Can't Resist a Cowboy (12 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Fresh from the shower, body tingling, Carrie nursed her coffee while Levi sat quietly next to her at the kitchen table. She’d worried he’d feel a little awkward this morning after what they’d shared last night, but if he did, he wasn’t showing it. If anything, they were like an old married couple with a flirtatious side, sitting easily together while sneaking looks at each other and playing footsie.

When her dad walked in unexpectedly, the slight nausea she’d been fighting off and on since yesterday threatened to make her sick right then and there. If Darren was surprised to see Levi, shirt unbuttoned and hair wet from a shower, looking so comfortable with his arm around the back of Carrie’s chair, he didn’t show it. Which was odd, because as stoic as cowboys were touted to be, he’d never been shy about holding back what he was thinking.

“Hey, Dad. You’re back early,” she said with an uncertain smile. “Want some breakfast?” Breakfast which Levi had made not long ago before he’d thrown her back into bed for a morning go-round. Carrie wanted to slide under the table. She was an adult, sure, but he was still her father, and this was his home. Darren nodded to Levi as he moved to the counter to fill his coffee cup.

“Things all right around here?”

Levi sat straighter and put his forearms on the table. “Yessir.” Carrie slid a look from one man to the other. When her father’s eyes narrowed and his lips went thin, Levi didn’t flinch.

“Seems some things have been getting fixed while I was gone, then.”

Levi rose, voice firm but respectful. “That’s a conversation for another time, sir.”

Darren crossed his arms, carefully gripping his steaming coffee mug. “I say it’s a conversation for right damn now.”

Visions of a shotgun wedding started to cloud her head. Carrie stood, smoothing her shirt with one hand to try to calm her shaking. Before she could unscramble the images of her dad whipping out a gun and Levi sticking up his hands like a cartoon criminal, Darren went on.

“I’m not a fool. I knew there was a chance the two of you would…reconnect.”

Carrie thought about what Levi had said about her father making him promise to leave her behind when he’d left for the military. She realized he’d done what he thought was best at the time. It was a long time ago, but she’d be damned if he was going to step in again. She’d be making her own decisions about her and Levi—about everything.

“I have something to show you.” Levi turned and walked out, leaving Carrie to fiddle with the hem of her shirt like she was seventeen again, nervous her dad had learned that she and Levi had just had a romp in the haymow. Because the cool, knowing stare he gave her was the same as it had been then. This time, instead of asking her what she’d been doing to make her look like she’d stolen cookies from a nun, one corner of his lips pulled up into a knowing grin.

“I figured there was more to be said between you two.”

Wiping her hands on her jeans, she leaned against the table. “Yes, there was.”

He sipped his coffee. “I guess I figured you two might need some closure, if that’s what you wanted.” Closure implied she and Levi would’ve said their piece and gone their separate ways. While they’d done the talking thing, something unfinished had turned into so much more.

When Levi came back with a long cardboard tube in his hands, she stopped fidgeting and wondered just what that “more” entailed. He uncapped one end and withdrew rolled paper. Darren and Carrie cleared dishes from the table, and Levi laid the roll down, uncoiling it and holding the edges down with their coffee cups. Her breath caught as the pale blue surface of the paper displayed the sketch and design for a large round barn with an outdoor arena behind it. Pretty bushes and landscaping in the front made a beautiful foundation for a sign,
Therapeutic Riding and Training Center
.

Carrie opened her mouth, shut it…opened it again. “This is a therapeutic riding center you mentioned for Paint River.” He’d told her about it during one of their late-night conversations. Levi splayed his hands on the bottom of the print, the seriousness in his demeanor cracking a bit as the corners of his eyes crinkled. “We want you to have it. As a joint venture, benefiting both ranches, but more importantly, the patients who need the services that would be provided. I’ve had a long conversation with the company wanting to expand here, and they’d like to come to Agate Falls and take a look.”

She put a hand to her chest, dumbfounded. “Wait, what about the campground?”

“No campground.” He moved to her side and kissed her hair. “This center will be profitable and can be constructed without changing much of the ranch.”

