Country Heat (King Creek Cowboys Book 1) (10 page)

T
he Saturday
of the barbeque dawned bright and sunny. Carter looked up at a cloudless blue sky that promised a beautiful day ahead.

His gaze returned to Kit. God, she was beautiful. Every time he saw her, every chance he had to be with her, his heart grew fuller and fuller. He’d enjoyed women, he’d had close relationships with a few—but he’d never loved any of them. Hell, he hadn’t even known what love felt like.

Until now.

Love. Damn. But there it was.

I love Kit.

Kit swept her gaze over the tables and chairs set out on the extensive back lawn. “This couldn’t be a more perfect day.”

Carter put his arm around her shoulders “I ordered the weather just for you.”

She leaned her head against his chest. “Thank you, for being so sweet like that.”

He laughed. He loved their conversations and their playful banter.

“I’d better get back to work.” She raised her head and he let his arm slide from her shoulders, even though he wanted to continue to hold her. “You go do your thing and I’ll do mine.”

He saluted. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She laughed and swatted him with the kitchen towel she pulled out of her pocket.

“Ouch.” He rubbed his ass. “I think you’d better kiss my boo-boo.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get on out of here, cowboy.”

He checked his cellphone for the time and then ruffled her silky hair. “Guests start arriving in two hours.”

“Hey.” She smoothed down her hair. “Watch the ’do. I just took a shower and fixed it.”

“That’s why you smell so good.” He lowered his head and drank in her orange blossom scent. Such a clean and fresh scent. “You always smell good.”

“Last time I’m going to tell you.” She put her hands against his chest and he felt the heat of them through his shirt. “Go on now.”

He swooped down for a kiss and felt her soft mouth beneath his, and she parted her lips. Damn, did it feel good kissing her, and she tasted so sweet. He made sure it was a good long one that would take her breath away. It sure took his.

“See you later, cowboy.” She shook her head and smiled as she started back to the sliding glass arcadia door that led into the house. Her blonde ponytail swung against her back, and he watched her cute ass as she walked. He loved the way her blue jeans and T-shirt molded to her curves.

She paused at the door and glanced over her shoulder, smiled, and waved her hand in a shooing motion before entering his home.

He grinned to himself. He didn’t think he’d smiled so much in his life before Kit came to work for him.

Something came to mind that he’d heard Kit hum a time or two before—an older Dierks Bentley song,
What Was I Thinking?

Carter started whistling the tune. He knew what
he
was thinking, and it had everything to do with a future with Kit.

* * *

G
race rattled
on to Carter about God knew what. He liked Grace, respected and trusted her with his business. But Christ, how the woman could talk.

His attention wandered and he saw Kit talking with his mother. Kit’s beautiful smile radiated from her like welcome sunshine on a dreary day.

Today was anything but dreary, and in the midst of close to a hundred neighbors and family, Kit still managed to shine brightest out of everyone at the barbeque.

He had hired several people to handle serving food and drinks and taking care of guests. He’d wanted Kit to be able to enjoy herself after all the hard work she’d put into the event. She still kept checking in on the temporary staff, but all seemed to be going well.

“Carter?” Grace’s voice edged in on his thoughts. “Carter. Did you hear what I said?”

No.
He brought his attention back to Grace. She glanced in Kit’s direction, as if to see where his mind had been, before returning her gaze to him.

“How long do you think the new cook will last?” A hint of something like disapproval was in Grace’s voice.

The tone Grace spoke in made him pause, and he wondered just how much she suspected about Kit and Carter’s relationship.

“I think she likes it here.” Carter glanced at Kit again, before looking at Grace. “The employees sure as hell love her cooking.”

Grace frowned. She was a great manager, but it was clear she suspected something. From prior conversations, he knew she didn’t believe in employees having romantic relationships within the business, and Carter was supposed to be setting an example.

Before she could say anything, Carter went on, “Kit’s been working her ass off for this get together for weeks.” He nodded in her direction. “I’ll check on her.

Grace looked like she’d just chewed on a cow patty, but she nodded.

