Page 40 of Sweet Surprise

She could see the reluctance in his mom’s face before she nodded, lips pressed tightly. “Makes sense.” Placing a hand on Carson and Preston’s shoulders, she gave them a little shove. “Now go find my grandson.”

Chapter Sixteen

The weight in Carson’s stomach had transformed into a fierce, protective instinct that burned like fire. Mason was his son. His responsibility.

The Jeep bounced hard over the rough terrain, each jolt rattling Carson’s teeth and doing nothing for his frayed nerves. He pushed the accelerator, demanding more speed even as the vehicle protested. Every second stretched into an eternity. If anything happened to Mason…

In his head, Carson envisioned every worst-case scenario. One after another bounced around in his vivid imagination. He could see Mason alone at the diminutive canyon floor, small and vulnerable against the towering ridge with no one to hear his calls for help. More frightening, a rattlesnake coiled in the shadows of a rock ready to pounce, its warning rattle drowned out by the wind. Would Mason even recognize the rattler’s sound? Did city boys from Dallas know anything about venomous snakes? And what if Mason had fallen? Slipped on loose shale, tumbling down a steep incline, left lying injured on the hard ground with no way to get back to safety. More frightening than any of those extreme scenarios was the most likely danger—the mustangs—wild, powerful creatures startled by a boy’s sudden appearance, their hooves thundering across the canyon floor with and unsuspecting Mason frozen, mesmerized, in their path.

No. He shut the thoughts down, clenching his jaw so tight his temples throbbed. He couldn’t let his mind travel that road. Not now.

At his side, Jess checked her cell phone, waiting to hear from someone at the house with news that Mason had been found lost in his artwork, or asleep with Brady in an overlooked corner.

“Anything new?” Carson didn’t look at her, his gaze remained fixed on the terrain ahead, for any sign of a little boy walking.

Jess shook her head. “If he’s been walking for over two hours, how far can he have gone?”

“The canyon area is about five or so miles from the ranch. I’m no expert on nine year olds, but if he’s running and playing around with Brady, he could be there already.”

“How far away are we?”

“Almost there.” One thing he tried to find comfort in was Brady. That dog was smart as a whip, well trained, fearless, and most importantly, loyal. Carson just prayed that dog kept his son safe until he got to him.

Not much time had passed when Jess pointed through the windshield. “There!” she called out, her voice tight with hope.

The canyon area that was barely much deeper than an oversized trench, came into view, a wide, sun-baked cut in the earth that sloped down into more dirt and dust. Carson scanned the area frantically. If Mason wasn’t here, where could he be? Where should they look next?

Carson barely stopped the Jeep before he was out, boots hitting the dirt hard. Across the Jeep, Jess did the same, her eyes darting all around, she cupped her mouth, preparing to call out to her son.

“Don’t.” Carson grabbed her arm. “We don’t want to spook the horses if they’re down there.”

“With Mason,” she muttered softly.

All he did was nod. Taking hold of Jess’s hand, the two of them hurried across the land to the canyon edge. Scanning the distance, his heart sank with no sign of Mason, only a herd of horses mulling about below, and then—movement caught his attention. A small figure crouched low against the darkening landscape. Brady’s muscular form hovering protectively nearby, his stance alert, ears forward. The dog’s attention was divided between the boy and the herd, his training evident in how he positioned himself.

It had to be Mason. Relief crashed through Carson like a wave, immediately followed by a fresh surge of adrenaline when he registered what he was seeing. Every sense focused on the scene unfolding fifty yards ahead. “Stay put,” he quickly told Jess. “Keep the phone handy. We may need help—and fast.”

Jess nodded, her gaze filled with worry and love, whether for him or their son, or both, he didn’t know. So softly, he barely heard her, she whispered, “Be careful.”

Mason, crouched low, extended his small fingers toward a foal curled in the dust. The animal looked tiny, vulnerable—but its mother did not. The mare stood just a few feet away, muscles tensed beneath her dusty coat, ears pinned flat against her head.

Just what he didn’t need. An angry mare in mama bear mode protecting her young. Mason, in his innocence, had gotten between them. Carson’s heart slammed against his ribs.

“Mason.” He kept his voice low, even, though everything in him screamed to yellrun. Instead, as softly as he could and still be heard, he called to Mason, “Don’t move.”

The boy’s head turned, just a fraction. Just enough to be considered a threat. Without hesitation, in a snap, the mare charged.

Carson lunged forward, covering the distance in three desperate strides. He grabbed Mason by the shoulders, swinging him behind his back in one fluid motion. A sharp, white-hot pain tore through his upper arm as the mare’s hoof clipped him—hard.

He stumbled but held his ground, feeling Mason’s small fingers digging into his waist.

The mare whipped around, front hooves pawing the air. Ready to strike again. A low, rumbling growl cut through the tension. Brady had circled around, placing himself between Carson’s back and the angry mare, his body lowered into a defensive stance. The dog’s military training had kicked in—he was now guarding both his charges, ready to engage if necessary.

Damn.

Gravel crunched under Jess’s feet as she stood at the canyon’s edge. Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat painful. She wanted to scream, run, snatch Mason away, and Carson too. But she was frozen in place, too far away to do anyone any good. Not that she had any clue how to save the two people who meant most to her in the world. All she could do was watch the terrifying tableau before her—the man she loved, their son, and a furious wild horse with every protective instinct in her body fully engaged.

She had never been so scared in her life. Not when she’d learned the truth about Todd not being Mason’s father, not when she’d faced eviction, not even when she’d first driven into Honeysuckle with no idea what awaited her. This was pure, primal fear that numbed her limbs and stole her breath.

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