12 Borrowing Trouble

by Becky McGraw

  His body tensed beside her. “When I was thirteen.”

  Chris’s age. Sorrow for the young man who lost his mother filled her. “I’m sorry,” she said squeezing his hand which rested on his thigh. “I’m sure that was tough for you and your father.”

  There was silence for a second, and Carrie thought maybe Dylan wouldn’t respond, when he finally said, “It was tough for me, but thanks to the rodeo I survived.”

  Me, not us. Carrie read between the lines to figure out that he didn’t have a father in his life either. Sympathy sent a sharp pain shooting through her chest, and tears burned her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said again, her voice trembling over the words.

  His hand flew up to grip her chin, and he twisted her face toward him. “It was a long time ago. It’s done and I’m over it. Now stop with the morose conversation. It’s not helping you relax,” he grated, before his mouth covered hers in a hot kiss.

  Neither was this kiss, she thought, as he devoured her mouth as if he could wash all thought from her mind. That didn’t happen. His heat, his delicious cedar-tinged scent reminded her of the promise she made to have sex with him tomorrow. He’d couched it as a ride to the lake, but both of them knew what would happen out there.

  Carrie had wanted it to happen Thursday afternoon as much as he did. Probably more. She had been in the middle of a meltdown, and he had comforted her, distracted her. Made her feel alive like she hadn’t felt in three years. Desirable. Not alone. With his suggestion, Dylan had presented the perfect opportunity for her to avoid dealing with what was really bothering her. The situation with Chris, and her financial problems. In the state of mind she was in at the time, his offer looked like a lifeline to her that she grabbed with both hands.

  Today though, since she’d had time to think about things, Carrie wondered if a one-afternoon stand with this man was really such a good idea after all. He was delicious enough, as good looking as they came in a rough, alpha cowboy sort of way, and his kissing was off the charts. She was sure his lovemaking skills would be too. Dylan could get the job done and then some probably, but what about tomorrow?

  He would be history, and her problems would still be there. When she had another meltdown like she knew she would, she would probably look for a similar solution. Carrie had children to think of first. She never wanted them to think she was that kind of woman.

  She turned her head, sliding her mouth off of his. With her hands on his chest, she pushed back to look at him. “Dylan, about Sunday—“

  “There you are!” Terri shouted as she jogged across the yard toward the tree. She was out of breath by the time she got there. “The bride and groom are looking for you. Several guests are too,” Terri said.

  Carrie’s heart shot to her throat, and she pushed up from the swing. “Did it taste okay?” she asked anxiously.

  “I’ll let them answer that,” Terri said with a chuckle, as she hooked her arm with Carrie’s to drag her toward the pavilion. She looked back over her shoulder and saw Dylan slouched down on the swing with his head resting on the back, as he rocked it back and forth.

  When they walked into the light of the pavilion, Terri led her through the crowd toward the other side. She stopped beside a group of wealthy looking older people, who were talking with the bride and groom. All eyes turned their way, and Carrie felt heat crawl up her neck.

  The bride immediately grabbed her into a hug that almost choked the breath out of her. “Thank you so much,” she whispered in her ear, adding an even tighter squeeze, before she finally released Carrie.

  Her head was spinning when a snazzily dressed, unsmiling silver-haired man asked, “Are you the young lady who baked the wedding cake?”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied, swallowing hard, waiting for the hammer of his displeasure to drop on her head. Carrie forced herself to step forward and extend her trembling hand to him. He took it and gave her a fishy handshake like most men did when shaking hands with women. She cleared her throat and stiffened her shoulders. “I’m Carrie Collins, and yes I’m the baker. Did you enjoy it?”

  His weathered face finally cracked, wrinkling around his mouth when he smiled broadly. “Little lady, that was the best damned cake I ever ate. Heaven on a plate,” he said rubbing his belly, as he held up his champagne glass to her.

  Relief washed through her. “Thank you,” she said smiling now, standing a little taller.

