by Gerri Hill
“Then we’ll get along fine this week,” Martha said. “Enjoy,” she added as she left them alone.
Kerry took a sip of her water, then rolled her shoulders, trying to get the kinks out. She’d spent the entire afternoon holed up in her room with her laptop. And while she accomplished much on the new website, she had to constantly remind herself that she was here working and not vacationing. Her mind kept wandering to Carson and on more than one occasion, she had to talk herself out of going to find her. It was different, somehow, with the brothers gone. With Cody gone, she clarified. They were alone. There were no barriers or obstacles. It was as if things had changed between them. The looks they shared were unguarded now, open. Kerry wasn’t so naive that she didn’t recognize what was happening between them. She did. She didn’t, however, have a clue as to how to stop it. She wasn’t altogether certain she wanted to stop it, despite the uncharted territory she was heading into. Gravitating toward women, enjoying their presence was one thing. Being attracted—sexually attracted—to a lesbian was something quite different.
“Did you get a lot of work done?” Carson asked, pulling her from her musings.
“I did. Although I admit, I would have much rather been outside enjoying the beautiful weather,” she said as she took a bite of chicken.
“Bring your laptop out with you,” Carson suggested.
“I don’t work well that way. Too many things would distract me.” She met her eyes for a moment, then looked away. “Like you,” she added.
“Me? Afraid I’ll steal you away and go exploring or something.”
Kerry smiled. “That’s what I’d want to do, yes. Which is why I’m glad you’re taking me riding tomorrow,” she said. “I can still call it working.”
“Not working. Just a tour,” Carson said as she sampled the potatoes. “God, these are good,” she murmured.
“Yes, they’re excellent,” she said. “So, how much of it do you remember? I mean, if we’re going to offer trail rides, we’ll need a route. Are there trails into the mountains already, or will we have to make some?”
“There are some, but I don’t know if it’s what you’re looking for. You know, as a kid, I used to ride all over out there, trail or not. Then there’s a trail that goes through the valley and onto the next ranch, the Conleys’ place,” she said. “My boyfriend,” she added with a smirk.
“The would-be groom?”
Carson nodded. “We were in the eighth grade when we kissed. And it was as romantic as kissing my brother would have been,” she said. “I already knew I liked girls but that just confirmed it.”
“That must have been hard,” she said. “You’re so removed from everything out here. It’s so remote. I imagine it must have been difficult.”
“It was. Why do you think I had to resort to my brothers’ girlfriends?”
Kerry laughed. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, you were alone. There couldn’t have been a lot of support. Not as if you were in a big city school,” she said.
“My mother was supportive. Of course she already knew by the time I told her. And the two of us kept it a secret from my father.” She smiled. “That is, until the day Cody caught me with Angie Bonner.”
“So he just walked in on you? In the hayloft?” she asked. She had been curious about the whole incident since Carson had first mentioned it.
“Not exactly. He watched first,” Carson said.
“You’re kidding? Why would he watch?” As soon as the words were out, she blushed and added, “Don’t answer that.”
Carson laughed. “Cody was twenty. His girlfriend—eighteen and a senior in high school. And I’m this skinny tomboy, sixteen, and she was begging for me to...well, you know, do something Cody would never do.”
Again Kerry blushed, not needing for Carson to say the words. Still, her mind conjured up an image she couldn’t shake. “Then what?” she asked, despite her embarrassment.
“Then we got into one of many fights and he threw me from the loft and I broke my arm,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s when my father found out I was gay. That’s really when everyone found out.”
“At school?”
“Most already knew. Small school. Not much escaped notice,” Carson said. “Chase was the only one of my brothers who knew. Or at least they pretended not to know. They were all shocked and everything.”
Kerry stared at her, eyebrows raised. “You broke your arm?”
Carson grinned. “And that pissed me off.” She pushed her plate aside, sipping from her own water. “Enough about all that. Where do you go from here?”
“You mean, providing I make the six months?” she teased.
“I’m sure you will. There’s only one thing that would make Cody turn on you,” she said as she smiled, amusement dancing in her eyes.
The logical thing to say was that she shouldn’t have anything to worry about then, but she didn’t speak the words. For some reason, they seemed inappropriate. So she simply matched Carson’s easy smile with one of her own. She was about to answer her earlier question when Martha popped into the dining room.
“You ladies all done?”
“That was excellent, Martha,” Carson said. “The best potatoes I’ve ever had.”
Kerry wasn’t surprised to find that Carson’s charm worked on the older woman as well. She blushed as she busied herself with their plates.
“Why, thank you, Miss Carson. It’s an old family recipe. I swear, your brothers could eat plain old mashed potatoes at every meal if I let them,” she said.
“Well, you can serve all the chicken you want,” Kerry added. “It’s a nice change.”
“Thank you. You may be sorry you requested that. I, for one, am sick to death of beef.” She shook her head when they both attempted to help her clear the table. “You’ll leave that right where you found it,” she said. “I tend to that around here. Why don’t you two go to the study? A little girl talk must be nice what with the guys finally gone.”
Her movements were fluid as she cleared the table and Kerry and Carson exchanged an amused glance as she ushered them out of the room.
