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.
So their dad had taken over Carson and Carolyn’s trailer and this had become their home.
As he sat and stared through the dirty windshield, he remembered the day they’d moved in…
They’d left the boys with Cal and Kimi.
The back of his pickup was loaded down with boxes. Even after nine years of marriage, they didn’t have much stuff to move because they’d had no room for much besides the necessities in their cramped trailer. Carolyn hadn’t complained when her sister and both her sisters-in-law had actual houses; she’d just made do.
She wouldn’t have to make do any longer. If Carson had his way, she wouldn’t have to make do with less than what she deserved ever again.
After they’d pulled up, Carolyn hadn’t bounded out of the truck with the enthusiasm he expected. He glanced at her, sitting in the passenger’s seat, staring at the house with the oddest expression on her face. “Sugar, you okay?”
“I don’t know. There’s part of me that can’t fathom this enormous house is really ours now.”
Carson reached for her hand. “It is.” He kissed her fingertips. “So how about we go check it out?”
Carolyn managed a wobbly smile, as if she was trying not to cry. “Okay.”
They met at the start of the sidewalk and paused, reaching for each other’s hands at the same time. Side by side they walked up the wooden steps to the covered porch. He studied details with a keener eye now that he owned the place. The front door needed fixed; it definitely needed a coat of paint. As did all the wood trim around the windows. Probably Carolyn would like a screen door at the front of the house to catch the evening breeze, so that’d be first on his agenda.