12 Borrowing Trouble (16 page)

“You didn’t take him to the right counselor.  I know someone, and he’ll take what you can afford.  If your insurance pays fifty-percent, you’ll never see the rest of the bill.  If you can get the court to remand him there, the system will pay for it.”

“That sounds too good to be true.”
  That this man was offering to help her was too good to be true.

“I thought
the same thing when Sharon and Billy first took me in.  They were both too good to be true.  Goody two shoes.  But you haven’t ever had a licking from Billy.  That’s one man you never want to piss off.  Sharon does it with a look, but Billy has no qualms about taking you behind the woodshed, if you test him.”

“So this is an inpatient thing?” Carrie asked with her heart falling to her toes.
  Chris didn’t react well to structure, overbearing men.  Like her father.  He meant well, but he didn’t have patience at all.  That’s another reason she hadn’t wanted to go live there, but when she lost her house and Chris got into trouble, she had no other choice.  If her father found out what Chris had done this time, Carrie was afraid he might go off the deep end with her son.  Or talk to the judge to make it worse on Chris.  Her father loved him, Carrie knew that, but her daddy believed in tough love.  This Billy sounded a lot like him.

“Beats
juvie,” Dylan said with a shrug, without really answering her question.  “When’s his court date?”

“Ninety days,” Carrie rep
lied, gnawing her lower lip.

“Just enough time for them to whip him into shape,” Dylan said with a nod.

Fear shot through her, then fierce protectiveness.  “I don’t want him whipped,” Carrie said notching up her chin.  “If he goes there, they are not going to put a hand on him.”

“They’re counselors,
foster parents and rough stock ranchers, Carrie, not abusers.  I lived there two years and got cross-ways with Billy only one time.  That’s all it took for me to remember.  Chris will be easier than I was, I guarantee it.”

“That was fifteen years ago, right?  How old are you?”

“Thirty-two, thirty-three very soon, but I never forgot that whooping, or that lesson,” he said with a laugh.  “I haven’t smoked anything since.  Especially in a barn.”

“You had a rough life, didn’t you?” she asked with compassion squeezing her heart.

“Not as rough as some, rougher than others,” he replied with a nonchalance not reflected in his face or tense shoulders.

“What happened to your family?”

“Brothers got scattered to the wind when my mom offed herself after my dad died while he was overseas.”

“
Your dad was in the military?”

“Yeah.  Lifer.  That’s what it turned out to be anyway
,” he replied gruffly, his eyes dark.

Carrie didn’t feel so bad about her situation right then.  This man had been through so much more.  He’d been through hell, and he had survived.  “That is so sad,” she said with tears burning her eyes for the scared little boy he must’ve been.  Just like Chris surely was when Sean died.  Sucking in a shuddering breath, she stepped forward to put her arms around his waist
to hug him.  “I’m so sorry.”

Dylan’s body tensed, then he peeled her arms from around him and stepped back.  “Let’s go get your son,” he said stepping around her to unlock the door.  “I’ll call Billy and Sharon on the way.”

Three hours later, Carrie’s head was spinning, and her pockets were empty, but she felt much better about the situation with her son.  And much more optimistic that he might actually get past this alive.  She had no idea what Dylan had said to him in that small visiting room.  At his request, she had let them talk alone.  All Carrie knew is when they emerged from that room although neither was smiling, Chris wasn’t the hard-edged, close-mouthed kid she had talked to earlier.  He actually responded when Dylan spoke to him, and there was deference in his voice.  Respect.  The arrogance that had been with him since Sean died was still there, but he looked better than he had in a long time.

He walked in between her and Dylan toward the front of the building, with his release paperwork fisted in his hand.  He glanced up at Dylan, then turned his head toward her.  “Thanks, mom,” he said, before he walked ahead of them to push outside. 

He stopped on the top step and threw his face up toward the night sky, inhaling deeply.  The relief he obviously felt was mimicked inside of Carrie, but knowing his soul was so tortured ripped her heart out.  She put her hand on his back.  “Can I have a hug?” she asked.

His breath came out in a rush, and Chris nodded, then turned to throw his arms around her tightly.  Her face hit him center chest, and she suddenly realized somehow he had grown up overnight.  He was on his way to becoming a man, a good one, if he could just get his head screwed back on right.  “I love you, Chris,” she said in a broken voice.

