Page 1 of More Than a Little Spark (Cowboys of Stargazer Springs Ranch #9)

Carson

S ince taking custody of my nephew, I can count the times on one hand that I’ve gone out on a Saturday night. I don’t regret adopting Fred, not in the least. But gosh, this year has been a steep learning curve. For both of us.

I think all the single-digit years in a kid’s life are just training parents for the double-digit years, and I missed out on all the training.

And that poor kid had it rough before coming to live with me.

Moving added an extra layer of chaos, but that decision is one I’ll never regret.

Stargazer Springs Ranch offered both a job and a place to live, but the best part is that Fred found a best friend.

He and Mason hit it off instantly, and Mason’s parents, Kent and Poppy, are the reason I’m dressed in a Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned down to my navel and driving to a costume party.

I don’t have a fancy red sports car, but I’m rocking a fabulous mustache.

Hopefully, this is enough for people to recognize who I’m supposed to be.

The gut hanging over my belt doesn’t help.

I don’t look anything like Thomas Magnum.

Maybe I should’ve ordered a life-size Higgins cut-out to take with me to the party.

Weeks ago, when Dallas invited us all to Rose’s party, Kent and Poppy offered to keep Fred for a sleepover. And that’s the day I started growing my ’stache. The finishing touch on my costume.

I may look ridiculous, but isn’t that sort of the point of a costume party? I’m never going to get oohs and aahs, but I can get laughs.

As I shift into the left lane to pass a Civic on the right, a muscle car zooms up beside me and tries threading the needle. I tap the brakes, knowing he won’t have enough room.

But that doesn’t stop him, and he makes contact with the left rear corner of the Civic, then continues down the road as if nothing happened.

I slam on my brakes as the Civic spins, and when a tire gets off the pavement into the dirt, the car starts flipping.

It’s like a scene straight out of a movie. As the event plays out in slow motion, fireworks of panic explode in my head.

Stuff like this is why I have a dash cam.

I skid to a stop on the side of the road and race back to the car that’s now upside down in a ditch.

Bracing for a sight that’ll give me nightmares, I drop into the dirt to check on the driver.

A woman, who is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, blinks, her face and body covered in powder from the deployed airbags. Making jokes about Danger-prone Daphne would be in very poor taste, so I keep those thoughts to myself. She’s alive. That’s better than the alternative.

I yank open the door and ease onto my belly. “Are you okay?”

She turns to look at me, her eyes red. “He hit me.”

Fake red hair is hanging toward the ceiling, and the edge of her skirt is behaving similarly. Gravity and all that. But her seat belt is keeping most of the skirt where it covers her thighs. Not that I’m looking all that closely.

I keep my voice calm in spite of the chaos in my brain. “I saw. And hopefully the whole thing was caught on my dash cam.”

She reaches for the seat belt.

“Wait! Don’t unbuckle yet.” I worry that moving her is a bad idea, but I can’t leave her hanging upside down. I’m not even sure it’s safe to stay in the car. I scan her body for visible injuries. “Can you move your arms, hands, fingers?”

Nodding, she waves both hands. “Yeah.”

I reach in and turn off the engine. “Now your feet. Just want to check before I even touch you.”

She moves her feet, then yelps. “Ouch! My ankle.”

I can’t see her feet, but given the state of the car, I’m not surprised she’s injured. Hopefully, it’s minor. “Okay. I’m going to get you out of here, but I’ll need your help.”

She bounces her head, clearly afraid. And after glancing around, she frantically tries to hold the bottom of her dress against her legs.

That’s when it clicks that she’s in a costume on the same country road that I’m on.

What are the chances we were headed to the same party?

That’s not something I need to think about.

It doesn’t matter. She’s cute, but now that I’m a chubby guy with a preteen, my chances of dating are slim to none.

Women like her don’t typically look twice at guys like me.

I’m a firm believer in leagues, and she’s top tier.

I push up onto my knees. “We don’t want you landing on your head. But if you hug my neck, Daphne, I can unbuckle your seat belt without you falling.”

Twisting, she maneuvers and then wraps her arms around my neck. “Do you know me?”

“Don’t hug it quite that tight. I’ll be more help if I can breathe. And, no, we haven’t met before. I’d have remembered. But since you’re dressed as Daphne, I went with that.”

“Oh.” She laughs nervously and glances at her dress. “My name is Daphne. For real. But I’m not really a redhead. It’s a wig.”

“Never would’ve guessed.” I think through the physics of how to pull her clear without banging her up any more than she already is. “Hang on, okay?” I click the buckle and pull her close as I lean back on my knees.

She cries out when her foot bumps the car.

“I’m so sorry.” And now I have to figure out how to get to my feet. I clearly didn’t think this one out well.

“It’s okay. Is my skirt down?” She twists her head, trying to see behind her.

“I’ll check.” The way she’s hanging on me, it’s hard to see what’s happening with her dress, so I use my hands and fix the parts of her dress that are flipped up.

As much as other people here to help would make things easier, I’m kind of glad no one is around to see me feeling around her dress. “I think you’re good now.”

With the way she’s clutching my neck, I don’t really need to hold on to her, but I do anyway.

Dropping her would make me feel horrible.

With one arm around her waist, I grab the car with the other.

Using all the strength I can muster, I manage to work myself to my feet with her hanging on the front of me.

