Page 13 of More Than a Little Spark (Cowboys of Stargazer Springs Ranch #9)

Daphne

Daphne

“ W e’re doing what?” I reach back to make sure the bed is behind me before sitting down.

Rose glances over her shoulder. “One of Matthew’s grandchildren has a sick kid, so all the plans changed. And we’ve been invited to Stargazer Springs for Christmas Eve festivities. It’ll be fun.”

I suck in a deep breath. “It’ll be awkward. How am I supposed to be around Carson and act like he’s not the best thing since sliced bread? Because I’m telling you that I would give up sliced bread completely if I could have Carson. No questions asked. I don’t even have to think about it.”

“Please. Tandy and Matthew are going, and I’ll just be thinking about you all evening if you stay here.”

“I’ll go. And I’ll be… demure.”

My friend laughs. “Of course you will. Now, get ready. We’ll leave in an hour.”

While the situation isn’t ideal because I haven’t the least clue who knows that Carson and I are dating and I have to rein in my flirting because of Fred, I am looking forward to spending time at the ranch. I’ve heard so much about it from both Rose and Carson.

My choices are limited to what Rose has picked out from my closet, so it doesn’t take forever and a day to choose what to wear.

Hopefully, this isn’t a fancy shindig because I’m sporting another pair of my modified jeans and a baggy red sweater.

This is my new standard attire outside of work until I can get my foot into a regular pair of pants.

I might need to buy another sweater or two.

I do breathing exercises as Dallas parks outside Beau and Lilith’s house.

“Everyone is nice, Daphne. You don’t need to be nervous.” Dallas turns around to look at me. “Seriously. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m not nervous.”

Rose giggles. “She’s mustering her self-control so that she doesn’t tackle Carson.”

“Truth.” I slide out and grab my crutches. While my hobbling skills are improving, I still resemble a newborn fawn when trying to get around. But in spite of everything, I will have fun tonight. Seeing Carson is an extra treat.

I make it two steps inside the door, and my phone is buzzing in my pocket. The rhythm of the buzzing tells me that it’s my brother Dane. I can’t ignore his call on Christmas Eve.

“Rose, my brother is calling. Is there a quiet place I can talk to him?”

She points to a door at the far end of the living room. “Through there. On the other side of the game room is the mess hall. It’s probably empty. And there is a porch behind it if you dare brave the cold.”

“Thanks.” I swipe to answer, then tuck the phone between my head and shoulder. “Hey there. I’m getting somewhere quiet. Merry Christmas.”

Dane chuckles. “I can just picture you on crutches walking and talking. Please don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’m good. I think my phone is in more danger than I am. But I’m trying not to drop it. Are you having a good Christmas so far?”

“I am. But listen, we can talk more later. I just wanted to give you a heads up. Denise is likely going to call you soon. Make sure you answer.”

Startled, I grab the porch rail, and both crutches fall to the ground. “She’s avoided me for so long. What did you say to get her to call me? And thank you.”

“Just answer her call, okay? We can talk about everything else later. Love you, sis.”

“Love you too. Merry Christmas.” An incoming call beeps in my ear, and I pull in a calming breath before answering.

My sister. I haven’t spoken to her in months.

Not for lack of trying, but since I moved out years ago, she pretty much only gives me one-word answers.

And she never initiates conversations. “Hello.”

“Hey, Daphne. This is Denise.”

“It’s so good to hear from you. Merry Christmas.” Leaning against the rail, I peer out at the stars.

“I spoke to Dane earlier today. He said you were in an accident. Is that why you aren’t coming to Mom’s tomorrow?” Worry tinges my sister’s voice.

“I’m on crutches, so stairs are hard for me right now. Otherwise, I’d totally celebrate with y’all.” I probably sound like I’ve had a bit too much spiked eggnog, but I want her to know how happy I am that she called.

Denise is quiet for several heartbeats. “You were hurt? What happened? I thought…”

“I’ll recover. I’m already healing. What were you going to say? You thought what?”

“I thought you wanted us to leave you alone. That we were a bother.” Her voice cracks on the last word.

