Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
K arlene’s head was spinning. She’d been caught out, coming out of the barn, laughing with Joey, heading to the house to make a full cowboy breakfast of sausage, bacon, eggs and hash browns which would tide them through the approaching Christmas Eve afternoon and until supper.
Her parents had been standing in the middle of the driveway, and when they’d spotted her laughing like she had no problems in the world, had launched straight into a very thorough what-for. How could she have strung along Thomas like that? Mrs. McNaughton was beside herself. Not to mention the expense the McNaughtons had gone to, or the family members who had come all the way to Sweetheart Creek for the wedding. Didn’t she owe it to Thomas to straighten it all out and walk down that aisle?
No.
Their entire grant for the next several years was dependent on collaborating with the McNaughtons. What were they supposed to say to them now that she’d run out, cost them an arm and a leg on a wedding, and humiliated their son?
I’m sorry.
They’d raised her better than this.
I know.
They’d been desperate for her to fix it all and Karlene had ended up making herself dizzy, she’d shook her head so long and hard during the conversation, trying to shake off the humiliation she’d caused herself and everyone she cared about. Then she’d fled into the big house to the soundtrack of the low scolding tone of Joey telling her parents to understand how much courage their daughter had shown by following her gut.
Not long after, Joey crouched down to where she’d sat on the floor, back against the kitchen cupboards. He sat beside her, talking to her like he was trying to coax a stray out from under his couch.
He held her as the sobs rocked through her, his body warm and strong, giving her the strength she didn’t possess.
“I’m so stupid.” She leaned back, and he tenderly used the hem of his shirt to dry her eyes.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
She’d been waiting and hoping for Joey to return her feelings that she’d become blind to what she was truly doing in her own life. Preparing to walk down the aisle with Thomas? What had she been thinking? That relationship had been wrong for so long and she hadn’t even noticed until she’d been standing in that church with eyes only for her best friend.
She was so angry with herself.
“What you did was brave.”
“Why did you nod at me in the church?”
Joey paused, silent.
Anger swirled through her, the desire to rage against him building. She could blame him, even though the fault wasn’t his.
Who was she kidding? His nod had probably just been nothing more than a supportive you’ve-got-this from a man who still thought of her as a lost kid.
But she’d felt the entire world in that small gesture. Hopes. Dreams. Possibilities.
Permission.
And it was like that nod had been saying something more. Way more.
Run.
Run, Karlene. I’ll be here for you with open arms and an open heart.
Joey needed to be out on a horse, and he felt Karlene did, too. It had been tough not telling her why he’d nodded to her in the church. The surprising feelings that had welled up inside him at seeing her as a bride.
He loved her.
He knew it for sure, the feelings swirling and brewing, growing stronger over the past twenty-four hours. Now that he had taken off the blinders, it was so obvious to him.
And probably her parents, too, judging from the way they’d laid into her. He could see how it looked—her running straight from the church and into his welcoming arms like it had all been planned.
Optics aside, this wasn’t the time to make Karlene his.
His everything.
She was on the rebound, reeling from her broken promise to marry another. She needed time. Time to make sure she was doing the right thing. Not the convenient thing she might think she wanted right now while she was in the thick of it all.
“What’s going on?” Karlene asked, entering the barn. She’d been cleaning up the kitchen while he saddled their horses and strapped the bedrolls and packs to their backs.
Now she stood with her hands on her hips in her new clothes, watching him bring her horse around. It was a nice outfit, very cowgirl. But it wasn’t the same as seeing her in his shirt and jeans. He’d never get over the burn of possessiveness he’d felt dig its way into his soul earlier. That insistent longing, like a persistent stowaway, pushing against his willpower.
But one look at her and he knew this was the wrong time to let himself off-leash. She was exhausted from the guilt and the emotional battle with her parents, as well as the tears. Crying always wiped her out, and right now she probably wanted to curl up under a heavy, thick blanket, eat candy and laugh at a goofy movie. He could give that to her, but it would kill him to watch her wallow. He needed to give her something healing to bring the bounce back into her step and the smiles and warmth in her every look.
