in hand. She set everything on the table and went about gathering her sharpest needle and white thread from the kit. Mama got down a bowl from the kitchen cabinet and busied herself with sanitizing the supplies.
Wes stood by Kevin’s side, a hand on the young man’s shoulder. He readied himself to steady Kevin, should he eventually lose his battle with consciousness to the blood loss and shock. Other than that, he stood utterly helpless as his tiny woman took charge of the desperate situation. Carrie was calm and worked with a cool confidence that made Wes feel like everything was going to be all right, that Kevin would be all right.
“Now honey, I’m going to apply a little pressure to the wound to see if I can get this bleeding to stop. This might hurt a little.” Carrie looked up and locked on Wes with her eyes and gave him a small nod of her head. Without words, he read her signals very clearly. She was sure Kevin would pass out at this point and wanted Wes ready. Placing both hands back under Kevin’s arms, he stood firm.
Carrie’s small hands expertly placed, she pressed. Kevin gave a small groan and lost consciousness, slumping on the table. Wes situated his upper body to rest on the table, the arm out and easy for Carrie to reach.
Mama came around by Carrie’s side. “Honey, how’s it going?” she asked softly.
“In all honesty, I’m glad the poor boy passed out because I’m gonna have to stitch it and that won’t feel pleasant. I wanted to see if I could ease the bleeding with pressure first, but it's not stopping as much as I’d like. We need to get this sewn up.” She locked eyes with Wes again. “You got him?”
Wes put two firm hands on the young man's shoulders. “Yes, ma’am.”
Carrie hurried to the sink and scrubbed her hands and fingers, then her arms carefully up to her elbows. She then came back to the table and pulled out the chair and sat down next to Kevin.
“Mama, bring me that needle and thread, please,” Carrie said. Even in the dire circumstance, Wes couldn’t help but smile a little at Carrie calling his ma, mama.
Carrie’s small fingers deftly untied the bloodied tourniquet and peeled back the towels. Her shirt and skirt were covered in blood; there were smears of blood on her face. Carrie lifted the needle from the bowl that Mama had placed in front of her. She carefully bent the metal to form a ‘j’ shape. She then threaded the needle with the white thread.
After double checking her handiwork and making sure the skin was still lined up the best it could be, Carrie started to make small, neat stitches from the top of the wound.
Wes and Mama held their breath as she quickly and carefully made her way down the wound. Each stitch finished with a tight but gentle pull of the thread, and the skin was coming together. They all froze when Kevin made a small moan and came to for a second. He sat up a bit, saw the needle, then was back under, head hitting his other forearm. Wes let out his breath.
Wes was sure his face was white as he wiped at the cold sweat that had broken out on his forehead. “Quickly, Carrie, while he’s still out and can’t feel the pain.”
Carrie just smiled, and softly replied, “Yes, sir. I’m trying.”
Mama busied herself with taking away the bloodied rags and replacing them with new, clean ones. She cleaned around Carrie best she could while still giving her a wide berth to work. Wes just watched.
Carrie was just finishing her last stitch when Gary popped his head into the kitchen. “Ma’am, I mean no disrespect but should one of us be fetching a real doctor?”
Carrie laughed. “I know I’m no doctor, but the bleeding has stopped now. There isn’t much more a doctor could do for him tonight, real or not.”
Gary fumbled with the hat he held in his hands, the ranch hands knew not to wear a hat inside of Mama’s house. “Again, no disrespect ma’am but shouldn’t we get him to a hospital?”
“I think the long trip would do him more harm than good. What he needs is rest.” Carrie looked over at Mama, “Would it be all right for Wes to put Kevin in Garrett’s bed tonight? He could get some rest, and I can keep an eye on him overnight.” Mama answered, “Of course.”
Then Carrie turned to Gary, “Tomorrow, when he’s had some rest I will have Wes take him right down to the real doctor in the morning, Gary. Now you go on and tell everyone that Kevin’s doing just fine and they need to go on home and rest, too.”
The gentle giant blushed. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” He hurried back out to the front porch to dismiss the crowd.”
Carrie cleaned every inch of the arm, wiping away the now drying blood. Kevin stirred.
“You okay, man?” Wes leaned down inspecting Kevin’s face. A smile crossed his face.
“Never been better.” He replied, weakly.
Chuckling, Wes helped a now conscious Kevin up and around the table and down the hallway. Kevin stopped and thanked Carrie on his way. “I’m awful grateful to you, Carrie.”
Carrie leaned up on her tiptoes and gave the young boy a kiss on the cheek. “Glad I could help. You go and rest now. I’ll check on you through the night.”
Wes steered him the rest of the way down the hall, pleased that Kevin was gathering his strength with each step. He got him settled in Garrett's bed, then took off Kevin’s muddy boots. Once Kevin was sleeping soundly, his stitched arm clean and resting across his chest, Wes turned out the light and left the room.
When he returned to the kitchen, the mess was gone. Ma’s kitchen was back to sparkling, and she had gone off to bed. Carrie stood at the sink, cleaning her face as best she could.
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She stilled and took a deep breath. Leaning down to her ear, Wes whispered, “My Carrie girl, saved the day.”
Carrie turned around to face him. Her face was tired. She looked down at her skirt. “I guess I got my skirt dirty, this time.”
“Come here.” Wes pulled her into him. “I’ll get you all cleaned up.” He took her hand and led her to the bathroom off of the guest room where she was staying.
