Second Chances: Love in Juniper Ridge (Carver Ranch Book 1)

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Second Chances: Love in Juniper Ridge (Carver Ranch Book 1) Page 4

by Heather Tullis


  She didn’t really want to spend the day with Marsh, or to owe him for making the trip, but she didn’t want to leave Paul at Jane’s overnight, either. She was perfectly responsible, but her live-in boyfriend was another matter. Karissa only hesitated for a moment. “You’re sure? It will be a long day.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” Marsh said.

  Karissa returned to the phone. “Sorry about that. Someone will drive us to Pueblo. What time do you need him there?”

  She made note of the time and where she was supposed to leave Paul and ended the call.

  “So why are we going to Pueblo?” Marsh asked.

  She wet her lips, needing an extra second to put it into words when her emotions were so close to the surface. “Dennis is getting remarried. He wants his son there.”

  Marsh used some choice words to describe what he thought of Dennis. “It’s not his weekend. Why are you making the drive to accommodate him?”

  “Because Paul deserves to be there, and we’re trying not to put him in the middle. And as a bonus, he’ll transport Paul to and from his visit next weekend. Besides, it’ll give Paul a chance to spend time with his cousins, which doesn’t happen all that often.” Dennis’s older sister had two little boys about Paul’s age.

  Marsh looked surprised and maybe a little impressed. “You’re some woman, Karissa.”

  His approval made her choke up even more. “Go help my dad. I have things to do before work.”

  He headed off, and Karissa wiped at her eyes, determined to put on a bright, happy face for her son as she broke the news of his trip.

  Saturday morning Karissa felt like she’d barely closed her eyes before the alarm clock woke her to get ready for Marsh’s arrival. Paul had been bathed the previous night and his dress clothes set aside for Jane to help him with when they reached Pueblo. Karissa struggled to stay on task as she got ready and double-checked her list, but managed to have everything together when Marsh pulled up in his double-cab truck.

  She was still trying to decide how she felt about spending so many hours with him—much of them alone. And why would he make such a generous offer? Was it loyalty to her parents and brothers?

  She was too tired to try to figure it out at the moment, so she kissed her mom goodbye and ushered Paul outside before Marsh could reach the door.

  “Hey, you’re upright and everything,” Marsh teased when he saw them.

  “Barely.” The exhaustion pulled at her as she clicked the remote to unlock her car. “Grab the booster seat, will you?”

  Though Paul rode in the back seat, he managed to dominate the conversation for most of the drive, asking a thousand questions about birds they saw, basketball, and how come Twizzlers had holes down the middle, “and how did they do that, anyway?”

  Karissa tried to keep up with her son—incessant questions were better than whining about boredom—but she was glad that Marsh fielded so many of them.

  As for Marsh, she was pleasantly surprised to see how patient he was with her son. There was a huge difference between being willing to play with him for a while at her parents’ house and being stuck entertaining him on a long drive. Of course, Marsh was a school teacher, but dealing with teenagers was nothing like dealing with a five-year-old.

  They stopped for burgers when they reached Pueblo, and Karissa was glad she hadn’t put Paul in his nice clothes yet, as he dripped ketchup all over his shirt.

  Still, they managed to make the handoff to Jane without incident, though Jane’s brows lifted when she noticed the ketchup.

  Karissa climbed back into the car. “Great, now Jane thinks I send my son for visits wearing stained clothes.” She put on her seatbelt. “That goes just terrific with everything else she hates me for.”

  “Why would she be mad at you?” Marsh asked as he backed out of the driveway. “And she’s got to realize Paul is five. Chances are he’s going to spill on himself sometimes. That’s hardly your fault.”

  Karissa rubbed her neck. “I just get uptight when I deal with Dennis’ family lately. And I’m tired. Don’t mind me if I’m a grouch. I really appreciate you driving me here.”

  “I’m happy to help. And why just lately would you have issues with Jane? You didn’t before?” Marsh glanced over at her when he stopped at a stop sign.

