Stables (Black Gulch Ranch #2)

17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Dixon

I don’t know how I slept being able to hear her soft voice drifting through the door of her room only a few feet away.

Fitfully.

My Wranglers are shit as pajamas, but safer than having another wardrobe malfunction.

Char’s just getting to where she doesn’t blush and glance at my crotch, I don’t want to backpedal on that improvement.

I will admit, the couch is a lot more comfortable than my truck camper.

The next best thing to being in her bed. But I’ll give it time.

It’s odd, I don’t really want to go to work. Last night was surprising in how natural it felt to have a simple dinner with her and Paisley.

Better than the finest restaurant filled with bustling waitstaff and pushy customers.

“Doc? What’s got you so distracted?” Maggie stands at the door of my office, idly waving a patient’s chart at me.

“Huh?” I don’t want to admit she’s right. “Oh, just mulling over these labs.”

All I can think about is Char and Paisley being alone.

“You mean this one?” Maggie hands me a slip of paper covered in the blood results I’d requested.

My jaw clenches. “Yea, thank you.”

Fuck, I need to focus.

She squints at me before tossing the manilla envelope down. “When you get done there, this one’s next. Don’t worry, it’s almost quitting time.”

I give her a curt nod.

I need to get the hell out of here. I’m no good to anyone if I’m not paying attention.

But who knows how long I’ll be in this pattern? Matt will likely be a long term threat, unless I get a hold of him again.

Squeezing my fist against my thigh doesn’t get rid of the nagging ache to get back to Char.

Maybe I need to bring her here with me?

I glance around the eight by ten closet that I call a work space.

No, what the hell would they do here besides go absolutely stir crazy?

Damn it all.

After seeing the last patient of the day, I can’t pack up fast enough.

“See you tomorrow, Dr. McCullough,” Maggie calls after me as I stride from the ER.

I’m pretty sure I only grunt as a response.

There’s this gnawing in my gut the entire drive that becomes a stabbing pain when I pull in her driveway and don’t see Libby’s truck in the yard.

Flying out of the driver’s seat, I skip completely over the steps to leap onto the front porch, pushing through the door.

“Char? Are you okay?” Panic threatens to work its way into my voice.

My heart beats in my ears as I strain to listen to the silence that greets me.

Fuck. What did Matt do?

Dust lazes through the fading beams of sun that spray across the back of the flowered couch.

“Char? Paisley?” It’s only two steps into the empty kitchen.

Five more to pass Paisley’s dark room and make it to Char’s.

The neatly made comforter screams in loneliness as I stare at it.

I don’t see any sign of a struggle, but it doesn’t prove anything.

Pain lances through me and squeezes my chest.

Barn.

Please be there.

My scrubs bind my thighs when I run, but it just spurs me faster.

It’s only when I hear Paisley giggle that I slow down.

“Char?” Do I sound upset? I don’t want to scare her.

“Back here!” A hint of laughter tinges her yell.

By the time I’ve dropped to a walk, I have my breathing under control and my pulse has leveled.

I haven’t felt like that since Sophia and Mason’s wife were kidnapped last fall.

When I move through the gate and around the corner, whatever heartbeat I have comes to a dead stop.

Char is sitting astride a light roan mare with Paisley in front of her on the saddle.

She’s also wearing the tiniest bright red shorts and snug little blue t-shirt I’ve ever seen.

It’s fucking criminal how much blood leaves my head and surges into my crotch. These are the wrong damn pants for that.

Forcing myself to stare only at the horse, I try to inhale through my nose and let out a long exhale.

“Libby left?” Just keep looking at the bridle.

Not Char’s supple calves or toned thighs.

“Just a few minutes ago. I told her if he showed up between then and now, Whiskey here would outrun him.” Char leans over her daughter to pat the neck of her meandering ride.

“Whiskey looks a lot like my niece’s horse, Misty. Are they related?” All I want to do is let my eyes travel Char’s body, from where her shirt reveals the skin of her hips to the swell of her breast puckering the fabric.

Her brows furrow and she rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Who’s your niece?”

“Sophia McCullough.”

A broad grin spreads quickly across her face. “Oh! I love her! How is she doing? I hope Misty is performing for her?” She leads Whiskey close enough that I can reach out and hold the rein closest to me.

Flipping her leg over the wide saddle in a practiced motion, she hops down.