“Well, I suppose I could put in another hour or so on the website,” Kerry said.
“Or you could join me for a nightcap,” Carson suggested. “I think I saw a nice bottle of brandy in there.”
Kerry paused. Common sense told her she should decline. She’d spent enough time with Carson as it was. But common sense didn’t win out as she found herself following Carson into the study.
“Or scotch?” Carson offered.
“Brandy is fine,” she said as she settled into a plush leather chair. “Thank you,” she murmured as Carson handed her a glass.
“My father came in here every night after dinner for exactly two glasses of scotch and one cigar,” Carson said as she sat across from her. “My mother joined him only on Friday nights. No one else was allowed inside,” she said. “Ever.”
“Did he have secrets?”
“No. I think he was just keeping this for himself. You know, a place where he could come and not be interrupted by kids.” Carson’s gaze landed on her and Kerry raised her eyebrows questioningly. “You’re curious about our family yet you haven’t shared much about you.”
“Nothing exciting, trust me. An only child with two doting parents, I didn’t want for anything, yet we were hardly what you’d call wealthy,” she said. “Then I worked for a small consulting firm after college, before I joined Randall. It was lots of travel, especially at first. I got the jobs no one wanted.”
“Ever married?”
Kerry shook her head. “No. Not even close.”
“You’re thirty-four?”
“Yes.” She smiled.
“Do you want kids?”
“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “I always just assumed I would have kids, but I don’t miss not having them.” She shrugged. “I don’t really think about it, I guess. I’ve been focused on my career.” She looked at her briefly. �
�You?”
“God, no. I never wanted kids,” Carson said. “It was never even a consideration.”
Kerry sipped her brandy, wondering if Carson’s childhood—her father—was the reason she was so adamant about not having kids. But then, some women never craved motherhood, regardless of their upbringing. So she changed the subject, back to something less personal.
“Where will you take me tomorrow?”
Carson gave her a saucy look. “I can take you places you’ve never been before.” Their eyes met, then Carson laughed. “God, that was so lame,” she said.
Kerry laughed too. For a second there, she thought Carson was serious. “You haven’t really used that line before, have you?”
“No. I was just teasing you.” Carson added a bit more brandy to both their glasses. “Actually, I’m really looking forward to getting out there,” she said. “I just hope Windstorm is up for it. Chase said he hasn’t been ridden. I hope he doesn’t toss me on my ass.”
“I don’t think he will,” she said. “But what about me? Got some nice, slow mare I can ride?”
“Yeah. Chase told me which one would be best for you. She’s young but gentle.” Carson watched her. “Are you nervous?”
“To be on a horse? Not really.”
“We should be fine,” Carson said. “It’s just quiet around the ranch with the guys and the cattle gone.”
“Yes. Nice and quiet,” she said. “I feel no pressure. I don’t feel like I have to watch everything I say,” she admitted.
“You mean with Cody?”
“Yes. I don’t want him to misconstrue something I’ve said. I tend to talk less around him for that very reason.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“It’s different with you,” Kerry said, wondering why she felt the need to explain. “Everything feels familiar. It’s so easy, this friendship we’ve developed. Don’t you think?”
Carson held her eyes for a moment although the look in hers was veiled. She smiled easily and nodded.
“Yes, it is familiar. You’ve known me all of three weeks and you already know more about me than anyone else. I haven’t shared much of my past with any of my current...friends,” Carson said.
“Where do you live?”
“I have an apartment in Manhattan. That’s officially home, I suppose. I travel a lot,” she said evasively.
That declaration brought a whole new series of questions to the surface, but Kerry saw the guarded look that Carson now sported. She wouldn’t ruin the pleasant evening with more questions.
“I’ve found the more I travel, the more I’m ready to settle down,” Kerry said. “Unfortunately, starting my own business, especially one like this, will require continued travel.” She stood then, signaling an end to the evening. “Thank you for the brandy,” she said. “It was nice to sit and talk, but I have a busy day tomorrow.”
“Yes. And I’ll let you get started on the bunkhouse before we head out. I’ll come find you.”
“I just need one last run-through with Mr. Burris. Don’t want him to take out the wrong wall.” She bowed slightly. “Good night, Carson.”
“Good night.”
Chapter Eighteen
Carson heard the banging of hammers and the clanking of boards as she approached the bunkhouse. It was after ten, and she thought she’d given them enough time to get started on it. As she suspected, Kerry was underfoot, watching the demolition with an attentive eye.
“Making progress?” she asked as she ducked under a two-by-four.
Kerry smiled at her. “Good morning. Yeah, they got to work right away.” She tugged Carson away, leading her back outside. “I think they’re sick of me already,” she said with a laugh.
“Time for me to steal you away then?”
“Yes. He said it would take them through tomorrow to get all the walls down and hauled away. I’m all yours.”
There were so many things Carson could say to that, but she let it go with only a slight twitch of her lips. Kerry bumped her shoulder.
“Not touching that one, huh?”
“I’m behaving myself,” she said. She held up a canvas bag. “Martha packed us lunch.”
“Oh, that was sweet of her.”
“Yes. She’s very thoughtful. The guys are lucky to have her.”