  Shrugging, Karissa tried to figure out how to explain without sounding like a big whiner. “Apparently it’s my fault that Dennis cheated on me. It must be, because otherwise our marriage would still be strong.” She put emphasis on the words, indicating that it was Jane’s opinion and not her own. “At least, that seems to be the track his whole family has taken.”

  When Marsh shared his views on that, in colorful language, Karissa decided to modify her statement.

  “Well, maybe it’s just his parents and I’m projecting it onto the rest of the family. Jane and I never were best buddies, but we got on fine. At least, I thought so.”

  “Any man who would consider cheating on you ought to have his head examined,” Marsh said. “Dennis is an idiot, and if his family can’t figure that out, they’re idiots too.”

  Karissa smiled. It was nice to hear it, even if she couldn’t completely banish the thought that maybe there was blame to be laid at her feet when it came to the demise of her marriage. If she’d done things differently, would Dennis still have strayed? She told herself it wouldn’t have made any difference but wasn’t sure she was convinced. Obviously there was something wrong with her, or he wouldn’t have gone chasing Sheryl.

  She didn’t want to talk about it, though, so she changed the subject. “You said you had some errands to run? What’s on the docket?”

  “I need some things for my home.” He proceeded to list a load of home improvement supplies ranging from sheet rock to faucets.

  “Are you building from scratch?” she asked, amused and surprised at the list of items.

  “No, I bought the place next to the Ledbetters. It’s had renters for a few years and is in rough shape.” He chuckled. “Not as bad of shape as the Ledbetter’s place. I’m telling you, when they decide to sell it, your brother’s going to have his hands full.”

  For several years now, Hank had been talking of buying the two-story white house in the middle of town, but the owners had no plans to move, as far as Karissa could tell. She couldn’t figure out what the deal was with that house in particular. It was enormous and in terrible condition—both the house and the landscaping.

  “You bought a house?” That fact surprised Karissa.

  “Why, am I supposed to live in an apartment for the rest of my life?” he asked.

  “No.” She thought about it for a moment. “It just never occurred to me. Isn’t that one awfully big for a single guy?”

  He was silent for a moment. “I’m hoping I won’t always be single. But it’s not exactly enormous. Four bedrooms—just right for a family with two or three kids.”

  She hadn’t heard about him dating. “Are you seeing someone special? I don’t know why I didn’t think about it. You’ve never mentioned anyone.” Strangely the idea was a little unsettling.

  When he didn’t answer right away, she realized she was prying. “Sorry, I know it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.” But she was dying for an answer.

  “No, it’s fine,” he said quickly. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I bought the house thinking maybe, someday.” He stopped at a red light and looked over at her, his gaze intense. “If the right person came along.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I think that’s just a pipe dream, but other times I think—”

  The car behind them started to honk and he looked forward, realized the light had turned green, and started up again. When they were halfway down the block, he changed the subject, asking about her job.

  Marsh had nearly lost it when Karissa asked him if he was dating someone. He was tempted to say that he wanted to be dating her. The words had been on the tip of his tongue, but he knew she wasn’t ready to say yes if he asked her out. His biggest
advantage in this maybe-future relationship was their long-term friendship—or whatever you’d call it—and the fact that he had the chance to spend time with her in a non-dating capacity while she was adjusting to being single again.

  Today was a case in point.

  He stared at the big display of kitchen faucets at the home improvement store. “Okay, I’m totally out of my depth. As a woman who cooks—because mostly I just heat things from the freezer—which one would you want?”

  Karissa smiled. “You want me to pick out a faucet for your theoretical future wife? What if we have different tastes in plumbing?”

  It was all Marsh could do to keep his expression straight but, thankfully, she just shot him a teasing glance and returned her gaze to the wall of samples. His face felt hot and he wondered if he was blushing. How could he be blushing now—he was a grown man! Wasn’t he supposed to have given that up when he hit puberty? Or at least reached college? “Just pick out what you would get if you were picking for yourself. I trust you.”

