Shrinking Violet (Colors #2) (10 page)

Finally, I’d had enough. I didn’t want there to be tension between us. Something in my gut told me Carson was a good guy, so I decided to try and break the strain that had formed.

“Thank you for coming and helping me today. I really appreciate it.”

For the first time all morning, he offered a genuine smile. “It’s not a problem, sweetheart, really.”

A mother and her two young girls came by the booth, buying a few jars of strawberry preserves. I watched Carson from the corner of my eye as he placed the money in the lock box, a thoughtful expression on his face. What he said next shocked me.

“I didn’t realize there was something going on between you and Zeke,” he said, keeping his eyes downcast. “I’m sorry if I made things uncomfortable the other night. If I’d have known, I never would have—”

“What?!” I yelped, letting out a startled laugh.

He looked up at me, his green eyes full of confusion. “You and Zeke.”

I couldn’t help but scoff at the idea. It wasn’t that Zeke was a bad guy; I just had no desire to go there with him. At. All. “There is no me and Zeke. Seriously.”

I actually enjoyed watching him grow wide-eyed. It was nice to see something in his expression considering how closed off he’d been all morning. “Oh. I just thought…”

“He’s a nice guy, and he’s been a good friend since I moved here. He’s great with Willow and I appreciate that, but I’m not interested in Zeke like that.”

I thought I saw a flicker of a smirk tilt his lips before it disappeared.

“So, you’re not originally from here?”

Talking about my past was always difficult, but I’d thrown out that breadcrumb about moving here because I wanted to try and give Carson a glimpse into my past. When I told him I wanted to be his friend, I’d honestly meant it. There was no way I wanted to fully open up about the person I used to be, but I felt I at least owed him something.

“No, I’m originally from Washington. I moved here about four years ago. The lack of accent didn’t give me away?”

He smiled, and I felt my chest tighten just a bit. “Well, I didn’t want to say anything…” he teased. “So four years…” I could see him doing the math in his head. Despite the apprehension growing in my belly, I opted for complete honesty.

“I was pregnant when I moved here. My parents weren’t all that excited about having a knocked-up eighteen-year-old daughter, so they shipped me off. Milly’s my mother’s sister and the only other family I have. Texas was as far away from Washington as they could get me, so they jumped at the chance.”

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath. “And Willow’s dad? What’d he have to say about it?”

I cleared my throat, trying to decide how best to answer. “He’s not…he’s not in the picture.”

“Ah, Christ.” He let out a whoosh of breath. “He’s a sorry piece of shit, Cass. He doesn’t deserve either of you. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

A sad smile touched my lips as melancholy flooded my veins. “It’s okay, really. It’s for the best anyway.”

“That asshole doesn’t deserve to know Willow. She’s amazing, Cass. You’re doing great without that fucker in your lives.”

“She
is
kind of terrific, isn’t she?” I laughed, thinking about my little Doodle Bug. “She’s the only good thing I’ve ever done with my life.” I hadn’t realized I was gazing off into nothingness until I felt the slight pressure of Carson’s fingers under my chin, tilting my face to his.

“Something tells me that’s not true.”

I didn’t know what to say. My heart fluttered as I stared up into his penetrating gaze. I wanted so badly to think I was the kind of person he clearly viewed me as, but it wasn’t the truth. I lost all sense of time as we stood there, our eyes locked on each other. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me the way he was just then.

A throat cleared across from us, shaking me out of my reverie. I turned to see a familiar face grinning at Carson and me.

“Mrs. Anderson! How are you?”

Mrs. Anderson was a short, round woman in her eighties who always made a point of stopping by my booth whenever I was at the farmer’s market. I’d gotten to know her over the years and adored her dry sense of humor and sharp wit.

“Oh, I’m wonderful, darlin’.”

I was still rattled from the intense moment I’d just shared with Carson. I took a small step away from him, trying to clear my head. “Mrs. Anderson, this is Carson Langford. He just started as Uncle Kal’s ranch hand. Carson, this is Mrs. Anderson, my best customer.”

Mrs. Anderson gave me a sincere smile, the skin around her eyes wrinkling in the most endearing way.

Carson extended his hand for her to shake. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

“Dear Lord in Heaven,” Mrs. Anderson exclaimed, talking to me while keeping her focus pinned squarely on Carson. “Child, you got one fine specimen of man right here. I suggest you lock this boy up before someone steals him away.”

I choked on my spit as Carson let out a loud bark of laughter. He brought Mrs. Anderson’s hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Maybe you could talk some sense into her for me,” he said with a charismatic wink. I had the distinct impression I was being ganged up on. “This beautiful girl here claims she wants to be
friends
. Can you believe that?”

The little old lady scoffed in disbelief. “Girly, if I was twenty years younger, you can bet I’d be all over that. Have you lost your mind?”

