Megan must’ve sensed him looking because she smiled then turned her head. “So, this is what Nash Blackshaw does now every day?”
He rested his hands on the horn of his saddle. “I’m a lucky man. I get to stare at one helluva gorgeous view.” He winked.
She laughed softly, accepting his compliment. “I don’t do stuff like this enough. I can’t even think of the last time I jumped on a horse and rode. I’m really glad I stopped by right in the nick of time.”
He inclined his head. “I’m glad you’re here, Freckles.” Hell, this was pure selfishness on his part. He wanted to see her today. And with her working at night, and him working days, he knew he wouldn’t see her unless he went into the bar. That wasn’t enough for him. Not anymore. More and more, he felt tugged to get closer to her.
A cough came behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, finding the guests following him down the trail, with the chuckwagon rocking against the uneven ground they rode along. Ahead of him, Gus ran in front of the horses, well aware that once they got there, the guests would likely give him food. In fact, they’d been giving him so much food lately, Nash had to cut back his dog food. He was too cute for his own good.
With the sweet smile on Megan’s face as his only focus, Nash kept silent for the rest of the ride, giving her the peace he often found out on these rides. Because something was on her mind. Her silence told him that.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the edge of the cliff and Nash dismounted, a few drips of sweat running down the side of his cheek. The sun was hot enough to cook an egg on a rock. He wiped the sweat away and tied Bentley to the metal posts offering shade that he’d installed beneath the trees when he came up with this idea for the cookout. He took Major’s reins from Megan after she dismounted and tied him next to Bentley.
“Tie up your mounts here,” Beckett called to the guests, “then follow me to the lookout while lunch is prepared.” He turned to Nash and tipped his head with a grin.
Nash returned the smile. Showing the guests the gorgeous views of Blackshaw land had always been Nash’s job on the chuckwagon lunch. Nash owed Beckett a beer.
He removed his chaps, draping them over his saddle, then turned back to Megan, finding her heading in the opposite direction from where the guests were going, with Gus following her, his tail wagging. Nash passed the chuckwagon, then gave a quick nod at the chefs building the fire. Soon, though, everything else faded away while he watched Megan take a seat near the edge of the rocky cliff staring down at the treetops. From up there, the world always looked a lot different. Or, at least, it made Nash feel smaller and his problems less big. The air was cleaner. The world simpler. The smells richer.
He dropped down next to her right as Gus did, placing his head on her thigh. A sweet smile curved her mouth while she stroked the dog’s head, his eyes shutting.
Nash couldn’t look away. There was a heaviness about her today that he’d noticed growing more pronounced on the ride. Maybe Gus felt it too. “I know the saying is, a penny for your thoughts,” Nash said. “But I’ll give you a thousand bucks if you tell me what’s on your mind right now.”
He thought that might garner a laugh. He was wrong.
She glanced his way and watched him closely. “Are you happy doing this?” she finally asked after a loaded moment.
“Happy doing what?”
“This.” She gestured at the chuckwagon with a flick of her hand. “Leading this simple kind of life.”
Tightness formed in his chest, and he inhaled against it. He didn’t like talking about his past, present, or future. “It’s not if this makes me happy or not. This is what I’m doing right now, and I’m content with that.”
“But will you always be?” she asked softly. “Can a guy who was as competitive as you and who needed a lot of excitement do a job like this for the rest of his life?”
He searched her eyes, trying to find what she was getting at. One look into the uneasiness on her expression helped him understand. “You’re worried I’m going to be leaving again?” He hadn’t lived in River Rock while he was in the PBR, staying in Texas to train.
“It’s a thought that’s crossed my mind.” She glanced back at Gus, continuing to stroke his head. He began snoring. “So, really, it makes you happy?”
“Happy?” he repeated, pondering that single word. He wasn’t entirely sure, so he deflected. “Why do you think it wouldn’t?”
“It’s really”—she looked over his shoulder to the guests before returning her gaze to him—“boring.”
He snorted a laugh. “Don’t let the guests hear you say that.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, it’s not boring for, like, a vacation for someone who has never done this before. But for you”—her eyes searched his carefully—“for a guy who had a career in the most dangerous sport out there, this type of job seems entirely dull.”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” he admitted, wanting to move off the subject. “Right now, I’m focused on making the ranch a success.” He watched her eyes tighten, and he snorted a laugh. “And what about that has you so concerned?”
She drew in a deep breath before addressing him. “I don’t mean to push.” Yeah, she did. Nash knew that. “I guess I’m curious what your plans are now with the PBR in the past.”
He glanced away to avoid her gaze. Her voice was soft. Her questions were not. They were laser sharp, right to the point, and he shifted against the discomfort. The subject was a touchy one. He never talked about this to anyone, not even to his mother. Because he didn’t want the PBR to be something of the past.
He shut his eyes, swearing he could smell the dust circling in the air in the stadium and the popcorn coming from the crowd and hear the gasps of shock echoing around him.
“Don’t move, Nash,” Gerry said, pressing a hand to Nash’s chest.
Gerry’s big red nose was the first thing Nash made out, followed by the clown makeup. Searing pain suddenly shot through his back and down his legs, and he cringed against the agony ripping through his spine.
Trevor, a fellow bull rider, appeared, his dark eyes hard with concern. “The medics are coming, buddy. You’re all right. Stay still.” His hands pressed against the sides of Nash’s head.
All right, so he’d taken a bad fall. Crusher, the best bull in the PBR, had obviously bested him. That bastard.
