He took both of her hands in his. “Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry the ranch is so busy right now.”
“This is why we have the year,” she said. “So I can see what life is like in the spring, the summer, the fall, the winter, on a ranch.”
“The fall is hectic,” he muttered, dropping his head again. Now his hands held still, holding hers, the mix of their skin tones and textures so different and yet fitting together so beautifully.
“You wanna come in and have an ice cream sandwich?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “That is exactly what I want.”
He got to his feet and offered Caroline his hand. Their eyes met, and Dawson pulled her closer. She sort of stumbled into his arms, and Dawson breathed in the scent of her hair, her skin, her very being.
“I love that you came up here tonight,” he said. “I love that you came even though you didn’t know what to say, and Iadorethat you made room for me tonight.”
Caroline nodded, her eyes full of intensity that slowly faded.
“I don’t need you to change completely for me,” hewhispered as he leaned forward and touched his cheek to hers. “That’s the last thing I want, actually. If you feel like you need to change, then do it for you, darlin’, okay? Not for me.”
He pulled back and looked into her eyes again. “If you do it for me, you’ll end up resenting me the way you do Joe. It has to be for you.”
“It is for me,” she said. “I heard the pastor, and her words penetrated right into my heart. I do need to rely on the Lord more, and I know that. I don’t have to be the strong one all the time.”
Dawson pushed her hair back off her face, and she sighed as her eyes drifted closed. He smiled at her, her softness infusing into his heart. And he knew in that moment that he loved her.
She opened her eyes and looked at him again. “I’ve never cried in front of a man,” she said. “And tonight, I did, and you didn’t scorn me or look at me in disgust, and I…feel like I gave some of my pride to God, and it felt real nice.”
“I’m glad,” Dawson said.
“I’m not changing for you, Dawson,” she said. “I’m not.” She shook her head. “I’m changing so I can be the woman who gets to be an ‘us’ with you.” She smiled then, and she leaned into his chest in a way that made him feel strong and sexy and wanted and desirable. “Will you kiss me? I just want to know we’re okay for now.”
“I can do that, darlin’.” And he could, and he did, because kissing Caroline was life-changing every single time. And in fact, this time, as Dawson kissed Caroline, he definitely sensed something different in her touch. In her. Between them.
It could’ve been a change inside him, because she reformed him with every breath he took. Or it could’ve been a change in her, but Dawson definitely felt the shift between them. He felt like they were together, and that they could absolutely become the “we” and the “us” he’d always wanted to be part of.
She pulled away first, and said, “All right, now I want ice cream and to see the plans for our river cruise.”
Dawson took her face in his hands and gazed at her for just another couple of moments. He grinned, glad when she did too, and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Henry re-entered his apartment at the farrier academy, thinking and hoping and praying it would be for the last time. “That’s it,” he said to his older brother, who turned from the window. They both scanned the bedroom that had been emptied of anything personal.
Paul smiled at him, and he seemed happier than Henry had seen him in a while. Probably because of his new girlfriend, who he hadn’t brought along today but whom Henry would meet this weekend, when he came back to Three Rivers to get a few things from the house where he’d grown up.
For he had a new home at Lone Star Ranch, and he had enough room to store more than he had here, in this tiny bedroom in a tiny apartment he’d shared with three other farrier students for the past couple of years.
“Ready?” Paul asked as he clapped a hand on Henry’s shoulder.
Henry took a deep breath, his nerves marching like fire ants through his body. “I guess I have to be, right?”
Paul sobered slightly. “You’re going to be amazing at Lone Star,” he said. “Remember how they had to fight off the other stables and farms to get you? And they only chose one man—the best man—and that was you.”
His brother had always been extraordinarily good at building him up, and that was only one reason Henry had to kneel down at night and beg God for forgiveness, because he sometimes had bitter and resentful feelings toward Paul.
Perfect Paul, who walked in their daddy’s footsteps and would take over Courage Reins when Daddy retired. Who never strayed too far from home, or from the straight and narrow path of his religion, or from doing and being just so…good.
Henry felt like the warped, deformed, discarded version of Paul, though his parents loved and believed in him. He intellectually knew they did, but sometimes his rebellious streak and his loud laughter told him that he didn’t really belong with them. That they didn’t really want him around.
“All right,” Daddy drawled, and Henry turned toward him. “We’ve got everything, yeah? Let’s hit the road.” He never was one to waste much time, and Henry had inherited that from his father.