He rested one hand on Grace’s shoulder and smiled. “You’re terrific at your job and you know I appreciate you.” He smiled. “I got this, Grace.”

She relaxed beneath his touch and nodded. “Go get her, boss.”

He smiled and squeezed her shoulder before heading toward Kit. He focused on her, watching the way she laughed, her sexy smile, and the amusement in her eyes. He liked how easily she spoke with his family and how comfortably she fit in the environment.

“Slow down there, pardner.” Justin caused Carter to stop in his tracks. “I’ve been looking for you. I’d like to introduce you to Jennifer.”

“Welcome to the ranch, Jennifer.” Carter’s focus shifted to the gorgeous brunette at his brother’s side. Carter extended his hand and she took it. “Justin mentioned you.”
Every time he’s around.
Justin had a thing for the brunette, but then he had a thing for brunettes in general.

“It is nice here.” Jennifer spoke with an English accent. She had a faint handshake, and it felt as if her hand might turn to dust within his. She appeared slightly bored as she looked around at the guests milling about. She returned her gaze to Carter. “You have many friends.”

“It’s a good excuse to get together with folks we know.” Carter hooked his thumbs in his pockets as he studied the brunette. Something about her that he couldn’t quite place, told him this one was trouble. He hoped his brother knew what he was getting into.

After a few moments of talking with Justin and Jennifer, Carter excused himself and headed straight for Kit.

When he reached her side, he touched her arm.

She looked at him and flashed a smile that made his stomach tighten. “Hi, cowboy.” She gave a nod toward his mom. “Julie and I were talking about the garden patch you’re going to start this week. She mentioned you told her about it.”

He wanted to touch Kit so badly it physically hurt to keep his hands to himself. “We’d do anything to keep our favorite ranch chef.”

“We?” Julie asked with a teasing smile on her lips.

His face suddenly felt a little hot. Couldn’t hide a damned thing from his mom. “I’m not gonna let this one go, Mom.”

The light dimmed a little in Kit’s eyes, but she gave him a bright smile. “I’ve really enjoyed my time at the ranch.”

Julie tilted her head to the side. “I hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

Kit seemed to backtrack. “No buts about it. I love it here.”

Screw it.
He didn’t care if everyone in the state knew Kit was his woman.

My woman.

Carter put his arm around her and pulled her close. He looked down at Kit and smiled at the surprise in her eyes. Right there in front of God, the ranch employees, and what seemed like the entire town of King Creek, he kissed her long and hard.

When he drew back from the kiss, she appeared to be too stunned for words.

“About time.” Julie smiled. “I didn’t know how much longer we were all going to have to keep the act up, pretending not to know about you two.”

“We?” He echoed his mom as he met her gaze, and she laughed.

Carter spent the next hour with Kit, his arm around her shoulders as he introduced her to family members she hadn’t met yet, as well as friends and neighbors.

Kit appeared to be enjoying herself, however he sensed something was off. He couldn’t quite place what it was.

Every now and then he would join her as she checked in with the temp staff. When everyone else had their food, Carter and Kit filled their plates and sat across from each other at the end of a picnic table. He was hungry as hell and dug in.

“Damn.” He gestured to his plate with his fork. “Don’t tell Mom, but I’ve never tasted potato salad as good as this.”

Kit smiled. “It’s just made with baby potatoes and a few everyday ingredients.”

He shook his head. “I think this is another one of your secret recipes that I’m going to have to tickle out of you.”

“Don’t you dare.” She grinned. “Maybe we could make some kind of deal.”

He shoveled his meal in his mouth, pausing only to drink water and rave about her food. The cowboy beans and deviled eggs were incredible, but best of all was her secret recipe BBQ sauce.

When he finished thirds, he pushed aside his empty plate and took both of her hands in his on the tabletop. “Something’s wrong. I can see it in your eyes, Kit.”

She started to say something, then hesitated a moment. “There are some things we need to talk about. But later, when the barbeque is over.”

He frowned. “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

She straightened and smiled, but the light in her eyes had dimmed. “I’m fine. Let’s—”

Grace’s voice cut into the conversation. “I have someone here to see you, Kit.” She moved aside so that Carter and Kit could see a young man of about eighteen, wearing a San Francisco Giants baseball cap.

