Chapter Seven
Carson only arrived back at his house around six. He’d been out on his horse with his camera and George in a packsaddle. It had been a beautiful fall day and he’d enjoyed taking pictures of the rich orange, brown, and red trees on the ranch.
Photography had always been his way of shutting out the noise.
Through a camera lens, he could control what he saw, focus on the perfect picture in a particular moment in time.
As a child, this hobby of his had been his sanctuary from his mother’s harsh words and his dad’s long-suffering face.
While photographing, he could ignore everything else.
He was excited to develop these. Hopefully Noah Felix, the owner of the gallery in Spokane, would like them as well. On the back of a horse had always been his happy place, but today he was restless.
As he stepped into his house, he checked his phone for the first time since this morning. Arlene had texted to say she’d sent leftovers with June but there wasn’t anything from Abby as he’d hoped.
His tummy rumbled. He hadn’t had anything since this morning’s sandwich. He put George down and left his camera on the table. “Okay, George, let me feed you and get myself cleaned up before we visit other people. I’m hungry and my fridge is empty.”
George just about attacked his food. Poor baby was also hungry.
Half an hour later, Carson stopped in front of his brother’s house. He’d showered quickly and put on clean clothes. Maybe once he’d eaten, this empty feeling inside of him would fade.
The front door opened as he took the steps two at a time, George in his arms.
Dylan smiled. “You’ve heard we have leftovers for you?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Carson said as he walked into the house. “Arlene texted. I won’t bother you …” His breath caught. Abby and June were coming down the corridor.
As Abby’s startled green eyes met his, his heart sighed. He’d wanted to see her so badly. Why he’d thought if he didn’t see her today, he’d be able to put her out of his mind, he had no idea.
He couldn’t stop the grin if he’d tried. “Hi.” George wriggled, so he put him down before he moved toward Abby. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“I’m on my way to take her back,” June said. “We’re going shopping in Bozeman tomorrow, so Abby only has today to take the measurements of the closets and cabinets in the house.”
He caught Abby’s eyes. “You did say you’ll think about organizing my house as well. You can have a look at it now, if you like. I’ll take you back to town when we’re done.”
Dylan slapped him on the shoulder. “Are you sure? I don’t know whether Abby would survive seeing the state of your house.”
“Abs?” June asked as she turned to Abby. “I’m happy to take you back.”
“No, it’s fine. Okay,” she said, looking at Carson, “I’ll go with you, but if I don’t think I can help you, I’m not going to.”
He nodded. “Fine with me. Shall we go?”
Dylan was waiting at the door with a container in his hands, his eyes laughing. “The reason why you actually came over. Don’t forget George. He and Daisy are still playing.”
Grimacing, Carson quickly turned back. He’d completely forgotten about the food and George.
*
“This is it,” Carson was saying as he stopped in front of a house.
Bemused, her eyes on the house, Abby got of the car. Her heart swelled until she was worried her body would simply burst open. This was it. Her dream home. Painted white, with green shutters, black roof, and a wide porch.
“Abby?” Carson asked, touching her elbow. “You okay?” George ran up the stairs toward the front door.
“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just … never mind. Show me your house.”
Carson opened the door hesitatingly. “As you know, I’m not very tidy.”
Brushing past him, she walked into the house through the entryway and entered what was probably the living room, although it was hard to know exactly what was beneath all the books and pieces of clothing and other clutter strewn over the place.
Her eyes turned to the kitchen that was adjacent to the living room.
No dirty dishes were stacked in the sink as she’d feared, thank goodness, but every inch of every surface in the kitchen and living room had something lying or standing on it.
Her eyes scanned the floor and she relaxed slightly. The place was untidy, but it wasn’t dirty, so hopefully nothing nasty was hatching underneath all the clutter.
Without saying a word, she moved down the corridor. It was the strangest thing, even inside, the house resembled her dream house.
The door to the first room was closed. Pointing to the door, she turned to look at Carson.
“It’s the darkroom for my photos.”
“Oh, yes, I remember June mentioned you’re a photographer.”
“Rancher first,” he said. “But yeah, I love photography too. It’s the reason I was in Spokane. I had a meeting with a gallery owner.”
“That’s impressive. You’re having an exhibition?”
“Not solo, no, but with other photographers.”
“That’s still impressive. I didn’t know photographers still use dark rooms these days. Isn’t everything digital?”
