by Rose, Amelia
“And...”
“And I beat the crap out of him. I dragged him to the floor and beat him with that bat until he actually cried like a little girl. And then I got us the hell out of there. I called the police from a payphone and told them everything, then Gracie and I went to the bus station.”
“And just like that, you came out here?” Casey asked, a look of disbelief crossing his face.
“No, of course not. I didn’t know you—well, your dad—yet. We went to the bus station because we had to have a place to sleep that night. Yes, I parked my baby sister, the one a drunken man had just tried to rape, on a bench in the bus station and I sat watch over her all night, never closing my eyes for even a second, just in case someone far worse than Mike came along.
“So, rather than keep living in the apartment where she was attacked and I was beaten on a weekly basis, I answered your father’s ad. Only I discovered upon my arrival that you weren’t as excited about the idea as he was.”
Casey’s face fell as he remembered his harsh treatment of Miranda and her sister. Was that only a few days ago? He felt ashamed at having taken out his wrath meant for his father on this poor young woman who braved a cross-country trip to become a stranger’s wife—a ranch wife, at that— to exact some measure of independence.
“I apologize for my behavior when we met. I promise it had nothing to do with you. I just resented the fact that I didn’t have a choice.”
“I feel the pain of not having choices every day,” she answered softly.
“Yes, I suppose you do. But if it’s any consolation, it wasn’t you. I would have been an ugly jackass to anyone who had showed up after answering my father’s ad. Oh, wait, what was it you called me? A ‘brutish lout’? I can sort of figure out that it’s not a good thing to be called, but where did you even come up with a phrase like that?”
“Well, let’s just say I’m a big fan of British literature. Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, you name it. And besides, I’ve had more than my fair share of brutish louts lately,” she replied, surprised that he remembered her angry insult. “I know my way around a good lout. First, there was my disgusting ex-boyfriend. Then, there’s a certain cowboy who is too full of his own affairs to look into the needs of others,” she nudged Casey gently with one finger. “and finally, the most disgusting man I’ve yet had the displeasure of meeting. How anyone can abide being in Jack’s presence for more than a few seconds is unfathomable.”
Casey fumed with anger again, remembering Jack’s disgusting offer to have his way with Miranda. He thought of other things to avoid throwing off the bed covers and charging down the stairs that very moment.
“So, how long until I’m out of this bed and back at work on the fences, Doc?” he asked Miranda playfully.
“Well, that depends entirely on the behavior of the patient. You are a perfectly agreeable ward…when you’re unconscious. The times when you’ve been awake, you’ve been quite a handful, what with your trying to get up from the bed and the attempts at ripping out my needlework,” she teased.
“I’m afraid you’re going to learn that I’m always easier to deal with when I’m not awake,” Casey said, his voice taking on a serious tone he hoped would serve as the warning he intended. Miranda was quiet, all humor put aside at Casey’s statement.
“And I’m afraid you’re going to find I’m always easier to deal with when I’m spoken to respectfully, when I’m treated as an equal, and when I’m not expected to pull the bloody clothing off a near-corpse and try to put all of its pieces back together,” she whispered, dropping the barricade she had first put up around her demeanor and letting Casey know how much his accident had scared her. “I am not too proud a person to admit to you that it was almost heart-stopping to see your pale, still body with the blood dripping off of you, and wondering if I’d come all this way only to become a widow before I even became a wife.”
That was all it took. The iron cage Casey had locked his heart into on the day his father had decreed this marriage broke apart, freeing him to finally see the creature fate had put in front of him. He sat up suddenly and took Miranda’s soft face between his weathered, work beaten hands and kissed her lips, letting the warmth of her mouth ignite the part of him that had kept her at arms’ length, burning away the emptiness he had sentenced himself to.
