Cowboy Take Me Away (14 page)

Chapter Ten

Carson

You are a total asshole.

Carson let his arm fall away from the brunette as soon as Carolyn disappeared from view, but his self-hatred remained.

“Who was she?” the woman cooed.

“Nobody.”

The fuck she was. She was everything.

Let it go. Let her go. You planned to do this, remember?

That was the last fucking thing he wanted to do. Pissed off—mostly at himself and his goddamn cowardice—he took another long pull from his flask. Waited a minute for the booze to quell the burning inside him. No help. He still wanted to punch someone.

Good thing there was an abundance of drunken assholes who’d jump into a fight without much prompting.

The brunette’s hand slithered up his torso from his belt buckle, stopping on his chest. “Where were we? You mentioned something about going back to your place.”

The thought of having this woman in his bed—the bed he’d had Carolyn in just two nights ago—caused a sick churning in his gut. “Sorry. Not in the cards tonight.”

“But you said…”

“I changed my mind.” Carson walked off.

She shouted something at him but he didn’t care.

He kept a spare bottle in his truck. After several mouthfuls of Windsor, he went looking for trouble.

Immediately he saw his target. Bob Delray. Big-mouth, know-it-all asshole. And he had a couple of his loser buddies backing him. Even better. With any luck, all four of them would jump in.

He’d barely reached the edge of the group when he heard “McKay” and then snide laughter. He marched up to Bob, who had an inch on Carson’s six-foot-two frame. Bob outweighed him by a good fifty pounds, but all of that was fat.

“Heard my name,” Carson said, getting right in Bob’s business. “Got something to say to me?”

“Don’t recall speaking directly to you, McKay, so just keep walkin’.”

“How about I don’t. How about I stay right fuckin’ here until you prove you can keep that fat trap of yours shut.”

Bob stepped forward, his gut leading the way. “How about you make me.”

Carson’s answer was an uppercut to Bob’s jaw. Before Bob recovered, Carson nailed him in the sternum.

Since Bob was still swinging as he went down, Carson connected with a right cross to Bob’s ear and another one to his jaw.

That was the last punch he got in before Bob’s buddies jumped him.

Fuckers had him pinned down so he couldn’t fight back—but he sure as fuck wasn’t letting these pussies get the best of him. He managed to crack one guy in the nose with his head and the guy dropped to his knees, yelling about his busted face.

He didn’t know how many hits and kicks he’d sustained—his head had gone woozy from the booze and the pain—when the guys pounding on him went flying.

Someone hauled him upright to his feet by his biceps.

Carson wiped the blood from his eye and spit a mouthful of red goo on the ground. He swayed and someone tried to bolster him, but he jerked away. He was on his goddamn feet. He didn’t need any help staying there.

A loud roar sounded. He glanced over to see Cal, Casper and Charlie doling out punishment to Bob’s friends and a couple of other guys who’d stupidly tangled with them.

A crowd had gathered to watch the show.

Carson rested his hands on his knees, trying to breathe through the pain. Fuck. His ribs, his back, his head all throbbed. When he looked up, he saw three more guys rolling in the dirt and Cal and Charlie looming above them.

Then Casper took an elbow to the gut, which spurred him to tackle the guy and whale on him until Charlie tapped him on the shoulder.

“Anyone else?” Cal shouted, spinning in a circle.

“The McKays starting fights,” someone yelled from the back. “Big surprise.”

“And we always finish fights,” Charlie snapped back. “Come up here and say it to our face, coward.”

No one stepped forward.

“Anyone else wanna have a go at us? We’re ready.”

For a moment Carson thought the entire crowd might rush them. But then they slowly backed away.

“Not that it matters, but you wanna tell us what the fuck that was about?” Cal asked.

Carson bent down and picked up his hat. “I was walkin’ by Bob and he made a crack about the McKays. Couldn’t let it slide.”

Charlie said, “Dad is gonna rip into us when he hears about this.”

