Counting on Love (Contemporary Cowboy Romance) (Carson Hill Ranch series: Book 3) (4 page)

Carey leaned his head back against the seat of the truck and wrapped his arms around Amy, pulling her closer to him so that her back rested against his chest. Together, shifted in their seats so they could mostly stretch their legs out on the front seat, they looked out through the open windows at the dark sky dotted with millions of stars. Amy sighed happily as Carey kissed the top of her head, breathing in the familiar and comforting smell of her shampoo.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she teased, snuggling into Carey’s chest and resting her head on his shoulder, breathing in the decadent scent of fresh cut grass and hay that always seemed to permeate his clothes.

“At least this time it’s not because my drunken brother was making an ass of himself in town,” Carey said with a smile, even though his tone was only half-joking.

“No, he hasn’t come into town lately. I guess your father reined him in and put a tight leash on him, huh?”

Carey didn’t answer right away. Besides being a part of the Carson family and making it a family habit not to talk about each other outside of the ranch, Joseph was Carey’s brother, his younger brother at that, and he needed looking after. He wrestled with protecting Joseph’s privacy and dignity, but gave in. Amy was, after all, his fiancé, and would be part of the Carson family soon enough.

“Actually, no. I don’t think my dad really understands how serious it is,” Carey said quietly.

“How serious is it?” Amy asked, tensing noticeably in Carey’s arms, her voice becoming stronger when he didn’t answer. “Carey? I said, how serious is it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m no doctor, but something isn’t right. The reason Joseph hasn’t been back into town to drink his problems away is because he can’t even get out of bed. He lays there all day long, taking more pills like he has a built in alarm clock telling him when it’s time.”

Amy sat up suddenly and turned to look at Carey. “I thought he didn’t have any more pills.”

“Relax, Sheriff, there’s no need to call in the DEA for a drug bust this time,” Carey teased, reminding her of how she landed the job as Sheriff in the first place, when she made the connection between the former Sheriff and Mack’s meth business. He pulled her close to him again. “I did look the other way when he helped himself to what was left off the pills the doctor gave me for my accident a few months back, though. Wait, I hope I didn’t just confess to a crime in front of the county Sheriff.”

“I think I can be persuaded to look the other way just this once, but only because you’re sexy and because I’ve already strip searched you once tonight.”

“You could strip search me again, just to be safe,” Carey answered with a low growl, moving her long red curls away from her neck to give him access to the soft, sensitive skin. He let his warm lips move across her exposed flesh, thrilling at the feeling of her trembling slightly in his arms from his touch.

“That’s definitely in my plans, but you just keep doing that thing you’re doing with your mouth. Over to the left just a hair,” she answered with a breathy laugh. “But we do still have to talk about Joseph. If your dad doesn’t see the problem in front of him, what are we going to do?”

A pleasant chill ran up Carey’s spine at her use of the word “we”. He kissed her more hungrily, making his way to her collarbone and pulling back her shirt collar gently to suck at her skin. He increased the pressure of his lips against her when she reached a hand behind her to run her fingers through his hair. Amy finally turned in his arms to face him, letting her lips find his in the darkness, pulling his face toward hers.

Gasping, she finally broke the kiss, leaning her head back as Carey continued his wonderful assault of her neck. “Carey, I’m serious. Joseph, remember?”

“Joseph who?” he answered playfully, snaking one hand under the hem of her t-shirt, inching none too slowly toward her breasts.

“I can’t remember, either,” she answered, returning to kissing Carey once more and arching her back under his touch, begging him silently to move higher, shivering when he finally cupped her breasts tenderly. “Wait, now I remember,” she answered sarcastically, pushing Carey’s hand away and sitting up.

“Amy…” Carey growled, pouting at the unfairness of being pushed away.

“Yes, yes, the clothes come off in a minute,” she joked, rolling her eyes for emphasis. “But your brother, remember? The young guy who’s both in pain and apparently addicted to pills? Him?”