Miranda stiffened at the abruptness of his unexpected kiss, but immediately relaxed as the feeling of his mouth on hers erased all tension in her body. She placed her hands over his and returned his kiss eagerly, delighting in the feeling of desire that built in her, a feeling she’d never experienced before with Mike. When his mouth parted hers gently, she was surprised by the sensation of his tongue playing across hers, awed by his reaction as much as hers. Too soon, he pulled away, still holding her face softly as he spoke to her in earnest.
“I am so sorry,” he began, his embarrassment evident even in the darkened room. “I don’t know what came over me, I just knew I had to kiss you.”
“That’s all right, Mr. Carson,” she teased, answering him tentatively, shocked by how hard it was to slow her heart beat and quiet her breaths.
“It’s Mr. Carson again, is it?” he teased. “I hope you don’t go kissing every Mr. Carson on the place like that. There’s quite a few of us, you know.”
“Only the ones who throw themselves at me,” she shot back in jest.
“My name is Casey,” he answered. “I want to hear you call me Casey.”
“All right…Casey. And I’m Miranda. Miranda Billings.”
“And I’ve made a decision. I want you to become Miranda Carson. Today, if we can.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Today?” Miranda asked, blinking her eyes in surprise.
“Yup. I know all I need to know about you,” he answered confidently.
“And what do you think you know about me?” she asked skeptically, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Apart from the way I kiss, I mean.”
“I know your favorite flower is a hyacinth,” Casey began, sitting up and taking her hands in his. “I know you have a sarcastic sense of humor. I know you’re good to my father and would never say a cross word to him. And I know you’re capable of killing a man if he hurts someone you care about. That is all I need to know about you to be sure I want to marry you.”
“I never said my favorite flower was a hyacinth,” Miranda whispered, still too dazed to argue.
“No, but you wouldn’t have sewn it into my forehead if you hated it. You were only joking, but it would have been your mark. Like Zorro. A flower petaled Zorro.” Casey smiled at her, really seeing her for the first time.
“I’m not even sure it’s actually legally possible to get married today,” she answered. “Besides, don’t these things take time? Aren’t I supposed to be courted and wooed first?” She batted her eyelashes at Casey coyly, making him laugh even harder, before turning serious again. “There’s also the matter of clearing your name. There is still an unsolved murder here, and word is spreading that you’re the one who shot Thomas.”
“That we can easily prove, we just need to get our hands on Jack. I’m sure he’s long gone by now,” Casey mumbled angrily.
“Actually, no, he was picked up as a person of interest when someone else came forward and said you two had been the ones arguing that morning.” Casey smiled at the news. “But, you need your rest and I need to go downstairs to meet with your dad. He does love his meetings, doesn’t he?”
“Oh, yeah, but you’ll get used to that. And it’s weird, but I’ll sit in that office of his anytime he wants me to if it will keep him off a horse or out from under the hooves of the herd. He’s pretty spry for his age, but even he forgets from time to time that he’s in his seventies.”
“Wow, that’s quite an age difference between him and his kids. Were you guys all surprise babies?” Miranda asked, embarrassed to be butting in on the family business.
“Oh no, he just married late. I guess that’s some of what’s dr
iving his little shenanigans with trying to marry us off. He doesn’t talk about it much but when he was young, this farm was barely hanging on. There were plenty of times they almost lost it to the bank, and it sure didn’t have anywhere close to the acreage it has now. He worked himself like crazy to not only save it, but to also protect it for the next generation. He met Mom when he was in his forties, I think, and she was a good bit younger.”
The more Miranda heard about the inner workings of the family business, the more intriguing it sounded. There was a sense of history here, something she could never have as someone who’d lost everyone, everyone but Gracie, of course. It was more than just romantic ideas that kept her thoughts with the Carsons, but more about the feeling of looking for something she’d never even known she’d lost.
“Your dad wants to talk to me about the cattle drive, for some reason,” she began, looking to Casey to see if he might know why. “I think he has plans for me!”
“Are you thinking about going?” he asked hopefully, sitting up taller and placing a pillow behind his back.