  She walked down the aisle, studying the options, while he studied her. Her auburn hair showed hardly any red under the store’s florescent lights, but he liked the way it curved away from her head in layers from her shoulders to her ears. It framed her face and made her look years younger—when she took the time to mess with it. Though it was cute the rest of the time as well.

  Karissa pinched her lips between her thumb and forefinger, totally wrapped up in the choices. That drew his eyes to her mouth and had him putting an extra step of space between them. He’d dreamed of kissing her and didn’t think that fantasy was going to go away any time soon. If ever.

  “This one.” She stepped forward and pulled a box off the shelf.

  Marsh jolted himself back to the present and walked closer to read the box. It wasn’t exactly the cheapest faucet on the shelf, but it wasn’t the most expensive, either. “What makes this one the best?” he asked.

  “I like the way the faucet head comes out and turns into a sprayer on a hose, and it’s tall enough to get a big pot under it. Plus it just looks great, which is less important, but still a valid point for consideration, don’t you think?” She turned to face him.

  Marsh realized how close they stood when her eyes were looking into his. Her expression was earnest, her mouth smiled, and their gazes lingered until her smile slipped, though she didn’t seem upset. For just a moment he thought maybe he would lean forward and kiss her, and that she might let him. Then sense slid back into his brain and he forced a casual smile, taking the box and moving back to the cart they’d been loading with supplies. “It looks good. Thanks for your help.”

  “No problem.”

  Marsh closed his eyes while he was turning away from her and sucked in a deep breath. Casual and easy. He could do that. Really.

  The rest of the trip passed smoothly as he refused to let himself get so close to her again. If she noticed the way he held himself back after that, she didn’t mention it.

  Karissa saw almost nothing of Marsh that week. Not that she was surprised, considering the fact that he had basketball tryouts. She told herself she didn’t care but was glad to see him when he joined Hank for evening chores Friday night, even though they barely had a chance to exchange greetings before she headed to work. She was glad her mom would have Paul ready for Dennis to pick up when he arrived.

  When she looked at Marsh, she wondered if she had imagined the moment they’d shared while selecting a kitchen faucet. He had seemed distant since then, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he realized he might have given her the wrong impression, or if the standoffishness was all in her head. She was surprised to find herself attracted to him and enjoying their time together. She’d even wondered for a moment if he had considered kissing her. Worse, in that instant, she wasn’t sure she would have been upset if he’d done it. But it would have been a huge mistake.

  It wasn’t like she was interested in a relationship, even if he was more gorgeous than she had remembered, and his muscles did bulge nicely when he tossed hay bales around with Hank as if they weighed mere ounces. She hadn’t allowed herself to pay attention to his physique, though, because she wasn’t interested.

  The ski resort further up the mountain had gotten snow two nights before, but the farm had only received rain. Karissa didn’t know if that was better or not, considering the wet, muddy ruts left behind by the storm.

  It had been another weekend without Paul, despite Karissa having allowed Paul to go to Dennis’s wedding the weekend before. It was good she worked every night, as sleep didn’t come easily for her when he was away. She checked her watch obsessively, knowing Dennis should return Paul soon. She was anxious to see her son again. Dennis always accused her of being overprotective, but Karissa didn’t care. She worried when her son was out of her sight for too long.

  Dennis showed up as they were all sitting down to Sunday dinner. Marsh sat beside Karissa when Paul tore into the house, bee-lining for the dining room. “I’m home!” He wrapped his arms around Karissa and she pulled him close, thrilled to see him.

  “Hey, baby, did you have fun?” Karissa checked him quickly for bruises or any sign that the weekend had been less than jolly—not that she ever found any—and was relieved to see nothing but pure happiness on his face.

  “So much fun! And I felt my baby move in Sheryl’s tummy. It was cool.” He peeled away and hugged Marsh, moving around the table.

