Page 12 of The Rancher's Runaway Bride
“I know,” he says, his voice rough. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not a risk.”
“Sometimes risks are worth taking,” I say softly, my heart pounding as I hold his gaze.
For a moment, neither of us speaks, the air between us thick with unspoken words. Then, slowly, he reaches up and brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch sending a shiver down my spine.
“Layla,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that makes my knees weak.
“Yes?” I breathe, my heart racing.
But before he can say anything more, Carson’s voice echoes through the barn. “Daddy! Come see this!”
Cal steps back, the moment shattered. He clears his throat, glancing over his shoulder. “Coming, kiddo.”
I watch as he walks away, my heart pounding in my chest. Whatever just happened between us, it’s far from over.
And I’m not sure if I’m terrified or excited about that.
The soft glow of the lamp spills from Carson’s room as I tiptoe down the hall. It’s late, and the house is quiet except for the low murmur of Cal’s voice. I pause at the doorway, leaning against the frame, unnoticed.
Inside, Cal sits on the edge of Carson’s bed, his broad shoulders hunched forward as he holds a book in his hands. Carson is curled up under the covers, his big brown eyes wide with wonder as he listens.
“…and the little duckling wandered through the reeds, lost and scared,” Cal reads, his voice low and steady, rich with emotion. “But then he heard a croak, and out hopped a frog. ‘Don’t worry,’ said the frog. ‘We’ll keep you safe.’”
Carson clutches his stuffed bear closer. “What happens next?”
Cal turns the page, the soft rustle of paper filling the quiet. “The duckling stayed with the frogs for a while, learning how to swim in their pond. But soon, he met some loons who showed him how to dive deep for food. And when winter came, the geese took him south, teaching him to fly.”
Carson’s brows knit together, and he looks up at Cal. “But what about his real family? Did they come back?”
Cal hesitates, the weight of the question settling over the room. “Sometimes, people leave, buddy,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over the edge of the book. “But it doesn’t mean they stop loving you. And it doesn’t mean you won’t find other people to love you, too.”
Carson tilts his head. “Like you and me?”
My heart clenches. I wipe at the corner of my eye, the lump in my throat making it hard to breathe.
Cal nods, his voice thick with emotion. “Yeah, like us. I wasn’t expecting to be your dad, but here we are. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
Carson snuggles deeper into his blankets. “Do you think there’s a Heaven?”
“I do,” Cal says, his voice unwavering. “And I think your mom is up there, watching you. She’s proud of the young gentleman you’re becoming.”
Carson’s eyes glisten as he whispers, “You think so?”
“I know so,” Cal says, leaning down to kiss Carson’s forehead. “She loves you just as much now as she ever did.”
Tears spill down my cheeks as I watch them, the depth of Cal’s love for Carson hitting me like a wave. He’s not just a grumpy cowboy with a sharp tongue; he’s a man with a heart so big, it could hold the whole world.
Carson’s voice pulls me back. “Do you think I’ll ever have another mom? Like… a new one?”
Cal freezes for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. His gaze flicks to the doorway where I’m standing, his eyes locking with mine. I hold my breath, unable to move.
“I think,” he says carefully, “that sometimes, when you least expect it, the right person comes along. Someone who fits into your family like they were always meant to be there.”
Carson’s sleepy voice murmurs, “Like Layla?”
My hand flies to my mouth, but Cal doesn’t look away. His gaze softens, a flicker of something I can’t quite name—hope, maybe—dancing in his eyes.
“Maybe,” he says, his voice low. “But that’s a big question for another day, buddy. Right now, it’s time for you to sleep.”
