Cowboy Take Me Away Part 68

"Right now?"

"You busy doin' something else?"

Why was she tossing his words from yesterday afternoon at him? "No."

"Good. I'll just grab my purse and lock the front door and we'll hit the road."

"But..."

She whirled on him. "But what? Isn't this the appeal of having a camper? We can just take off whenever the mood strikes us?"

"Yeah, but sugar, we don't have any food or supplies."

She flapped her hand at him. "Minor details."

Maybe she planned to stop at the grocery store on the way to the lake.

But she insisted they check into the campground to secure a good spot. Once they'd paid the fees and parked, everyone was hungry and there wasn't so much as a breath mint in the camper to feed four hungry boys and two adults. So they trekked to the marina convenience store and bought thirty bucks worth of food.

They roasted hot dogs and marshmallows over the campfire. The kids ate every bit of it.

When bedtime rolled around, Carolyn insisted he sleep with the boys in the bunk; she worried one of them would fall off in the middle of the night. She and Austin took the bedroom and they all slept in their clothes since no one had remembered to bring pajamas.

The next morning Carson returned to the marina convenience store and bought thirty bucks worth of donuts, milk and juice, which the boys devoured in one sitting. Since Carolyn didn't swim, she kept Austin in the camper with her.

The boys had brought swimming trunks, but no towels, so after they'd exited the water they'd had to dry off in the sun. Upon returning to the camper, once again the boys were starved.

Instead of traipsing back to the overpriced convenience store, Carson pulled up stakes and they drove into town for lunch. When neither their grandsons nor Carolyn seemed too keen on camping another night, they dropped the boys off and headed home.

Home. It was a pretty nice place to be. After polishing off a half a dozen cookies, Carson plopped in his easy chair to watch TV.

So the camping experiment hadn't gone too well the first time. Next time they'd be more prepared. He'd drifted into a mental road map of the places he'd like to visit when Carolyn s.n.a.t.c.hed the remote out of his hand.

He looked up to see her planted in front of him, wearing her p.i.s.sed-off face.

"How long have we been married?"

He opened his mouth to answer and she cut him off.

"In all those years have I ever told you it was my fondest dream to own an RV and travel the country?"

s.h.i.t.

"No, I haven't. You know why? Because that is my idea of h.e.l.l. That is the single most asinine thing you've ever..." She made a huffing noise and leaned forward to jab her finger into his chest. "You don't cook, so who would be responsible for all the meals? Me. You don't clean, so who would be responsible for keeping the camper tidy? Me. You don't grocery shop, so who would be responsible for stocking the camper pantry? Me. How is that a f.u.c.king vacation for me, Carson McKay? It isn't. And it makes me think that you don't know me at all if you believe I'd want that nomadic life. Our life is here. Not with strangers at some senior citizens RV park playing bridge and comparing pictures of our grandkids. How the h.e.l.l much did that camper cost?" She jabbed him in the chest again. "For that kind of money, we could fly wherever we wanted. We could stay at a five star hotel. We could eat at a different restaurant every night and still have money left over to do it again...ten or fifteen more times! That is a vacation. Dragging the whole d.a.m.n house with us so I can cook and clean in an itty bitty s.p.a.ce while you watch satellite TV in your plush captain's chair ain't gonna happen. Ever."

She stood and placed her hands on her hips. "Monday morning you will return that camper to the dealer. Tell them you changed your mind."

His mouth dropped open. "Do you know how much money we'll lose if I do that?"

"Do you know how much more money you'll lose if I divorce your stupid a.s.s for expecting that's how I'd spend my retirement?"

Holy s.h.i.t. She wasn't serious...was she? "Caro-"

She drilled that sharp index finger into his chest, punctuating every word. "I. Am. Not. Kidding. Me or the camper, Carson McKay. You choose."

After the camper was gone, they never spoke of it again.

Chapter Thirty.

Hospital, Day 7-morning Carson had overslept, and the nurses hadn't woken him so he'd missed three visits with Carolyn. By the time his visitation window arrived and he'd dragged himself into her room, he was a wreck.

"Hey sugar. I'm sittin' here beside you. I know you can hear me. I need you to hear me. Come back to me. I need you to know that I'm right here, I ain't goin' anywhere.

"I've tried to stay so positive every time I'm in here. But the closer it gets to them pullin' you out of this, the more I worry that you'll wake up in pain." He studied the rise and fall of her chest. "Every time you brought a child into this world, I hated the pain it caused you. Even when you swore it was worth it in the end, I wanted to shoulder that burden."

In his mind-maybe his crazy mind?-he heard her soft, I know that.

His phantom conversation with her seemed so much harder on the seventh day. He'd happily relived a lifetime of memories in the last six days. Why was he struggling now?

Because you've wanted it to be over and it almost is. And you're scared to find out what happens next.

So he kept babbling. "You've been so healthy over the years. You wouldn't get so much as a sniffle when it seemed at least one of the kids was always sick. Your blood pressure is good, so's your cholesterol. You didn't smoke, you didn't drink to excess. How's it fair that you're in here now..." It should be me in that hospital bed. I should've been exercising my own d.a.m.n horse. I asked too much of you. I always have.

Stop with the guilt, Carson.

He really was losing it because he swore she'd whispered that in his ear.

Get it together.

Carson traced every bone in her hand. "I remember how worried you were that you'd inherited your mom's arthritis. I'd catch you starin' at your hands every once in a while, wondering if they'd turn on you like hers had. If you'd become frail like her. But again, you dodged that bullet. You are the strongest person I know, Caro."

Her sweet voice saying, I know that too, sweetheart, floated through him and his flesh became a ma.s.s of goose b.u.mps.