I grasp the rail and drag my cheek against my shoulder to wipe away tears. “That’s not true at all. You aren’t a bother. None of y’all are. I feel bad that I didn’t even drop off gifts for you. But Mom said it was best to wait.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant. Mom said we needed to give you space. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

I’m not sure why my mother wants me cut off from my family. Payback for moving out maybe? But it hurts and makes me irrationally angry. “No. I miss you, Denise. And I’m really glad you called me.”

“Merry Christmas. I have my license now, so maybe while I’m out of school this week, we can go get lunch somewhere.”

“I’d love that. So much.”

“Great. I’ll text you. But I need to run. Everyone else is here now.”

“Have fun. I can’t wait to see you.” I stay on the line until she ends the call, then lean against the rail looking out at the stars.

Footsteps on the wood porch catch my attention, and I turn.

Carson smiles and reaches down to pick up my crutches. “You’ll need these. Carrying you here might give away our secret.” He rests them against the post, then wipes a tear off my cheek with his thumb. “You’re upset.” Concern twinges in his gorgeous eyes.

“It’s a mix of happy tears and fury tears.

I’m trying to focus on the happy. My sister called me.

She was really little when my dad died, and I took care of her more than my mom did.

Denise was eight when I moved out, and since then, she hardly speaks to me.

It tears me up inside because I feel guilty for leaving. I don’t want her to hate me.”

He rests his forearms on the rail next to me, and his flannel shirt brushes my arm. “But she called you. That sounds like a good thing.”

“It is. It sounds like my mom had told her that I wanted space. Told her not to bother me.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. But Denise suggested we meet for lunch, and I’m excited about that.”

“Good.” He glances back toward the mess hall, then leans in closer. “You look amazing tonight.”

“You’re always amazing, Carson. I hope having me here isn’t too awkward.” A gust of wind slices through my sweater, and I shiver.

“Not at all. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.” He holds out my crutches and strolls beside me to the door.

In the game room, three kids are clustered in front of a screen. The girl, who looks younger than the two boys, has a controller in her hand and is leaning from side to side, mimicking her character’s movements. One of the two boys must be Fred.

Carson stops before opening the door to the main house. “Fred, Mason, and Bailey, y’all ready to eat?”

“Yep.” Bailey sets the controller down. “Fred, you can sit by me.” She reaches for one of the boys.

He steps out of her reach but nods. “Mason and I will sit with you.” His gaze lands on me, then snaps to Carson.

“This is Daphne. She’s Rose’s good friend. Remember how I helped someone who had an accident? This is who I helped.”

The boy Bailey didn’t reach for sticks out his hand. “I’m Mason. It’s nice to meet you. Christmas on the ranch is the coolest.” He glances at my foot. “Sorry you got hurt.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mason.” I extend a hand to Bailey. “Hi.”

She cocks her head and studies my foot. “What happened?”

“I was in a car accident, and I broke a bone in my foot.”

Eyes squinted, she stares ahead as if deep in thought. “I don’t know much about feet. But I’ll google it later on Anderson’s phone. He lets me use his phone a lot.”

Fred steps closer and reaches out like Mason did. “Hey. Uncle Car told me that a bad driver hit your car. Sorry about that.”

“Yeah. But your uncle was a big help that night.” I keep my tone even, trying not to gush.

Fred flashes Carson a grin. “He’s pretty cool.”

In a flash, the three of them disappear into the house.

Carson holds open the door. “And now you’ve met Fred.”

“I think Bailey might have a bit of a crush on him.”

He laughs. “Bailey loves the name Fred. And she treats him like he’s her Prince Charming. It’s amusing.”

“How cute.”

“I’m not sure Fred always thinks so, but at least he doesn’t treat her like she has cooties anymore.” He touches a hand to my back as I hobble through the doorway. “Careful. Don’t trip on the rug.”

If he wants me to focus on staying upright, he shouldn’t touch me. Because the zing that travels through every nerve ending when he does is distracting. Gloriously distracting.