Dylan cleared his throat and shuffled down the steps.  “I’ll be in the truck,” he said gruffly.

“He’s going to teach me to rodeo,” Chris replied
, stepping away from her, looking around like a thirteen-year-old boy, to make sure nobody saw him hugging his mother.  “There’s a program for kids like us—um, me.”

Carrie laughed.  She could hear the underlying excitement in his tone.  “Yeah, Dylan told me about it
.” She sobered and thought she should tell him it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk there.  “They’re strict though.  A lot strict—“

“I know mom,” he said with an eye roll, before he left her standing there to jog toward the truck.
  Carrie hustled down the steps and ran after him.  She caught up at the truck door.  Chris opened it and said, “Nice truck, man,” before he vaulted up inside. 

Carrie had to take a couple of bounces, grab the handle on the glove box, and pull herself up.
  She leaned over and shut the door, and Chris looked at her and laughed.  Actually laughed.  The sound was music to her laughter-starved ears. 

“You’re short,” he said, as if he just noticed that fact.

“Vertically challenged,” she corrected, as she slid on her seat belt.  “Seatbelt,” she said from habit.

“Mom,”
Chris said with a huffed breath, but he found both ends of the center belt and snapped them at his waist.

She looked up to find Dylan watching her with his hand on the keys in the ignition.  The corners of his lips twitched.  “Vertically challenged?”

“Yeah,” she replied crossing her arms over her chest.  His eyes dropped to the vee of her shirt and stayed there a moment.  Heat creeped up her neck when he licked his lips, and she felt that tongue stroke her skin.

“You’re perfectly compact,” he corrected
, dragging his eyes back up to hers.  “The only thing challenging about you is your attitude.”

Chris snorted, then chuckled, before bursting into laughter.  “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he said
, nudging Dylan with an elbow.

“Ditto, kid.”  Dylan cranked the truck, and popped the clutch to put them into motion.

Carrie harrumphed and slammed her back against the seat to look out the window, pleased, but a little annoyed too, that Dylan and her son had evidently bonded so fast.  They drove a few minutes then Chris asked, “Are we going to New Hope tonight?”

“No, we’re going to the R & R tonight.  We’ll go to Billy and Sharon’s ranch tomorrow afternoon.
  They have to make a place for you.”

“Hell, I’ll sleep in the barn,” he said with a laugh.

Carrie gasped and slapped her son’s arm.  “Stop cursing!” she grated.

“Mom, please.  That’s not cursing,” he
argued with a laugh.

“Chris—“ Dylan said in a warning tone, pinning him with an angry glare.

“Sorry, mom,” he said contritely, crossing his arms over his chest.

Quiet descended in the cab of the truck, and the hum of the road noise soothed Carrie to the point she nodded off a couple of times, but caught herself
.  Finally exhaustion claimed her and she gave up fighting it to doze off. 

A rush of cool air preceded gentle shaking.  She opened her eyes and Dylan was standing at the truck door.  “I’d carry you sleeping beauty, but I can’t.  We’re home.”

“I’ll carry her,” Chris said in a deeper than normal voice.

Dylan laughed
, as he stepped back to give her room to get down.  “I think she’d rather walk, buddy.” 

Yes, she would, Carrie thought
, as she quickly undid her seatbelt, opened the passenger door and slid to the ground.  “Chris, you can sleep in the room with me and Izzy,” she said.

“I’m staying out in the bunkhouse with Dylan.”

Carrie’s eyes flew to Dylan’s and he nodded.  “There are a couple of spare rooms out there, and since he’s going to be a hand here on weekends, one of them will be his.  He has truck repairs and bail to pay for, don’t you?” Dylan asked looking at Chris.

“Yes, sir,” Chris replied seriously
, holding Dylan’s gaze.

Pride sparked in
Carrie’s chest, and she tried to hold onto, nurture it into more, but it fled.  The jury was still out.  This was new.  Chris was not reformed yet.  But at least she had hope now that he could get better. 

God, but she was so damned tired right now, she couldn’t think straight.  Her mouth opened wide on a soul-deep yawn.
  Chris walked around the end of the truck and started toward the bunkhouse.  Dylan turned to follow him, but Carrie put her hand on his forearm.  “Thank you,” she said quietly.  “I’ll never be able to repay you.”