“Hi, Mom,” the boy said to Kit.

She went totally still. “Michael?”

The boy kept his eyes on her. “Yes.”

Kit stammered, “How—how did you find me?”

Carter felt like something was crawling down his spine as he watched the exchange. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what was happening. Kit had said she didn’t have kids and wasn’t able to have any children.

But this young man, Michael, was her son? He could see the resemblance. He had the same moss-green eyes.

Why had Kit clearly not recognized her son? Why did she ask how he’d found her? The questions continued to pile up in his mind until he almost couldn’t think straight.

He shoved them all aside.

None of his questions mattered. What
did
matter was that Kit had lied to him. Lying was something he couldn’t accept. Wouldn’t accept.

Carter stood and extended his hand to Michael. “I’m Carter McLeod, the owner of Superstition Springs Ranch.”

Michael shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Carter saw Kit’s face from his peripheral vision. Her features had gone pale and she looked stunned.

“I’ll leave you to talk with your son, Kit.” He barely kept ice from his voice. “I’ll see to my guests.”

“Thank you.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but Carter turned away.

He sidestepped Grace and strode toward the house. He needed a moment to himself before he joined his guests again—

Without Kit at his side.

K
it tried
to come to grips with two things—the son she had given up for adoption when she was sixteen, eighteen years ago, had tracked her down.

And Carter had just shut the door on their relationship. She knew it with everything she had.

She’d planned on leaving anyway, right?

In that moment she realized the truth. The only way she could have left Carter was for him to push her away. And he’d done just that…because she hadn’t been honest with him.

For now, she had to set that aside. “Let’s go someplace quieter to talk,” she said to Michael.

“Sure.” He nodded. “I have some questions.”

Kit rose from the table, and the two of them strode across the lawn to the guest house, which was a good way from the party. Gradually, conversation and laughter faded into the distance. She and Michael were silent, waiting to be alone before continuing their conversation.

They passed the plot of land where the garden was supposed to go, and her heart twisted. Carter had picked a spot just for her. He’d treated her so well, and she’d lied to him.

Michael and Kit rounded the guest house. Like Carter, Michael was so tall he had to duck beneath the arbor before they made it to the front door. She had a hard time believing that the baby boy she’d handed over to the adoption agency in San Francisco, now topped her height by six to eight inches.

She let him into the small house and closed the door behind him. “Have a seat.”

He picked the couch and perched on the edge as if ready to dive into a conversation. His features appeared relaxed, but he bounced one leg, showing his nervousness.

“I could use something cold to drink.” She brushed strands of hair from her face with a sweep of her hand. “Would you like water or lemonade?” She wondered if maybe she should put something strong in her lemonade right now. Did vodka go with it? Probably—vodka went well with just about everything.

He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Lemonade sounds good.”

“Relax.” She smiled. She could see his father in him, and maybe a little of herself. “I’ll be right back.”

He blew out his breath and nodded.

She filled two tall glasses with homemade lemonade. Carter always loved her lemonade. Just thinking about him made her throat ache.

When she returned to the living room, she offered Michael a chilled glassful. He set down the culinary arts magazine that she’d left on the coffee table, then took the glass from her.

She settled near the edge of her seat, too, in the padded straight back chair cattycorner to the couch where Michael sat. She gripped her glass in both hands as they studied each other.

For a long moment an uncomfortable silence hung between them.

“You look like your father,” she finally said. “He was a year younger than you when we met. He was so good looking.” And she’d been young and foolish.

Michael gave a little smile. “I have your eyes.”

“You do.” Small talk. Couldn’t she come up with something better than banal conversation? She bit the inside of her lip for a moment before speaking. “You know why I gave you up for adoption?”

He nodded. “Mom and Dad told me when I was young. I wanted to know why someone would want to give me away.”

The backs of Kit’s eyes ached and her throat threatened to close off.

“They explained you were young and you were homeless.” Michael spoke quietly. “You had no way to care for me. They only knew what the adoption agency told them, and the records were sealed until I turned eighteen.”