“I’ll put you in my truck until help arrives, okay?” Once I’m standing, I shift her to a cradle hold and walk toward my truck.

“You called in the accident?”

My first thought was to get her out of the car. Maybe I should’ve called first. Too late to question that now. “I haven’t yet. But my phone is in my pocket. As soon as I?—”

She shoves her hand into the front pocket closest to her. “This one?”

I stop walking. “Uh, no. My back left pocket.”

She reaches down and pats the right side of my rear.

“My other left.” I’m not sure how else to tell her that she’s touching the wrong side.

She reaches down with her other hand and feels the phone. “I found it.”

This has definitely been an awkward rescue. But when the shock wears off, she likely won’t remember much of what’s happening.

I manage to work the passenger door open without dropping her. And then I set her on the seat, and she calls 911 from my phone.

“Hi, yes. Some guy in a black car hit me, and my car flipped over and ended up in a ditch. Magnum PI got me out of the car. That’s what his costume is, I think.” She pulls the phone away from her ear. “Am I right?”

I nod, thankful the costume wasn’t a complete waste.

She leans closer to me. “What’s your name?”

“Carson.”

“Carson got me out of the car. He’s just dressed like Magnum PI. From the original show, not the reboot. But he’s in jeans, not those tiny shorts. It’s too cold for that.” She’s quiet half a second. “No, I don’t think I need an ambulance.”

There was a Magnum PI reboot? And for the record, I wouldn’t be caught dead in those tiny shorts. Seeing me dressed that way would make people hurl. Even the thought has me queasy.

“You need an ambulance.” I say it loud enough so that the dispatcher can hear me. “Want me to talk to them?”

“Sure.” She says into the phone, “I’m going to let Carson talk to you now.”

I take the phone, eager to get her medical care. “An ambulance would be good. What info do you need?”

“Hi, Carson. Can you give me your location?” The dispatcher is calm and patient, which I appreciate because my heart is about to pound itself right out of my chest.

“Hi. Yes, we’re on…” I open my maps app to get my location. Even after a year, I don’t know the names of the roads. “We’re on ranch road 27, about a mile and a half west of the junction with FM 72.”

“Thank you. I have emergency services and law enforcement en route. Would you like me to stay on the line with you?”

“We’re okay. I’ll call back if something changes.” I shove the phone back into my pocket. “They’re coming, but it might be a bit since we’re far from everywhere.”

She nods and leans out of the truck.

I step closer so that if she falls, I can catch her. “Please be careful.”

“I was just looking at my car. It’s totaled, isn’t it?”

“Because of the rollover, that’s probably what will happen. Often the frame gets bent, and that’s not easily fixable.”

She drops her forehead onto my chest, which makes me wish I’d fastened a few more buttons. My idea of being funny by showing off a bit of chest hair is proving to be a poor choice.

“I didn’t even get a look at his license plate.” She’s shedding tears, and they are running down my front. If they start pooling in my belly button, we’re going to have a problem.

But she’s crying, so I already have a problem. And I’m not sure whether to shove my hands in my pockets or wrap my arms around her.

“Once EMS gets here, I’ll check my dash cam. I’m hoping I have footage of the entire accident.” I opt to shove my hands in my pockets.

She shifts and cries out. Then her body goes limp against me.

Now I’m really worried. Obviously, I don’t want her to die. I’m not an awful person. Plus, having police show up when I’m holding up a dead woman isn’t exactly how I want my night to go. Or the next fifteen to life.

Thankfully, she’s still breathing, so she isn’t dead.

I run a hand down her back, checking for any injuries I may have missed. And I don’t see any blood, which I think is a positive sign. “Daphne, are you okay?” I lift her head and pat her cheek. “Wake up. Open your eyes.”

Her eyelashes flutter, and her eyes fully open moments later. “The pain.” She sucks in a deep breath and winces.

The seat belt and airbag likely saved her life, but they also probably bruised her and maybe cracked a few ribs. It’s possible she passed out from pain. I’m hoping that’s the reason and it’s not something worse like internal bleeding. I need to focus on the positive.

“The ambulance will be here soon.”

She shivers and burrows against me. “It’s cold.”

“Sit up a sec.” When I know she won’t tumble out as soon as I move, I reach into the back seat and grab my coat. “Here, put this on.”

“Thank you.” She stifles a sob as she lifts her arm.

“Don’t hurt yourself. I’ll just put it around you.” I drape it around her shoulders and zip up the front, her arms tucked inside the coat. “Is that better?”

“Carson. You’re my hero.”

“Nah. Just doing the same as anyone else would.”

She rests her weight against me again, then shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Wake me when they get here.”

“Oh. no. Absolutely not. You need to stay awake. Talk to me. Where were you headed tonight? Were you meeting Velma somewhere?”

Not lifting her head, she shakes it again.

“My friend is having a party. But I can’t call her because I don’t have my phone.

I don’t even know where it ended up after the crash.

And she’s not dressed like Velma.” She lifts her head, and we’re nose to nose.

Then she looks at my chest. “Are you cold?”

“Not right now.” My blood is pumping way too fast for me to be chilly. Plus, she’s snuggled against me, which is making me the opposite of cold.

Daphne’s talking and coherent, and I hope she stays that way until the paramedics arrive. Once she’s getting treatment, I’ll call Dallas and let him know why I’m a no-show tonight. And if I had to guess, Rose might want to know what’s going on with Daphne.