Cowboy Take Me Away (42 page)

“And you can piss off too,” Cal said to Carson.

Another round of beers arrived. Carson looked at Lettie. “You a mind reader?”

“I’d be blushing for sure if I was reading your mind, Carson McKay,” Lettie shot back. “I’ve known you since your brawling days. Not that I ever saw that trait passed on to your sons.” She winked. “They flirt with me just as much as you do.”

Carson snorted. “You’ve been flirtin’ with
me
for forty-some years.”

“And you love it.” Lettie sighed. “We were hot stuff back in the day, weren’t we?”

“Yes, we were. Hot tempered, hot bodied,” he grinned at her, “hot to trot.”

“Anyway, this round has been paid for. Enjoy.”

They looked at each other and shrugged.

“Did either Kimi or Vi mention the urge to travel?” Carson asked.

“We get to several of Chase’s PBR events during the year. Don’t know if the boy will make it to Vegas this year. But besides that? Not really. Vi mentioned it’d be fun to take a family trip to Disney World with Quinn and Libby and the grandkids.”

“That’d be my idea of hell,” Carson grumbled. “God knows I love the grandkids, but there are so many of ’em we’d have to rent out the whole damn hotel.”

“Kimi is content to stay home,” Cal said. “Says she traveled enough after she graduated from the nunnery.”

“What about Carolyn?” Charlie asked.

“That’s the thing. I don’t know. We’ve never really talked about it. Like Kimi she’d rather stay home. But I wouldn’t mind hittin’ the open road and seeing some sights.”

Carson remembered that was the exact moment he decided to buy a RV. That way he and Carolyn could take off whenever they wanted and they’d still have the comforts of home.

In fact, he remembered thinking it was the most brilliant idea in the history of ideas. And since he was feeling more than a little smug, he decided he’d keep this fantastic idea to himself, lest one of his brothers take it and steal his thunder.

He’d make the purchase a surprise. He had a few months to research the best model. Next summer he’d just drive it on home. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face.

But five months later, when Carson pulled up in front of the house and honked the horn, he hadn’t expected Carolyn’s expression to border on horror as she walked down the porch steps.

After hopping out the driver’s side door, he bounded up the sidewalk toward her. “Isn’t she a beaut?”

“What in…” She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. He recognized the posture as
Lord give me patience
but he’d seen it directed at the kids, not at him.

Maybe she was just stunned he’d done something so thoughtful.

“Sugar, come on and see the inside. You’re gonna flip. It’s got everything.”

His ears must’ve been playing tricks on him because he swore he heard her mumble, “Including a maid?”

He pointed out the front area. “The seats are plush. Like sittin’ in my easy chair drivin’ down the road. And above us? We just slip a piece of padded wood across and it becomes an oversized bunk.” He led her to the kitchen. “I figured you’d love the full sized stove and oven. And the table folds down so it can be a living area or an extra bed.”

“Handy. I can make whoever is sleeping there breakfast in bed.”

“Exactly.” He paused. Wait a second. Was that…sarcasm?

Nah. He had to’ve misheard her.

“Down here you’ll find the bathroom.” He led her down the short hallway and pulled the folding door open. “With a corner shower it’s bigger than standard. Same with the toilet.” He gestured to the cabinet beside the door. “There’s a compact washing machine and dryer in there.”

She didn’t seem too impressed.

“Check this out.” Carson opened the door to the bedroom. “A king-sized bed. And look at all the storage.”

“For laundry, cleaning and cooking supplies no doubt.”

“No, I think it’s mostly closet space. But you can put whatever you want back here.” He perched on the edge of the bed and patted the mattress. “Shall we break it in?”

“Right now?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You busy doin’ something else?”

“Actually, yes. I was about to bake brownies and I’m starting supper. But maybe later?”

He stood and kissed her forehead. “Sure. But do you like it?”

“It’s…something all right.”

Later that night Carson convinced her to return to the camper, expecting she’d want to explore on her own. He was pretty damn proud of himself for figuring out how to hook up the satellite TV without pestering his kids for help.

After being married for so many years, he was all-pro at seducing his wife. But the whole time he was making love to her—or trying to—she didn’t seem that into it.

He stopped moving and looked down at her. “Am I boring you or something?”

Carolyn opened her eyes. “No, it’s fine.”

Fine? That less than enthusiastic response made him more determined to feel her clinging to him and moaning in his ear as she came undone. He nuzzled her throat, scattering those little sucking love bites she loved so much down the arch of her neck. When even that didn’t create the shivering and moaning effect, once again he stopped moving. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

“I can’t relax.”

