Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Jude
Three days and two nights alone with Carson loomed large in my brain, and our trip was the only thing I could think about all week after Kat agreed to the plan to take Carson and the horses to Fort Collins.
August heat in Colorado was nothing to mess with, so we’d decided to get a super-early start on Friday morning to avoid the worst of the heat and the tourist traffic.
Accordingly, the sun had yet to make an appearance as Carson and I loaded up.
I was borrowing an air-conditioned horse trailer from the ranch, and it slid onto the hitch of my new truck like a key in a lock, first try.
The truck’s hitch cam feature helped, but so did Carson, who directed my maneuvers with practiced ease.
Working with him was like gaining a clone, one who knew what I needed even before I asked.
Linus continued to be hard to lead, but Carson loaded both horses as if he’d been a cowboy for decades.
Heck, I’d seen plenty of seasoned rodeo folk struggle with getting stubborn stock on a trailer, but Carson emerged from the trailer without a drop of sweat.
“All set.” He dusted off his hands on his jeans.
“Did you secure the leads?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yep. Everything’s good.” Seemingly not at all put out by the question, he gave me a smile before motioning at the trailer gate. “Double check?”
“Nah. I trust you.” I smiled back, warm awareness spreading through my chest because I did trust him.
Carson proven to be a more than capable assistant on my various visits to the ranch, unflappable even in the sight of needles or blood and able to calm the most anxious horses. He also had that military-honed attention to detail. If he said a job was done, it was done right.
Carson shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with praise as always. “Gotta grab my bag.”
He headed into the barn, where he’d dumped a backpack earlier, right as Kat came striding up from her trailer, which was located beyond the bunkhouse.
“You look ready to go.” She rolled her shoulders as she stifled a yawn.
“Yep. You’re up early, even for ranching time.” I chuckled. Casey likely wouldn’t have breakfast ready for another hour at least.
“Well, I wanted to see you off.” She patted my upper arm. “Thanks again for doing this. These two rescues have already wormed their way into my heart, especially Linus. I’m not ready to give up on him.”
“Me either.” I sighed because the universe often cared very little for my wishes.
Fate could be cruel to the nicest of horses.
Despite seeing my share of heartbreaking cases over the years, my stomach twisted at the thought of needing to make hard decisions where Linus was concerned. “Let’s see what the center finds.”
“Here’s hoping.” Kat’s dark eyebrows drew together, serious expression matching her solemn tone. “And thanks for taking Carson. Likely do him good to get off the ranch.”
“He’s hardly a chore. He’ll be a big help when I have to stop.” I didn’t care for the implication that being nice to Carson took extra effort, but I kept my voice light. “And I like the guy.”
Of course Carson chose that moment to reappear, undoubtedly hearing my comment about liking him. I’d meant like in the friendship sense, but my skin heated as if caught confessing a crush.
“Ready to roll.” Carson tossed his backpack into the rear seat, expression a little too carefully neutral, as if he were forcing the business-as-usual tone.
“Me too.” I smiled, hoping that might defuse the weirdness. “Let’s see how far we can get before breakfast.”
“Sounds good.” He climbed into the passenger seat as I said goodbye to Kat.
As we headed for the main road, I adjusted the camera feature so I could glance at the trailer.
“Tow mode sure is sweet.” Carson stretched in his seat, eyes sparkling.
“Gotta admit I’m enjoying the truck.” I chuckled because he knew he had me.
As did Luna, who’d been lording it over me the past few weeks since I bought the truck.
She had also been right that I’d been long overdue the upgrade.
Making my rounds in the August heat was way more pleasurable these days.
“Powerful AC. Nice stereo. Cameras. And it hauls well.”
“Not much sway.” Carson let out a yawn before gesturing at the console, where two travel mugs that I hadn’t noticed before waited. “Grabbed you some coffee.”
“Thanks.” My throat went thick. It had been a very long time since someone had cared enough to make me an early morning cup of coffee. I forced a teasing tone to cover my rising emotions. “I bet you’re part of the long line of sergeants who take theirs black.”
