by Becky McGraw
“Well, Ray is worried you will. He sent me out here to make sure you know what’ll happen if you talk to the feds. If the other branch goes, the whole tree goes and it falls right on you. Got that?”
The feds? Carrie wondered what the hell was going on. Was Zane in trouble with the law? Were they after him? And who the hell was this man threatening him? Branches? Trees? None of it made sense to her.
A door slammed loudly, and she saw Chris running hell-bent-for-leather across the yard toward the barn. His hat flew off, but he didn’t stop, until he got to the barn. “Dylan, I’m sorry. I couldn’t find Terri,” he said, heaving for breaths, then his eyes locked with the younger thug and they widened.
“So this is where the fuck you went. I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” the teenager said, grinning widely. “Where the hell is my money?”
Chris’s face paled as he walked backwards toward the door of the barn, where he pirouetted then took off running. With a glance after Chris, then a hard look at the teenager, the cowboy grabbed the kid’s arm to drag him toward the bent up pickup parked under the tree. They got in fast, and Carrie tried to make out the dirty, bent up license plate on the front of the truck, then looked again at the one on the back, as the truck spun to speed away. Neither was legible. She couldn’t help but think that was on purpose.
Those were not good guys. And one of them knew her son.
Carrie’s stomach lurched as she staggered toward Zane and Dylan. She had to find Chris, find out what was going on here. It was something bad, she knew. Money? Was that the money she’d found under his mattress? Had her son lied to her about where it had come from?
She was an idiot for not asking more questions. At the barn door, a hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Carrie, wait…I need to talk to you.”
The serious tone in Dylan’s voice almost made her ask him about what, but right now she had other, more important things to deal with. Besides, she didn’t really want to hear anything Dylan had to say to her. Their time in the sun was gone. His short chapter in her book was written, finished. No more words were needed.
“Mommy, Chris wouldn’t help me put my new saddle on my pony,” Izzy said petulantly as she folded her arms across her chest. “Dylan gave me a new saddle for Snowy, and I want to ride her. Rocky isn’t here.”
“Where did Chris go, Izzy?” Carrie grated, filing away the fact that Dylan had given her daughter another gift. Maybe she had a few more words for him after all.
Later, before she left this ranch, she was going to have a Come-to-Jesus talk with him about making people love him by his actions, making them form attachments he had no intention of returning. Obviously the asshole didn’t have a clue how he hurt people when he did that.
But first, her son was going to tell her where the hell he’d really gotten that money she found under his mattress. The money she’d used up to move them to her parents’ ranch. The money she didn’t have to pay back the thugs he obviously owed a great deal of money.
Carrie had been a blind sheep. But she wasn’t anymore. When she got done with him, her son would definitely know she wasn’t a woman to be messed with. He would well remember never to lie to her. No matter what.
“He ran toward the creek,” Izzy said. “I’ll get Snowy saddled, and go get him,” she said with excitement.
“You go into the house and find Terri. Stay put until I come back to get you,” Carrie said holding her daughter’s gaze. “I’m going to find your brother.”
“I’ll come with you,” Dylan said darkly, his hand falling off of her shoulder.
“No thank you,” Carrie replied tersely, walking into the barn. She opened Diamond’s stall door and grabbed her halter. “Zane, would you mind getting the saddle and bridle for me out of the tack room?”
“Sure thing, love,” he said, as he headed down the aisle.
Dylan growled behind her, but she ignored him. She walked out of the stall and led Diamond to the fence surrounding the indoor arena. Zane came back and dropped the saddle. She took the blanket from him and threw it over the horse’s back, then picked up the saddle and with a grunt swung it onto the mare’s back.
“Carrie, let him help you do that,” Dylan growled. “You’re not going to get it tight enough.”
“I’ve got this, Dylan. This isn’t my first rodeo, I can saddle a fricking horse. Go get your arm looked at. I don’t need help.”
“I can help you, love,” Zane offered, grabbing the saddle horn to shift the saddle to a better position. Carrie elbowed him out of the way, and grabbed the girth strap.
“Carrie, let him help you!” Dylan grated, then he looked at Zane. “And stop fucking calling her love, asshole!”
Carrie tightened the cinch, tested the saddle then slapped the mare’s gut to make sure she wasn’t holding wind. She spun around to face Dylan. “Mind your own business, Dylan. Go get your damned shoulder looked at. I don’t need or want your help. I’ll deal with you later. Right now, I need to talk to my son.”
Carrie grabbed the bridle and stood in front of the mare to slide it on her face, then grabbed the reins. Dylan was still standing there, but she ignored him as she bent and tightened the strap more, then tested the saddle again, before she put her left foot in the saddle to hoist herself up on Diamond’s back. The mare nickered and her ears perked up. Carrie kneed her and left him standing there.
She rode toward the creek, toward Terri’s house, scanning the pasture for any sign of movement. This afternoon ride had taken on a new purpose. Instead of unwinding, the closer to the creek she got, the tighter the band around her chest became. Carrie didn’t want to know what Chris was involved with, but she had to know. Whatever it was had to be bad.