Darren drained his cup, eyeing the prints. “With all respect, Levi, how far do we take this thing?”

“The therapy center in no way integrates tourism the way we’ve set it up at Paint River. You provide the space for the center, and we’ll offer temporary housing for clients at Paint River with a shuttle that goes back and forth between the ranches.”

Levi went into specifics on how the arrangement worked, but Carrie’s thoughts were straying to other possibilities. She could possibly offer treatments as well, right on-site, so the patients who came for therapeutic riding could also have massages to relax muscles and reduce pain. She could work right here, on the property she knew best. If the time came that her vision worsened to the point she couldn’t drive, there was no worry about leaving home to go to work.

The men kept on talking, but she didn’t process anything beyond the fact that Levi was committing to this; that he’d said he loved her, had bared his injuries to her. Elation could have lifted her to the moon in that moment. Levi was her other half. Had always been, and fate was eagerly intervening this time around.

“Show me the exact location outside where you want to put it,” her dad said. The men crossed to the door and Carrie snagged Levi’s arm, pulling him back.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Mindless of her dad waiting by the door, Levi kissed her fully, softly. Pulling back, he ran his thumbs down the sides of her face. “Saying you love me will suffice.”

She hugged him tight. “I love you.” Her dad made a nondescript sound behind them. She stepped back, and Levi gave a nod before turning away. They walked out, and she heard the sound of a car door shut
.
Carrie poured herself coffee, her mind spinning, sending a wave of light-headedness. The nausea came back, rising bitterly into her throat. She drank some water and searched for a Tums.

There was so much to take in, to plan, to talk about. She didn’t have time to be getting sick.

Was she hoping too much? It was all coming together, creating a pretty picture of what could be. There were still so many what-ifs, so many things that might not work.

“Carrie?”

She spun to the sound of her name. Rylan stood in the doorway, one hand gripping her hip, the other propped on the door. Fatigue and pain clouded her face. Carrie set down her cup and rushed over. “Rylan! What is it?” She helped her inside, but Rylan waved an annoyed hand and shook her head.

“It’s this baby! It’s ripping my spine apart, I swear. I hate to just show up, but I was hoping…well, Levi said that you were a master at massages and—”

“Of course,” Carrie interjected. “I’m happy to help. Here.” She spun a kitchen chair around and helped Rylan straddle it. Grabbing two fluffy kitchen towels, Carrie placed them over the back of the chair so Ry could cross her arms over them comfortably and lean forward.

“Oooh, see, this feels better already.”

Carrie washed and warmed her hands under the tap and downed an antacid to push back another burn in her chest. She soaked a clean rag in hot water and wrung it out, making a mental note to finish her mostly untouched breakfast when she was done. Nothing had tasted good the past few days, and the heartburn had killed her appetite.

“You with me?” she teased, giving Rylan a nudge. A groan was her response, followed by a yawn. “Can’t sleep because my hips and lower back hurt so much. If I toss too much, I wake up Cole. Hell, if I try to sleep on the couch, he wakes up and fusses after me.” There was a lot of affection in the frustration-laced words. “That man and his constant fussing. I love him, but I need him to go away.”

Carrie grinned and reached to move Rylan’s hair out of the way, but stopped, trying to figure out if it was in a knotted ponytail or a braid gone horribly wrong. Pulling the rubber band loose, she ran her fingers through the long strands and straightened it the best she could. Poor Rylan. Hot, pregnant mess.

“I always heard first babies are the worst,” she commented and began braiding.

“This is my second baby.”

Carrie paused, realizing how much she really didn’t know Rylan. They’d only met a couple of times, and aside from the trip to the day spa, hadn’t spent much time together. Still, she felt comfortable around her as if they’d known each other a lot longer. Sophie, too.

“I had a daughter. Rachel.” Rylan’s voice went heavy with affection. “She passed when she was a toddler, in a car accident.”

Carrie slowed the braiding process, her hands suddenly cold. “Oh, Ry, I can’t imagine.” Funny how you could wallow in your own self-pity now and again, but someone else always had it worse.

“Losing her is what brought me to Paint River. See, the thing is about this place, this beautiful land…it has a way of taking you in when you’re broken and putting you back together.”