Kit swallowed. “That’s all true.”

“I don’t hold it against you for giving me up.” Michael’s earnest eyes held hers. “You did the best thing you could possibly have done for me. I grew up with great parents in a nice home. It wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t lack for anything. They love me, and they mean everything to me.”

“I always wondered how things were for you. You don’t know how happy this makes me.” She felt like crying from a combination of relief and gratitude. “I’m sad I couldn’t see you grow up, but I’m so glad to know you’ve had a good life.”

“I have.” He continued to look at her with the same intensity in his expression. “I’ve always wanted to meet you. Mom and Dad pretty much drilled into me how grateful I should be and that one day, if you were agreeable, maybe we could meet. I’m sorry to have dropped in on you this way.”

The shame and guilt Kit had felt for almost twenty years started slipping. A stone that had settled deep inside her became lighter and began to drift away.

“I’m glad you did.” Kit’s smile was genuine. “You’ve lifted a burden from my shoulders. I’ve felt so much guilt since the day the nurses took you. They wouldn’t even let me hold you.” The ache in her throat grew. “It was probably for the best. If I had held you, I don’t know that I would have been able to let you go.”

“I hope you didn’t mind me calling you Mom.” Michael’s lips turned up in a small smile. “I couldn’t get myself to say Kit or Kathryn, and you are my birth mom.”

“It makes me feel closer to you and I’m thankful you would want to.” Kit set her untouched drink on a coaster on the coffee table. Her fingers were cool and damp from the condensation on the glass. She dried her palms on her jeans, partially from a residual feeling of nervousness at meeting her son.

“You said you had some questions.” She tilted her head. “What do you want to know?”

Michael looked down at his fingers that he’d linked between his knees. “I have a rare form of leukemia.” He reached up and took off his San Francisco Giants baseball cap. He was completely bald.

Kit’s skin prickled as he gave her the news and she saw the evidence that he’d been treated with chemo. Her son could die? This vibrant young man could be gone…just
gone
?

“I need a bone marrow transplant.” He cleared his throat as he fiddled with his ball cap. “I was wondering if you would be willing to see if you or my birth father have the same HLA markers.”

“Of course.” Kit didn’t hesitate. “The moment we can get an appointment for the blood typing, I will be there.”

Michael’s expression turned to one of relief. “I was afraid to ask.”

“Never be afraid to ask me something.” She held his gaze. “I may not have been there for you since you were born, but I’m here for you now.”

“Thank you.” He said his ball cap on the coffee table. “What about my father?”

Kit looked at her drink, close to his hat. The shame she had felt all these years had evaporated with her son’s news.

She looked back at Michael. “Your father—I barely knew him. When he and I…got together, it was brief and irresponsible. I never saw him again, and I didn’t give the hospital his name when you were born.”

For the first time, thinking about Cody wasn’t strictly a bad memory. “He was homeless, too, but maybe he pulled out of it like my mom and I did. His name was a little different and easy to remember—Cody Haymaker.”

“Cody Haymaker.” Michael gave a slow nod. “My parents might be able to track him down. They own a private investigations firm.” He gave a sheepish smile. “That’s how I was able to find you all the way out here.”

With all the revelations, she’d forgotten to ask him that question. “I’m glad they did locate me, Michael, and I hope that I’m a match. If I’m not, maybe your parents can find Cody and hopefully he would turn out to be a match. Whatever happens, I’m here for you now. Okay?”

He smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

Kit stood and went to him, and he got to his feet. She hugged him and he returned her hug.

“I may not have raised you, but you’ve always had a place in my heart, Michael.” She drew away, her eyes wet with tears. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you and just know I love you.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He smiled. “Whatever happens, I’m just glad to finally meet you.”

“You’re going to be all right.” She hugged him again, not wanting to let go, not wanting anything to happen to her baby.

* * *

C
arter had walked away
from Kit and the damned barbeque without looking back. He stood in his home office trying to rein in the storm of feelings raging through him. One thing he’d never tolerated was lying. Kit had said she couldn’t have and didn’t have any children.

