“You look happy, you know,” Carrie said. “He’s made you happy, hasn’t he?”
Bailey opened her mouth and then closed it, making Carrie laugh. “Oh, ignore me,” Hud’s mom said. “I like to butt in where I’m not welcome. Lifelong habit.”
“It’s not that you’re not welcome,” Bailey assured her. “It’s more that it’s been so long since I could just enjoy myself that suddenly I’m not sure what to do with all the emotions.”
“You could just let them come,” Carrie suggested with brilliant simplicity. “Let things happen.”
“I’m not all that good at that,” Bailey admitted.
Carrie tilted her head to the side. “That’s okay. You might’ve noticed my son isn’t very good with it either.”
“No,” Bailey said on a short laugh. “He’s not.”
“It’s because he has so much on his plate all the time and he always has. It’s a heavy weight, all that responsibility, although he’s pretty comfortable wearing it. He ever tell you about the well?”
Bailey shook her head.
Carrie sighed. “He and Jacob were born feral. Wild to the core. I couldn’t corral them. Hell, I don’t know if anyone could have. They needed a father, but that wasn’t going to happen. They were ten years old when they were playing with a friend on an abandoned property near where we lived. Stevie fell into the well and couldn’t get back up on his own. The water was deep enough that he had to tread water to keep his head free. The twins knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep that up for more than a few minutes in the cold water so Jacob went for help while Hud found a rope and lowered it down the well. But he wasn’t strong enough to pull Stevie up. He had to hold on and wait for Jacob to come back with help.”
“Oh, my God,” Bailey breathed. “How long did that take?”
“They were four miles away from the road and then Jacob had to hitchhike back into town. Took him two hours to get back to the well. Hudson waited two full hours holding on to the rope the whole time, promising Stevie he wouldn’t let him go.”
Bailey could see the boy Hudson had been, bent over the well to keep eye contact with his friend and uttering assurance for as long as it took.
“He still has the scars on his palms,” Carrie said. “All his life, everyone has always talked about good ol’ dependable Hud. Couldn’t find a more steady, responsible man if you tried. Some of which he took to heart, of course.”
“I don’t see how he couldn’t,” Bailey murmured.
Carrie nodded. “Although to be honest, he’s used it to his advantage. He lets responsibility always win out over a personal life. It’s easier, you see. Safer.”
“Safer than what?”
“Putting his heart out there, of course,” Carrie said. “It’s prevented him from letting go of any responsibility in favor of a life. Instead he holds on to his responsibilities with the same grip he held on to Stevie—at the expense of his own happiness.” She paused and met Bailey’s gaze. “You know what I’m saying?”
“Yes,” Bailey said. “I believe I do.” Hud had made it about her, that she’d set the one-day-at-a-time rule, that it was she who didn’t want a real relationship.
He’d hidden behind that.
And she’d let him.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Carrie said. “You can always count on Hud. That’s the point of this story. Always, to the end. He doesn’t fail the people he cares about, ever.”
“But he gives so much to everyone else in his life that there’s nothing left for him to give to someone… special,” Bailey said softly.
Carrie touched her own nose and nodded. “He shuts women out,” she said. “It’s a definite fault. And as I’ve mentioned, he also pushes away those he especially cares about. You might have noticed that as well.”
Bailey laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah. Little bit.”
Carrie smiled sadly. “Are you going to fall in love with him, Bailey?”
Bailey drew a quick breath. Was she? Was she really going to fall in love with Hudson Kincaid?
She suspected she already had…
“Whatever’s happening between us,” she finally answered, “it’s just until the mural is done. We both knew that. I have my graphic design work in Denver—”
“Which could be done from anywhere.”
“Maybe,” Bailey allowed. “But Hudson’s pretty busy here with the mountain and…”
“Looking for his brother,” Carrie said.
“Yes.”
“And taking care of me.”
“He would never say that was a burden,” Bailey said.
“True,” Carrie agreed. “But we both know different.”
Bailey shook her head. “No—”
“If it wasn’t for me,” Carrie said, “they’d still be together. We’d never have left Jackson Hole. But we did, and that’s on me. Now Hudson’s alone and sad.” She broke off and bowed her head a moment, rubbing her temples.
“Carrie?” Bailey rose from her chair. “Hey, you okay?”
“Just a headache. Raising twins will do that to you. They’re hell on wheels.” Carrie sighed and lifted her head. “Hudson broke Jacob’s arm, did I tell you that? He was riding his bike on the back roads with Jacob on his handlebars when he hit a bump and sent Jacob flying to the moon. He hit a tree on the way.”
“That must have been a long time ago,” Bailey said.
“Just last week. Jacob’s in a cast. Hud grounded himself.”
Bailey blinked at the sudden change in Carrie. Obviously something had switched and she was no longer in the present but once again locked in the past. Bailey reached for Carrie’s hand. “Maybe it’s time to rest.”
“Nonsense,” Carrie said. “A mom with two wild heathens has no time for rest. No one else blamed Hud, of course, but he can’t be talked out of feeling responsible for Jacob. He never can. It’s the well all over again, only this time his scars are on the inside not the outside—”
“Mom.”
They both turned in surprise to the door.
Hud stood in the doorway. Bailey couldn’t read his expression. He was really good at hiding his thoughts when he wanted to. In any case, he wasn’t exactly broadcasting good humor at the moment.
“Excuse us a minute, Mom,” he said, and wrapped his hand around Bailey’s wrist.
Nope, definitely not happy, she thought as he pulled her from the room. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “We weren’t gossiping about you.”
“No?” he asked mildly as he pulled her out of hearing range of his mom, nudged her up against a wall, and leaned in close to kiss all the good sense out of her.
Chapter 23
When Hud pulled back, Bailey let out a breath. “I always forget things when you do that,” she said.
Hud had his forearms flat on the wall on either side of her face and let his fingers cup her head. She was wearing a sky-blue ski cap today. The cap was rolled up at the edges, allowing him to see her new, thin strawberry-blond wisps—a few inches long now—that were starting to frame her face.