If that was the case, it could mean he was in more trouble. That could affect the pending charges against him, affect his proof to the judge that he had indeed made a change to become a good kid out at the New Hope Ranch. Billy and Sharon might kick him out when they found out.
Her heart squeezed as fear clawed at her insides. If that happened, the hanging judge might decide to give him the maximum sentence possible to teach him a lesson. To keep him off the street to keep him out of trouble. If he was behind bars, he wouldn’t be able to cause more trouble. At least on the outside. At the rate he was going, Carrie had a bad feeling that trouble would always follow her son, hover like a black cloud over his head for his entire life.
Not if she had anything to do with it. It was time for her to get her own head out of the clouds so she could help him find his way back to the right path.
She would remove him from the New Hope Ranch before Sharon and Billy found out about this, before they had no choice but to tell the court. They would move back to her parents’ ranch, and she would work his ass off there. Carrie wouldn’t be alone trying to run that ranch, her son was going to help her. She wasn’t a man herself, but she felt for sure she could teach her son how to become a good man. She’d had a good teacher, her father was a good man.
She would home school him herself to keep him away from any temptation to get into mischief, from the temptation of getting involved with a bad crowd who could lead him into trouble again. And get him into church. There were youth groups there, and plenty of good examples for him to follow. The volunteer activities there would keep him busy in his free time. He wouldn’t have any free time if she had anything to do with it.
Carrie prayed, but she had never been a good church-going woman. With the chores she’d have ahead of her running a ranch alone that probably wouldn’t change. But her son was going to be in that pew her parents formerly occupied every Wednesday and Sunday, even if she wasn’t. Maybe her tough love, bible thumping father had the right idea. She was going to find out, because that was exactly how she was going to deal with her son from here on out.
And he was going to like it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dylan was thankful when the ibuprofen Terri had given him kicked in. The ice pack on his shoulder was help
ing too. Terri had checked out his shoulder and didn’t think he needed to go to the emergency room. The relief he felt at hearing those words almost took him to his knees. The injury he’d gotten from stupidly letting the kid run that machine, for showing off for him, wasn’t going to delay his leaving.
But the medicine and the ice pack didn’t help the pain in his chest he’d been having for three weeks. That pain only got worse when the doctor handed him the white slip of paper a few days ago, which gave him clearance to go back to work. Back to riding again. The elation and freedom he expected to feel never came, but the regrets sure did.
He had already spoken to Joel the afternoon he got his clearance to tell him he was leaving. That meeting had been angry and emotional, something Dylan never wanted to have to repeat again. He was leaving Monday morning. A friend had found him a job as a chute man, and he was catching up with the guys in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma. It was with a smaller circuit, but at least it was a job associated with the rodeo. One he could do until he could ride again next season.
That’s why he had been spending time with Izzy and Chris. Saying goodbye to them. Carrie had been last on his list, his hardest goodbye, but he hadn’t gotten to talk to her yet. He had a present for her too, but he didn’t know if he’d ever have the opportunity to give it to her. Even if he did, she’d probably throw it in his face now.
She was pissed at him for avoiding her, and she had every right to be.
But Dylan had no choice about it. Chris had been withholding information from her that he would have been too tempted to tell her. Obligation to do just that had been sitting on his chest like a lead weight for the entire time he’d been avoiding her. He’d tried to give the envelope he had for her at the house, and she’d kicked him out of the kitchen, because like a dumbass he’d asked her if she was pregnant first, instead of talking to her first.
He’d just been too damned nervous, and asked the question that had been riding his shoulder since they made love at his trailer. Her answer would have changed his decision to leave. Would have changed his life. But she wasn’t pregnant, Dylan was not going to be a father, he was going back to his old life. He had tried to find happiness about that since she told him, relief, but all he had been able to find was a little disappointment.
That shocked him to his core. But then Dylan realized with the poor ass way he’d handled the situation with Chris, withholding information from his mother, he would be a terrible father anyway. God knew what he was doing there.
When Carrie came out to the barn this afternoon, he thought he might have his chance to talk to her, but then all hell had broken loose with the accident and then Zane and his visitors. And then she took off after Chris.
The best he was going to be able to do was write her a note, and give it to Terri for her. That would probably make her angrier too, because it was cold and impersonal. But if she wouldn’t let him near her, what else was he supposed to do?
Stay and marry her.
Dylan’s stomach seesawed, and he swallowed hard. No, he was definitely not going there. He didn’t know the first thing about love and marriage or parenting. He would fuck up and hurt them all. He’d already done that with her. It would only get worse if he stayed. They would all be better off without him trying to insinuate himself into their lives. He wanted to be with her like no other woman he’d ever been with before.
Something magical happened inside of him when he was with her. He was a better person. But the baggage and responsibility that came with her was heavy. She would find a man one day who was equipped to help her unpack that baggage. Dylan was not that man.
He hoped she found a way to get through to Chris. When she found him this afternoon, Dylan hoped the kid would come clean with her. Tell her what was going on with him. Carrie would understand, she would help him figure things out.