Carrie finished the braid and put it over Rylan’s shoulder, then rubbed her hands together to warm her palms as she pondered her friend’s words.

“Sophie, too. She came here not knowing which end was up, and in the end, she figured it out.”

“And caught Tucker in the process.” A crazy miracle, that. He’d always been a player with a heart of gold, but she was still surprised to see that wild man had been caught and tied down.

Rylan laughed. “Yeah. Well, neither of them had a choice, I don’t think. Kind of like Cole and me. I knew from the moment I met him that he was going to be trouble…and mine.” As Carrie massaged her shoulders, Rylan relayed how she’d met Cole in a bar after getting off a Greyhound bus in the wrong town. It had been a coincidence that he’d been exactly the man she’d been looking for to take her to Paint River Ranch—her boss, as it turned out—and the one she’d butt heads with until they both stopped fighting their attraction for each other.

“I was afraid,” Rylan said tiredly. “When I met Birdie, I was scared I wouldn’t be able to be a mother to her after losing my own child. That fear took a toll on Cole and me.”

Working a knot from the middle of Rylan’s back, Carrie nodded. “That had to be incredibly hard.”

“It was. Fear, it can keep you from what you need. I almost lost Cole and Birdie both before I figured out that I just needed to stop being scared.”

“How?” How could anyone get over fear like that? What Rylan had faced was something from a movie. Extreme, unreal. By comparison, her own fears seemed small.

“I guess I just decided I wanted Cole and Birdie more than I wanted to be afraid. What purpose was that fear serving me? I knew I loved Cole almost right away. I wanted him more than I wanted to hang on to the fear.” She groaned as Carrie applied firm pressure to her lower back. “That’s sooo goood.”

“Your poor back. I’m going to manipulate your hips a little, so just relax.” By the time she was done, Rylan was like a puddle in the chair, but her breathing had become even and smooth, her back relaxed in a way that Carrie hoped would ease the pain for a lasting period of time. She rewet the warm towel and placed it on her friend’s lower back under her shirt.

“Better?”

“God, so much better. Thank you so much.”

“Anytime. I wish you’d come to me sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t offer in case you needed me.”

Rylan waved her off, her cheek resting on her crossed arms, eyes closed. “You want to know a secret?”

“Sure.”

“I accidentally found out the baby’s gender at my ultrasound the other day. I promised Cole I wouldn’t find out. I’m dying to tell someone and I can’t trust Sophie to keep her mouth shut.”

“No! Really?”

Even though they were alone, Rylan waved her to come closer, and Carrie bent so she could whisper in her ear.

“Congratulations!”

A knock sounded on the screen door, a deep voice startling them both. “Congratulations, what?”

“Jesus, Cole.” Rylan sighed. “Did you come looking for me?” Her eye roll was both annoyed and loving. He stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. Hat in his hands, he nodded to Carrie, who had a hard time keeping the grin off her face. Protective cowboy to a T. Rylan glanced at her and made a, “shhhh, don’t tell,” face.

“I was worried. Sophie said you’d mentioned coming by, so I figured I’d better check on you.” He helped his wife from the chair and she leaned against him. For all her angst over his protectiveness, she held on to him like he was her lifeline, her voice tender when they spoke softly to each other. Carrie’s throat tightened a little as she called good-bye to them and stood in the kitchen, a hand over her heart and the other on the back of the chair.

Rylan had all that love and her pieces put back together because she’d stopped being afraid. Levi was offering her the same. A chance at love, at a family and reconnection with her roots. She’d been right to take this chance. Grabbing a piece of toast from her plate, she munched on it as she went upstairs to get the things she’d gathered from the attic the other day, including a wedding gift for Maeve.

For the first time in too long, she was calm. Her life had promise. Everything was going to be okay.

Chapter Twenty

Levi took the porch steps two at a time, pulling his cell from his back pocket to check messages before pushing the door open. The scent of coffee and bacon still hung in the air, though breakfast had been hours ago. Still welcoming, the scents made his stomach rumble. For the past two days, he and Darren had been going nonstop, talking about locations to put the riding center, taking measurements, running quick errands. Elated with the possibilities this brought to Agate Falls, Levi was glad the project had fallen into his lap after all.

