Dawson didn’t make that turn, and Caroline wondered who lived there. Obviously not him, and he went past another dirt road that went south again.
“Main house and barn here,” he said. “Big vegetable garden back there my mama tortured us with.” A smile cracked his face. “That place up front is my brother’s.He’s the foreman and runs the ranch. When Daddy dies, he’ll own it outright.”
“You won’t share ownership with him?”
Dawson shook his head. “Daddy says it’s just easier to have one owner. We have other clauses and whatnot in place to give us all a place here on the ranch.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Two,” he said. “One full sibling, one half. My daddy’s first wife passed away, and he married my mama and had two more boys.”
Caroline’s heart expanded with emotion, because it seemed like Dawson had a good relationship with his family members, but she knew better than most that families were so complicated. Even when things were good, they were twisted and knotted and never simple.
“You?” he asked. “You’ve got Belle. Who else is in your family?”
“We have another older sister,” she said. “Her name is Abigail. And I have a younger brother—my daddy’s pride and joy.” She heard the slight tang of bitterness in her tone as it landed on her tongue. “His name’s Davy.”
“A, B, C, D,” Dawson said.
Surprise once again struck her right across the throat. He’d picked up on the alphabet in her siblings’ names? Tall, handsome, and smart. A dangerous combination for her heart.
“Where do they live?”
“I grew up in Colorado,” she said. “We’re all over theMountain West these days. Well, I mean, we were. Belle’s here now. Davy’s still in the Colorado Springs area. Abigail is in Boise.”
“All good country,” he said.
“Have you ever lived outside of Texas?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am.” He went around the shed and barn and continued down the road. “My brother, Brandon, and I live together. We’ve got a cabin out here. We have a man who works with us. Kevin Bentley. He had to give up his farm a bit ago, and he lived at Shiloh Ridge for a few months. His sister-in-law is a Glover. But we had a need, and he wants to work, so they moved up here. Him and his family. They’ve just got the one daughter.”
Caroline had never heard him say so much, and it made her smile. “Is that everyone?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “We’re not nearly the size of some other ranches. Five hundred and fifty acres. The four of us work it just fine.”
She liked how he made a one-syllable word into two. “Justfiy-yine,” she echoed, grinning at him.
“Are you gonna poke fun at how I talk?”
“Only when you make short words into long ones,” she said, well aware of her flirting.
He pulled up to a cabin that bore blonde-wood logs, a sturdy roof, and bright blue shutters. He parked out front and killed the engine. “This is it. Don’t be thinkin’ it’s gonna be nice. Two men live here.”
“Give me a minute to prepare myself.” She drew in a deep breath, as if she needed the oxygen as a shield against what she’d find behind that black door. Caroline held it for a silent count of four, then released it. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Dust and shadows,” he muttered as he opened his door and got out of the truck. He slammed the door and glared at her through the windshield as he went round the hood. He dang near pulled her door off its hinges and looked at her again.
“Dust and shadows?” she repeated.
Dawson said nothing as he turned and headed for the cabin. She scurried after him, her stomach an empty well of nerves and hissing snakes. The cabin had a porch that ran the width of the house, with a swing built-in on one end and a rocking chair with a small round table on the other. Something sat on the table, and it took Caroline a moment to recognize the pocketknife there.
Shoes that obviously didn’t belong to him or his brother sat on a mat a few feet from the door. Something fit for a teenager—or even younger. Not as young as Judy, but definitely not Dawson’s age.
A couple of opaque rocks sat among the shoes too, along with a penny, a nickel, and a spare bit of metal.
What in the world?
A football, a Frisbee, and several dog toys waited neatly in a bin, indicating more to Dawson than grumpiness and veiled invitations.