12 Borrowing Trouble (15 page)

Ranch hands who had n
othing to do were dispensable.

Zane also
followed the rules, and didn’t make waves.  Dylan wasn’t blessed with that ability.  If he didn’t find trouble on his own, it always seemed to find him.  It had been that way his whole life.  He was better off getting back to the rodeo where the men were just as rough around the edges as he was.  The sooner the better.

If he only had himself to worry about
, that would be possible.  If not, he guessed he was screwed, because he wouldn’t have a job here soon, especially if Carrie Collins turned up pregnant, and he’d have a kid to support.  But if she wasn’t, he was out of here as soon as possible.

Walking into his room, he shut the door behind him then grabbed the amber bottle off of his nightstand and shook it.  No sound.  He held the bottle up to the light coming through the window and saw the bottle was empty.  He was out of pain pills. 

Wasn’t that just par for the course today? 

Dylan walked to the closet and yanked down a fresh pair of jeans, pulled a t-shirt from his dresser
and got dressed.  He stomped into his boots, then left his beer on the dresser as he headed out to find Terri.  His shoulder wasn’t really hurting too much right now, but he knew he’d never be able to sleep tonight if he didn’t have some help.

He found Joel in his office, who told him that Terri had already headed to the house.  He went out through the back door, unplugged the charging cord on a golf cart, th
en hopped in and headed to the house Terri and Joel had built by the creek.  He pulled to a stop at the front steps and got out.  Dylan heard a baby crying around the side of the house, and figured Terri was out there with Jayden.  He walked that way and stopped short when he rounded the corner.  There was Jayden kicking and squalling, as a petite blonde haired girl tried to get his legs into the harness of a kid’s tree swing. 

“Jayden, be still!” she said with frustration.  She held him around the waist and he squirmed like a night crawler on a hook.

Dylan looked around for Terri, and wondered what the hell she was thinking leaving her son out here with this child who evidently couldn’t take care of him.  He hustled over to them, and grabbed the baby from the little girl.  He put Jayden on his hip and shushed him, like that was going to do any good.  The kid screamed louder and hit him in the head with his tiny balled fists.  Dylan had no idea what the hell he was doing here either. 

The little blonde girl harrumphed then put her hands on her hips to stare up at him with angry green eyes.  “Give me my baby back!” she screamed then stomped her foot.

“Your baby?” Dylan said, flinching as Jayden landed a right hook on his chin.

“Yes, I’m babysitting!” she said tilting her chin up arrogantly.  “Give me my baby back!”

“Where’s Terri?” he growled holding Jayden tighter so he couldn’t land any more punches.  The kid should be a prizefighter when he grew up.  He was damn well suited to it.

“Miss Terri left me in charge—now
give me back my baby
!”  The last part of her demand was hissed through the gap in her clenched front teeth.

“Where is Terri?” he repeated slowly, trying to hold on to his temper, just as tight
ly as he was holding the squirming baby.  He lost his grip on Jayden and he slid down Dylan’s body.  Before he could catch his feet the toddler bent his knee and landed his tiny foot right in Dylan’s crotch like a sledgehammer.  Pain exploded through his body, all the blood drained from his head down to his balls, as he sank to his knees with tears burning his eyes. 

His arms loosened,
and the baby was snatched away.  Dylan grabbed his balls, as he flopped onto his side in the fetal position trying to breathe through the pain.  To breathe at all.  What he was doing was little more than wheezing.  He hurt that bad.

Then he heard laughter.  Feminine giggles that couldn’t be coming from anyone other than the little blonde girl.  She was laughing so hard, it sounded like she was bent over with it.  Jayden’s little gurgle turned into giggles too, then he was squealing. 
Dylan’s back was to them, thank God, because if he saw that, he’d probably say something that ten-year-old little girls definitely should not hear, much less babies.

“What’s so funny?” Terri asked with a chuckle. 

That was Dylan’s question exactly.  The baby started cooing, so Dylan figured she must’ve picked him up.  He rolled onto his back, bent his knees and threw his forearm over his eyes.

“Dylan why are you laying in the dirt?” she asked.

“Ask your son,” he wheezed.  “He kicked my ass.”

“Probably no more than you deserve,” Terri said, cooing at the baby again which produced a giggle.

Dylan laid there a moment more and gathered his senses  He huffed  a breath and sat up.  “I might need more pain pills than I came out here for.”

Terri’s eyes narrowed and she stopped bouncing Jayden on her hip.  “Is your shoulder hurting again?”