“Let him.” Casper sneered. “Wasn’t like we had a choice. He’d yell at us just as bad if he found out we let the number one son get a beatin’ and we didn’t step in to save him.”

“Fuck you, Casper,” Carson said. Even when Casper wasn’t being an asshole, he somehow managed to turn into one.

“How bad you hurt this time?” Cal asked.

“I’m fine. I just need to walk it off.” Sleep it off would be better. But even in his boozed and beaten state Carson knew the second he closed his eyes, he’d see Carolyn’s face. The torment in her eyes when she noticed he had his arm around another woman. The way she seemed to shrink into herself when she believed he’d used her and was discarding her.

Rage roared inside him again. His fist might’ve connected with the metal hood of the car behind him if not for Cal lunging and knocking him sideways. “What the hell, Carse?”

“He’s drunk,” Casper said.

Not drunk enough. He didn’t know if there was enough booze in the world to numb the pain.

“Leave him alone,” Charlie said. “Let’s go back into the dance. See if any of the ladies wanna get with us.”

“Fine, but you ain’t drinkin’, pup.”

They disappeared.

Cal positioned himself across from Carson as they leaned against the doors of somebody’s cars. “You wanna tell me what’s really goin’ on?”

“I can help with that.”

Carson faced the guy, recognizing him as another one of Carolyn’s fuckin’ brothers. “If you’re gonna hit me, you’d better make sure you knock me the fuck out with the first shot. ’Cause I ain’t goin’ down easy.” Especially not for a West again.

“Yeah. I saw that.”

“Who’re you? Cal demanded.

“Thomas West. Carolyn’s brother.”

Cal snarled, “What the fuck do you want, West?”

“To talk to Carson.”

“You gonna talk to me like your brothers talked to me?”

Thomas stepped closer. “What’d they do?”

“Harland slammed me up against the barn and tried to choke me. Darren stopped by and said he’d drop a couple of diseased sheep into my cattle herd. Marshall said sparks from the railroad are known to start grass fires in prime grazin’ land. Stuart was the least creative but the most to the point. He said he’d beat me to death with a hammer if I ever came near Carolyn again.”

“Jesus.”

“When the hell did this happen?” Cal asked, dumbfounded.

“Last two days.” Carson reached for his flask, but remembering he’d left it in his truck, he dropped his hand. “Don’t bother warnin’ me off your sister. I’m done with her.”

Thomas roared and grabbed the front of Carson’s shirt. Then they were nose to nose. “Just like that? You walk—hell, you fucking
ran
away from my sister because
they
told you to?”

Carson pushed him back. “Shut up.”

“I saw what you did to her tonight. Acting like you were with someone else. I just hope she made it home okay because she was crying so damn hard—”

“I said shut up.” Carson stared at him, seething, thoughts of Carolyn driving into a ditch flashing in his brain.

“So it is true. What my dad has always said. The McKays are scared of the Wests.”

Cal got in Thomas’s face. “Bullshit.”

“There’s your proof.” Thomas pointed to Carson. “Your brother is running scared. Being a jackass to my sister, breaking her heart because that’s what my older brothers want. What about what you want?” He gave Carson a sneering once-over. “I saw you beat the crap out of five guys tonight, McKay. Because you thought some guy insulted you. But you’re just gonna lay down like a whipped dog for my brothers after they gave you the ultimate insult? They told you that you aren’t good enough for Carolyn? So you’re going to prove it? You won’t take them on and fight for my sister?”

“Why do you care? I thought you’d be happy. Ain’t you the one tryin’ to get her to move to Denver or Chicago instead of bein’ stuck livin’ here?”

“I never wanted to make that decision for her; I just made sure she knew she had options.”

“So I’m an option?”

Thomas stared at him. “You were.”

Fuck this “were” shit.

“You screwed up bad tonight,” Thomas said. “You hurt her. I wanted to bust your balls for that alone. But I’m not like my brothers. Beating the crap out of you and threatening you…that’s not what Carolyn would want. And I’m only doing this for her.”