  Karissa felt the knife-point of pain in her chest. She reminded herself that they were talking about Paul’s half-sister and he should be excited about her birth, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear about it. She’d wanted another child so much, but Dennis had put her off, saying they couldn’t afford it or that the time wasn’t right. Now she didn’t know if she’d ever get another chance at a second child of her own.

  Not that she had any right to complain when she had a kid as bright and joyful as Paul.

  “I caught you at dinnertime.” Dennis showed up in the doorway to the dining room. No one seemed to have noticed his footsteps in the hall. His eyes drifted around the table, pausing on Marsh, then landing on Karissa. “Do you have a moment to talk?” he asked her, his jaw tight with irritation or anger.

  “Sure.” Karissa braced herself for whatever he found wrong this time. He’d never been big on talk. She pushed her chair away from the table, pausing in surprise when Marsh touched her arm and gave it a friendly squeeze before letting her go.

  She had expected to speak with him in the entryway, but Dennis led her out onto the porch and shut the door for privacy. Karissa glanced across the yard and saw Sheryl sitting in the front seat of the car. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to make the long drive alone, but it still hurt to see her replacement sitting there so comfortably where Karissa had always belonged.

  She turned resolutely back to Dennis, determined to forget Sheryl. “What is it?”

  “You really need to be more careful about what you expose Paul to. He was sick and puking all night Friday. You didn’t even warn us that he wasn’t feeling well.” Dennis’s brows lowered over his eyes, his face turning hard.

  “He was sick, and you didn’t call me?” Karissa felt her heart rate pick up. Had they taken proper care of him? He’d seemed okay.

  “Why should I? You want to hear about him puking all over the bed sheets? And it’s not like we can’t handle it, but you shouldn’t send him to us if he’s sick. Sheryl is in a delicate condition, and there’s going to be a baby soon. We can’t expose her to Paul’s germs if you aren’t going to take proper care of him.”

  Karissa narrowed her eyes at Dennis. “He’s a kid who goes to kindergarten. He’s going to be exposed to germs; it’s the way life works. He was perfectly fine when he left here, as far as I know. He spent the hour before you arrived helping the guys feed the cows and horses.”

  “Yeah, with Hank and that Marshmallow guy.” Dennis’s expression turned hard. “What is he always doing here, anyway? Is he your new b
oyfriend? Couldn’t wait to start dating again, could you? I know he drove you and Paul to Pueblo last weekend.”

  Hypocrite. Karissa pressed her lips together to hold in any words that might want to escape while she mentally counted to ten. “So says the man who married his pregnant girlfriend days after the divorce finalized.”

  His face flushed, but he pressed on, not willing to accept blame for anything. “I have a right to know what you’re exposing my son to.”

  “I’m exposing him to his family, love, exciting opportunities to learn about animals, the value of hard work, and the chance to get to know his grandparents better. And if I choose to date again, it’s none of your business.” She grabbed the door handle and twisted, storming inside.

  “Karissa, I’m not done talking to you.”

  Karissa called back over her shoulder, “Too bad. I’m done talking to you.” She stopped short when Marsh blocked the entrance to the dining room.

  “What’s going on?” Marsh asked.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” she hissed in a low voice for his ears only, then reached up, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him, knowing Dennis was watching.

  It was petty and juvenile and ridiculous, but she only had half a second to remind herself of that fact before Marsh’s big hands slid onto her waist and then around to her back, pulling her closer. His lips softened under hers and he tipped his head, changing the angle of the kiss and deepening it. She swayed into him, forgetting everything but the feel of his mouth on hers.

  Karissa felt her stomach flutter even as energy raced through her veins. What was going on?

  The front door slammed shut and Marsh’s hands returned to her hips, sending little jolts of lightning through her system.

  There was the sound of a throat clearing, and Karissa realized what she was doing. Abruptly, she pulled back from the embrace, giving Marsh a little nudge away from her. She sucked in a breath, feeling her head whirling a little from her anger. It had to be anger that disoriented her like that; it certainly couldn’t be his touch.

 

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