Heat crawled up Dylan’s neck.  He couldn’t lie to her.  “I thought it would help me sleep.”

“I have non-prescription sleep aids that I can give you.  I don’t dole out pain pills for that.  But we are going to put another ice pack on your shoulder.  Come in the house,” she said firmly, as she turned to walk to the back porch.
  The little blonde girl followed her, and as soon as he could breathe again, Dylan got to his feet and limped to the porch.

There was
just one more reason he didn’t have kids, didn’t want kids.  They were hell on wheels, and he just didn’t have the patience to deal with them.  He wondered who the little blonde girl with the attitude was, and what she was really doing here.  He knew Terri and Joel.  Those two were about the most overprotective parents who lived.  Terri wouldn’t have brought a girl that young out here to take care of her son.  Maybe she was a relative here for summer vacation, he thought, as he walked into the back door. 

That notion quickly fled when he heard Terri tell her, “That was your mommy on the phone.  She said she’ll be here to pick you up soon.
  She isn’t far away.”

“I want to stay here
and help you take care of Jayden.  It’s no fun at grandma’s house.  It’s boring,” she said, sticking out her lower lip.

“Maybe your mommy will bring you back to take riding lessons from Miss Rocky soon.”

Evidently her mother was a friend of Terri’s, he thought, as Terri waved him into a chair at the table.  Dylan took off his shirt, and sat down.  Terri put Jayden in his high chair and walked to the refrigerator.

“I’m scared of horses
.  They’re big and I’m little,” the girl said with a tremble in her voice.

Dylan looked over at her and snorted.  “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“My mommy said that too.  She’s little too, but she likes to ride horses.  I’m still scared.”  She walked over to the high chair and stuck out her finger.  Jayden’s face lit up and he grabbed it in his chubby fist then jerked her hand up, before slamming it down on the tray.  Yep, definitely a prize fighter.

“Your mother should teach you to ride then,” he said, as Terri stopped beside him to put ice packs and Ace bandages down on the table.
 

The little girl spooned
what looked to be apple sauce into the baby’s mouth.  Jayden swatted her hand and the sauce flew into his hair.  He patted his head and mashed it in real good, before grabbing a hunk of her hair.  “Ouch, Jayden.  That hurts!” she squealed. 

Terri spun around, gasped then went to the high chair to free the girl.  “My
God, Jayden you wear more of your food than you eat!  It doesn’t work unless you get it in your mouth,” she said with a laugh as she grabbed a dishtowel to clean him up.  “Dylan can you wait a few minutes while I go give him a bath and put him to bed?”

“Sure,” he said
, with a huffed breath.  The last thing he wanted was to hang out here, but it looked like if he wanted his shoulder wrapped, and the sleeping pills, he’d have to wait.  Motherhood came first.

“Thanks.  I won’t be but a minute,”
Terri said, pulling out the tray and lifting Jaden.  Dylan watched her walk out of the kitchen, and thrummed his fingers on the table. 

A small hand dropped over his to hold them to the table.  “Stop doing that it drives me crazy.”

Dylan grunted and pulled his hand back.  “Well your bossiness drives me crazy.”

The girl’s
lower lip trembled, and her green eyes filled.  Dylan felt like a first class ass.  He was a first class ass.  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly.  Digging for something to distract her from bursting into tears, he said, “You’re scared of horses because they’re big.  Have you ever ridden a pony?”

Just that fast the clouds cleared from her eyes, and they widened.  “No, what’s the difference?”

“Ponies are more your size.  We have a few here on the ranch for smaller riders to learn how to ride.”

“Show me,” she said with excitement.

Dylan held back a groan.  “It’s getting dark.”

“It’s not dark yet.  Let me go tell Miss Terri!” she squealed and ran out of the room.

Not two minutes later she ran back in the room.  “She said I could!  When I get back I can read a story to Jayden.  Let’s go!” she grabbed his hand, and just like that, Dylan was roped into taking her to see the ponies. 

Just the thing he needed tonight, he thought, as he stood and shrugged back into his shirt.  He just wanted a beer and blessed sleep, but it looked like he was going to give this bossy little hellion a tour of the ranch.  “Grab a couple of apples out of that bowl on the breakfast bar.”

“Why?” she asked running over there to pick up two apples.

“Ponies like apples,” he explained flatly.

“I like apples too,” she said taking a big bite out of one, then smiling with it showing in her teeth.  Thank God.  Maybe her mouth would be too full to chatter all the way to the little barn.

“What’s your name anyway?” he asked as they walked outside .