“Clearly, I have, Mrs. Anderson,” I responded dryly, not bothering to mention that twenty years would put her firmly in her sixties and still with one artificial hip. Carson snorted next to me, and I turned to see him trying his best to hide his laughter behind his hand.

“I’ll take it into consideration,” I told her then attempted to change the subject. “Are you here to buy some preserves today?”

“Of course, of course.” She turned back to Carson. “Did you know our girl here makes the best homemade preserves and bread in the entire county? Been telling her for years she should open her own bakery. She’d sell out every day, without a doubt. She’s a woman of many talents, our Cassidy is.”

The mischievous twinkle in his mossy eyes as he looked at me made my skin flush and the area between my thighs tingle. Good Lord, my reaction to Carson was deliciously heady.

“Hmm,” he hummed, keeping me pinned in place with his gaze. “I can’t wait to see where else her talents lie.”

Ah, hell.
I was in serious trouble.

The rest of the day went better than I expected, considering how the morning had started. I sold out of all of my produce and most of my bread and jam. Carson and I talked all day long, making sure to keep the topics light. At one point, he tried some of my cinnamon fig preserves on a slice of fresh bread and ended up buying three jars of the stuff. I quickly discovered that he was one of the easiest people I’d ever talked to. I enjoyed our conversations, but it wasn’t lost on me that every time I asked about him or his family, he quickly changed the subject, keeping the focus solely on me.

We’d been sitting in the truck in companionable silence for ten minutes when Carson’s voice pulled my attention from the landscape passing by outside the window.

“So, what made you name Willow after the ranch?”

I grinned at the memory and turned my body so I was facing Carson fully. “Did Kal ever tell you the story of how Willow Ranch started?”

“Kal doesn’t really strike me as the story-telling type.”

“Maybe not to you and the rest of the guys.” I laughed.

“Tell me the story.”

I thought back to that day, shortly after I’d come to the ranch. I hadn’t been there for more than a week and had spent every day locked in my bedroom, depression eating away at me. Milly and Kal had done their best to try and make me comfortable, but I just couldn’t seem to pull myself out of the downward spiral. I had no friends, my parents had washed their hands of me, and I’d lost all the comforts of the home I’d known since birth. The self-loathing was a crushing weight that had taken up permanent residency smack-dab in the center of my chest. I couldn’t eat or sleep, and my aunt and uncle had grown increasingly worried about my health and the health of the baby.

Finally, Uncle Kal had enough and stormed into my bedroom one day. The story he told me that evening resonated deep within me. It spoke to me in a way nothing had before and helped me begin the process of healing. I loved the idea of sharing that story with Carson.

“It was Kal’s grandfather, Albert, who started up Willow Ranch. He was in his late twenties when he bought the first parcel of land.”

“That’s kind of a late start, isn’t it?”

“It was. Kal’s grandfather spent his teens and most of his twenties working odd jobs here and there, never able to keep a one for longer than a year or two…”

“Why not?” Carson asked, his curiosity coming through in the tone of his voice.

“Well, because Albert was an alcoholic. When he was nineteen, he got his high school sweetheart pregnant and their parents forced them into marriage. He wasn’t ready for the responsibility of being a husband and a father, so he went pretty wild for a long time. Kal’s grandmother was the original Willow of Willow Ranch. After a few years of being married to a drunk and practically raising a child all by herself, she’d finally had enough. She kicked Albert out and told him she wanted a divorce.”

“Shit. This is kind of a depressing story, Cass.”

I grew more animated as I continued. “But it’s not, not really. You see, after Willow asked for a divorce, Albert realized what he was losing. He begged her to take him back, not wanting to lose his family, but Willow had enough. She told him that if he was serious about being a part of their family, he needed to prove it.”

“So, he bought the land and started the ranch,” Carson spoke softly.

“Yeah, he started the ranch. It took a while for him to prove himself, but he did it. He pulled his head out of his ass and showed Willow he was serious. She took him back and moved into the house he’d built on the land. Over the years, they expanded, buying up more land when they could, and had two more kids. Kal said his grandparents were so in love they could barely keep their hands off each other. All it took was Willow giving him a second chance.”

Carson was silent for several seconds before glancing at me. “Okay, that’s a pretty great story.”

I beamed over at him. “Yeah, I thought so, too.”

“So, you named Willow after Kal’s grandmother?”

I shook my head. “No, I named her after the ranch.”

His brows dipped down in a furrow. “I’m not following.”

“What I took from that story was that Willow Ranch was a place for second chances. If Albert hadn’t bought that first piece of land, there’s no telling how that story would have ended. It was his second chance. I named my daughter after the place that gave
me
a second chance.”

Carson’s hand reached across the seat and took hold of mine, twining our fingers together. Warmth flooded through me at the feel of his touch. “I really love that story, Violet.”

After what happened at Miller’s, I worried I’d never hear that nickname again. My chest squeezed for probably the hundredth time that day as I brushed my thumb across his knuckles.

“Me, too.”