“Yeah, but I prefer using the dark room,” he said.
“It offers a unique aesthetic and gives me control over every aspect of the image, from exposure to contrast to tonal range and grain structure. The chemical development process can produce subtle variations and imperfections that lend character and depth to the final prints. Darkroom printing also enables …” he smiled sheepishly.
“I can go on and on.” His eyes were shining, his whole body was just about vibrating.
“You love taking pictures.”
“Oh, yes. Ever since my dad gave me my first camera, I’ve been hooked. The instant you capture the light, the contrast, the image frozen in time—it gives me a real kick. Even now, after all this time.”
“So what do you photograph?”
“Landscapes, mostly. But today I’ve added George to my portfolio,” he chuckled.
She was curious to have a look inside the darkroom, but she was here to try and declutter his house. “Your room?”
“Further down,” he motioned with his hand.
Turning, she moved to the last room down the corridor and stepped inside.
Clothes, shoes, and socks were lying everywhere. Cluttered and chaotic.
“So, what do you think?” Carson asked.
She turned to face him in disbelief. “How can you live like this?”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me.”
“You have such a beautiful house,” she said. “Some people may dream about having a house like this one day and look at how you treat it. At the moment you’re treating it like a house. A place where you sleep and eat, but it’s not a home. Do you even like this place?”
“Of course,” he said. “I designed it and helped to build it.”
“So it gives you joy?”
He touched her braid. “Probably not as much joy as I get when touching you, but yeah, it gives me joy.”
Ignoring his remark about touching her, she marched back to the living room and put her notebook back in her bag.
This place seriously needed to be decluttered and organized.
She would never be able to sleep tonight if she didn’t offer to help.
“Well,” she said, crossing her arms. “I can only help you if I know you’ll keep this place neat and tidy once I’m gone. ”
His smile slipped. “I don’t want to think about you leaving.”
“My life is back in Seattle,” she said.
“Do you know why I didn’t come to lunch today although I rarely miss Arlene’s cooking?”
Turning away, she shrugged. “Can’t say I noticed.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Can you look at me and repeat that?”
Irritated with the whole situation, she turned to face him. “I …” she began before she groaned out loud. “Okay, that’s not true.”
“The reason why I didn’t go was one, I thought Willow would probably not try her sly remarks on you if I wasn’t there and two, because I had to decide whether kissing you is still a good idea knowing you’re leaving soon.”
“There’s nothing to decide. We both know it’s not a good idea,” she said but for the life of her she couldn’t look away from his eyes. One brown and one blue. “I don’t know why it doesn’t bother me,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Your eyes. There should always be order, I believe. I usually avoid things that don’t match or that are out of sync for whatever reason. But with you …”
He pulled her closer. “I like the sound of that.”
Her hands landed on his chest. Solid. Muscled.
Warm. He smelled nice. Sighing, she spread her hands out over his shirt.
“It would be so easy to throw caution to the wind and jump into your arms, but we’re not strangers in a bar anymore.
Whatever this is, it can’t go anywhere, you know that, don’t you? ”
Turning her one hand around, he pressed his lips to the inside of her hand.
Catching her breath, she groaned. “You’re not playing fair.”
“All’s fair in love and war, Abby,” he said. “Why don’t we find out what this is before you decide it can’t go anywhere? My suggestion is we spend time together. Move in with me. You’d be closer to June and …”
“Forget about it,” she quickly interrupted him. “Apart from the fact that I’ll never be able to sleep with all this clutter around me …”
Slipping his arms down her back, he chuckled. “I promise you, if you don’t get much sleep, it won’t be because of the clutter.” Bending down, he trailed his lips down her face.
“Carson …” For another moment, she enjoyed his warm lips against her skin, but she couldn’t stay here and if he kissed her, she wasn’t leaving. Pulling away, she picked up her notebook again. “Why don’t you eat, and I’ll take the measurements I need.”
“So does that mean you’ll do it?”
“It’s against my better judgment, but yes, I’ll do it. I don’t come cheap though, and I’ll have to buy containers for your closet and kitchen cabinets …”
“You can have my credit card.”
Taken aback, she stared at him. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with that. How do you know you can trust me?”
He picked up her braid again. “You’ve trusted me with your body; I think my credit card will be safe with you.”
“You can’t say things like that to me!”