“This is supposed to relax you.”

“Well, it’s not, it’s just making me more tense so can we just get it over with please?”

“Over with?” That stung. He eased out of her body and pushed to the end of the bed, waiting for the soft caress of her hand assuring him she didn’t mean it. Waiting for her to ask if they could start over. Because in all the years they’d been married, she’d only left him hanging like this a few times.

Carson felt the bed shift and glanced over to see her…grabbing her clothing.

What the hell?

Carolyn wouldn’t meet his gaze as she slipped on her bra and hooked it behind her. “Look, I’ll catch you later before we go to bed. I’m just really not in the mood right now.”

No kidding.

She didn’t stop and kiss him or touch him at all. She just breezed past him, leaving him nekkid and alone with a flagging erection and a sense of unease.

That night in their bed she’d kept to her word and more than made up for her odd behavior in the camper bedroom earlier.

Still, he knew something was going on with her.

A dose of the grandkids always cheered her up. He asked Colby and Channing if they could take their four boys to the lake for the weekend.

Gib, Braxton, Miles and Austin were highly impressed with the RV. Carolyn had just closed the garden gate when he pulled up and honked. Was she ever speechless when the grandsons spilled out, chattering a mile a minute about their surprise weekend camping adventure with Grandpa and Gran-gran.

Carolyn scooped Austin up and perched him on her hip, smooching his chubby cheek. “You boys ready to go camping?”

They all shouted, “Yes!”

Then his wife smiled at him—and it wasn’t a nice smile. “Let’s go.”

“Right now?”

“You busy doin’ something else?”

Why was she tossing his words from yesterday afternoon at him? “No.”

“Good. I’ll just grab my purse and lock the front door and we’ll hit the road.”

“But…”

She whirled on him. “But what? Isn’t this the appeal of having a camper? We can just take off whenever the mood strikes us?”

“Yeah, but sugar, we don’t have any food or supplies.”

She flapped her hand at him. “Minor details.”

Maybe she planned to stop at the grocery store on the way to the lake.

But she insisted they check into the campground to secure a good spot. Once they’d paid the fees and parked, everyone was hungry and there wasn’t so much as a breath mint in the camper to feed four hungry boys and two adults. So they trekked to the marina convenience store and bought thirty bucks worth of food.

They roasted hot dogs and marshmallows over the campfire. The kids ate every bit of it.

When bedtime rolled around, Carolyn insisted he sleep with the boys in the bunk; she worried one of them would fall off in the middle of the night. She and Austin took the bedroom and they all slept in their clothes since no one had remembered to bring pajamas.

The next morning Carson returned to the marina convenience store and bought thirty bucks worth of donuts, milk and juice, which the boys devoured in one sitting. Since Carolyn didn’t swim, she kept Austin in the camper with her.

The boys had brought swimming trunks, but no towels, so after they’d exited the water they’d had to dry off in the sun. Upon returning to the camper, once again the boys were starved.

Instead of traipsing back to the overpriced convenience store, Carson pulled up stakes and they drove into town for lunch. When neither their grandsons nor Carolyn seemed too keen on camping another night, they dropped the boys off and headed home.

Home. It was a pretty nice place to be. After polishing off a half a dozen cookies, Carson plopped in his easy chair to watch TV.

So the camping experiment hadn’t gone too well the first time. Next time they’d be more prepared. He’d drifted into a mental road map of the places he’d like to visit when Carolyn snatched the remote out of his hand.

He looked up to see her planted in front of him, wearing her pissed-off face.

“How long have we been married?”

He opened his mouth to answer and she cut him off.

“In all those years have I
ever
told you it was my fondest dream to own an RV and travel the country?”

Shit.

“No, I haven’t. You know why? Because that is my idea of hell. That is the single most asinine thing you’ve ever…” She made a huffing noise and leaned forward to jab her finger into his chest. “You don’t cook, so who would be responsible for all the meals? Me. You don’t clean, so who would be responsible for keeping the camper tidy? Me. You don’t grocery shop, so who would be responsible for stocking the camper pantry? Me. How is that a fucking vacation for me, Carson McKay? It isn’t. And it makes me think that you don’t know me at all if you believe I’d want that nomadic life. Our life is here. Not with strangers at some senior citizens RV park playing bridge and comparing pictures of our grandkids. How the hell much did that camper cost?” She jabbed him in the chest again. “For that kind of money, we could fly wherever we wanted. We could stay at a five star hotel. We could eat at a different restaurant every night and still have money left over to do it again…ten or fifteen more times!
That
is a vacation. Dragging the whole damn house with us so I can cook and clean in an itty bitty space while you watch satellite TV in your plush captain’s chair ain’t gonna happen. Ever.”