“I can’t say it’s something I’ve ever dreamed of doing,” she admitted, looking kind of sheepish. “but it sounds like it might certainly be an adventure. I would really just worry about being in the way, or making someone have to stop working to take care of me.” She looked at Casey pointedly, letting him know her remark was directed to him.
“If you’ve ever seen anything like cattle drives in the Old West...it’s a lot like that, but it’s also completely not like that. Sure, we still sleep outside and we take our meals out of the ‘chuck wagon’, but that chuck wagon is a four-wheel drive rolling mini kitchen. There’s a follow-behind vehicle for emergencies that meets us at different points along the way, and one of the trucks that meets us at each checkpoint even has fold out shower stalls. We do take turns getting a shower, depending on what day it is, because you’re right...we’re there to work, not to have a vacation. But it’s nothing like the olden days when you might die of a scorpion sting because there was no way to get help.”
“I think it would be an awesome thing to do as a family, gathering your kids and taking off for a few days...”
“Um...days? The cattle drive is about two weeks long,” Casey said, cringing as he waited for her reaction, which was sure to be loud and screechy.
“Oh. I didn’t realize it took so long. Well, I’m sure it will be interesting at the very least.”
“It will be and if you’re going, I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself,” he offered, but in a concerned way, not a provocative way like most other guys might have meant it.
“Oh, no, you don’t, Mister! You’re not going anywhere on that leg! How can you possibly drover cattle for two weeks in a cast? The trip is only three weeks away. There’s no way you’ll be healed enough to go.” Miranda’s eyebrows knitted in concern, picturing Casey being thrown from a horse or crushed while trying to navigate the trip on a broken leg.
“Hey, I appreciate your concern, but I’m a Carson and I have a job to do. Even if I have to drive a truck or cook the food, everyone pitches in around here. If you can’t do one job, someone’ll be sure to step up and find you another one. Speaking of which, how are you keeping busy since you got here?” he teased. “There’s plenty of stalls out there that need shoveling.”
“There will be time for shoveling horse poop after I am done dealing with your crap,” Miranda shot back sarcastically. “Now you need your rest,” she said, rising from the bed. “I’ll be back later to check on you.” Casey grabbed her hand as she started to leave, turning her around to face him.
“Thank you, Miranda. For helping me, and for staying. I really mean that.” He looked so little-boy-lost, her heart froze in her chest for a beat. She leaned down and kissed his soft mouth, letting her hand come to rest on the warmth of his scruffy cheek. She stood up and left, smiling to herself.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bernard hung up the phone and looked out one of his office windows, noticing the group of five kids following behind their teacher in a cluster, headed off to do something no-doubt science related in a field somewhere. He was thrilled to see that Gracie no longer hung back behind the four rowdy boys like she did when she first arrived but was right in the middle of the fray, pushing and shoving as much as any other ranch dweller. It was amazing what change a few weeks of sunshine, fresh air, and farm life had done for the quiet girl who’d seemed so lost, so out of place when she arrived.
“Boys! Come in here a second!” Bernard called out when his two oldest sons passed his office door. “I was just about to come outside and tell you.”
“What’s up, Dad?” Carey asked as they both settled into the chairs facing the older man’s desk. Casey leaned back and stretched out his injured leg, glad to be in a walking cast now and enjoying the easier mobility it brought him. Maybe he wouldn’t be stuck driving a rolling grocery store during the drive, after all.
“That was the county district attorney on the phone. Jack confessed!” he yelled, smiling broadly. A weight had been visibly lifted from his shoulders at the news that his son would be free of this shadow over him.
Carey threw an arm around Casey’s shoulders and congratulated him. “So this means Casey can go on the drive now?”
“Wait, what? You two weren’t going to let me go?” Casey demanded, hearing this news for the first time.
“Not us, son, the prosecutor. He agreed to let you stay on the ranch because...face it...where were you gonna go out here? That’s why they didn’t bother locking you up while they sorted this out.”