Carson felt her. This time he knew she was listening to him.

"I was so d.a.m.n disoriented when I woke up after surgery. Didn't remember nothin' about before. Nothin' during."

"Mr. McKay?" the nurse said from the doorway. "Time's up."

No. Don't make me leave her.

And for the first time in six days, Carson ignored the nurse and he kept on talking. "I don't want that for you, not remembering. In the past seven days I've remembered so much."

"Mr. McKay. You need to leave now."

"I gotta go. But I'll be here next hour. And the hour after that. And every hour until you open them pretty blue eyes and look at me. I love you, sugar. I can't live without you. Come back to me. Please."

After Carson ditched the protective suit, he told the nurses he was heading down to the cafeteria. But once he saw the long line, he cut out the side door and stepped into the sunshine.

Another hot, dry day. Be nice if they'd get some rain.

Typical rancher; weather is always the first topic of conversation.

Apparently that held true even when he talked to himself.

He meandered to his truck and snagged the pack of cigarettes and book of matches. After firing up a smoke, he dropped the tailgate, forcing himself to ease into a sitting position.

That'd been the hardest thing after his surgery, the lists of do's and don'ts. Even a movement as simple as crossing his legs wasn't allowed because of the pressure it'd put on the joint.

Now he could admit the surgery two months ago had helped. Every day had been a struggle before that...

Rain, shine, hot, cold, staying stationary or keeping active, nothing mattered.

The pain in his hip was getting worse.

And it was d.a.m.n near excruciating when he was on horseback.

It wasn't his horse's fault that he'd become a crippled up old man. It wouldn't be so bad if the only time he was in pain was when he mounted and dismounted. But even a slow ride put him in agony. In trying to adjust his seat, he put extra pressure on his knee, which made that ache.

Getting old wasn't for p.u.s.s.ies.

Carson managed to stay on for an hour, taking in the beauty of the early spring morning. The weather had been great this year for calving-no brutally cold temps and blizzard conditions that stretched out for weeks. He'd helped Colt with the midnight cattle check. But riding on the four-wheeler had caused pain-and Colt had noticed. Carson jokingly explained it as the cold settling in his brittle bones.

He'd been riding as long as he could remember-climbing on horseback had been a daily part of his life. But lately he'd only been able to ride once a week. His sons a.s.sumed he didn't ride much anymore because he'd retired.

His wife suspected something was up, but in typical Carolyn fashion, she hadn't said anything-yet.

He kept Sheridan at a canter as they headed for the barn. He was surprised to see Carolyn waiting by the fence for him.

s.h.i.t. He'd have to dismount in front of her. Or...maybe he could pretend he'd just swung by to see if she needed something before he continued his ride. He plastered on a grin. "Hey, sugar. What's goin' on?"

"Just getting some air. Wondered what you were up to. You've been out here a while."

"Enjoying the beautiful mornin'. Was there something you needed?"

"Actually, yes. I'm having a devil of the time with the back door to the kitchen sticking again."

"I'll take a look at it after I'm done with my ride."

"I thought you were done since I saw you heading toward the barn?"

"Nope. Saw you standing there, pretty as a picture and came over to say hey."

Her eyes turned shrewd. "Carson McKay, you are such a liar. Get off that horse right now."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Feelin' a mite bossy this mornin'?"

"Don't pretend this has anything to do with me. I want to see you get off your horse."

"Caro-"

"I mean it. Then as soon as you dismount I want you to mount me." She paused and challenged, "But that seems to be a problem for you too, lately, doesn't it?"

"What are you-?"

"You haven't touched me for two months. Two months. The last time we went that long was after one of my pregnancies. So start explaining why you're suddenly acting like making love to me is repulsive."

That's what she thought?

Of course she would think that.

"Sugar, that ain't even close to the truth."

Her gaze narrowed further. "Are you gonna try and pa.s.s this problem off as you need v.i.a.g.r.a because you can't get it up and that's why we haven't had s.e.x, let alone even been sleeping close together at night?"

Dammit. He knew she wouldn't buy that either. The woman saw too much for her own good and she never made a move until she was sure. So he had no idea how long she'd been lying in wait to jump him about this so he glared at her.

"Huh-uh, cowboy. That squinty eyed stare won't work on me."

Carson snorted. "When has it ever worked on you?"

"Sweetheart. You don't have to glare at me to scare me. Why you're trying to hide the pain from me makes my fears ten times worse. Please. Tell me what's going on."

"Fine. You wanna see?" Embarra.s.sed, because yeah, maybe he'd rather she thought he needed chemicals to get his d.i.c.k hard rather than the truth; that he wasn't the agile man who could out-rope and out-ride everyone that he used to be.

Holding onto the saddle horn, he shifted his weight forward. Then he threw his right leg over the back of the horse, trying like h.e.l.l to balance on his left side, knowing the instant his right foot touched the dirt would be the moment of agony and there was no way he could hide it from her.

His right boot heel hit the ground. Even with his left foot in the stirrup, he almost fell on his a.s.s. The shooting pain was instantaneous. His vision went wonky even after he'd placed both feet on the dirt. He rested his forehead in the curve of his saddle.

Sheridan stayed still as Carson regained his balance. Sometimes the grinding fire in his joint forced him to double over and spew out every curse word he'd ever heard-if the torture hadn't caused him to stop breathing entirely.

The gate clanged behind him. Then Carolyn wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. "It's okay. I'm here. Please let me help you."

He breathed through the pain and held onto the reins when Sheridan tried to shift sideways. "Steady, girl."

"I'm sorry. But I've been worried and you won't tell me what's going on-"

"Sugar, I was talkin' to my horse."

"Oh." She laughed. "Of course you were."