Cowboy Take Me Away Part 23

Carson shook his head. Motherf.u.c.ker hurt.

"Good. I've got a couple of ideas on how to get back in Carolyn's good graces."

"What's your suggestion?

He zeroed in on Carson. Then he rattled off what he saw as the best course of action.

As Carson listened to Thomas's suggestions, the perfect way to prove his intent occurred to him. He was mired in thoughts on how to pull it off, when he realized Thomas was speaking to him again and he refocused.

"So I'm asking you, McKay. You gonna do right by my sister?"

"You can count on it."

Without another word Thomas walked off.

Cal broke the silence first. "Some night, huh?"

"I'll be feelin' it in the mornin', that's for d.a.m.n sure."

"Maybe it's best if we head home. I'll follow you."

Carson pushed away from the car he'd been resting against.

"Is she worth it?" Cal asked. "You've known her for little over a week."

"Yeah. But it feels like I've been waitin' for her forever."

Chapter Eleven.

Carolyn

Carolyn's red-rimmed eyes nearly kept her home from church.

At least her eyes weren't swollen shut like the last time she'd spent the night crying, after her cat had died.

But she'd never cried over a guy.

That's because you've never been in love before.

If this was love, who wanted it? At least her cat hadn't catted around on her.

Maybe she should head back to Montana and enroll in the convent.

During the miserable drive home she'd relived every awful moment: seeing him with that woman, witnessing the disinterested and dismissive expression on his handsome face.

Was it typical lovesick behavior to scroll back through all the times they'd spent together in the past week, searching for signs she'd missed that indicated he intended to use her for s.e.x and then move on to the next conquest? She'd come up blank. Or maybe she was too naive to recognize the warning signs.

Beverly had caught up with her as she'd dashed back to her car, tears already streaming down her face, the scream of pain and outrage stuck in her throat.

Her friend's look of pity made Carolyn want to crawl under the car. But with Beverly's gentle urging, Carolyn had told her what'd happened.

"Carolyn. Sweetie. He's got a bad reputation. He isn't interested in dating; he's interested in s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g as many women as he can. And I'm sorry it hurts, I wanna march over there and punch him in the nose, but that's why they call men like him heartbreakers."

"But I thought I was different. I was-"

"Special?" Beverly inserted. "I'm sure he probably told you that in such a way you believed it. He's very good at acting sincere because he's used that line on so many girls before and it always works for him."

"So I'm just a fool?"

"We all are. Heartbreak is a rite of pa.s.sage."

Carolyn wiped her eyes. "Are you afraid Mike will break your heart?"

"Every day. But I love him every day anyway. Maybe Carson will come to his senses."

Maybe Martians will land on top of Devil's Tower.

She snapped out of the memory when she realized she'd started to drift to the center line of the road.

Much like she had last night.

The church service was packed. Several people her mother's age smiled at her as she slid into the fourth-to-last pew. She lifted out the hymnal and flipped to the first hymn. She loved these songs. It connected her to the past, imagining a church full of people across the world singing these same hymns of praise a century or two ago.

The organ played the processional as the altar boys lit the candles. A figure paused at the edge of the pew before sliding in next to her.

Carolyn looked over...right into Carson McKay's blue eyes.

Her mouth dropped open and she bobbled the hymnal.

Carson steadied the book and softly asked, "Can we share this?"

She nodded. Numbly. Dumbly. Her mind wasn't on the music or antic.i.p.ating the inspirational bits she could take from this sermon to sustain her throughout her week, but got stuck on the cowboy sitting next to her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Carson's black hair looked damp. She caught a whiff of his aftershave. He'd donned a dark brown western-cut suit. Polished dress boots adorned his feet. And she knew the man was turning heads, even in church.

The music crescendoed, signaling the start of the hymn. Carson adjusted the hymnal and she noticed his bruised and scabbed knuckles.

Her head snapped up and she caught sight of his handsome face. Her insides knotted, seeing his swollen and cut lip, the gash by his eyebrow. Another slice on his cheek. He had a serious s.h.i.+ner around his right eye, and bruises on his jawline.

What had happened to him last night?

When she realized she was staring and not singing, she tried to focus on the hymn. But Carson once again distracted her, his voice a deep rumble as he sang quietly beside her.

The hymn ended and the liturgy was recited. He didn't need to read along as he seemed to have it memorized. He had no problem knowing when to kneel. He knew the prayers. His motions were automatic, as if he'd done it a hundred times before.

