Page 61 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

“I didn’t say anything yet,” he continued and she ignored him, still setting out the food.

She pat his cheek. “I know what you were going to say.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“Seven o’clock. Town hall.”

“We have work,” he tried again.

“At seven?”

“Cars don’t observe business hours.”

“Neither does your mother.”

Jax looked toward me. There would be no escape. Mom walked toward Carson’s truck, and her attention lingered over it.

“That James’s?” she asked, touching the edge of the hood.

“Yes.”

“How’s Carson?”

The question was different from Dad’s. Mom didn’t ask how the ranch was doing. Or what the truck needed. She asked about Carson.

“Still pretty guarded.”

Mom glanced at me. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“She seems…tired.”

The admission felt too personal once it was out. But it was the truth. Mom considered that, her head tilted and lips pursed.

“Evelyn always worried Carson would take too much on,” she muttered.

I moved to stand beside her. “Did you know her well?”

“Carson?”

I nodded.

“She was always running somewhere.”

Mom looked toward Dad with a smile. “Remember that orange bandanna?”

Dad grunted. “Told him about it.”

“Wouldn’t take it off for an entire October. Said it made her faster.”

“That makes no sense.”

“She was fifteen.”

“Still.”