“Wrong. Needs sugar.” Carson grinned, clearly enjoying correcting my assumption.
Outside, the rugged terrain on either side of us, with no houses or towns in sight, made it seem like we were the last truck on the planet.
Soon enough, we’d hit I-70 and plenty of interstate traffic, but the wide-open road was nice while it lasted.
“I agree.” Carefully juggling steering and drinking, I took a quick sip from the cup closest to me. Sweet and milky, exactly how I usually took it. “You nailed my usual order as well.”
“Hardly a bara…” Carson’s eyes narrowed as he searched for the word, voice going more hesitant. “Coffee… Coffee clerk. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” I shot him a reassuring grin. “Doubt I pronounce barista right myself.”
“Hate when words don’t come.” He slumped in his seat. He seemed to have good days and bad days when it came to speech, but lately, the good days had seemed more plentiful.
“I’m sure it’s hard.” I adopted a commiserating tone, hoping I didn’t sound flippant. “If I were Simone, I’d heap on the platitudes like, ‘You’re doing great’ or ‘It will get easier,’ but I know you well enough by now to know you’d growl at me.”
“Grrrr.” Carson flashed his teeth at me when I glanced his direction to check the trailer cam. “Or bite.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I shot back before thinking better of the joke. “Sorry. Inappropriate humor.”
“Heard worse.” Carson shrugged as his expression turned more thoughtful. “Are you…?” He trailed off before he could finish the question. “Never mind. Not my business.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind sharing.” I could guess what he’d been about to ask.
My joke might have been poorly timed, but I wasn’t put off by the question.
If anything, it was an opportunity for a conversation we probably needed to have.
“I’m pan. I wasn’t out while I served, but vet school provided some opportunities to explore.
Not much time for dating, but I had a couple of good friends with benefits. ”
“Friends are good.” Carson’s tone was maddeningly vague. “But friends can get messy.”
“Word.” I’d had a few friendships go south after benefits were added myself. “Speaking from experience?”
“A little.” Carson didn’t seem inclined to elaborate, but my body hummed with the need to know more.
“I won’t push, but I’ll admit to some curiosity,” I said after giving him a lengthy pause to say more. “You didn’t date while you served?”
“Not much time.” Carson kept right on being vague. He took a sip of his coffee before adding, “A few friends here and there.”
“I see.” I shot him a questioning look, hoping to encourage him to get specific.
His cautious use of gender-neutral terms had me hopeful, but I didn’t want to assume.
My brain buzzed, however, as my mind raced back to that night under the stars, the moment we’d almost had.
Maybe he would have been more amenable to a move than I’d thought.
The silence dragged out, going from conversational pause to awkward, so I reached for the touch screen to flip on the radio. However, before I could settle on a station, Carson cleared his throat.
“Mainly guy friends.” Carson’s voice was a gravelly whisper. “Not out.”
“I get it. I won’t tell,” I assured him quickly. “Thanks for trusting me.”
“No problem.” Carson directed all his attention toward the stereo, predictably settling on a contemporary country station before he pulled out his phone. As we approached I-70, he started humming along to a ballad about a friend lost too soon.
“You have a nice voice.” I kept the compliment light and easy.
“Not bad.” Carson’s mouth twisted as he looked up from his phone. “Singing is easier than talking. Go figure.”
“Hey, I’ve got an undergrad degree in biology and still don’t understand the mysteries of the brain.” I found Carson’s recovery fascinating from a neurological perspective, but I hardly wanted him to feel like a lab rat. Instead, I shifted the topic. “Ready for breakfast?”
“Yep. Diner outside of Grand Junction.” He tapped his phone. “Decent reviews.”
“Thanks. It’s good to have a copilot.” The back of my neck heated as if touched by an invisible hand. I was so used to worrying about myself. Having someone else handle the little details was a welcome novelty.
“Glad to be useful.” Carson gave a self-conscious chuckle. “Passenger princess.”
“Hardly.” I grinned at him.
I couldn’t make not driving easier on him, but I could appreciate what he brought to the table. We made a good team, which meant there was that much more to lose if I pushed the invisible boundaries of our friendship.