Things in general were coming together. A year ago, he’d barely been able to stand or maneuver stairs or sleep without nightmares clawing at him. Now, at the brink of every morning, he woke next to the only woman he’d ever love, in a place where he was making a difference, looking forward to the hard work that fed his soul.

“Carrie?” He and Darren needed to ride out to the lower pasture to discuss which cattle were best to take back to the Colorado market, and they only had a few hours of daylight left. He wanted to be sure she knew before they left. Clearing the kitchen, Levi checked the living room and Carrie’s room. Her coat and boots were still in the entryway, the house silent.

Checking the rest of the lower level, he went to the staircase, listening for any sound before calling up. “Carrie?”

Not waiting for an answer, he trotted upstairs, chastising himself for being worried. She’d probably gone outside and found something to fiddle with. She wasn’t in the upper level, though a rag and some cleaning solution said she’d been there at some time. Levi turned to go back down but stopped, remembering she’d talked the other day about sorting through boxes in the attic. Going to the narrow staircase that lead one more level up, he found the attic door half open.

Dust settled through rays of sunlight coming in from the dormer windows as he navigated the narrow, cluttered space. “Carrie?” A few boxes were open, their contents set aside, and wads of newspaper dotted the floor. He fingered a small figurine of a red bird, next to it, an envelope-size frame holding a matching cardinal cut from colored glass.

With a grin, he recalled how Carrie had spent hours creating patterns and cutting glass, working meticulously to piece them together. He’d often sit next to her, watching, telling her about the day, prolonging having to leave to get back to Paint River. Rubbing a thumb over the fine layer of dust on the stained glass, he looked down and his heart lurched to his throat.

Behind a wad of paper on the floor, he spied a pale length of arm. Bending, he moved the papers, finding Carrie lying on her side, hidden by the boxes.

“Jesus, Carrie!” Smoothing hair from her face, he found the strands damp, her face clammy, pale and slick with sweat. He gently turned her onto her back, her body limp and clothes damp. Frantically, he searched for a pulse at her neck, watching for the rise and fall of her chest…sure she wasn’t breathing where there was no sign of movement.

A flutter beneath his fingers, her pulse slow but present, and the very faint swell of her chest allowed him to exhale in relief. No doctor needed to tell him her blood sugar had crashed; Levi had seen this happen to her before. She used to keep little packets of sugar gel in the bathroom. Levi was reluctant to leave her, even for a moment. Reassuring himself with one more rise and fall of her chest, he darted from the attic and slid down the stairs as he pulled out his phone to call Sophie.

It rang twice…four times, five to his combination of cussing and prayer, before the line connected.

“Hey, Lev—”

“Bring your medical kit to Agate Falls. Upstairs in the attic. It’s Carrie.”

Accidentally dropping the phone, it went sliding down the hall as he jumped down the last few stairs. He didn’t bother to grab it, but hurried to the bathroom and rummaged around for the gel. God, it had been years since he’d been through this with her. Who the hell knew where she kept the sugar stuff anymore, or if that was even what he was supposed to use.

What if things had changed and she needed something else? He’d never bothered to ask her—they hadn’t had a frank conversation about her health beyond what she’d told him. He’d been too busy trying to reassure her that he could handle it, that they could handle it. Her fragile blood sugar and the possibility of failing eyesight weren’t little obstacles; they were huge, lifelong battles.

Rummaging through a drawer, he found two packets of the gel, gripped them like precious treasure, and raced back up the stairs. He’d been to battle, twice. Two full tours, months of simulated training. Then he’d come home and battled his own body for his freedom, his life. Nothing had held him down then—not an insurgent’s bomb, not his own weakness. Sliding to his knees beside her, Levi cradled Carrie’s head in his hand and set her up on his lap. He’d fight for her just as much.

Ripping open the packet, he leaned low over her. “Nothing will stop us, Sunshine. Do you hear me?” He pinched her lips open, conflicted if he should actually give her any considering she was unconscious. The times he’d given it to her before, she’d been going downhill, but was still awake. Her brain needed sugar, and the only way he could get it into her until Sophie arrived was the gel.