“You need some hill therapy.” He handed her the reins to her horse, Becky, as well as a warm pair of gloves.
“I do?” The lift in her torso as she straightened, delighted by his idea, was all he needed to know.
She lifted herself into the saddle and followed Joey and Cavalcade out of the yard, Brody following them with a happy bark.
They had several hours before sunset. Plenty of time to reach their destination—not the cabin. They’d let the squirrels enjoy a quiet Christmas without them there.
“Tomorrow’s Christmas,” she pointed out. “And we’re camping out?”
“That work for you?”
She was silent for a moment, as though considering whether it did or not. “Did you bring cranberries?” she asked. “Turkey? Potatoes?”
“Of course. All canned.” He patted the bag strapped to the rear of his saddle.
She remained silent for a beat. “Is there such thing as canned turkey?”
“Guess you’ll find out.” He flashed a smile and led them through a narrow trail in the brush, then rode alongside the creek. They continued up the hills, riding side by side and through a meadow and toward a thicket. They’d camped out here with Blake when Karlene was fifteen. It had been their first of many camp-outs, but they hadn’t been here since, and he figured it was due time to return.
They set up camp, along with a tent.
“You can sleep in there,” Joey said, tossing her roll inside.
“No.” She dragged it out again.
“It’s going to be cold again tonight.”
“So you get to stay out here under the stars, and because I’m a woman I have to sleep in the tent?”
“You were half frozen when you rode in this morning.” He shook his head once at her stubbornness, grateful she had the spunk to push back, but worrying she was going to freeze herself out of pride. Maybe they should have stayed home. But her in the tiny house and him in the big house—somehow, it didn’t feel right to have that distance between them when she was feeling so down.
Or maybe he was just greedy and wanted as much of her as possible. Because maybe deep down he still feared she’d leave his ranch and marry Thomas after all, and that would be that. Their friendship would wither and die and he’d be stuck loving a woman who was someone else’s wife.
Either way, he wanted every moment with her, even if she kept him up half the night with her snoring on the hard ground.
She plunked down in front of the fire he was building, rooting through the food pack.
“I was only cold because squirrels had nested in the cabin’s chimney.”
“You chose indoors?” he asked, still trying to sort out what her night in the cabin had been like. She’d been strangely silent about it all. Her brother Blake was a sleep-inside kind of guy, but his sister was all about being under the stars. “Why?”
“It was snowing.”
“Snowing?” He looked up at the sky. He’d checked the forecast, but now he worried he’d set them up for a night that was going to be more than they wanted to handle.
“Teeny flakes.” She laughed. “I’m getting soft in my old age.”
She pulled rations from their pack. A can of cranberries, canned turkey, and canned potatoes. Then butter and a loaf of bread. His plan was to make bush pies by squeezing the sandwich between the two cast-iron plates in his bush pie maker and then cooking it over the fire.
Joey let his shoulder and thigh rest against Karlene’s as they sat cross-legged on the ground. “Suit yourself then. Prove your toughness and stay out here and freeze. I’ll take the tent.”
“Or we could both share the tent.”
Her words hung like an invitation. Just within reach. All he had to do was say “Okay.”
He turned to her, his face close to hers, his voice gentle. “You snore.”
“Ha! You do.” She reached across herself to poke him in the ribs. He jolted, but didn’t move or retaliate.
His eyes met hers, but she quickly looked away, her focus back on the fire.
“Thanks for the thing with my parents,” she mumbled.
“Yeah.” He’d been angry at the way they’d lit into her and let their own problems be bigger than their need to parent their hurting daughter.
Didn’t anyone else get it? If you loved someone, you backed them because they were important to you. It didn’t matter what had happened and if you thought they should have done better. Karlene had already managed to do the best she could do in that moment. And as a result she’d done something incredibly brave. You didn’t run away from your own wedding for no reason.
They cooked their turkey bush pies, and Karlene was several bites into hers when she asked, “Why do you think Tom hasn’t come to see me?”
He could hear the lump in her throat, the unspoken fear that Thomas didn’t think she was worthy of fighting for.
“Maybe he’s giving you space?” Joey offered.