“Well, that, and plus the fact that you own the largest family-owned ranch in this half of the state, right?” he shot back, wondering if money had changed hands over his not having been arrested.
“No, son, nothing like that. They just knew there was no evidence of wrongdoing on your part. The only reason they were able to keep Jack so long is that he had warrants out for his arrest and had failed to check in with the parole office every time he went out on the drives. It was just a technicality, but it was enough to keep him locked up until this was underway. But, enough about that. Sometime later today, we need to talk about the logistics of who we’re placing in what roles next week.”
They agreed to meet later, and the twins went off in search of lunch. Casey’s heart danced a little when he entered the kitchen with the second wave of hands and found Miranda, elbow-deep in cleaning a pot leftover from the first lunch wave. He tapped her on the shoulder but before he could speak, Cook barked, “Don’t you even think about taking that one! She’s the only one around here who doesn’t mind getting her prissy fingers a little dirty when giving my pans a good scrubbing!”
The other helpers in the kitchen shot pretend looks of rage in Cook’s direction before laughing out loud. “We just knew you’d give Miranda the scrubbing duties if she did it better than we did!” They doubled over, patting Miranda on the shoulder as they did to let her know it was all in good fun.
“In that case,” Cook bellowed, “get her outta here. These two can take over. ‘Course, it’ll take the two of them to equal the work of one Miranda!”
Miranda wiped her hands on a dish towel and threw it over her shoulder, accepting the plate Casey held out and following him to their usual spot on the back porch, where they’d been eating lunch together recently. Between these stolen lunch dates and the few times they’d been able to spend the evening sitting together in the rocking chairs on the front porch, there wasn’t enough time in the day to just get to visit and get to know each other. But the times that she did get to spend with Casey, rocking side by side and holding hands, she knew it was something she could see herself doing for the rest of her life.
Casey took her plate from her hand as she settled on one of the steps, then handed it down to her before joining her. He took a long drink of his sweet tea before starting to eat. “Been busy today?” he asked around mouthfuls of food, something Miranda didn’t mind because time was o
f the essence during all the mid-day meals. It was eat and talk or eat or talk, which explained the atrocious table manners Bernard had hoped she would fix in all of his men.
“Not terribly busy, mostly just pitching in here and there. I helped Gracie with the stalls this morning, just to catch up with her a little bit. I feel like she’s always on the go out here,” Miranda said with a laugh between forkfuls. “But it warms my heart every time I see her out riding or even doing some mindless chore other kids might complain about. She had the chance to ride on the back of the hay truck the other day and call out to the driver to let him know if anyone fell off the back, and you’d think she’d been given the job of driving it instead of just sitting there!”
“Wow, that’s a real testament to what the other guys think of her,” Casey explained, pride showing through in his voice.
“Why do you say that?” Miranda asked, alarm rising in her tone.
“Because that’s not a real job,” Casey admitted, smiling weakly as he explained. “No one’s going to fall off the hay truck and even a guy somehow managed it, the hay truck only goes about fifteen miles an hour. The guy could just run and catch up to it. It comes from that old phrase, you know, ‘He just fell off the turnip truck!’. They just want her to feel included around here, and...well...word kind of got out about what almost happened to her back in New Jersey. The guys just want her to feel safe and needed, but more importantly, it’s a way to keep an eye on her. Nothing can happen to her if she’s busy doing something under their big brotherly watch.”
Miranda was speechless. She knew that many of the hands here at the ranch were the children and even grandchildren of former ranch hands at Carson Hill, but to know that they truly felt like a family left her speechless. She teared up a little bit at the knowledge that some fifty burly cowboys were looking out for her sister, protecting her in a way Miranda had not been able to.
“Hey now! What’s wrong? Why so sad?” Casey asked, brushing Miranda’s hair back from her face. She started to cry for real when he noticed, so he slid closer and held her to him as she let out some of the emotion that had stayed firmly locked inside her since getting on the bus that had brought her here.