“Doin’ what?”

“Helping you. And before you get that ‘fuck you I don’t need your help, you piece of shit West’ look, listen up: you
do
need my help. You want to be with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Prove it. You’ll have to grovel, bare your heart and soul and all that embarrassing, romantic crap women love, and fucking
mean
it for her to even talk to you. Words can only go so far.”

Probably not a good idea to say that getting her naked would be the best way to prove it.

Cal said, “So he’s supposed to march up to your front door and say, ‘Fuck you all, I don’t give a shit what threats you made or what you think, I’m takin’ Carolyn out on a date and you’d better get used to seein’ me around’?”

“Yes.”

“No way,” Cal said hotly. “He’ll have to show up armed with your brothers gunning for him.”

“That’s your solution? He walks into my goddamned house armed?” Thomas shot back.

“There’s no other way I’m letting my brother walk into a roomful of Wests.”

“I’ll do it,” Carson said softly.

“Carse—”

“Cal. I’m not walkin’ away from her.” He looked at his brother. “Thomas is right. I’m actin’ like a pussy. I backed down because I thought…” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “That’s the problem. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight. I am now.” He locked his gaze to Thomas’s. “Think your dad sent his sons after me instead of comin’ for me himself?”

“No. I don’t think my brothers have told our dad about you or I doubt Carolyn would’ve been allowed to leave the house tonight.”

“She’s an adult. She’s been responsible for herself since she was twelve.”

“It’s screwed up, okay? Our mom sent her away because she wanted something more for her. Yet when Carolyn comes home, things go back to her doing everything for us. I guarantee our father won’t be happy when a McKay shows up for his daughter.” Thomas’s eyes searched his. “Did you know that my dad and your dad crossed paths years ago?”

“No. What happened?”

“Words were exchanged, fists were involved and my dad put your dad in the hospital.”

“Christ. I didn’t know about that.”

Thomas shrugged. “I wouldn’t have known either if I hadn’t asked my dad’s friend Roscoe about it. My dad goes ballistic whenever the McKay name is mentioned.”

“Any idea what prompted the fight between your old man and mine?”

“Word is it doesn’t take much for the McKays to get pissed off and come out swinging. So I’m guessing, like father like sons—no offense.”

“Fuck you. I am offended because I didn’t start this one; your brothers did. Who’s to say your dad didn’t jump my dad back then?” Carson demanded.

“Seems like attack and retreat is the Wests’ style,” Cal said with a sneer.

“You wanna stand here and speculate about shit that happened before any of us were born?”

Carson shook his head. Motherfucker hurt.

“Good. I’ve got a couple of ideas on how to get back in Carolyn’s good graces.”

“What’s your suggestion?

He zeroed in on Carson. Then he rattled off what he saw as the best course of action.

As Carson listened to Thomas’s suggestions, the perfect way to prove his intent occurred to him. He was mired in thoughts on how to pull it off, when he realized Thomas was speaking to him again and he refocused.

“So I’m asking you, McKay. You gonna do right by my sister?”

“You can count on it.”

Without another word Thomas walked off.

Cal broke the silence first. “Some night, huh?”

“I’ll be feelin’ it in the mornin’, that’s for damn sure.”

“Maybe it’s best if we head home. I’ll follow you.”

Carson pushed away from the car he’d been resting against.

“Is she worth it?” Cal asked. “You’ve known her for little over a week.”

“Yeah. But it feels like I’ve been waitin’ for her forever.”

Chapter Eleven

Carolyn

Carolyn’s red-rimmed eyes nearly kept her home from church.

At least her eyes weren’t swollen shut like the last time she’d spent the night crying, after her cat had died.

But she’d never cried over a guy.

That’s because you’ve never been in love before.

If this was love, who wanted it? At least her cat hadn’t catted around on her.