Jesus, the bouncing of her chest when she lands makes my palms burn to touch her.

She barely stands level with the back of the fourteen hand roan as she reaches up towards Paisley.

“Well, Sophia broke her leg last summer, but she said Misty hasn’t skipped a beat since she’s been back on her.”

“No! My gosh, did Misty do that? These two are sisters, I’m training Whiskey like I did Misty, but that’s a scary thought!” Char pauses with her palms wrapped around Paisley’s calf to look at me.

I resist the urge to touch her shoulder. “Misty did everything she was supposed to. Sophia will tell you herself she’s the one who made the error. I’m pretty sure that horse is going to take her to the championship.”

Tears well in the corners of her eyes.

What the hell? Did I say something wrong?

“That would be so incredible! I wonder if she’d let me add that to my farm creds?” She excitedly jumps on her toes.

Please, don’t ever stop bouncing, but just this once…I can’t take much more.

“I’m sure she’d be thrilled.” My mustache twitches watching her.

The urge to reach out and tug her to me is getting harder to resist.

“I’d love to see her in action. Whiskey has a ways to go, we’re still working on learning the patterns.” She finally pulls Paisley down, who promptly takes off in a staggering run towards the trough nearby and reaches her hands in to splash.

“Well, I’d be happy to take you to the next rodeo, if you try not to let Libby leave early. Or at least text me that she had to run.” I try not to glower.

But fuck, I was unsettled when I came back to an empty house. More than I thought I’d be.

Char falls into step next to me while I lead the horse, a smile dancing over her lips. “I knew you’d be home soon. Besides, it felt good to ride again. It’s been a few days.”

If she’s feeling better, I have something she can ride. There’s a solid chance she’ll be walking funny for a while afterwards, though.

I shake my head. “You shouldn’t be alone.” Moving into the shadow of the barn, I flip the leather straps over the fence rail.

“Paisley, your mommy needs a spanking,” I growl. When I glance sideways, I can see the pink tinging Char’s cheeks.

Her mouth opens and closes before that full bottom lip folds between her teeth.

Paisley squats in the dirt and runs her wet hands through it, painting up to her wrists with mud. “No, no, Mommy,” she chants without looking up.

“See, she agrees.” I busy myself with stripping the saddle off of Whiskey so I don’t have to watch the color blossoming over Char’s throat.

Or see her chest heaving as she fights down the giggles that escape, even as she bites harder to tamp them down.

She’s torturing me.

“I’ll make sure to let you know from now on.” Char grabs the blanket from the sweaty mare and drapes it over a rod near the tack room.

“Good girl,” I say quietly.

But when she stumbles with the brush in her grip, I know she heard me.

“Is Libby still planning on being here tomorrow?” I need to change the subject before I let myself get out of hand.

“Um, I think so. She was going to let me know tonight.” Char tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and begins making long strokes down her horse’s sweaty flanks. “I hope she can, she helped me tack Whiskey and lift Paisley up. I don’t think I’m quite there yet by myself.”

“Uppie.” Paisley, as if she’s been summoned, stands near my knee and holds her dirty palms towards me.

“She likes you.” Char smiles softly as she finishes.

I can feel the slime of mud being smeared across my neck as Paisley buries against my shoulder.

Strangely, it doesn’t bother me.

It never did when Sophia or Sawyer did when they were little, either.

Other people’s kids? No way.

Char leads Whiskey towards the gate leading to the pasture, then strips the bridle off before letting her go. “She did awesome today.”

When she finds a place near me walking back towards the house, I’m tempted to reach my arm around her shoulders and pull her close.

But settle for toting a snuggly toddler in the meantime.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be hungry, so I made a salad for dinner.” Char twists mid-step to look up at me. “Do you usually eat at the hospital?”

“I live on protein bars and iced tea, the food there is atrocious.” I give her a lopsided grin and hold the front door open for her.

Paisley is almost asleep before I step into the cool interior of the house.

“Where do you want me to put her?” I could probably hold her all night, she’s so tiny.

Maybe it’s safer if I do. Keeps me occupied and distracted from Char.

“Um, maybe her crib. We’ll contain the mess until she gets a bath.” She leads me towards the dark room and flips on the light.

Seeing it for the first time, there’s also a rocking chair and a small dresser, but otherwise fairly empty.

I bet two sets of bunk beds would fit in here easily, if she has more kids.

