Chapter 10
10
Bailey
B ailey stood at the counter in her kitchen, her head hanging low and her hands resting in front of her. She’d run through the events of Saturday a thousand times, and she still couldn’t make sense of what had happened.
One second Carter was throwing away the trash, and the next he’d tackled some out-of-towner to the ground and was treating him like a literal punching bag.
She’d immediately gathered Anya and hurried away before her daughter got a good look at who was involved in the fight. It shouldn’t have mattered. Instinctively, Bailey knew that. But already Anya had grown attached to Carter. Two interactions and the kid had fallen for the guy.
What did that say about Bailey that she’d fought her own interest so hard?
Bailey shook her head, but the movement wouldn’t relieve her of the emotions swirling inside her. Carter had been dragged off by the authorities, looking worse for wear. He’d had blood spilling from his nose and his lip. His cheekbone was slightly swollen—at least that was what she’d noticed before they’d officially taken their leave.
She had a feeling that the news of the fight would spread faster than wildfire. People were going to talk about that Keagan who lost control. Bailey felt bad for him. He was going through something, and he’d taken it out on a stranger. The problem with that narrative was that Bailey couldn’t connect it with what she had learned about Carter. He didn’t seem the type to pick a fight for no reason.
So why did he swing first?
Then again, what did she know about Carter anyway? She needed to get him out of her head and just focus on something else. Wandering through the house, she analyzed it much like she had before signing her rental agreement.
The house she rented was on an acre of land and out near other ranches. That was one of the reasons she’d gotten such a good rate on it. The town was divided into two groups. The ranchers and the townsfolk. Those who operated the ranches needed the space on the outskirts of town, while those who didn’t know a lick about farming chose to find housing as close to town as possible.
Bailey was in the latter group, but this tiny two-bedroom farmhouse would have served better as an Airbnb than it did as a long-term arrangement. It served her purposes for the time being. She’d needed something in her budget, and it fit the bill.
There was a grocery list of things she disliked about the property. The fact that it was so far from town made her uneasy. If there was an emergency, she didn’t think she’d get help nearly in time. Her closest neighbors were a few miles in either direction, both farmers. The house was old and drafty, which made for really cold nights during the winter. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it was haunted.
On the flip side, she liked the size of the common areas. While it only had two bedrooms and two bathrooms, it did have a decent-sized living space and kitchen. There was enough room to spread out if she were to invite a few guests over. The rustic décor and design made her feel more at home than she’d expected.
Out back, there was an old barn that was likely going to fall over in the next decade if the owners didn’t do something about it. Closer to the house, they’d put up a shed for storage.
She stared out the window, the landscape lit by the moon hanging low in the sky. It was hard to see much of anything unless she kept the lights off; then it felt like everything glowed. Movement in the shadows made her heart skip, and she scooted closer to the window. Someone darted across the lawn, making a beeline for the shed.
Her heart leaped into her throat, and she stumbled back a step. Someone was snooping around the property. Bailey’s wide eyes swept through the house. What did she have for protection? She didn’t own a firearm, though now she was wishing she did. There were kitchen knives, but those forced her to get real close to whomever it was out there.
Then her eyes landed on a set of iron fire pokers. Without a second thought, she hurried across the room and grabbed one. She glanced down the hall where Anya slept, and her determination grew. No one was going to threaten her family.
Despite the below-freezing temperature, Bailey felt hot—practically on fire. She darted through the snow, wincing with each crunching footstep. When she reached the edge of the barn, she held the poker to her chest and closed her eyes, willing her heart rate to slow. She needed to be level-headed about this. Sure and swift movements.
Something crashed inside the shed and a low, muffled curse came through the open doorway. Bailey inched closer to the door, breaths coming out in sharp, anxious puffs. Then a terrifying thought crossed her mind. What if the man Carter had gotten into a brawl with had been threatening her? What if Carter had been trying to keep her safe?
Fear gripped her chest, making her breathing shallower. She should have called someone. What was she thinking, coming out here to take on an intruder? It was too late for that. She needed to handle this. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she steeled herself for the onslaught.
“I know you’re in there,” she practically screamed.
The shuffling stopped, but no one spoke. He was going to spring at her; she just knew it. She couldn’t give him the chance to do that. Footsteps moved to the doorway, and as soon as they were close enough, she jumped out to block the man. Bailey swung the poker out and made contact with the intruder, the metal ringing out with a sickening thud.
Bailey let out a triumphant gasp when she heard him grunt and stumble to his knees. Then he let out an expletive, followed by her name.
“What was that for?”