“Izzy,” she replied, then slurped on the second bite of apple she’d just taken.

“Is that short for Isabelle?”

“Isabella.  But my mommy only calls me that when she’s mad at me,” she said with a giggle, before she sat in the passenger seat of the cart.

“Well, hold on Izzy.  I don’t want you bouncing out on your butt when we hit a bump.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, more respectfully than she’d been to him thus far.  She studied him a second as he drove across the yard.  “What’s your name?”  I heard Miss Terri call you Dylan.  Is that your name?”

“Yeah, Dylan is my name,” he said with a huffed breath.

“I like that name.  What are the ponies names we’re going to see?” she asked.

“I don’t know which ones are still out there, but they had Buster, Snowflake and San
cho last time I was out there.”

“Which one is the nicest?” she asked.

“Probably Snowy,” he replied, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel.

“Then she can be mine,” she said resolutely, crossing her arms.
  “I won’t ride her, but I’ll feed her apples and treats.”

Right then it became Dylan’s goal to get her on the back of that pony.   There was no reason in the world that a kid should be afraid of a horse, especially a kid-sized pony.  She just hadn’t been taught the pleasures of riding
, and he blamed her mother for that.  She knew how to ride, according to her daughter, and enjoyed it.

If he hadn’t found horses, animals, bucking bulls,
Dylan would have never found himself.  He’d have probably wound up in jail, or on the streets, because without the distraction animals provided, the foster homes he was in would have driven him to that. 

Thank
God for the junior rodeo program that saved him.

Kids needed distractions.  Especially kids in trouble like he was then.

CHAPTER TEN

Even after Ronnie got out of her small convertible in front of Terri’s house, Carrie sat there trying to catch her breath.  It felt like someone had punched her in the gut and she hadn’t been able to catch a decent breath since she’d seen her son in the cold, concrete room at the juvenile detention center.  Since she heard the charges that were pending against him.  Found out his probation had been revoked by the judge.  The no nonsense juvenile judge that even Ronnie thought they might have problems dealing with.

Trace hadn’t pressed charges for Chris stealing his truck and crashing it into a tree.  But the state had decided they were going to press charges for that, for evasion because he ran from the police, instead of stopping, and a weapons charge for the shotgun
which had been laying on the front seat. 

A cold chill raced through her body.  That shotgun could have gotten her teenage son killed if he’d been stupid enough to grab it, instead of getting out of the truck when the police told him to at gunpoint.
  And like she thought he would, Chris had clammed up when she tried to talk to him.  When the police tried to get an explanation out of him, he hadn’t said a word either.  Even Trace couldn’t drag it out of him. 

Why?  A fresh wave of tears overwhelmed her and she took a deep shuddering breath, as she pulled the handle to get out of the car.
  She had to get herself together, because the last thing she wanted to do was upset Izzy.  Leaving her son there at that detention center had been the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life.  If Izzy knew, she would probably never forgive her.  She had a feeling Chris would never forgive her either.  The only crack in his armor had come when she told him she wasn’t bailing him out.  The fear in his eyes right then was almost her undoing.

But he was going to tell her what caused him to do what he’d done, or he could sit in there until his trial
, and that’s what she had told him.

When she didn’t get out
of the car, just sat in the seat with her arms wrapped around herself, Ronnie grabbed the door and held it wider, then extended her hand to her.  “C’mon honey, you’ve got to get out.  We’ll work this out, I promise.”

Promise
.  That’s what Sean had done on the day they got married.  He promised to be with her forever. 
Until death do us part
.  And that had come a lot sooner than either of them expected.  Now she had to deal with the fallout of him putting himself in danger, courting death while trying to protect others, instead of thinking of her, of their family.  Anger at her dead husband burned in her soul.  He had left her with a mess.  This was all his fault. 

Carrie pushed up to her feet, and her knees wobbled.  She took a deep breath, and firmed up her shoulders.  She was alive and had to deal with this situation, protect her daughter.  “I’m fine,” she said, trying to convince herself more than Ronnie, as she walked toward the front porch.
  She hesitated at the door and took another deep breath.  Letting out slowly she twisted the knob and walked inside. 

Pasting on a smile, she yelled, “Terri, we’re back.  Where’s Izzy?”

Ronnie walked in behind her and shut the door.  Terri came out of the hallway to the right carrying Jayden, sleepy and fresh-faced in his little pajamas.  He rubbed his eyes and laid his head on her shoulder.  Carrie’s heart squeezed in her chest.  She wished her kids were still that age.  If they were, she wouldn’t be dealing with the problems she was now.