She stood and placed her hands on her hips. “Monday morning you
will
return that camper to the dealer. Tell them you changed your mind.”

His mouth dropped open. “Do you know how much money we’ll lose if I do that?”

“Do you know how much more money you’ll lose if I divorce your stupid ass for expecting that’s how I’d spend my retirement?”

Holy shit. She wasn’t serious…was she? “Caro—”

She drilled that sharp index finger into his chest, punctuating every word. “I. Am. Not. Kidding. Me or the camper, Carson McKay. You choose.”

After the camper was gone, they never spoke of it again.

Chapter Thirty

Hospital, Day 7—morning

Carson had overslept, and the nurses hadn’t woken him so he’d missed three visits with Carolyn. By the time his visitation window arrived and he’d dragged himself into her room, he was a wreck.

“Hey sugar. I’m sittin’ here beside you. I know you can hear me. I
need
you to hear me. Come back to me. I need you to know that I’m right here, I ain’t goin’ anywhere.

“I’ve tried to stay so positive every time I’m in here. But the closer it gets to them pullin’ you out of this, the more I worry that you’ll wake up in pain.” He studied the rise and fall of her chest. “Every time you brought a child into this world, I hated the pain it caused you. Even when you swore it was worth it in the end, I wanted to shoulder that burden.”

In his mind—maybe his crazy mind?—he heard her soft,
I know that
.

His phantom conversation with her seemed so much harder on the seventh day. He’d happily relived a lifetime of memories in the last six days. Why was he struggling now?

Because you’ve wanted it to be over and it almost is. And you’re scared to find out what happens next.

So he kept babbling. “You’ve been so healthy over the years. You wouldn’t get so much as a sniffle when it seemed at least one of the kids was always sick. Your blood pressure is good, so’s your cholesterol. You didn’t smoke, you didn’t drink to excess. How’s it fair that you’re in here now…”
It should be me in that hospital bed. I should’ve been exercising my own damn horse. I asked too much of you. I always have.

Stop with the guilt, Carson.

He really was losing it because he swore she’d whispered that in his ear.

Get it together.

Carson traced every bone in her hand. “I remember how worried you were that you’d inherited your mom’s arthritis. I’d catch you starin’ at your hands every once in a while, wondering if they’d turn on you like hers had. If you’d become frail like her. But again, you dodged that bullet. You are the strongest person I know, Caro.”

Her sweet voice saying,
I know that too, sweetheart,
floated through him and his flesh became a mass of goose bumps.

Carson felt her. This time he knew she was listening to him.

“I was so damn disoriented when I woke up after surgery. Didn’t remember nothin’ about before. Nothin’ during.”

“Mr. McKay?” the nurse said from the doorway. “Time’s up.”

No. Don’t make me leave her.

And for the first time in six days, Carson ignored the nurse and he kept on talking. “I don’t want that for you, not remembering. In the past seven days I’ve remembered so much.”

“Mr. McKay. You need to leave now.”

“I gotta go. But I’ll be here next hour. And the hour after that. And every hour until you open them pretty blue eyes and look at me. I love you, sugar. I can’t live without you. Come back to me. Please.”

After Carson ditched the protective suit, he told the nurses he was heading down to the cafeteria. But once he saw the long line, he cut out the side door and stepped into the sunshine.

Another hot, dry day. Be nice if they’d get some rain.

Typical rancher; weather is always the first topic of conversation.

Apparently that held true even when he talked to himself.

He meandered to his truck and snagged the pack of cigarettes and book of matches. After firing up a smoke, he dropped the tailgate, forcing himself to ease into a sitting position.

That’d been the hardest thing after his surgery, the lists of do’s and don’ts. Even a movement as simple as crossing his legs wasn’t allowed because of the pressure it’d put on the joint.

Now he could admit the surgery two months ago had helped. Every day had been a struggle before that…

Rain, shine, hot, cold, staying stationary or keeping active, nothing mattered.

The pain in his hip was getting worse.

And it was damn near excruciating when he was on horseback.