But he knew that if you truly loved a woman, you’d go to the end of the earth to find her, to talk, to find a way to make it right.
In his books, it was clear that Thomas McNaughton didn’t love Karlene Spragg anywhere near as much as he should.
Maybe Thomas had come by the ranch to see her and Joey had told him where to go, acting like a beautiful wall between her hurting heart and confused mind.
Karlene shook her head. Joey wouldn’t do that. He’d run gentle interference and protect her, but not stand between her and her fiancé. Even if Joey seemed to secretly believe Thomas was a pretty-boy cowboy. She’d heard him mutter that in his barn once after Thomas had stopped by to pick her up in an expensive pair of cowboy boots and a new Stetson—his ranch manager clothes, as Karlene thought of them. Thomas spent more time between four walls than out branding, herding and mucking out barns, and she’d once teased him that he wasn’t a real cowboy at all. He’d agreed, stating proudly that he was a rancher.
Joey’s brows lowered as he took a massive bite of his sandwich, cranberry oozing out the backside of it and dropping onto his tin plate.
She set her sandwich to the side and Brody claimed it, finishing it in one big, greedy gulp. “Brody!”
“He’s going to be gassy now,” Joey complained. “He’s sleeping in the tent with you.”
“He can have it. I’ll be out here.”
“Freezing your butt off.”
“Possibly.” He hadn’t bitten on her offer to share the tent. What was up with him? Was it the age gap? The fact that Blake would freak out if they got together?
She could easily see her life with Joey. Campouts, chores, laughter. Very different from Thomas’s approach to ranch life. He carried a lot of expectations, which kept him on a tightrope. Whereas Joey had the freedom of letting only himself down, not a massive family legacy.
A burble of laughter escaped her.
“What?”
“I was trying to imagine you working in an office.”
“I have an office.”
“And how much time do you spend in it, Mr. McCall?”
Joey gave a slow, crooked grin that made her heart hiccup. “As little as humanly possible.”
“That’s what I figured, cowboy.”
They tidied up their first course, then set about using the cast iron press for dessert pies. Karlene buttered the bread while Joey opened a can of cherry pie filling and broke up a chunk of dark chocolate. She fit one slice of bread into the mold while Joey piled on the filling and bits of chocolate. Then another slice of bread on top and they closed up the contraption, putting it in the fire to brown as well as melt the chocolate.
“Why’d you stay so long?” Joey asked. “Because of his ranch?”
Karlene sat silently for a moment, considering. She wasn’t sure if she had a short answer that went beyond being sucked in by the dream of living on a ranch.
“Sorry,” Joey said, his tone gruff. “It’s not my business.”
“You’re my friend, harboring me in my time of exile. It’s very much your business.” She pointed to the sky, which had darkened, a shooting star soaring across it. “Make a wish.”
“Already did,” he said, not looking up from his cooking.
“What does a cowboy wish for?”
“Little cowboys and cowgirls to help with the work.”
“Not an adult cowgirl first?”
“It’s in the bag.”
She laughed, heat rising in her cheeks at his surety. “An implied given if you get the little ones?”
She watched him, softened by his admission of wanting a family. Of course he did. It wasn’t as though she’d ever thought him immune or to stay a bachelor forever. She supposed she simply hadn’t tried to see his dreams from his viewpoint. Instead, always seeing his future from her own, and wondering where she might or might not fit into things.
The idea of him finding a wife that wasn’t her was unsettling. What if the woman didn’t want her and Joey to be friends any longer? What if she made little digs like Thomas often had, a hint of jealousy that tainted their happiness? And what if Joey’s wife saw that Karlene’s feelings ran much deeper than friendship?
“How old is your dream cowgirl?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“Age doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“It’s true.”
“Is not! For all the times you’ve ridden me about being so young, you’re now claiming that age is unimportant?”
“You’re not a kid anymore, Karlene.” The way he looked at her, the firelight dancing in his eyes and his voice dropping to an intimate octave, she could have sworn she’d caught a glimpse of hunger. She blinked and looked away.
What if she had been his shooting star wish?
And what if his wish came true?