“She went out to the barn to see the ponies,” Terri said.  “I need to get Jayden in bed, I’ll be back in a second.

“Let’s sit on the sofa,” Ronnie said, wrapping her arm around Carrie’s shoulders to lead her over there. 

Carrie
sat down, and hugged herself, glad she had a few more minutes to nurse her guilt, her sorrow and grief, before she had to face her daughter.  From Sean’s funeral, she knew how it was done.  Hiding her feelings, burying them, so she could help her kids deal with their emotional trauma.  They came first, which is how Sean should have thought before he took those dangerous assignments.  He could have said no, but he had waded into them knee deep.

The front door opened, and her eyes swung there.  Izzy ran inside, her face flushed and excitement practically buzzing around her like a force field.  “Mom!  I rode a pony!” she squealed, her tennis shoes squeaking on the hardwood floor as she ran over to her.
 

A second later, the door opened wider, and Dylan stood in the doorway, wiping his boots on the door mat.  He looked up, their eyes met, and he stopped there, not moving.  His face paled, and his mouth opened like a flytrap.

“He taught me how to ride!” Izzy shouted, pointing at Dylan.  She ran back to the door and grabbed his hand to drag him toward the sofa.  “Dylan, come meet my mommy!”

Carrie groaned, and Dylan’s breath came out in a whoosh as he stopped beside the sofa.  Neither spoke for a second, and Carrie could feel Ronnie’s eyes burning the side of her face.  Izzy elbowed Dylan in the gut.  “Say hello, you’re being rude,” she said gruffly staring up at him with
angry eyes.  Her body stilled, her face fell then her head spun back toward Carrie.  “Where’s Chris?” she asked with a wobble in her voice.  “I want to show him the ponies.  Dylan will probably teach him to ride too, won’t you?” she asked tugging on his shirt sleeve.

Emotion built in her chest until Carrie couldn’t breathe.  She put a hand there, and dragged her eyes to the side and suck
ed in a deep breath.  Carrie needed to be sick, a woman could only take so much.  She shoved up from the sofa and took off toward the hallway where Terri had disappeared.  The bathroom had to be down there, she thought, as she felt blindly along the dark walls, trying each door until she found it.  Flinging the door open, she ran inside and slammed it behind her.  Her knees gave out just short of the toilet, so she crawled the rest of the way there, then clutched her stomach while she dry heaved.

When she figured out she wasn’t going to throw up, she sank back on her heels, then sat on the floor holding her knees while sobs wracked her.  Her whole body vibrated with them.  The bathroom door opened and shut, then she heard the knob jiggle.  Warmth
and a familiar, comforting scent surrounded her, then a hand pushed her hair back.

“What’s wrong, Carrie?”  Dylan’s deep voice soothed her, and it shouldn’t.  He shouldn’t even be in here. This was not his problem.  She wasn’t his problem. 

“Just leave me alone.” 

She felt him sit beside her, then before she knew what was happening, he dragged her onto his lap, and his arms closed around her like steel bands.  “Tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.  If it’s what happened today, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have gone out there with you.”

“I shouldn’t have gone out there with you,” she countered shortly.  “I can’t talk about that right now.  Just leave.”

“What happened with your son?” he asked, and she could hear the resignation, reluctance in his voice.  “And why the hell didn’t you tell me you had two kids?”
  Carrie wiggled against his hold, trying to get away from him.  “Talk to me, dammit,” he growled, his arms tightening more.

Knocking started at the bathroom door, and the knob jiggled.  There was a loud frustrated sigh outside, then Terri said, “Open the door, Carrie.”

“I’ve got this, Terri,” Dylan shouted gruffly.  “Give us a few minutes!”

“I’ve got to take care of Izzy,” Carrie said, her heart raw and bleeding.  “She’s going to be upset.  I can’t let her know I’m upset.”

“Everyone gets upset now and again, even mothers.  Kids will feel better if they know what’s bothering you.”

“When did you become an expert on child-rearing?” Carrie asked with frustration.

There was a long silence, then he huffed out a breath.  “Since I was one, and had a mother who hid her feelings from me.  Things might not have turned out like they did if she would’ve bothered to talk to us.  Now tell me what the hell is wrong with you!”

“My son is in big trouble.  I can’t help him,” she sobbed into his shirt front.  She could barely find the breath to finish her statement.  “He won’t let me help him.”
 