Maybe she should head back to Montana and enroll in the convent.

During the miserable drive home she’d relived every awful moment: seeing him with that woman, witnessing the disinterested and dismissive expression on his handsome face.

Was it typical lovesick behavior to scroll back through all the times they’d spent together in the past week, searching for signs she’d missed that indicated he intended to use her for sex and then move on to the next conquest? She’d come up blank. Or maybe she was too naïve to recognize the warning signs.

Beverly had caught up with her as she’d dashed back to her car, tears already streaming down her face, the scream of pain and outrage stuck in her throat.

Her friend’s look of pity made Carolyn want to crawl under the car. But with Beverly’s gentle urging, Carolyn had told her what’d happened.

“Carolyn. Sweetie. He’s got a bad reputation. He isn’t interested in dating; he’s interested in screwing as many women as he can. And I’m sorry it hurts, I wanna march over there and punch him in the nose, but that’s why they call men like him heartbreakers.”

“But I thought I was different. I was—”

“Special?” Beverly inserted. “I’m sure he probably told you that in such a way you believed it. He’s very good at acting sincere because he’s used that line on so many girls before and it always works for him.”

“So I’m just a fool?”

“We all are. Heartbreak is a rite of passage.”

Carolyn wiped her eyes. “Are you afraid Mike will break your heart?”

“Every day. But I love him every day anyway. Maybe Carson will come to his senses.”

Maybe Martians will land on top of Devil’s Tower.

She snapped out of the memory when she realized she’d started to drift to the center line of the road.

Much like she had last night.

The church service was packed. Several people her mother’s age smiled at her as she slid into the fourth-to-last pew. She lifted out the hymnal and flipped to the first hymn. She loved these songs. It connected her to the past, imagining a church full of people across the world singing these same hymns of praise a century or two ago.

The organ played the processional as the altar boys lit the candles. A figure paused at the edge of the pew before sliding in next to her.

Carolyn looked over…right into Carson McKay’s blue eyes.

Her mouth dropped open and she bobbled the hymnal.

Carson steadied the book and softly asked, “Can we share this?”

She nodded. Numbly. Dumbly. Her mind wasn’t on the music or anticipating the inspirational bits she could take from this sermon to sustain her throughout her week, but got stuck on the cowboy sitting next to her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Carson’s black hair looked damp. She caught a whiff of his aftershave. He’d donned a dark brown western-cut suit. Polished dress boots adorned his feet. And she knew the man was turning heads, even in church.

The music crescendoed, signaling the start of the hymn. Carson adjusted the hymnal and she noticed his bruised and scabbed knuckles.

Her head snapped up and she caught sight of his handsome face. Her insides knotted, seeing his swollen and cut lip, the gash by his eyebrow. Another slice on his cheek. He had a serious shiner around his right eye, and bruises on his jawline.

What had happened to him last night?

When she realized she was staring and not singing, she tried to focus on the hymn. But Carson once again distracted her, his voice a deep rumble as he sang quietly beside her.

The hymn ended and the liturgy was recited. He didn’t need to read along as he seemed to have it memorized. He had no problem knowing when to kneel. He knew the prayers. His motions were automatic, as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

Why hadn’t she known that Carson had been raised Catholic?

She knew so many other things, hot and sweet and sexy things—
please Lord forgive me for letting my mind wander to such carnal thoughts during church service, amen
. But why hadn’t she asked about his core beliefs? When her religious beliefs were such a large part of who she was?

Because you gave up your virginity to him within a week of meeting him. He probably thinks you don’t have those core beliefs. Actions speak louder than words, remember?

Carson shifted to get to his billfold when the usher shoved the collection plate in front of him. She dropped a folded bill in the same time Carson did and their fingers brushed.

A jolt of awareness shot through her.

When Carolyn didn’t jerk away, he considered that her approval to hold her hand.

How much of a pushover are you?