He thought about that time when they had first met and he had asked her. He had a damned good memory. What had he asked her?

It was her first day on the ranch and they’d been standing in the kitchen. “Married?” he’d asked. “Any kids?”

Kit hadn’t looked at him—he could picture it clearly. She’d looked so beautiful and he’d been attracted to her in ways he had never been attracted to any woman.

What had been her response? Her words came back to him.

“I’ve never been married, and I’ve never raised a child.”

Not a flat out lie, but a lie by omission.

He dropped his Stetson onto his desk and pushed his fingers through his hair. He moved to the office window and spotted Michael and Kit walking toward the guest house. His gut clenched as the pair headed around the house and disappeared.

What about the day he’d asked her if she wanted kids? He remembered her telling him she liked kids, but couldn’t have any.

Was that true? Had something happened that prevented her from having any
more
children?

He let his gaze drift over the crowd of people laughing, eating, playing horseshoes, and participating in other activities. His gaze stopped on the kids riding the pony in the small ring they had set up. Once he’d learned she couldn’t have children, his thoughts had immediately gone to adoption and he’d pictured raising several adopted kids with Kit. He hadn’t even known her that long, and he’d already been thinking about kids with her.

Adoption.

Michael had to be eighteen or nineteen. If that was the case, then Kit would have been no more than fifteen or sixteen when he was born. If she had given him up for adoption, that would explain why she hadn’t recognized him.

Kit had been homeless at that age. He tried to see the whole situation from the point of view of a scared, homeless teenager. She would have had no choice, of course. It wouldn’t have been right for the child to raise him on the street.

How would that have left her feeling?

Guilt, pain, sorrow.

He moved away from the window and picked up the scorpion paperweight his sister had given him when he was young. He thought about his little sister being homeless and pregnant, and having to give up her child.

The thought nearly drove him to his knees. God, what Kit had gone through…he couldn’t begin to imagine.

When he’d asked her the questions, she had barely known him. He could understand her not wanting to tell a stranger. However, as much as they shared since then, she should have told him everything along the way.

Yes, she should have, but did she deserve to be treated badly by him? Was it enough for him to turn his back to her and end the special relationship they shared? He loved her so deeply it hurt like hell to think of never being with her again.

She didn’t deserve to be treated anyway but as the good, wonderful person she was.

He scooped up his hat and tugged it low on his brow before heading out the French doors of his office and onto the back lawn. He nodded to guests but kept going. His strides ate up the distance between his home and the guest house.

When he got the arbor, he ducked under it, leaves brushing his hat. He hesitated at the door and heard voices on the other side.

He knocked and the voices went quiet. A moment later and the doorknob rattled and then the door swung open.

Kit stood in the doorway, her eyes damp. She’d been crying.

“What happened?” His protective instincts jumped by a hundred percent. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I’m fine.” She looked over her shoulder before turning her attention back to Carter. “Michael and I were just talking about… I don’t know if it’s something he wants to share.”

“It’s fine,” Michael said from behind her.

Kit stepped out of the way to let Carter into the guest house. The moment he stepped inside, he saw Michael. The young man was completely bald.

Michael scooped his hat off the coffee table and pulled it on. “I have leukemia,” he said as he adjusted the hat.

“Damn.” Carter walked into the middle of the room, close to Michael. “Do you mind if I ask you what your prognosis is?”

The young man shrugged. “Sure.”

Carter took a chair while Michael and Kit sat on the couch. Kit was no more than a couple of feet from Carter’s chair.

Michael explained about his diagnosis, the steps that had been taken to date, and that he needed a bone marrow transplant. He talked about his search for a donor and hoping his birth father or mother would qualify as a donor.

“I hope like hell Kit or your birth father are a match,” Carter said. “I’d be happy to help look for Haymaker. Your mother and I can help finance the search.” He looked at Kit’s surprised expression and leaned forward to reach for her hand. He took it in his. “What’s mine is yours, Kit.”

She looked too stunned to speak.

“Thank you, Mr. McLeod,” Michael said.