Dylan stared at her a moment, then reached behind her to shut the truck door.  He shoved her into the side of the truck, and his mouth covered hers.
  He held her tight against him, and kissed her hard and fast.  So fast her head was spinning when he stepped back. 

“Oh, yes you can. You’ve already made a down payment,” he said with a wink and a
sexy grin, before he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away whistling.  

A thrill zipped through her body, raising
goosebumps all the way to her toes.  She folded her arms, and rubbed them away.  “Lord have mercy, what have I gotten myself into?” Carrie whispered, as she walked toward the front porch of the house. 

If that’s what Dylan had in mind, Carrie had absolutely no intention of paying that debt back.  She was not sleeping with the man to get him to help her son.  And she was going to tell him that first thing in the morning.  When her head didn’t feel like it was filled with cotton.
  When the urge to go make her first installment was so great inside her, she could barely make her feet continue up the steps and into the house, instead of reversing to carry her to the bunkhouse too.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Carrie stirred and pried one eye open to stare at the closed bedroom door where someone was knocking loudly.  Izzy stirred beside her, whining in protest.  The persistent knocker wasn’t giving up, that was obvious when another round of banging, this
time a little louder began.  With a sigh, Carrie threw back the covers and rose.  She walked to the door and opened it. 

Smiling widely, Terri shoved a cup of coffee at her.  “I need to talk to you,” she said firmly.  “
This is a bribe.  Drink up, we’ve got to make plans.”

Shaking her head, Carrie took the cup and slugged down a large hot sip then coughed, holding her throat as it scorched all the way down to her stomach.  “What plans?”

“I’ve had five calls, bookings for the pavilion, since the wedding.  All of them said they would have their event here, only if you baked their cakes.  And you need to tell me what happened with Chris last night.  I have to call Ronnie and fill her in.  She was a little pissed to be left out of the loop.”

“I didn’t mean to leave that fast.  Dylan had my head spinning too.”

“What did he do?” Terri asked.  Carrie looked back over her shoulder at Izzy who was now sitting up in the bed rubbing her eyes and shook her head.

“Drink your coffee and I’ll see you downstairs.  I talked to Rocky, and she’s going to give little miss some riding lessons this morning.”

“Oh,” Carrie gasped.  She wasn’t sure if she wanted her daughter riding or not.  Izzy was small, and had never been around horses, except for the last couple of months at her parents’ ranch.  She took another swig of the coffee and flinched.  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Oh. My.
God
!” Izzy screeched behind her then she was standing at Carrie’s side, yanking on her night shirt.  “I want to ride again!  Who is Rocky?  Dylan said she taught kids to ride, but I want him to teach me.”

Carrie looked down at Izzy, and sighed.  It looked like son and mother weren’t the only ones Dylan Thomas had charmed.  Her daughter seemed to be just as enamored with the handsome ranch hand.  Not good.  He wasn’t a permanent part of their lives, and her getting attached to Dylan would only result in her little heart being broken.  Like Carrie’s would be broken when he was no longer in their lives.
 

“Honey,
Dylan has work to do on the ranch.  Rocky’s job is to teach riding lessons.  You’ll like her,” Carrie said then looked at Terri for help.  She had no idea who Rocky was, she’d never met the woman.  That was another reason she was hesitant to turn her over to the cowgirl for riding lessons.  But she felt sure Terri wouldn’t have her managing that part of the ranch operation if she wasn’t good.  And it would keep Izzy occupied and out of her hair so she could talk to Terri about the cakes. 

She dropped her hand on Izzy’s shoulder, and hugged her to her hip.  “Get dressed, and we’ll introduce you to Rocky,” she said.  Izzy grinned, and ran to pick up her clothes which were scattered all over the floor.  She quickly put them on. 

The same clothes she’d worn yesterday. 

That reminded Carrie that the kids didn’t have clothes with them.  What she’d sent to Trace and Ronnie’s with them was still there.  The rest were at her
parents’ ranch.  Even she was running low, since she’d overstayed her welcome here at the R & R.  Carrie groaned and Terri looked at her curiously.  “We’re all out of clothes.”

“I have a washing machine, but that’s what I wanted to talk to you about…”  Terri gnawed her lower lip.

“What?”

“I want y’all to move here to the ranch, so you can bake for me.  We have plenty of room for each of you to have your own room.”