But she liked that he’d reached out to her—in more ways than one. Giving him the cold shoulder in church, where she’d learned to turn the other cheek, would make her a hypocrite.

The service ended and people started to get up.

She faced him.

His eyes were so somber.

“Carson, why are you here?”

“To ask for your forgiveness.” He allowed a ghost of a smile before he winced in pain. “Figured I’d ask for God’s too while I was at it.”

“I didn’t know you were Catholic.”

“Baptized and confirmed in the Catholic Church in Sundance. Both my mom and Dad were Catholic. Mom made sure we went to church pretty near every week. After she died… Then we stopped goin’.” His eyes searched hers. “We need to talk. You pick where that happens.”

“Fine. It’ll be somewhere isolated so I can yell at you without everyone thinking I’m a crazy person.”

Another slight smile was there and gone. “I deserve every bit of whatever you dish out.”

They waited to shake hands with the priest, a fairly young guy. Thoughtful and kind, he welcomed Carolyn as part of the congregation even when she only attended services a few times a year.

“Carolyn. I’m so happy to see you brought a guest today.” He beamed at Carson and offered his hand. “I’m Father Dorian.”

“Carson McKay.”

“Are you from around here, Mr. McKay?”

“Sundance.”

“Ah. I’ve filled in for Father Balough a few times at the St. Ignatius.”

“I don’t know him. Father Summerall was in charge last time I went.”

“That’s been a few years.” He paused and Carson seemed to tense, as if waiting for Father Dorian’s judgment on his poor church attendance. “Which means we’re very happy to see you return to the fold. God’s blessings on the day to both of you.”

Carson kept his hand in the small of her back, steering her toward the door. He plucked his hat off the rack, settled it on his head and they stepped outside into the breezy summer morning.

“Father Dorian surprised me.”

“Because he’s so young?”

“No. Because he seems happy bein’ a priest. I know from experience they’re not all like that. Some of ’em are downright mean.”

“I’ve had a few old-school priests at St. Mary’s. But Father Dorian is just as wonderful as he appears to be. He comes out to the house to give my mother communion since she’s unable to attend services.”

He led her to his truck and opened the passenger door, assisting her up since her skirt restricted movement. Unlike last week, he didn’t try and cop a feel or steal a kiss or make a suggestive comment.

He was acting very un-Carson like.

Then again, he hadn’t acted like himself last night either, so it wasn’t all bad.

They arrived at Founders Park, which hadn’t been overrun with children yet. Again Carson was a gentleman, assisting her down the sidewalk to a picnic table beneath several large oak trees.

Her mother used to bring her here with Thomas and Kimi. She’d watch them from the car, letting them run wild on the playground. Kimi was so little Carolyn wondered if she remembered that their mother used to do…motherly type things with them before the arthritis rendered her incapable of everything.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Caro?”

“Family stuff. What are you thinking about?”

Carson was by her side in an instant; his hands gently framed her face. “I’m thinkin’ that I’m dyin’ to kiss you. I’m thinkin’ about what an ass I was to you last night. I’m thinkin’ I don’t even know where to start makin’ this up to you.” He paused. “Or if you even want me to try.”

Somehow she kept her eyes locked on his and said, “Try the truth.”

“I wasn’t with that woman last night.”

“You had your arm around her.”

“I know. But that’s all I did and only when you could see it. I dropped it as soon as you were gone.”

“Why?”

“To make you think I was a bastard. That I’d just used you, I was done with you and I moved on to someone else.”

Her stomach dropped to her toes and she tried to break free from his hold.

But he wouldn’t let her go. “You need to hear me out. It’s as hard for me to say as it is for you to hear.”

“I doubt that.”

Carson threaded their fingers together. “I’m sorry I hurt you. Really fuckin’ sorry. Afterward I punished myself by pickin’ a fight, but the pain I received wasn’t even close to the goddamn pain I saw in your eyes when I said the shit I did.”

“Language,” she murmured.

