Cowboy Take Me Away(56)
The music crescendoed, signaling the start of the hymn. Carson adjusted the hymnal and she noticed his bruised and scabbed knuckles.
Her head snapped up and she caught sight of his handsome face. Her insides knotted, seeing his swollen and cut lip, the gash by his eyebrow. Another slice on his cheek. He had a serious shiner around his right eye, and bruises on his jawline.
What had happened to him last night?
When she realized she was staring and not singing, she tried to focus on the hymn. But Carson once again distracted her, his voice a deep rumble as he sang quietly beside her.
The hymn ended and the liturgy was recited. He didn’t need to read along as he seemed to have it memorized. He had no problem knowing when to kneel. He knew the prayers. His motions were automatic, as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
Why hadn’t she known that Carson had been raised Catholic?
She knew so many other things, hot and sweet and sexy things—please Lord forgive me for letting my mind wander to such carnal thoughts during church service, amen. But why hadn’t she asked about his core beliefs? When her religious beliefs were such a large part of who she was?
Because you gave up your virginity to him within a week of meeting him. He probably thinks you don’t have those core beliefs. Actions speak louder than words, remember?
Carson shifted to get to his billfold when the usher shoved the collection plate in front of him. She dropped a folded bill in the same time Carson did and their fingers brushed.
A jolt of awareness shot through her.
When Carolyn didn’t jerk away, he considered that her approval to hold her hand.
How much of a pushover are you?
But she liked that he’d reached out to her—in more ways than one. Giving him the cold shoulder in church, where she’d learned to turn the other cheek, would make her a hypocrite.
The service ended and people started to get up.
She faced him.
His eyes were so somber.
“Carson, why are you here?”
“To ask for your forgiveness.” He allowed a ghost of a smile before he winced in pain. “Figured I’d ask for God’s too while I was at it.”
“I didn’t know you were Catholic.”
“Baptized and confirmed in the Catholic Church in Sundance. Both my mom and Dad were Catholic. Mom made sure we went to church pretty near every week. After she died… Then we stopped goin’.” His eyes searched hers. “We need to talk. You pick where that happens.”
“Fine. It’ll be somewhere isolated so I can yell at you without everyone thinking I’m a crazy person.”
Another slight smile was there and gone. “I deserve every bit of whatever you dish out.”
They waited to shake hands with the priest, a fairly young guy. Thoughtful and kind, he welcomed Carolyn as part of the congregation even when she only attended services a few times a year.
“Carolyn. I’m so happy to see you brought a guest today.” He beamed at Carson and offered his hand. “I’m Father Dorian.”
“Carson McKay.”
“Are you from around here, Mr. McKay?”
“Sundance.”
“Ah. I’ve filled in for Father Balough a few times at the St. Ignatius.”
“I don’t know him. Father Summerall was in charge last time I went.”
“That’s been a few years.” He paused and Carson seemed to tense, as if waiting for Father Dorian’s judgment on his poor church attendance. “Which means we’re very happy to see you return to the fold. God’s blessings on the day to both of you.”
Carson kept his hand in the small of her back, steering her toward the door. He plucked his hat off the rack, settled it on his head and they stepped outside into the breezy summer morning.
“Father Dorian surprised me.”
“Because he’s so young?”
“No. Because he seems happy bein’ a priest. I know from experience they’re not all like that. Some of ’em are downright mean.”
“I’ve had a few old-school priests at St. Mary’s. But Father Dorian is just as wonderful as he appears to be. He comes out to the house to give my mother communion since she’s unable to attend services.”
He led her to his truck and opened the passenger door, assisting her up since her skirt restricted movement. Unlike last week, he didn’t try and cop a feel or steal a kiss or make a suggestive comment.
He was acting very un-Carson like.
Then again, he hadn’t acted like himself last night either, so it wasn’t all bad.
They arrived at Founders Park, which hadn’t been overrun with children yet. Again Carson was a gentleman, assisting her down the sidewalk to a picnic table beneath several large oak trees.