Cowboy Take Me Away (Rough Riders 16)

Carson thought back to the hours he’d spent digging Carolyn’s two new flower beds—in an area she knew was comprised mainly of rock, making it backbreaking work for him. She told him every time he looked at those beds of blooms in the future that he’d remember that given the right foundation and a lot of care, beautiful things could sprout from even the rockiest ground.

In that moment he ached with how much he needed her; every bone, every blood cell, every breath, every fiber of his being.

“Carson?” Channing rubbed his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

He cleared his throat. “Seems I get sucked into memories pretty damn easily. After fifty years with her, there are lots of memories to scroll through.”

“I imagine.”

“Thanks for kickin’ my behind. Carolyn would be proud you done it in her stead. You’re a good woman, Channing. My son’s lucky to have you.” He paused. “So am I.” Pushing to his feet, he ignored the sharp pain in his ass after sitting in one place for so long. “I’ll be back. And when I get back, we’re gonna talk about why Gib is usin’ a second-rate horse for ropin’ when it’s obvious the boy has skills and needs to upgrade.”

“Talk to his father about that.”

“I’ll be talkin’ to you, bein’s that his father and me ain’t currently speakin’.”

She laughed. “Anything else?”

“Seems Austin has roped Beau, Spencer and Dimitri into tryin’ to convince me to take them all fishin’. Where’d they get the fool idea that I’m the grandpa who enjoys sittin’ out in the sun, slapping mosquitos and baiting hooks?”

“Not from me. But Gib, Braxton and Miles tried to get Austin to remember the time you and Carolyn took all four boys camping in that motor home you had for what…two days?”

“Don’t remind me. I’ll figure out something fun to do with them but it ain’t gonna be fishin’ or campin’. I learned my lesson there. How’s my youngest grandson?” Channing had suffered a miscarriage when Keely was pregnant with her first child. At that point both Colby and Channing thought they were done adding to their family. So no one was more surprised—or thrilled—than they were three years later when their little “oops” Duncan was born.

Channing sighed. “He’s the perfect baby. I am so lucky to have his brothers as my helpers because I’m so much more tired having a kid at my age than I was when I had Gib. Colby is a lot more mellow around him too, especially now that Duncan is six months old and doing cute baby stuff.” She nudged Carson with her knee. “Talia is still asking when you’re coming over for another tea party.”

Carson smiled, thinking about Colby’s shocked face last year when he’d walked in on Grandpa and Talia having a tea party, complete with Grandpa wearing a rhinestone crown and a glittery purple feather boa.

Colby had frozen in the doorframe, his mouth hinged open like a busted gate. “Dad? What’s goin’ on?”

“Me’n Princess Talia are havin’ tea.”

“B-but…” Colby’s wide-eyed gaze had winged between them. “Since when do you do that sort of thing?”

Carson raised his eyebrow. “Since my last child was a girl who liked havin’ tea parties and her mama couldn’t always oblige her. And since I’ve been blessed with six granddaughters who are old enough to host tea parties, and three more girlies that’ll be of that age soon enough. Why?”

“You did this with Keely?”

“More times than I can count.” Carson pretended to sip his tea. “You oughta try it. Talia makes a mean pot of tea.”

“Carson?” Channing prompted.

“Sorry. Told ya I’ve been tripping down memory lane.”

“It’s okay.” Channing settled in his chair with a stack of magazines. “Get going.”

Carson walked out of the hospital in a daze.

The sun shone from a cloudless blue sky. A soft breeze rippled the leaves on the trees ringing the parking lot. He squinted at the vehicles lined up in neat rows, searching for the familiar tailgate with the extended ball hitch.

No sign of his truck.

Where the devil had Channing parked it?

Rather than wander aimlessly, he hit the panic button on the key fob and followed the bleating horn noise to his dusty Dodge.

The interior was the same mess. He adjusted the seat and the rearview mirror and pushed up the sun visor.

Carolyn’s sunglasses fell onto the dash. He snatched them up, staring at the black plastic dotted with rhinestones, overwhelmed by the absence of her. The little things might just do him in. Set him on that path of tears he’d managed to avoid. So far he hadn’t broken down entirely, not out of some macho need to show no emotion, but simply because he feared if he started crying he wouldn’t be able to stop.

Get moving. The sooner you get this done the sooner you can come back to her.

Starved, he hit the drive-thru at McDonald’s. After that, he stopped into a convenience store and bought a pack of cigarettes. Whenever stress got to him, he smoked. Carolyn never judged him—she’d always claimed she’d rather him smoke every once in a while than be a fulltime tobacco chewer. He hadn’t kicked that habit entirely either. Some days he needed a pinch of Redman—not that he told his wife that, but she probably knew anyway.

The nicotine from those first few puffs gave him a head rush. But he’d made the trip from Spearfish on I-90 heading toward Sundance so many times over the years he could’ve driven it with his eyes closed.

His thoughts jumped from one thing to another, but they never strayed far from Carolyn. If she had any awareness at all. If she was suffering any pain—despite the doctor’s assertions the medications handled that.

He didn’t meet any vehicles on the road that led to the ranch. Out of habit he checked out the pasture on his left, even when he knew the cattle had been moved to different grazing areas weeks ago.

Before Carson turned into the driveway, he pulled up to the mailbox and grabbed the stack of mail that’d accumulated over the past few days. Then he whipped a U-turn and headed up the gravel road that would bring him home.

Home.

He’d lived in this house most of his life. From birth until age eighteen. Then he and Caro and their oldest three boys had moved in after Jed’s heart attack and this place had become too much house for one man. As the oldest McKay heir, albeit only by a few minutes, he’d stood first in line to inherit. His only brother who’d complained about that was Casper—until their father pointed out that over the last decade, Casper, Charlie and Cal had received houses and Carson hadn’t.