Dylan also hoped Chris didn’t mention that he knew. Because if he did, Carrie would probably never speak to him again. Hell, she was already at that point. That would just cement in her mind that he was an asshole. Dylan would love the chance to talk to the kid too, but she probably wouldn’t allow that now either.
It was obvious that things were coming to a head there, since the rough kid who was with the cowboy messenger recognized Chris. The gang he’d been hooked up with would probably know exactly where he was now and come looking for their money. Chris had to know that too.
Thank goodness Carrie had told him she was moving back to her parents’ ranch in the boonies. They would be safe there, and he wouldn’t have to worry about them. Otherwise, he’d be staying to make sure of it. Dylan seemed to be looking for any excuse to change his mind now that he could leave, and that pissed him off.
He knew he’d still worry though. Even if he was a thousand miles from Carrie and the kids, even if he knew they were safe. Somehow the kids and the sexy widow had worked their way inside his heart and mind. Everyone at this ranch had managed to do that.
He would miss them something awful, and that was a new feeling for him. Something he’d never experienced before. Well except for when he lost his brothers. Dylan had been devastated then, but he knew from experience he would eventually get over the way he was feeling. Sick in his heart. Eventually he’d be able to get on with his life and stop missing them. Stop worrying. He just needed to get moving.
He’d let himself get attached to these people. There wouldn’t be a next time for that. This hurt as bad as losing his brothers had hurt. Emotion welled up in his chest and shot to his eyes. His nostrils flared, and he swallowed it back down, letting his breath out slowly, as he repacked his duffle bag. Maybe he’d just leave tomorrow morning. It would only take him five and half hours or so to get to Oklahoma. He’d just go early to get settled and meet the guys. Start his new life. Start forgetting this place and these people.
***
Sunday morning Carrie helped Chris load the last box into the back of Zane’s truck. She wasn’t waiting until her parents left to move back to the house. She needed her daddy to get her up to speed on running the ranch before he left next week. Besides with what Chris told her yesterday evening by the creek, the faster they left this ranch the better.
The thugs he’d been running drugs with knew where they lived now. And he owed them twelve grand, eight of which Carrie had spent moving her small family to her parents’ ranch the first time. Because her son had lied to her about where it came from.
Chris was distraught now, but remorseful. He was also afraid, which was a damned good thing in her opinion. His poor decisions had endangered all of them. That fear might help him make better ones in the future. She could only hope.
His actions could still endanger the people at this ranch, the folks she now considered friends. And she couldn’t even tell them. Terri would probably tell her to call the police, or call herself. That wasn’t something Carrie could do. The court would find out Chris was involved, and with the trouble already on his doorstep, he would be taken away from her. Probably sent to juvenile hall until he was twenty-one.
Carrie was not letting that happen. She’d only told Terri that her parents were moving, and she had to move back to the ranch immediately to take care of it, which wasn’t a lie, but wasn’t the whole truth either. And because Terri was so upset, Carrie had agreed to continue to bake for her on a small scale. The money would help Carrie too, even though she’d have to drive a hundred miles to deliver anything she baked, and spend most of what she had saved from the other baking jobs to remodel the kitchen at her parents’ ranch.
The big cake jobs would have to go to other local vendors. Carrie just couldn’t do it. She would have a ranch to run, and three backs to watch in case those thugs showed up at the ranch. She would be ready if that happened. Those thugs would meet her, the business end of her daddy’s shotgun, and the good people of Sugar Bush, Texas.
The sugar mill and jobs were long gone, but the people who stayed in her small hometown still watched out for each other. When they found out h
er parents were moving and she and the kids would be out there alone, they would watch out for her. They would all be fine. That is what she’d been telling herself since yesterday, after she called her parents to tell her father she would take the ranch.
Thank goodness Zane was off work today, and he’d agreed to help her move. He’d also agreed to come out and help her at the ranch on his days off. That offer had completely blown her away. At least she’d have a little help after her father left. And maybe a little added protection out there too. He even offered to help her remodel the kitchen, do the carpentry work, which would make her money go a lot farther.
Zane Lawrence was not only a good looking man, he was multi-talented, kind and caring, thoughtful. A good man. Why the hell couldn’t she fall in love for the second time in her life with someone like him? She’d always considered herself a smart woman, but falling in love with Dylan Thomas had just been dumb. The dumbest thing she’d ever done in her life.
Chris had told her something else out by that creek yesterday that cemented that fact. Dylan knew about the trouble Chris had gotten himself into. And he hadn’t told her. He’d promised Chris he wouldn’t tell her. Don’t be mad mom, Chris said, I made him promise not to tell. Carrie wasn’t mad. She was livid, and very glad she hadn’t gotten in deeper with the obviously confused and immature cowboy.
The trouble Chris had bought himself, and his family, was serious.
Dylan should never have made that promise to him. As the adult in the situation, or supposed adult, he should have told her regardless. But Dylan had been trying to be Chris’s buddy, and that’s not what her son needed. He hadn’t even done a good job at that. Even a buddy who cared about her son would have told her. Dylan hadn’t said a word, he’d just avoided her. She figured out that’s why he had been scarce for the last few weeks.