“See? You’re too good to be true. But I want that goodness in my life. I need it. I need you. I know things went a little fast between us last week. I was so tied up in knots over you that I wasn’t payin’ attention to see if anyone else might’ve taken notice of us spendin’ so much time together.”

“Someone saw us?” They’d been so wrapped up in each other that they’d rolled around on a blanket at a picnic area. They’d practically skinny-dipped at Keyhole. They’d gone at it half-naked against Carson’s truck—also just off the main road where anyone could’ve seen them. Then he’d come to her house. Specifically into her bedroom. And he’d parked in the front yard, bold as brass. “Who?”

“Your brother Harland.”

Shock froze her vocal chords.

“Evidently he saw my truck from the road that day I stopped by and he saw our goodbye kiss. He followed me home. When he realized who I was… He returned when I was alone.”

“Are any of these bruises from him?” she demanded.

“His marks are on my throat because he damn near strangled me before I knocked him on his ass.”

She twined her arms around him and pressed her cheek into his chest. She thought she’d cried herself out, but not so. A few stray tears slipped free and soaked into his shirt. “Are you okay?”

“I’m getting there. Look. The short version is your brothers all showed up around my place and threatened me if I didn’t break it off with you. Then they threw a buncha shit in my face I’d done in the past, which combined with them extolling your virtues, went a long way in convincing me to break it off with you because I didn’t deserve a woman like you.”

“All of my brothers did that?”

“Except Thomas. He watched me get my ass whipped last night at the dance after you left. So at first,” a nervous laugh slipped out, “I thought maybe he was there to finish the job. Turns out he wasn’t and he had some advice that pointed me in the right direction.”

“Which direction was that?”

Carson tipped her head back and gazed into her eyes. “Straight back to you.”’

Okay. So her knees went a little weak.

He caught her. “I’m done hidin’, sugar. I’m with you. I don’t want to be with anyone else. So I want everyone to know I’m with you—and that includes your family and mine.”

Her jaw dropped.

He covered her mouth with his, gifting her with the sweetest, most romantic, most convincing kiss. Then he scattered kisses from the tip of her chin to her temple. “Please forgive me for hurtin’ you. I’ll do anything to make it right with you. Anything.”

Carolyn clung to him, letting his soft kisses and promises bolster her courage. She’d never gotten into a fight with her brothers, besides the squabbling when they were kids. If she showed up at home with Carson McKay on her arm…what would happen?

“Caro?”

She turned and her forehead bumped into the cut on his cheek and he hissed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. How many guys did you take on last night?”

“A few.”

She stood on tiptoe and placed her lips on the wound. Then the one by his eye. Then the bruise on his jaw. And finally his upper and lower lip.

Wrapped in his arms, she was surprised to feel his heart pounding so hard.

“Am I forgiven?”

Carolyn arched back, locking her gaze to his. “Yes. But if I see your hands or any other part of you on another woman? I’ll do what needs to be done. To both of you.”

“Won’t happen again.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “What were your plans for after church?”

“I put a pork roast in the oven and told my family I’d be home to dish it up after church let out.”

“Is there enough food for me?”

She looked at him, seeing the wariness mixed with hope. “You’re serious.”

“Very serious. I won’t be throwin’ any punches—unless I’m defending myself or you—but your family needs to know they ain’t scarin’ me off. We’re done sneaking around, Carolyn. Let’s do this. Meet each other’s families and make it official that we’re together.”

Carson had on his brooding face as they drove to her house. But he kept contact with her, absentmindedly stroking his thumb over the inside of her wrist in a way that soothed her, yet awakened every nerve ending beneath that section of skin.

When they pulled into the driveway, she noticed her brother Harland’s vehicle was there, as well as Darren’s. Strange. They never showed up for Sunday dinner.

“Looks like the gang’s all here,” Carson said dryly. “You think Thomas might’ve tipped ’em off that I didn’t give a damn about their threats?”

“Maybe. More likely is someone saw us together at church and called my mother.”