“Chris won’t be here for three months,” Carrie said and her heart squeezed in her chest.  She knew going to that residential counseling program would be good for her son, but she would miss him terribly.

“Where the
hel—“ Terri started, but her eyes dropped to Izzy.  “Um, heck will he be?”

“Dylan found a counseling program he thinks will help him.”

“Inpatient?” Terri said with surprise.

Carrie glanced down at Izzy who was staring up at her with fear in her green eyes.  “No, it’s not like that.  He’ll stay there, but it’s more of a training program.  Dylan went through it.
  Um, that’s where he learned to rodeo.”

Terri’s eyebrows shot up, and she smiled.  “Sounds like just what the doctor ordered.  Distraction is a good thing.”

“Yeah, but I’m going to miss him.  I get to see him on the weekends though.  He’s coming here on the weekend to work with Dylan to earn money to pay back Trace for wrecking his truck, and pay me back for bailing him out.”

“Well, I’ll be dam—“ Terri started, but glanced at Izzy.  “That’s fantastic, honey.  I know that has to be a relief.”

“It is—a big relief,” Carrie agreed with a sigh.  “Now, if Chris can keep his nose clean, maybe the judge will see he’s trying to change, and go lighter on him.”

“Ronnie will be glad to hear that.  I know she was worried.”

“I’m glad to hear it too.”  She was so relieved to finally have some help for her son, and with her son, it was like a fifty pound feed sack had been lifted from her shoulders.  The jury was still out on whether it would help, but at least she was doing something.  They were doing something.  These people who before last week didn’t even know her name were helping her.

Emotion
, which wasn’t ever far from the surface these days, shot to her eyes.  “I’m so thankful for all of you,” she said with a tremble in her voice.

“You’re very welcome,” Terri said, stepping forward to hug her.  She stepped back and smiled.  “But you know I have an ulterior motive.  I want your cakes.”

Carrie laughed, and Izzy did too.  “My mommy makes d’licious cakes,” she chimed in licking her lips.  “And a lot of them.  Her cupcakes are the best though.”

Her daughter was right, she’d baked a lot of cakes in the last three years. 
To work off stress, and worry.  It had been her only outlet.  Now, they would be the cause of her stress and worry.  She would be baking them for a living.  It was just unbelievable.  But the success of that cake she baked for the wedding had given her confidence she hadn’t had in a long time.

Things were going to work out for them.
  If like Dylan said, she just tied a knot and hung on, they would all be okay soon.  Thanks to these wonderful people.  Carrie teared up again, and stepped forward to hug Terri.  “Thank you.”

Terri pushed her away.  “Stop all that blubbering, and get yourself dressed.  We have things to talk about,” she said with a laugh.  Turning she gave her a little finger wave and a wink, before walking off down the hall. 

Carrie took the last sip of now-cold coffee from the mug, then sat it on the dresser.  “You go ahead downstairs, and I’ll be down in a few minutes.  Get Miss Terri to introduce you to Rocky.”  She would talk to the woman later to give her a head’s up on how inexperienced at riding Izzy was.  Just to be safe.  She knew her daughter tended to think she was an expert at things, because she’d done them once.  Dylan had evidently put her on a pony last night.  Like Carrie had been at her age, it now appeared that her daughter had been bitten by the horse fly.

Dylan.  What the hell was she going to do about him, she thought, as she shut the
bedroom door and leaned back against it.  They’d made love down at the lake.  The cow was out of the barn now, and there was no getting her back inside.  His goodnight kiss last night told her he expected an encore performance.  It was understandable.  She was here, he was here, and he was helping her.  They couldn’t just pretend the session at the lake didn’t happen.  There was definitely some sparks flying between them. 

But those sparks could burn her if she wasn’t careful.
  Dylan Thomas was just so…lovable.  It would be easy for her to love him, to fall in love with him, if she wasn’t careful.  She had two kids who could just as easily come to love him. Carrie had to protect herself and her kids from that happening. 

The level of
his freak out about forgetting the condom at the lake told her he did not want kids.  Carrie knew there wasn’t a possibility she was pregnant, she’d just gotten off of her period and knew how her body worked.  She had been concerned for another reason, but his reaction settled her mind that he usually used a condom with other women, so she was probably safe.

If she was going to get back in the dating game once this mess with Chris was settled though, Carrie had to be better prepared in the future. 