Carey let out an exasperated sigh, but sat up straighter and nodded. “We’ve convinced my dad to take him to see another doctor. They’re supposed to go to Dallas and see a specialist, and run a bunch of tests when they’re there. Casey thinks that once Joseph realizes we believe him and that we’re trying to get him real help, he won’t need to drink or take so much medication.”

“You know addiction doesn’t work that way. It’s not just some mental crutch he can simply get over, it’s a very real physiological thing,” she warned him. Carey nodded again.

“Yeah, but I think Casey has another point. We think part of Joseph’s problem is that he can’t do the things he loves, the things he’s done since he was born. He’s a cowboy, but his own body isn’t letting him
be
a cowboy anymore. Once the body heals, then his spirit can heal, too.

“So, to help him heal, he has to be able to know what he can and can’t do yet. We thought we’d put him in charge of teaching Gracie the ropes and helping Seamus and Jacob learn to make new tack, stuff like that. This way, he’s still out there doing cowboy things on the ranch, but at a much less strenuous level.”

It was Amy’s turn to think but finally, she nodded. “It makes some sense, I guess. In his mind, if he can’t be a cowboy any more, he might as well be a zombie, right? And the pills let him do just that.” She nodded, the decision made in her mind. “So get him help, and at least see what this second opinion has to say. But I’m not sure that taking someone under his wing will be enough to make him feel like he’s a part of the ranch again. You’ll have to really watch him to see how it goes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Carey answered firmly, his crooked grin melting any resolve Amy had been holding onto. She slipped her t-shirt off over her head before going to work on the buttons of Carey’s shirt, pressing their flesh together as she kissed him more hungrily than before.

“Whatcha have there, kiddo?” Miranda asked, coming around the corner as Gracie moved stealthily toward the front door, her arms loaded down with odds and ends. Gracie looked up in surprise.

“Um, just some stuff I thought would make the hay loft more comfortable. You know, kind of like a tree house, only without the tree,” she answered quickly, smiling at her own silly attempt at humor.

“Oh, right. And also, if said tree house was actually a hayloft situated right above about thirty smelly horses,” Miranda joked. “And if this tree house of yours was bathed in perpetual darkness. Do you really need to redecorate the hayloft at this time of night?”

“Well, if I don’t do it now, I’ll forget,” Gracie hedged. “I always mean to bring this stuff up there but then I forget, and then the next time I’m reading up there, I don’t have a blanket and the hay is all scratchy and…”

“Okay! I get it! It’s a pressing matter!” Miranda said with a laugh, throwing her hands in the air in surrender. “Um, I’m not sure the food is a good idea, though. That could draw vermin. Let’s leave that here, and you can come in for meals like a normal person, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” Gracie answered, her face falling slightly as she planned out how she’d have to sneak back with it after bedtime. She moved to hand over the plastic dish of leftovers and snack foods, but the shift in her carefully arranged pile sent some of her books falling to the floor.

Miranda reached down and scooped up the books but instead of replacing them on the pile, she walked towards the door and held it open for Gracie. “Come on, I’ll carry these. You go ahead.” Gracie froze. “Don’t stand here letting the cold air in, come on! I’m right behind you!”

Gracie still didn’t move but instead, she reached for her books. “Um…I got this. Here.”

Miranda eyed her suspiciously before setting the books down on a side table, throwing her hands on her hips, and staring her little sister down. “Gracie Billings, what is going on? And I want the entire truth, right now.”

The girl’s shoulders slumped in defeat before she began to cry. “There’s a homeless person in the hayloft, and I’m taking this stuff up there to…”

“What?” Miranda interrupted, struggling to keep her voice down. “There’s a homeless man in the barn?” She looked around to see if anyone had heard them, pulling her sister toward the coat closet in the front entryway.

“No, a homeless girl. She’s one of the girls who lived in the cabin, remember?” Recognition flashed across Miranda’s face at the memory, and she put a hand across her eyes briefly, thinking this through. “Please don’t say anything to Bernard or Casey! They’ll send her away!”