It was just goo, and he’d go slow…squeezing a bit from the top, he administered it into her mouth, setting his jaw. Thinking back over the morning, he tried to pinpoint a warning that this was going to happen. She’d been a little flushed, but he’d thought that was from the excitement of the therapy center. She hadn’t eaten much, though maybe she had later when he’d gone outside.

“Levi!”

“In here!”

The clomping of double footsteps filled the air. Sophie came into view, followed by Darren, whose eyes went huge and flashed something Levi couldn’t read.

“How long has she been down?” Sophie grabbed a small kit and began pulling things out. Grabbing Carrie’s finger, she poked with a small needle. A well of blood glistened as she placed it on a monitor.

“I don’t know. I just found her right before I called you. Darren and I were outside—”

“When is the last time you saw her awake?”

Levi caught Darren’s eyes and shrugged. “Four hours or so ago.” It hurt to admit it. Had she been this way for four goddamned hours? What if he hadn’t come in to see her and had just gone to the fields like he and Darren planned? They’d have been gone another two, maybe three hours. She wouldn’t have been able to hold out that long…

Sophie fired off another round of questions as she set up an intravenous kit. He recognized the setup similar to what he’d seen on base—a bag of fluid, tubing, a glass tube that read “Dextrose” on it. Carrie didn’t flinch or make a sound as Sophie started an IV, a moment later pushing medication from the tube into it.

“I called the first responders just in case,” Sophie muttered, her eyes searching Carrie’s face. Levi stroked her hair, glancing at Darren from the corner of his eye. The older man had his arms crossed, a thumb on his lower lip and a familiar worry in his expression. No matter how many times he’d been through this with his daughter, it was apparent the apprehension didn’t ever go away.

Movement in his lap, the slide of hair against his jeans. Carrie opened her eyes, closed them right away. Elation burst through him. “Hey, Sunshine, come on. Open your eyes.”

“Hey,” she mumbled, yawning like she was waking up from an ordinary nap. “Are we in the attic?” She glanced around slowly. “Sophie?”

“Welcome back.”

Carrie raised her arm and groaned at the IV. “No…really?” Levi helped her sit, then stripped out of his flannel shirt and used it to wipe her forehead. “How long was I out?” The question was aimed at him and he winced. He hadn’t been here. Unable to speak around the guilt clogging his throat, he just shrugged. More footfalls on the steps, unfamiliar voices that blended with Sophie’s soft tone. He figured the first responder crew was here, but he was too focused on Carrie to care. When she mouthed, “I’m sorry,” he drew her into a gentle embrace and wanted to punch himself. She didn’t have anything to be sorry about.

Sophie turned to him. “We’re just going to check her over better, okay?”

The first responders crammed into the small space, leaving Levi to reluctantly back out. He crossed his arms and waited as close to Carrie as he could, legs wide, neck tense, watching. Darren joined him, gave him a small slap on the shoulder.

“Good thing you came in when you did.” The older man’s voice was weary. He turned and faced Levi, their shoulders touching as Darren leaned closer to Levi’s ear. “You prepared to handle this, son? Because if you ask her to stay…” His voice trailed off. Levi kept an eye on Carrie, working his jaw from left to right. He’d taken charge of operative and night missions, and none of them frightened him as much as one small, unpredictable woman.

“I am.”

Darren grunted but said nothing else. Finally, Sophie helped Carrie up and came toward the door. She brushed herself off, insisting she was fine, yet as he came forward to take her hand, she moved away and didn’t look at him. Sophie took her arm, and they spoke softly together as they went slowly down the stairs, a trail of people behind. Levi waited until last, losing sight of her as she rounded the landing and kept going down.

At the bottom, there was a flurry of paperwork, more questions, and a lot of Carrie insisting she didn’t need to go to the hospital. The crew finally left and Levi found himself in awkward silence, though he didn’t know why. Carrie went into her room, diverting her eyes as she disappeared inside. Confused and worried, he moved to follow, but Darren stepped in his way.