Her poker fell to the snow at her feet, and she peered into the dark shed. “ Carter ? What are you doing here?”
He groaned and carefully got to his feet, leaning in the doorway of the shed while holding a hand to a spot a little over his temple. He swore again as he pulled his hand away. “I’m bleeding.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “You were trespassing.”
Carter winced, his footing unsure as he straightened. He grasped onto the doorframe. “You pack quite a punch, you know that?” He shuffled again, unsteady. “Sorry. I’ll leave.”
Bailey’s heart was still pounding. Adrenaline coursed through her veins like a drug. With the threat gone, she couldn’t help feeling a little guilty about what she’d done. When he stepped into the moonlight, she gasped. The blood was dripping down his head. He was going to need that looked at. She sighed. “You’re not going anywhere until you get patched up.”
Once inside the house, she helped him to the table, a process that took a great deal longer than it should have. Under the kitchen lights, he looked worse for wear. There was bruising around his eyes and his nose. The cut on his lip wasn’t actively bleeding, but it still glared at her. The fresh wound on his head that had been her doing was the angriest of all.
Bailey hurried to the cupboard beneath her sink and pulled out the first-aid kit, and then she gathered some clean rags and some alcohol. “This isn’t going to feel great,” she murmured.
His disconcerted eyes briefly met hers. They were laced with pain—a different kind of pain than physical.
She poured the alcohol onto the rag and pressed it to his forehead. He groaned, and his hand shot up to grasp onto her wrist. Carter’s movements had surprised her, but it wasn’t painful. Their eyes met, his focus holding more clarity. “I have to clean it first,” she whispered.
Carter didn’t release her hand immediately. A myriad of emotions crossed his features before he finally succumbed.
Bailey worked quickly, the process familiar. How many nights had Jack come home drunk and having just lost a bar fight? Countless. She’d gotten so good at patching him up that she could have done it in her sleep. The whole time, Carter’s sharp gaze followed her movements. He grimaced only a couple times, and by the time she was done, he seemed to have regained his ability to think clearly.
“I take it you’ve done stuff like this before,” he said quietly as she gathered up the supplies. The way he said it made it clear he was talking about her late husband. She didn’t respond. “I’ve been in a few fights over the last couple years, but I can’t say I’ve ever had to be patched up like that before. I guess it’s par for the course when you mix having a gambling problem with a little bit of alcohol.”
She did her best not to react to that statement. He was referring to himself, but the way he phrased it hit her in ways she wasn’t prepared for. He’d just described Jack to a T—except Jack had been a full-fledged alcoholic. “Why are you here?” she asked him softly.
Carter’s shrewd gaze never left her face. “I got in a fight with my brothers.”
Her brows lifted.
“Not a physical one,” he muttered as if reading her thoughts.
She cleared her throat as she returned to sit across from him. “They weren’t too keen on you getting arrested, I take it.”
“That and… some other issues.” He wasn’t going to divulge the extra details, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Bailey returned to her seat at the table. She fidgeted with her hands, and her brows came together. “I’m a little surprised you chose to come… here .” She was more than surprised. For the life of her, Bailey couldn’t figure out what possessed him to think he’d be any more welcome at her home than his own. They weren’t exactly on the best terms, either.
He broke eye contact then, opting to stare at anything but her. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.” The words were murmured just above a whisper. A flush of color crept up his neck and settled behind his ears. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” He got to his feet and swayed a bit, causing her to launch out of her chair to steady him.
“You can’t go anywhere in your condition.”
His eyes met hers. He was standing so close that she could smell his woodsy aroma. There were hints of apples and spice, and the combination sent shivers down her spine. She looked down where she held his upper arm and immediately released him. “You can sleep on the couch. It’s not as comfortable as a bed, but it’s better than sleeping in the shed.”
Carter’s expression didn’t change. There was no indication that he was surprised by her offer or even pleased by it.
“Tomorrow, I can rearrange things so Anya sleeps in my room. Then you can take her room until this whole mess is figured out.”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t?—”
“I can understand your desire to distance yourself from your family. Sometimes it can be hard to keep the peace—especially around the holidays. Of course, you’ll have to agree to some strict ground rules, but we can go over those in the morning.”
Carter swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes penetrated hers, making her wonder if she was making the right decision. The offer had come out of nowhere, but there was no taking it back now. She’d just have to make sure he understood her expectations while staying under her roof.
Besides, it might not be so bad to have a strong man around again. It would definitely make her feel safer. And there would be no more chance encounters with prowlers out at her storage shed. She took a decided step backward. “I’ll get you some bedding.”