It wasn’t his horse’s fault that he’d become a crippled up old man. It wouldn’t be so bad if the only time he was in pain was when he mounted and dismounted. But even a slow ride put him in agony. In trying to adjust his seat, he put extra pressure on his knee, which made that ache.

Getting old wasn’t for pussies.

Carson managed to stay on for an hour, taking in the beauty of the early spring morning. The weather had been great this year for calving—no brutally cold temps and blizzard conditions that stretched out for weeks. He’d helped Colt with the midnight cattle check. But riding on the four-wheeler had caused pain—and Colt had noticed. Carson jokingly explained it as the cold settling in his brittle bones.

He’d been riding as long as he could remember—climbing on horseback had been a daily part of his life. But lately he’d only been able to ride once a week. His sons assumed he didn’t ride much anymore because he’d retired.

His wife suspected something was up, but in typical Carolyn fashion, she hadn’t said anything—yet.

He kept Sheridan at a canter as they headed for the barn. He was surprised to see Carolyn waiting by the fence for him.

Shit. He’d have to dismount in front of her. Or…maybe he could pretend he’d just swung by to see if she needed something before he continued his ride. He plastered on a grin. “Hey, sugar. What’s goin’ on?”

“Just getting some air. Wondered what you were up to. You’ve been out here a while.”

“Enjoying the beautiful mornin’. Was there something you needed?”

“Actually, yes. I’m having a devil of the time with the back door to the kitchen sticking again.”

“I’ll take a look at it after I’m done with my ride.”

“I thought you were done since I saw you heading toward the barn?”

“Nope. Saw you standing there, pretty as a picture and came over to say hey.”

Her eyes turned shrewd. “Carson McKay, you are such a liar. Get off that horse right now.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Feelin’ a mite bossy this mornin’?”

“Don’t pretend this has anything to do with me. I want to see you get off your horse.”

“Caro—”

“I mean it. Then as soon as you dismount I want you to mount me.” She paused and challenged, “But that seems to be a problem for you too, lately, doesn’t it?”

“What are you—?”

“You haven’t touched me for two months.
Two months
. The last time we went that long was after one of my pregnancies. So start explaining why you’re suddenly acting like making love to me is repulsive.”

That’s what she thought?

Of course she would think that.

“Sugar, that ain’t even close to the truth.”

Her gaze narrowed further. “Are you gonna try and pass this problem off as you need Viagra because you can’t get it up and that’s why we haven’t had sex, let alone even been sleeping close together at night?”

Dammit. He knew she wouldn’t buy that either. The woman saw too much for her own good and she never made a move until she was sure. So he had no idea how long she’d been lying in wait to jump him about this so he glared at her.

“Huh-uh, cowboy. That squinty eyed stare won’t work on me.”

Carson snorted. “When has it ever worked on you?”

“Sweetheart. You don’t have to glare at me to scare me. Why you’re trying to hide the pain from me makes my fears ten times worse. Please. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine. You wanna see?” Embarrassed, because yeah, maybe he’d rather she thought he needed chemicals to get his dick hard rather than the truth; that he wasn’t the agile man who could out-rope and out-ride everyone that he used to be.

Holding onto the saddle horn, he shifted his weight forward. Then he threw his right leg over the back of the horse, trying like hell to balance on his left side, knowing the instant his right foot touched the dirt would be the moment of agony and there was no way he could hide it from her.

His right boot heel hit the ground. Even with his left foot in the stirrup, he almost fell on his ass. The shooting pain was instantaneous. His vision went wonky even after he’d placed both feet on the dirt. He rested his forehead in the curve of his saddle.

Sheridan stayed still as Carson regained his balance. Sometimes the grinding fire in his joint forced him to double over and spew out every curse word he’d ever heard—if the torture hadn’t caused him to stop breathing entirely.

The gate clanged behind him. Then Carolyn wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. “It’s okay. I’m here. Please let me help you.”

He breathed through the pain and held onto the reins when Sheridan tried to shift sideways. “Steady, girl.”

“I’m sorry. But I’ve been worried and you won’t tell me what’s going on—”

“Sugar, I was talkin’ to my horse.”

“Oh.” She laughed. “Of course you were.”

“I’m better now.”

“No, you’re not. We can just stay like this until you settle.”

Carson turned his head and nuzzled the side of her face. Feeling calmed by the words she’d so rarely had to say to him.

After a bit she murmured, “Better?”

“I’m always better when you’re near.”

“What can I do? You want me to unsaddle Sheridan and deal with the tack?”

