“I came back to the truck. You were gone.”
I watch him for a second, really look at him. “You didn’t have but two beers last night. Why do you look as haggard as I feel? Did Matty wear you out or what?”
“No,” he says. His mouth quirks, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Matty wasn’t feeling well. I stayed longer than I’d planned. I’m sorry.”
I snort. “Yeah, I figured as much. Soon as she sent us to the pharmacy, I knew you weren’t getting out of there quick.”
He frowns. “Yeah, she was feeling pretty rough,” he says on a yawn. “I was surprised when I got back to the truck and you were gone. Thought maybe you had to take a leak, so I waited. Twenty minutes. Then I figured you might’ve started walking back toward Ironhorse. I drove the road twice. Didn’t see you.”
“Nope,” I say lightly. “Never made it that far.”
He looks at me sharply. “Where did you go?”
I shrug. “I must’ve wandered off to piss or something, like you said … ended up in the barn.”
“The barn?” he repeats.
I nod. “Passed out in the hay,” I add. “Woke up to an ice-cold shower, courtesy of Shelby Storm and a water hose.”
He stares at me for a beat, then breaks. Laughs, full and unrestrained.
“Oh man,” he says, shaking his head. “Yeah. I get the impression you aren’t Shelby’s favorite person.”
“I got the same impression. That’s what I don’t get,” I say. “We weren’t close back in the day, but I don’t remember ever doing anything to piss her off. We haven’t spoken in years. Can’t imagine what her beef is.”
Caison sobers, leaning back against his desk. “Eh, those Storm girls can be a little hotheaded. Tough as nails, stubborn as hell. But deep down? They’re all pretty fricking special.”
Spoken like a truly whipped man.
“More like fucking nuts,” I say.
“That’s my future sister-in-law you’re talking about.”
“Right. You know, as your best friend, I have to ask, what the fuck are you thinking, marrying into that family?”
He chuckles.
“I’m serious. Now, granted, Maitland is the sanest of the bunch, but that’s like saying she’s the calmest monkey in the circus.”
He flips me off just as Dad’s voice cuts down the aisle.
“Caison! Which one of these geldings do you think is gentle enough for a four-year-old?”
Ruby peers around Papa’s leg, hopeful.
Caison steps out of the office, and I follow. He meets Pop and Ruby in the aisle.
Bending to one knee, he extends his hand. “Well, hello, Miss Ruby. I’m Caison. It’s nice to meet you.”
She studies him thoughtfully. “Daddy said your name was Uncle Case.”
He smiles at her. “He did? Well, I’m happy to be your uncle Case.”
She takes his hand, then steps into him and wraps her arms around his neck. Caison places his big hand on the back of her head and hugs her warmly. Then he releases her and stands.
Quirking a brow, he looks down the aisle. “I think Aurora or Goose would be a good choice,” he says. “Both solid. But if I were you, I’d ask Giles.”
I stop short. “Giles?”