Why does that make my cock twitch in my scrubs?

Two boys and another girl. That sounds like a nice amount.

Fuck me and my intrusive thoughts.

Paisley throws out her arms and rolls one leg over the other, but doesn’t wake up after I gently place her onto her mattress.

“You’re a pro,” Char whispers.

“My sister-in-law had complications after the twins were born. Mason made me help for a while. Muscle memory.” I shrug and follow her back to the kitchen.

“I’d say Paisley left her mark on you.” Char smiles and wets a washcloth in the sink before handing it to me.

“Thanks.” I blindly wipe beneath my jaw and neck, hoping I’m getting the brunt of the mud off.

She leans against the counter, biting her lip and making small noises as she points to different places along my throat.

“Did I get it all?” Raising my chin, I tilt my head to the side for her to inspect.

“Um, let me see that.” She holds out her palm where I drop the damp cloth.

It seems to have gotten hotter.

With a tentative, gentle touch, she stands on her tiptoes and strokes the corner down over my Adam’s apple.

Then again.

Each time, fire races through my body in a building inferno.

I want her to keep going, trace my chest, move her palm lower.

But when I feel the brush of her skin against the hollow of my throat, I find myself wrapping my fingers around her wrist to stop her.

Not yet.

I can’t.

She isn’t ready for me.

“Thank you,” I choke out hoarsely, then step back.

I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold myself together.

The corner of her mouth falls beneath her flushed cheeks. “Oh. Um, sure.” She turns quickly, rinsing out the dirty rag.

Shit. I hate that she must think I’ve rejected her.

I’m saving her.

She has no idea what I’m longing to do to her.

But too soon would be a disaster that we’d both regret.

After she moves to the fridge, I take my turn washing my hands before getting the plates down from the cupboard.

Our seats seem closer without the highchair between us.

“I hope a garden salad is okay?” Her mouth twists as she sets the heavy ceramic bowl on the table.

“Perfect.” I grab two glasses and add them to the placing.

“I have milk, water, tea, or I can make you some coffee?” She stands next to her chair, wringing her hands nervously.

Fuck. I pushed her away, and now I’m paying for it.

“Some of that amazing tea sounds delicious. Can you tell me how you make it?” I feel like I need to get her comfortable again.

“You really like it?” She fetches a half-gallon jar from the refrigerator and pours us each a glass. “It’s mint, chamomile, a little lavender, and a couple of drops of vanilla. Oh, and some sugar.” Her smile works her frown away as she sits. “Most of it comes from the garden. When I have extra money, I’ll use honey from the farmer’s market instead. It’s so much better.” Her fingers briefly touch my wrist before she shies away.

Damn it all.

“It’s my new favorite.” I raise my drink and take a long swallow.

I’m not even exaggerating.

“Thank you,” she says, dropping her gaze to her colorful plate.

She must have worked hard on this salad, it’s filled with almost every vegetable I can imagine.

A million times better than the bland industrial food they offer at the hospital cafeteria.

“You grew all of this?” I gesture my fork at the last remaining bites. “That has to be hard in this heat?” I continue to be impressed with her.

“I get bored eating the same thing every day.” She squints up at me. “Last summer all I really managed was carrots and lettuce. A few tomatoes. But I’m learning.” She points to her last slice of cucumber. “I had no idea how hard these buggers were to grow. Everyone said they were easy. Same with spinach. Who knew it likes to bolt as soon as it gets warm?” She rolls those big blue eyes, and I can’t help but smile with her.

“It’s a skill. I’ve heard it takes longer to become a master gardener than it does to become a doctor.” I stand up before she does, taking her plate to the sink.

I need to remember to pick up some of those dishwashing tabs to free up her time.

For what?

Me.

“I find that hard to believe.” She follows me with our empty glasses, stacking them on the dishes.

“No, really. How many kinds of plants are there? Thousands? There’s only one human body.” And I very much want to learn every inch of hers.

She looks up, moving close enough I can smell the kiss of chamomile on her lips. “You still have a bit of dirt.” Her finger waggles next to her nose, pointing at my jaw. “If you wanted to take a shower, I have clean towels.”

Her palm hovers over my bicep, but she pulls back before it lands. “The water is slow to warm up,” she calls over her shoulder.

I’m left staring at her bright red shorts disappearing down the hallway, fighting every cell in my body that is screaming at me to chase her down and pin her against the wall.