Admitting that caused a ripple of
fear to move through her body.  Dylan’s arms tightened around her and he kissed her hair.  Carrie didn’t want to admit it felt damned good, but it did.  At this moment, she wasn’t alone.  But leaning on him wasn’t fair.  This man didn’t have children, was single and freewheeling.  He told her he wasn’t looking for permanent, and she didn’t expect him to get involved in her problems. 

She barely knew him, had one afternoon of
stupid and irresponsible, fantastic, mind-blowing sex with him.  That wasn’t something she was going to think about right now either.  She couldn’t.  If things didn’t turn out well with that judge, she could very well lose her son.  “The best thing you can do is just stay out of this.  It’s not your business.  I’ll work it out,” she said in a trembling voice as she tried to sit up. 

He held her tightly against him, banged his head against the tile wall behind him a few times
, then sighed.  “And the best thing you can do is tell me what happened, because if you don’t we’ll be sitting here all night.”  His voice was resolute, determined.

Carrie just sat still a moment gathering her thoughts, deciding if she would tell him, and Dylan just held her, his hot breath dancing over her scalp.  Waiting, just like he said he would.  She needed to get out there and check on Izzy.  Figure out what she was going to tell her. 

“Chris was already on probation for drugs.  He stole the truck of the man he was staying with.  There was a shotgun on the seat when he ran the truck into a tree, r-r-un-ning fr-from the p-police.” She had to squeeze the last bit out past the lump that closed off her throat.  The tears she’d been holding back spilled over her lower lids and tracked down her face.

Carrie expected Dylan to shove her out of his lap, but instead he hugged her tightly, rocking her, soothing her.  When her sobs stopped, his arms loosened and he pushed her back from him.  “Let me talk to him,” h
is deep voice rumbled between them.

Shocked to the core of her being, a surprised laugh floated out of her.  “Chris is the
stubbornest child you’ll ever meet.  He’s not going to talk to you, if he wouldn’t talk to me.  To Trace, who he thinks of like an uncle.  Why would you think he’d talk to you?”

“Because I was him at thirteen years old.”

“Um, I don’t think so,” she said shaking her head.

“Oh yeah.  He only thinks he’s a badass.  I was the trouble he never wanted to meet in a dark alley.
  But if you don’t stop him now, he will catch up.”

Carrie looked at his handsome face, inspected it, expecting to see laughter in his eyes.  What she saw was fierceness.  Seriousness.  “
Why would you want to get involved in this mess?”

“Because I want to help him, like my last set of foster parents helped me.  Pay it forward.”

Carrie gasped.  “You were in foster care?”

“From the time I was fourteen to eighteen
, when I wasn’t in juvenile hall.  Trust me, he doesn’t want to go there.  As bossy as she is, I’m sure he loves his little sister and doesn’t want to lose touch with her…with you.”

“Oh, my
God…” Carrie said in a strangled whisper.  She leaned in to put her arms around his neck.  “I’m so sorry, Dylan.”

She watched his Adam’s apple bob.  “I survived,” he said gruffly.  “I’d like to help though, if you’
ll let me.  He has a helluva lot more going for him, if he has a sane mother who loves him.”

“I’m not so sure about the sane part anymore,” she said quietly into his shoulder.

His arms tightened around her, and he growled, “Tie the knot and hang on, Carrie.  He needs you.”  Carrie heard the emotion in his words, felt it in the tenseness in his body.

“I’m not going anyw
here, and I’m not giving up.”

“Good.  Now, let’s get going,” he said pushing her away from him.  He slid her off his lap and stood to hold his hand out to her.

“You want to go back there now?” she said putting her hand in his.  “It’s late and Izzy—“

“Izzy will be fine here with Terri
,” he said pulling her to him for a hug.  “We need to go to talk to him now.  Get him the hell out of that place.”

Carrie felt a tremor move through him.  “I told him I wasn’t bailing him out this time.”

“That is the absolute worst thing you could do,” he growled.

“Why?”

“Because he is in the perfect place to perfect his tough guy act, to take tips from the other delinquents in there.  He needs structure and a purpose.  Distraction.”

“And what do you think that would be?” Carrie asked with a roll of her eyes.  “If the hanging judge who has his case has his way, he’ll be there permanently.  What he did was serious.”

“Nah,” Dylan said with a laugh.  “It’s serious, but if he goes back in and can show some progress toward being redeemed, he’ll probably get community service.  I know a place he can get some counseling, and I’m going to help get him into rodeo.”

Carrie’s heart fell.  “I can’t afford anymore bills.  My insurance only covers fifty-percent of mental health counseling.  He was in counseling for a year after Sean died, and it didn’t help.”