“Nah. That’s the easy part. I got it.”

“I’ll stick around and help you anyway.”

“I’d like that.”

After they’d dealt with his horse, they walked hand in hand back to the house in silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, just resigned.

In the kitchen, Carson watched her busying herself getting them coffee and a slice of strudel cake. Then she watched him a little too closely for signs of pain as he took his usual chair in the dining room.

“It’s your right hip, isn’t it?”

Carson nodded.

“How long has it been bothering you?”

“Since Christmas.”

Carolyn cocked her head as if she didn’t believe him.

“Okay. Since Thanksgiving.”

“And you didn’t say anything because…?”

“At first I thought it might just be inflammation because I’d helped the boys more this fall than I’d done in a while. I figured it’d go away. When it didn’t, I remembered my dad had a harder time with his joints hurtin’ in the winter. But now that it’s started warmin’ up, it’s getting worse, not better.” He stared into his coffee cup. “I fuckin’ hate that the last time I tried to make love to you it hurt so goddamned bad that I just wanted to get it over with.”

She scooted closer, took his hand and curled it around her face. “Why did you hide that from me? We could’ve tried some way besides missionary—”

“It’s embarrassing. Two things I’ve been good at—keepin’ you satisfied in bed and ridin’—can’t do either of them anymore.” He sighed with pure frustration. “I ain’t a young man, by any stretch. But Jesus, Caro. When did I get so damn old? I hate this constant aches and pains shit.”

“I know. But it’s not going away. So can we go to the doctor and see what can be done?”

We
. Always
we
. “Yeah.”

The relief in her eyes shamed him; she’d been prepared for a fight. “I think—”

“No more thinkin’. We’ll get it taken care of. Soon. But right now, I’m takin’ care of you.” He helped her to her feet and slapped her butt hard enough she yelped. “Repulsive my ass. You are still the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He’d kissed her in the slow, patient, teasing way that drove her crazy. Then he spread her out on the dining room table and kissed her the same way between her legs.

And it hadn’t hurt his hip at all.

“Daddy?”

Carson’s head whipped up. Lost in the memory, he’d forgotten about the cigarette smoldering between his fingers.

But of course Keely noticed it right away. “Since when have you smoked?”

He lifted the butt to his lips, inhaled and slowly exhaled. “Since I was sixteen. It’s a stress thing, not a regular habit.”

“Does Mom know?” She paused. “Of course she does. You two keep each other’s secrets.”

Carson stared at his beautiful daughter. Sweet Jesus. She was doing a stellar zombie imitation. Dark circles hung under her eyes; her face was milky white. She wore no makeup; her hair looked like she’d stuck her head out the window zipping down the road at a hundred miles an hour. Even if Keely was only headed for the barn she took care with her appearance—a habit she’d learned from her mother. “Punkin, you look like hell.”

“So do you.”

“Yeah, well. I’ve been livin’ there the last seven goddamned days.” He sucked in another drag. Held the smoke in. Blew it out. “I ain’t in the mood for you to chew my ass.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Smoke?”

“No. Don’t be a dick. I know you’re hurtin’, Daddy. I see it.”

“You don’t know the half of it, girlie.” He slid off the tailgate, hiding a wince when the impact with the ground sent a sharp pain from his heel to his hip. He dropped the cigarette on the blacktop before he ground it out with his boot heel.

“I do know how bad you’re hurtin’, because I’ve seen the other half.” Keely moved toward him, snaking her arms around his waist, burying her face on his chest, her shoulders heaving.

His response was automatic. Ingrained. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. His sweet baby. She’d always be his baby no matter how old she got.

“I’m sorry,” she said through choked sobs.

And he’d forgive her no matter how bratty she acted. “I know you are.”

Keely tilted her head back and met his gaze. In that moment she looked so much like her mother, his heart swelled even as it ached. “You deserved better from me. From all of us. I’ve never spoken for my brothers, and I ain’t about to start now. I’m sorry I thought my connection to her should mean more than yours. I know better. I saw it that day of your surgery and it freaked me the hell out.”

“That what you mean by you’ve seen the other half?”

She nodded. “You and Mom; you’re two halves of a whole. She knew. Right away. I told her to calm down, it was routine surgery, the orthopedic surgeon performed that procedure ten times a week and it was nothing to worry about.”

In seventy-four years of life Carson had never been put under. As they’d wheeled him in to pre-op, Carolyn promised she’d be waiting for him on the other side. She had no idea how true that statement had been at the time.