And she wasn’t going to forget Dylan wasn’t a permanent part of that future.

You’re not my type
.  He was right, she wasn’t his type. 
You bake cookies
.  Dylan liked to eat cookies, but he didn’t like women who baked them evidently.  Too domesticated for him.  He only wanted something casual and temporary.  With her, he’d already gotten the milk for free, and he acted like he wanted more on the same terms.  Dylan needed to learn he couldn’t get the cookies to go with free milk, without buying the baker. 

If he wanted sex with her again, he was going to have to change his way of thinking, because Carrie was not having sex with him again unless he did.

***

Dylan picked up two plates from the counter.  “Thanks, Jarvis,” he said as he turned to walk to the table and set one in front of Chris Collins.  “Eat up, cowboy.  We’ve got things to do, then we have to head out.”

“Yes, sir,” he
replied with a broad smile.  He picked up his fork, and dug in to his scrambled eggs.  Typical kid-style with his mouth full, he asked, “What are we doing this morning?”

“We’re going to your grandpa’s to get your stuff.  Your mom and sister are moving to the ranch, so she can work for Terri,” Dylan explained, before digging into his own breakfast.

Chris choked, beat his chest then grabbed his glass of milk and swigged it down.  He wiped his arm over his mouth.  “They’re moving here?” he asked.

Dylan swallowed and took a sip of his milk. 
“Yep, and so are you as soon as you finish at New Hope,” he replied.

Chris’s tawny brows shot up. 
“Mom has a job here?”

“Yeah, they have weddings and stuff
at the pavilion.  Your mom’s cakes are popular.  She baked one for a wedding last weekend.”

Chris thought about that a second, as he shoved his grits around on his plate with
his fork.  “Are you and my mom dating?” he asked, and it was Dylan’s turn to choke on his eggs. 

Thank
God the other cowhands had already eaten and were out working.  He looked over his shoulder to make sure Jarvis hadn’t heard.  If he heard above the noise he was making while he cleaned the kitchen, he needed to hear. 

“No, we’re not dating.  I’m just helping her out, because
like I told you, I’ve been in your situation.  I’m not staying at this ranch.  As soon as my shoulder is better, I’m going back to the rodeo,” he explained, trying to embrace the words he’d been saying for a year and a half.  Why did they feel wrong tripping off of his tongue this time?

“That’s too bad,” Chris
replied shoveling a bite of grits into his mouth.  He shrugged nonchalantly, but Dylan could see the tenseness in his shoulders, hear the disappointment in his words.  “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Eat your breakfast, we need to get going,” Dylan said gruffly.  He finished his breakfast, and grabbed their plates then took them to the kitchen. 

Jarvis shoved him aside, when he tried to rinse them.  “Get out of my kitchen.”

Dylan grinned, and shoved him back.  “Grumpy old bastard.  You’d have some help if you wouldn’t be so mean.”
  As he usually did, Jarvis grunted, and picked up a scrubber from the bottom of the sink and attacked the plate. 

“When’s the next drive?” Dylan asked, knowing they’d pull out tomorrow.  That meant he’d be eating up at the house, since Jarvis was going out on the trail drive with the new round of guests
who would arrive that afternoon.

“Pulling out tomorrow afternoon, if they’re not too green.”

He didn’t think Sheedy, Rocky and the other hands had ever met a greenhorn they couldn’t whip into shape by the time they were ready to hit the trail. With Zane Lawrence in the mix now, they would have help, so he knew they would leave on time. 

The Aussie wasn’t going on the drive, but he was helping them with the training.  But first he had to help Dylan move Carrie Collins
’ things out here to the ranch. They had a few minutes, so he figured he’d mess with Jarvis a little more.  If he didn’t do that, Jarvis would probably think he was mad at him.  “As usual, I’ll be glad to see your backside old man, but I am going to miss your pancakes.”

“You should take your lazy ass on the drive, then.”

“My shoulder’s messed up, and you know bulls are my specialty,” Dylan said with a wide grin, as he patted his shoulder.

Jarvis grunted. 
“Yeah, bull is your specialty all right.  You’re feeding enough of it to that kid and woman to fill up a pasture.”

The grin slid off of his face, as shock shot through him.  The old cook evidently had heard his conversation with Chris Collins. 
“Mind your own business old man,” Dylan growled, turning to leave.