“I’d like a bit with my daughter.”

Levi moved back as the older man went inside and shut the door.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked more to himself, though Sophie patted his shoulder and made a sympathetic sound.

“Give her a minute. It’s scary when this happens to someone, you know? She mentioned she’s had an upset stomach and hadn’t eaten enough lately. You’re going to feed her, let her get some rest, and keep an eye on her sugars tonight. Okay?”

Grateful that Sophie was there, Levi gave her a quick hug and walked her out to her car. Back inside, he tried to make coffee but found himself pacing instead. A half an hour turned into one. Then another half. The more time ticked, the more the need to see Carrie built. The pressure peaked, and he grabbed his jacket, intending to go out and find something to kick around. The bedroom door opened.

“She okay?” he asked as Darren came out.

“Sleeping. You go ahead home, son.” Home? Right. No. He was home with one foot on Agate Falls and the other on Paint River. Whichever side Carrie was on was where he’d hang his hat.

“I’ll wait.” He pulled out a kitchen chair, but Darren put a hand on the back.

“I said go on home.” The ice in the older man’s tone brought a heavy dose of stubborn fight in him. Getting the impression he’d done something wrong, Levi put his hand next to the other man’s on the back of the chair and bent a bit so he was eye level.

“I respect the hell out of you, Darren, but I need to know what this attitude is about. Tell me, straight up, what is it?”

Darren’s nostrils flared, the lines around his mouth and between his eyes going deep and making his skin appear older, more weathered. In one blink, Levi saw how worry aged him and cut straight to the bone.

“My girl’s going to lose her sight. Did you know that?”

Ah, hell, she’d told him. An ache went through his left thigh, making him want to sit, but he stood steady. He knew she’d been waiting for the right time to confide in her father, if there ever was a good time for bad news. With a singular nod, Levi straightened and ran a hand over his face. “I knew.”

“And yet you’ve been giving her the deluded impression that she can live here? Out here, miles from anything, and be safe?”

“She wants to stay.” She’d been confident in that decision. But despite what they both wanted, maybe they hadn’t looked at the big picture clearly enough. Sophie had been around today, luckily. What if she was gone, and the first responders were busy doing something else? A slim possibility, but something he needed to consider. He wouldn’t be around all the time, either. Realistically, he’d be gone as long as the task at hand required—Darren, too. Running a hand through his hair, Levi tried to dismiss a rising amount of doubt. He’d asked her to stay first, pushed the issue a bit because he’d been selfish. He couldn’t imagine life without her again. But even if it cost her?

Darren crossed to the counter and put his hands on it, leaned low. “She did want to stay.” He made a half turn, and Levi’s stomach bottomed out. “She’s changed her mind. Carrie wants to go back to Wyoming.”

“She wants that, or
you
do?” He spit out the words before he thought it through. Three steps and he was at the older man’s side. They reached for each other at the same time, clasping forearms in a lock of pigheaded will and love for the same woman.

“I do. I want it.” The small, soft voice made them both spin. Carrie hugged herself inside a sweater, her face pale and drawn. Levi was hit with the sensation that he’d just lost a war he thought he’d already won.

…

She
was
fragile, sometimes. As her dad ducked his head and walked out, Carrie imagined she was like the stained glass panel, mended here and there, but with new, ultrafine cracks along the surface that threatened to cut through. She was strong, but easily chipped, and the final shatter was always a guessing game.

She was thankful for so many things that he’d brought into her life in these past two weeks. When she’d opened her eyes and awareness had seeped in that she was on the ground, her head in Levi’s lap, the first punch of panic had come. But then she’d looked up into his face and the absolute devastation in his expression had consumed her with fear and grief.

Love might be strong and steadfast, but she couldn’t expect this of him. The unpredictability, the constant wondering when the next crack was going to happen. She’d settled into a safe, comfortable life in Wyoming for a reason. When she was at work, she was surrounded by people. At home, someone was usually there, and if not, a neighbor was always checking in. As things progressed, she’d need even more help. Babysitting wasn’t part of the deal, at least not for a cowboy with two ranches to work.