“Gracie, don’t be ridiculous, they won’t send her ‘away’ and they certainly won’t do it at this time of night. But she can’t live in the hayloft!” Miranda took the items out of Gracie’s arms, settling them next to the pile of books, before regarding her sister’s worried expression with a mixture of pride at her compassion for someone, and confusion on how they could make this work. “Come on, let’s go get her out of the barn.”

Together, Miranda and Gracie crossed the wide yard to the stable and climbed the ladder to the loft. Gracie held out her flashlight, pointing its beam to the floor, then called out to Emma. Emma stuck her head up from behind a hay bale, but her expression turned somber when she recognized that there were two dark figures behind the light, not just one.

“Gracie? You told on me? No! I trusted you,” Emma began, a whimper forming in her shaky voice.

“It’s okay, Emma. This is my sister, Miranda,” the girl explained. “I didn’t mean to tell her, but she figured out I was hiding something. But she’s going to help you, I promise,” Gracie said, enunciating her last words with a direct look at her sister.

“That’s right, Emma. You can’t stay up here, you’ll freeze. Come on in the house and have something to eat. You can bunk in Gracie’s room for the time being.” Miranda held out a hand to the scared girl, relieved when she stood up and stretched out her own thin hand. Miranda helped her through the dark loft until she was safely on the ground, then smiled at her as she led the way to the main house.

Inside the warm, brightly lit house, Emma seemed to visibly shrink, wanting nothing more than to become invisible. She looked around at the huge chandelier overhead and the gleaming staircase that followed the curve of the light to the vast second floor, and felt insignificant, out of place even. She was dirty, damaged goods, and had no place in a house like this.

“Come on, Emma, I’ll show you my room!” Gracie said, excited at now having the closest thing to a sleepover she’d ever had. “Up here!” She took off up the stairs, leaving Miranda to nudge Emma forward with a promising nod. Emma reached out to put her hand on the stair rail but pulled it back before she could soil it, then followed Gracie into one of the rooms.

“Who was that?” Joseph asked as he slowly pulled himself up from the leather sofa facing the roaring fire. He looked toward the second floor door where Emma had disappeared, amazement clearly written on his face.

“Oh, just this girl…” Miranda began noncommittally, watching the bewildered but interested expression on Joseph’s face. This was the first thing he’d shown any interest in for months, and was standing there, half slack jawed at having seen a new face.

“A girl? Really…” Joseph answered, still dazed as he watched for her. The look of genuine interest on his face gave Miranda a whole new direction for her plan, and her heart nearly exploded in her chest at the idea that was forming. Instead, she reached out her arm toward her younger brother-in-law.

“Need some help getting upstairs?” she asked, holding her elbow crooked in his direction. He nodded mutely and reached for her, still watching the door above him. Miranda’s legs nearly gave out from the amount of pressure he put on her arm as he struggled to walk to bed. Tears stung her eyes and she quickly blinked them away before he could notice how sad his situation made her.

Miranda couldn’t get to bed fast enough. She helped Joseph to his room then checked on Gracie and Emma. Gracie was wearing the poor girl out in her excitement, but Miranda was thrilled to see a smile on Emma’s face when she peeked in on them.

“Lights out, okay? Emma walked all the way from town, remember?” Gracie nodded, slightly dejected at having to cut the girl time short, but became exuberant once again when Miranda handed in a clean set of sheets for Emma to use, reminding Gracie to use the original sheets on the bed for her spot on the floor.

“Oh no, I can’t. I can’t take your bed, too. I’ll just sleep right here,” Emma said, patting the floor beside her.

“Nonsense, Gracie’s thrilled to have someone to talk to. It’s the least we can do, okay?” Miranda stepped in and helped with the bedding, getting both teens situated before turning the light off and closing the door behind her.

It was all she could do not to run to her own room. She threw open the door and launched herself onto the bed. Casey looked up from the TV in surprise at her attack.

“I have the best idea ever, Casey…it’s brilliant!” she gushed, ignoring the rest of the story for a second as she pulled Casey to her for a long, hard kiss.