  A tall woman in a sparkly black evening dress stepped around him. She extended her hand to Carrie. “I’m Regina, Rollie’s wife. The bride’s mother.” The woman’s coral-colored mouth stretched in a wide smile. “I have to agree with my husband, Ms. Collins, your cake was spectacular. So good in fact, I plan on recommending you to all of my friends. Do you do special occasion cakes too? Or just weddings?” she asked politely.

  Fake it til you make it. Terri’s words floated through her mind. “I ah, can do any kind of cake,” Carrie replied, forcing confidence in her tone and posture. If she looked up the recipe online, and practiced, she was sure that was true.

  The woman’s smile broadened, and she opened her clutch to pull out a piece of paper. “These are the phone numbers of my friends who have family members getting married soon. On the back are those having anniversaries and birthdays. They’ll all need cakes, and I’ll be giving them a call to sing your praises and break the ice for your call.”

  “Wow, thank you so much,” Carrie said, dumbfounded as she looked at the lengthy list the woman had given her. Her mental calculator clicked off the money she could make if she was given all these orders. Her knees went weak.

  Terri dropped her arm around Carrie’s shoulders. “Let’s go have some of that spectacular cake ourselves, and a glass of champagne,” she suggested, turning Carrie to lead her toward the cake table. She squeezed her shoulders and said, “Good job. This is pretty exciting, huh?”

  Yes, very exciting. Except for one thing. Carrie had nowhere to bake all of these cakes.

  They stopped at the cake table, and Terri picked up a saucer and turned to hand it to her. Her eyebrows slammed together between her green eyes. “Why are you so pale?”

  “I don’t feel well,” Carrie said putting a hand to her stomach, wadding the paper in her other hand as her fist clenched against a sharp pain. Her stomach was a boiling cauldron, as she watched her dreams fly out the window.

  “Let’s go to the house so you can lay down,” Terri said setting the plate down on the table. “You’ve been a wreck today. You need a break.” Inside the house, Terri walked her to the sofa and she sat down. Terri pulled off her high heels, then shoved her shoulder. “Lay back on those pillows. I’m going to get us a drink.”

  Carrie tried to relax, and put her feet up on the sofa. A minute later Terri walked back into the room with two shot glasses, and handed one to Carrie. “Drink up,” she said throwing her head back to lift her own glass to her lips.

  “I don’t know if I can—“

  “Drink it!” Terri said sitting on the sofa beside her feet.

  Carrie’s hand shook as she raised the glass to her mouth and took a sip. The liquid burned down her throat, but by the time it hit her stomach a warmth spread through her veins. Whiskey, good whiskey. The warmth spread through her whole body, and she did relax a little more. “Thanks,” Carrie said with a forced smile.

  “Okay, now spill it.”

  “The whiskey? Carrie asked in confusion, downing the last sip of amber liquid.

  “No—tell me what the hell is wrong with you? Did Dylan hurt you?” she asked angrily.

  “No!” Carrie shouted sitting up on the sofa. “He’s been amazing.”

  “What’s wrong then?” Terri asked pinning her with her eyes.

  “I want to do this baking thing.” She uncurled her fist and sat the shot glass on the coffee table, to smooth out the crumpled paper. “I’m totally amazed that woman was so impressed she gave me all those names.”

  “And that upset you?”

  “No, no…I can’
t take the orders,” Carrie said, casting her eyes down at the paper, so Terri didn’t see the frustrated tears that burned there.

  “Why the hell not?” Terri demanded.

  “I don’t have anywhere to bake them. I live with my parents, and the kitchen is small and old. There’s no way I could pull off a cake like the one I just baked there. That’s what those people will expect.”

  When Terri got quiet, Carrie glanced back up to see she was deep in thought. Her lips twisted, and she sighed before saying, “I told Joel we needed to put in a catering kitchen out at the pavilion so the food we serve is fresher. The caterers could just cook out there.”

  “That would cost a fortune,” Carrie said before she could stop herself.

  Terri just smiled. “We’ve made a fortune off of events out there. They could be bigger and better if we had catering facilities. That’s the only reason some people choose to book a venue in town over us. We’ve got the relaxed atmosphere most want, but the hotels in town have the in-house catering.”