Why hadn't she known that Carson had been raised Catholic?

She knew so many other things, hot and sweet and s.e.xy things-please Lord forgive me for letting my mind wander to such carnal thoughts during church service, amen. But why hadn't she asked about his core beliefs? When her religious beliefs were such a large part of who she was?

Because you gave up your virginity to him within a week of meeting him. He probably thinks you don't have those core beliefs. Actions speak louder than words, remember?

Carson s.h.i.+fted to get to his billfold when the usher shoved the collection plate in front of him. She dropped a folded bill in the same time Carson did and their fingers brushed.

A jolt of awareness shot through her.

When Carolyn didn't jerk away, he considered that her approval to hold her hand.

How much of a pushover are you?

But she liked that he'd reached out to her-in more ways than one. Giving him the cold shoulder in church, where she'd learned to turn the other cheek, would make her a hypocrite.

The service ended and people started to get up.

She faced him.

His eyes were so somber.

"Carson, why are you here?"

"To ask for your forgiveness." He allowed a ghost of a smile before he winced in pain. "Figured I'd ask for G.o.d's too while I was at it."

"I didn't know you were Catholic."

"Baptized and confirmed in the Catholic Church in Sundance. Both my mom and Dad were Catholic. Mom made sure we went to church pretty near every week. After she died... Then we stopped goin'." His eyes searched hers. "We need to talk. You pick where that happens."

"Fine. It'll be somewhere isolated so I can yell at you without everyone thinking I'm a crazy person."

Another slight smile was there and gone. "I deserve every bit of whatever you dish out."

They waited to shake hands with the priest, a fairly young guy. Thoughtful and kind, he welcomed Carolyn as part of the congregation even when she only attended services a few times a year.

"Carolyn. I'm so happy to see you brought a guest today." He beamed at Carson and offered his hand. "I'm Father Dorian."

"Carson McKay."

"Are you from around here, Mr. McKay?"

"Sundance."

"Ah. I've filled in for Father Balough a few times at the St. Ignatius."

"I don't know him. Father Summerall was in charge last time I went."

"That's been a few years." He paused and Carson seemed to tense, as if waiting for Father Dorian's judgment on his poor church attendance. "Which means we're very happy to see you return to the fold. G.o.d's blessings on the day to both of you."

Carson kept his hand in the small of her back, steering her toward the door. He plucked his hat off the rack, settled it on his head and they stepped outside into the breezy summer morning.

"Father Dorian surprised me."

"Because he's so young?"

"No. Because he seems happy bein' a priest. I know from experience they're not all like that. Some of 'em are downright mean."

"I've had a few old-school priests at St. Mary's. But Father Dorian is just as wonderful as he appears to be. He comes out to the house to give my mother communion since she's unable to attend services."

He led her to his truck and opened the pa.s.senger door, a.s.sisting her up since her skirt restricted movement. Unlike last week, he didn't try and cop a feel or steal a kiss or make a suggestive comment.

He was acting very un-Carson like.

Then again, he hadn't acted like himself last night either, so it wasn't all bad.

They arrived at Founders Park, which hadn't been overrun with children yet. Again Carson was a gentleman, a.s.sisting her down the sidewalk to a picnic table beneath several large oak trees.

Her mother used to bring her here with Thomas and Kimi. She'd watch them from the car, letting them run wild on the playground. Kimi was so little Carolyn wondered if she remembered that their mother used to do...motherly type things with them before the arthritis rendered her incapable of everything.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Caro?"

"Family stuff. What are you thinking about?"

Carson was by her side in an instant; his hands gently framed her face. "I'm thinkin' that I'm dyin' to kiss you. I'm thinkin' about what an a.s.s I was to you last night. I'm thinkin' I don't even know where to start makin' this up to you." He paused. "Or if you even want me to try."

Somehow she kept her eyes locked on his and said, "Try the truth."

"I wasn't with that woman last night."

"You had your arm around her."

"I know. But that's all I did and only when you could see it. I dropped it as soon as you were gone."

"Why?"

"To make you think I was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. That I'd just used you, I was done with you and I moved on to someone else."

Her stomach dropped to her toes and she tried to break free from his hold.

But he wouldn't let her go. "You need to hear me out. It's as hard for me to say as it is for you to hear."

"I doubt that."