Leaving Carrie by the bathroom door, Wes went to the tub and drew the curtain back. He turned on the faucet, testing the water with his hand. When it was the perfect temperature, he stopped the drain, letting the warm water fill the tub. He then squeezed in the lavender liquid soap that Mama kept stocked in all of the bathrooms. Bubbles began to appear at the edges of the rising water
He looked down at Carrie. She was quiet. She looked small and tired. Her face was pale, her braids going every which way, her clothing covered in blood.
“Arms up,” he said gently. She obeyed, raising her arms tiredly over her head. He gently pulled the tee shirt up and over her head, careful not to get any more blood on her. He tossed the shirt into the sink. “I don’t think I can salvage that. But this skirt, I will try my best.” He took hold of the elastic waist and slipped the skirt down over her hips. It fell to the ground. Carrie put her hands on Wes’ shoulders and stepped out of the skirt.
Wes bent down and picked up the skirt, trying to be a gentleman and avoid the sight of Carrie standing there wearing only her bra and panties. He stepped around her, skirt and shirt in hand and called over his shoulder, “You go ahead and get into the tub. I’ll see what magic I can work on this skirt.”
He heard Carrie heave a grateful sigh as he shut the door behind him. Wes went out to the back porch where the washer and dryer were. He grabbed up his mama’s red cleaning bucket then headed to the kitchen sink.
Holding the stained skirt over the sink, he carefully washed it out best he could. Once he had all the blood out that he could get, he wrung the skirt out and placed it in the bucket. He cleaned the sink out, then put the bucket in it. Wes went to the fridge and pulled out a fresh quart of milk that mama had gotten that morning from Daisy, their dairy cow. “Sorry, Daisy,” he said aloud to himself as he poured the entire quart over the skirt in the bucket. “I hate to use up all your milk, but this skirt is special to me.
Mama had not only taught her boys their way around the kitchen, but also all sorts of home remedies and cleaning techniques. The enzymes found in plain milk have a way with blood and raising two boys on a ranch; Mama had seen her share of blood stains over the years.
Wes left the skirt in the bucket to soak. He then washed his hands and went back to the guestroom. Knocking on the door, Wes waited for a response from Carrie.
“Come in,” she said, her voice tired.
Wes stepped timidly into the bathroom. “You sure it’s all right?” Carrie laid in the tub, skin covered in bubbles. She had taken down her braids, her hair pinned to the top of her head in curls, and her head rested back against the wall.
Taken by the sight of the bathing beauty, Wes went to her side and knelt on the mat by the tub.
“Let me wash you, baby girl,” he said, his voice husky.
Carrie rolled her head over to him. She met his eyes and nodded, shyly.
Wes took a blue washcloth from a basket by the tub. “Let Daddy take care of his little girl.” He dipped the corner of it in the warm water. He gave it a squeeze. Then he held it up to her face. “Close your eyes.” She closed them. Wes gently, ever so gently, wiped her cheeks, his fingers wrapped in the soft cloth. With gentle pressure, he cleaned a spot of blood that had dried in the dimple of her chin. He dunked the whole cloth in the water and wrung it out with his hands. He wiped her neck, her shoulders, then lifted her arms, one at a time stroking gently to her fingertips. “These fingers worked hard today.” He kissed the tips of each one. “Steady hands on a strong woman.” He held her hand out and massaged her fingers one at a time, then took his thumb and made firm circles with it in her palm. She groaned with pleasure.
Wes washed every inch of her body. Carrie’s eyes remained closed, but she would give a small moan every so often. When his hand trailed down her body under the sudsy water, Carrie’s eyes flashed open. Her moans gave way to gasps.
After her bath, Wes drained the water. He wrapped a warm fluffy towel around Carrie, rubbing the cloth up and down over her arms. Wes took another towel and
dried her legs, her knees, her toes. When he was satisfied with his work, he led her by her hand into the bedroom. He pulled the towel off of her and gazed at her nakedness fully for the first time. A blush crept up to her face. “You’re beautiful, Carrie girl.” He took her pajamas off the bed and quickly dressed her lest she should catch a chill.
Wes tucked her into the bed.
“Stay with me, tonight.” Her eyelids drooped sleepily.
Wes laid down beside her and Carrie curled up on his chest same as she had that day down on the creek bed at the ranch. They lay quietly together.
“I couldn’t have done that,” Wes said, his arm wrapped around her, his fingertips tracing circles on her upper arm.
“I learned it on the farm.”
“You little bit of a thing, bossing everyone around.” Wes chuckled at the memory.
“It was nothing.”
“It was something. I was lucky to have you here. Kevin was lucky to have you here. You are a strong woman, and a good little girl.”
Carrie snuggled deeper into his chest. “Wes, I quit my job.”
Wes stopped tracing the circles on her arm and turned his head towards her. “What?”
“At the end of the school year, I told the principal I wasn’t coming back next year. Then I packed my bags and came straight here.”
“But you love your job.”
“I do. But I don’t love the city. And I never felt like myself there. Being with you made me realize I would never be happy there, and never be ‘Carrie.’
Her answer made Wes feel whole and hopeful. He wanted his ranch, and he wanted his girl on it. “What will you do?”
“I’d like to stay here on the ranch this summer if you and Mama will have me. I could be useful. I’m just not ready to go home to South Carolina. And I’m not ready to leave you.”
“We would like that, very much. Nothing would make me happier than having my little girl right by my side.” He kissed her forehead and stroked her curls.
Carrie gave a soft sigh, and soon she was asleep. Wes held her another minute, then gently lifted her and went back to his room to sleep.
Daddy Mine (Sweet Texas Love Book 1) Page 11