  “Well, good luck convincing Joel of that,” Carrie said looking at the empty shot glass, wishing it was full again.

  “If we added an industrial oven out there we could do the baking here too,” Terri said thoughtfully. “You could bake cakes for events everywhere, not just our events. If you do an event that’s not ours, you could just pay rent to use the kitchen, and charge that to your customer.”

  Carrie shook her head. “This place is too far from my parents’ ranch for that to be feasible. They’re out in the boonies.”

  “So move here,” Terri suggested quickly.

  Carrie snorted. “I can’t pay rent right now. I’m up to my eyeballs in debt.”

  “I’m sure we could work something out. You take a smaller cut on the cakes you do for us, so we make more. I know I can keep you busy, and you can still make good money to help with those bills.”

  “I have two kids. They’d just get in your way out here. And there’s school to think about too. I already enrolled them both in the school by my parents’ ranch.”

  “I have a kid, and Rocky is always giving riding lessons to children out here. There are always kids at this ranch. Your children would not get in the way. As for school, we have the best school district in the county. They have 4-H and junior rodeo programs. It would probably be good for them.”

  “Building that kitchen would take months. I’m sure the events on this list would be long over by then,” Carrie said.

  “You can bake in the house until we get it built,” Terri countered, then dropped her hand on Carrie’s knee. “I want to help you, hon. Stop looking for excuses and just say thank you.”

  Emotion shot up to her throat, but she managed to squeeze out, “Thank you.”

  “Now you go to your room, get undressed and take a long hot bath. Relax. Stop worrying. Trust me, things are going to work out just fine,” Terri said with a big grin.

  It was after ten o’clock at night, she should be bone tired, but what Carrie was right now was wound for sound. Terri’s plan sounded good, but unless she changed and took a walk to burn off some of the conflicting emotions making her mind whirl, she would never be able to sleep tonight. “I need to go for a walk and think.”

  And make a decision about her future. Making a move out here so soon after moving to her parents’ ranch might not be good for her or her kids. Too much upheaval and change. But like Terri said, it might be good for them too. Carrie was so confused she didn’t know what to do.

  “You’ve been doing too much thinking. That’s your problem,” Terri said with a sigh as she stood. “You’re going to drive yourself nuts.”

  “It’s not a far drive,” Carrie shot back, as she stood too.

  “Stop anticipating problems, inviting them to happen. And stop feeling sorry for yourself! Yeah, you got thrown, and it sucks. I’ve been there too, but you’ve got to get back in the saddle. Life is waiting for you to hop on and ride again, Carrie.”

  Hop on and ride. That brought her back to her promise to ride with Dylan in the morning. Stop thinking. Get back in the saddle. Her mind started whirling again, mulling over the pep talk she’d just received from the only person who had the balls to give her one since Sean died. Everyone else walked on eggshells when they ran across her.

  “Thanks, I think I will,” Emotion choking her, Carrie stepped forward to hug her new friend. “Thanks for everything.”

  Terri hugged her tightly then stepped back. “Deep breath, honey. Just breathe…” Terri said with a chuckle. “I’m going to find my handsome husband and tell him the same thing. I think he might be in overload mode too, or buried in that paperwork I have him doing. I guess I’ll have mercy and dig him out. I have plans for his fingers tonight that don’t include a calculator.” Terri waggled her eyebrows comically, before she headed across the living room to the hallway.

  Carrie smiled as she watched Terri head off down the hall, then bent to pick up her heels. She carried them upstairs and hurriedly changed into jeans and her boots, then pulled her hair into a ponytail. She was going for that walk, but she was determined not to think. She would just enjoy the night, walk off her problems. Tomorrow she was getting back in the saddle. She knew like Cinderella at midnight, at five o’clock tomorrow evening her reality would return, but until then she was going to ride like there was no tomorrow.

  Dylan better eat his Wheaties and be ready for it, for her, she thought with a laugh as she hurried back downstairs.