They walked on to the stables, their boots crunching on the gravel path. For some reason, Carson was nervous. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she was about to saddle Windstorm or that she would be completely alone with Kerry. As Kerry had said last night, their friendship was easy, natural. And it was evolving. She wondered if Kerry realized the path they were taking or the swiftness at which they traveled it. In her younger days—another time, another place—Carson would have already tested the waters. Hell, she would have dived in headfirst. But there was something about Kerry that made her want to take it slow, if not change direction altogether. It had nothing to do with the ranch or Cody or even Kerry’s supposed orientation. It was on a deeper level, one she couldn’t quite reach, couldn’t quite explain. She wasn’t certain she wanted to delve into it further, but on some level she was afraid. She was afraid of her growing attachment to this woman.
“You’re being quiet,” Kerry said. “Everything okay?”
“Oh...yeah, sorry. I was thinking about riding again after all this time,” she lied. “I hope I remember how to saddle a horse.”
Kerry tilted her head, studying her, and Carson had a sense that Kerry knew she was lying.
“Did you see your father?”
“No. Well, I went to his room this morning, but she had given him a dose of morphine and he was out.”
“It must be terrible to spend your last days like that,” Kerry said.
“Yes. In his heart, in his mind, he’s already died, I think. It’s just his body hasn’t let him go yet.” She held the door open to the barn, letting Kerry go first. “She says he’s in a lot of pain.”
“I imagine so. But Carson, isn’t it a little strange? I mean, your father is dying yet your brothers just rode off as if nothing is wrong.”
“Yeah, but they’ve got to get the herd moved. I’m guessing they all said their goodbyes to him before they left.”
“I suppose. But if it were me, I wouldn’t leave his side.”
“And that’s where things are very different,” she said. “The ranch comes first. It always has.” She went to the rack where the bridles were kept, choosing one without a bit for Windstorm—he’d always hated them—and another with a bit for the young mare Kerry would ride. “Here we go,” she said.
Back out in the sunshine, she easily hopped the fence and stood still, whistling for Windstorm. His ears perked up, eyeing her. Then he trotted over, sniffing her.
“See if you can find it,” she whispered, holding still as he moved behind her. She grinned as she felt him pushing at her from behind. Soon, the loud crunching of a carrot was heard. She turned triumphantly to Kerry. “Awesome,” she said.
Kerry nodded and Carson felt her eyes following her as she walked closer to Windstorm, gently rubbing his neck.
“You want to ride, big fella?” she murmured, touching him as she used to. He stood still when she slipped the bridle onto his face and over his ears. Once secured, he shook his head several times but didn’t shy away. “Good boy.” She took the reins, leading him toward the stable. She glanced at Kerry. “I think he’s going to be fine.”
And he was. He stood still as Carson lifted the saddle onto his back, and she wondered if perhaps he wasn’t anxious to get out on the trails and out of the stables. Surprisingly, the art of saddling a horse came back to her—she had the mare and Windstorm ready to go in no time. She held the mare steady as Kerry climbed onto the saddle, then handed her the reins.
She patted Windstorm’s neck before putting her foot in the stirrup. “Don’t toss me on my ass, please,” she said as she grabbed the horn of the saddle and pulled herself up. He danced sideways, shaking his neck but didn’t at
tempt to throw her. She bent low in the saddle, again rubbing his neck. “Good boy,” she said again, feeling nearly like the teenager she’d been when she left. She shifted the reins, guiding him to the gate and out into the valley.
She could sense the excitement in the powerful animal and let him run, leaning down low over his mane, the wind whistling around her. It was just like old times...she and Windstorm chasing the wind through the valley. She was laughing heartily by the time she reined him in. She glanced behind her, finding Kerry not far behind, the mare sporting an easy gait.
“Oh, God, that was fabulous,” Carson said as she patted his neck. He was still dancing, anxious to run again, but she held him tight.
“I’ll say. We couldn’t keep up and I let her go.”
“I’ve missed this,” she said. “I just feel so...free out here.”
“Is this what you did as a kid?”
She nodded. “Yeah. This was my escape.” She turned Windstorm, heading up higher into the valley. “Come on, let’s tour.”
Carson led them through the valley and up into the foothills, taking familiar routes, surprised that she still remembered. She stopped occasionally, pointing out features to Kerry, pausing as they enjoyed the view of the lake now far below them. They rode amongst the trees—spruce and aspen—taking a trail into a small, grassy canyon.
Carson pulled Windstorm to a sudden halt when she realized where she was. Had she subconsciously come here? Or was it just by chance they’d ended up here in the canyon.
She slid from the saddle, dropping the reins as her eyes darted across the rocks, then farther up the trail before coming back to the rocks, her eyes finding the spot.
“Carson? What’s wrong?” Kerry, too, got off her horse and came closer, standing beside her. When Carson didn’t answer, she touched her arm. “What is it?”
“This is where it happened.”
“This is where what happened?” Kerry asked quietly.
Carson took a deep breath, turning to Kerry. “My mother. This is where she died.” She saw the immediate softening in Kerry’s eyes, felt a warm hand move across her skin to clasp her forearm tightly.