  The next morning Carrie was up before dawn. A strange sense of exhilaration held her captive as she dressed and headed downstairs to the kitchen to make a picnic lunch for them. The sun was just about up when she finished stuffing the ham sandwiches she’d made with her leftover homemade bread, some of the cupcakes she’d made the other day, and some new sugar cookies she’d baked this morning into the tote she’d found in the pantry.

  Dylan seemed to like sugar cookies, and since she’d burned the last batch she made a single batch this morning to take with them. For him.

  She all but skipped across the dew-covered yard as she walked toward the barn through the quiet morning. Peace settled around her shoulders like a soft sweater, and she inhaled deeply of the cool, crisp morning air. It was a feeling she hadn’t had in years. Not just since Sean died, before then. Before she got married.

  Carrie used to love to go for morning rides on her parents’ ranch just to find this particular feeling. This morning she felt free. Like a load of bricks had been lifted from her shoulders. She walked into the barn and a large hand dropped on her shoulder.

  “I was wondering if you would stand me up again,” Dylan said smoothly, as he tugged her arm until they were in a small darkened room that smelled like rich molasses and corn. He took the bag from her and sat it on the ground, then cupped her chin with his hand. Tilting her face upward, his lips covered hers in a slow, delicious kiss that made her feel like she was floating in the clouds.

  When he finally pulled away, a half-smile cocked one corner of his talented mouth. “Yep, sugar cookies. I smelled you before I saw you,” he drawled.

  “That’s because I made some,” she informed him dreamily. “They’re in the bag, along with some sandwiches and cupcakes. I thought we might get hungry on our ride.”

  “You made cookies for me?” he asked with raised brows.

  You bake cookies. Not my type. At the time she did it, Carrie hadn’t considered how he might take the gesture. “Um, well since I burned the first batch, I wanted to redeem myself. They’re for everyone,” she improvised.

  “You’re right…” he said with a laugh.

  “About what?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “About being a terrible liar. Admit it. You made me cookies,” Dylan accused with a sigh.

  She had, but she wasn’t going to let him change his mind because she confirmed his suspicions about her not being his type. Today, she was going to be exactly his type. Tomorrow might be a different story, but today they we
re perfect for each other.

  Life is waiting for you to hop back on and ride.

  Carrie was about to get back in the saddle, and ride like she hadn’t ridden in years. And she wasn’t leaving the barn without this handsome cowboy.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Let’s go riding,” Carrie said pushing away from the wall. She brushed past him, and he followed. When Dylan stepped around her, she saw that he had picked up the bag of goodies.

  “I had Sheedy help me saddle the horses,” he said with a smile, as he grabbed her hand to pull her with him toward the back door of the barn. “They’re tied out back. Terri’s horse, Diamond, is pretty sedate, so I figured she’d be good for you.”

  Irritation prickled at the base of her skull. Carrie didn’t want sedate, she didn’t want to ride a barn sour nag with no get up and go. She wanted to run. Today, she was a free woman. She wanted to feel the wind on her face and a powerful horse beneath her.

  They walked out into the sunlight and she shaded her eyes. Tied to the fence post beside the barn were two horses. One was a big sorrel gelding with a white blaze on his muzzle, and the other a pretty, petite white mare. Carrie pulled her hand out of his and walked past Dylan to the fence. She climbed it, and dropped down on the other side beside the gelding.

  Without asking, she untied his reins and led him a few feet away from the fence. She pulled on the stirrup to test that the saddle wasn’t loose, then ran her hand over his rump. His tail caught the side of her face as he swatted at a fly, and she laughed.

  “That’s my horse,” Dylan protested with a laugh as he walked up beside her. Carrie just looked up at him and smiled. He tossed a thumb over his shoulder at the other horse, who was munching on grass at the bottom of the fence. “That’s your horse.”

  “I don’t think so,” Carrie said with a grin as she grabbed the reins loosely. She had to reach way up, but she managed to grab the saddle horn. Lifting her leg, she got her foot in the stirrup. With a bounce, she pushed upward, balanced a moment, then threw her leg over the horse’s back. It took a little effort, but she managed to get centered. The stirrups were too long, but she wasn’t about to get down to adjust them. She could ride bareback, so she could ride fine in this big saddle without using them.