Nash lay in the soft dirt, trying to piece together the last seconds. He recalled tightening the rope around his hand, the hot adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He remembered pressing his hat firmly against his head. He even recalled giving the nod to open the gates. After that, it was anybody’s guess how he’d ended up in the dirt.
His gaze finally connected with a woman in the crowd. Her hands covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
He closed his eyes.
Fuck, this was bad.
A soft cry returned him to the outlook cliff, and he glanced down, finding Gus had come to his side, watching him intently. Whenever Nash went back into the past, Gus seemed to be there to pull him out of it. He wasn’t sure what he would have done without his loyal dog. He reached down and stroked Gus’s big square head. “Things don’t need to be so serious. I’ll land where I land. Right now, I’ve got the guest ranch. I’m good with that.”
Megan gave him a knowing look. “Serious things call for serious emotions.” She paused then, and, like she’d always proven to do, got right to the heart of the matter. “You’re going to have to face what happened to your career and find a new way forward that makes you happy.”
He stared at her, at a loss for words. He never used to be that way. He had a dream. He went for it. And he’d succeeded at becoming a world champion bull rider.
“Lunch,” Beckett suddenly called, snapping Nash out of the spell Megan put him under.
“Thank God. I’m starving.” She rose then laughed. “Well, I’m always starving lately, but whatever.” She pressed a quick kiss to Nash’s lips then str
ode toward the others, with Gus following her.
Nash stared after her, a thousand things running through his mind. Their lives were changing. There was no stopping that. He wanted to change with her. Be the man she needed him to be.
But above all that, it occurred to him that he didn’t like how she saw him. That needed to change. And soon.
* * *
A couple of hours later, muscles that Megan had forgotten she even had hurt as they made their way back to the ranch, with her leading the way. She really needed to get in the saddle more. Today was the most relaxing day she’d had in a long time. For the past two years, she’d had her head down and worked her ass off to make Kinky Spurs a success. In that regard, she understood Nash perfectly. He worked hard now to make the guest ranch a success to save their father’s company from financial ruin. But Megan knew another truth: Nash was running from his past.
That truth was there in his eyes—the demons that he couldn’t hide from her. Demons that came from having everything he stood for and wanted ripped away. Those demons were another big obstacle between them. Because Megan wasn’t foolishly falling for the hot cowboy. She had already fallen for that hot cowboy, and Nash could hurt her.
Every step forward was with the baby in mind now. Hell, caring about Nash was easy. She could even trust that he wanted them to work. But believing in him was harder because he needed to believe in himself again before she could let herself go there. She hoped he would take her conversation to heart and face those demons, as much as she hoped the feud between him and her father would vanish. But she knew no one got anywhere being silent. And if one thing was certain, it was that she would fight for her happiness. On her terms.
Right as she crossed over the creek, Nash trotted up next to her on Bentley. He stared at her. Hard.
“What?” She laughed.
A beat passed. Then the side of his mouth curved. “Is this what I have to look forward to? You pointing out the shit that everyone else tiptoes around?”
She gave a knowing look. “Would you expect any different of me?”
He shook his head and exhaled deeply, resting his hands on the horn of his saddle. He stared off in the distance before that intense gaze settled back onto her. “This is tough for me. Talking about what happened. It’s hard.”
“I know it is,” she said gently, her heart leaping into her throat.
So many emotions crossed his expression, it was hard to identify where his head was at. But it was the acceptance in his voice that spoke volumes. “I’ll tell you about all the shit that went down with the PBR. Not right now. But soon. Can that be enough for now?”
She lost herself in the openness he offered. They’d never been in this space before, and it was all she wanted and more. “Not now . . . but soon.” Because that was what they needed. Steps forward. They didn’t need to be big steps, and she also didn’t need to have all the answers for what he planned for his future, but they needed to be real and honest steps. She smiled. “That’s enough.”
“Good.” He nodded firmly.
Right as her heart softened to him in a way she had not allowed before, his cell phone rang. He reached into the pocket of his Levi’s beneath his chaps. “Nash,” he answered the phone. Then the color slowly drained from his face. “I’m on my way.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked before he could even hang up.
He spun his horse around and called to Beckett, “Walk the guests back. We’ve got a fire at the ranch.”
Audible gasps came from the guests as Nash set his firm gaze on her. “Stay here.” Bentley shot forward at a full gallop.
Yeah, right. Not only had the doctor given her the all clear to continue riding, Megan didn’t doubt that Nash had put her atop a horse that was the safest out of the bunch. Never one to stay behind, she squeezed her legs, sending Major cantering with Nash off in the distance ahead of her. Every minute that passed only thickened the air with the awareness that the phone call wasn’t a mistake. Something was burning. And as Major’s hooves thundered against the ground, moving them quickly over the hill, the thick black smoke appeared in the distance.
By the time Megan arrived at the ranch, the barn was engulfed in flames, and Nash was off his horse, handing him to one of the cowboys.
Megan cantered right up to Nash’s mother near the house, as Jenny called out to Nash, “The kittens. I put them in a stall in the back to keep them safe while I tended to chores. The barn was empty, but the kittens . . . they’re in the barn!”
Nash’s gaze flicked to Megan’s. She shook her head, and yet wanted to nod at the same time. Those poor kittens, but Nash’s life could be at risk running into a burning barn. He inhaled sharply then ran straight for the burning building.
“Nash,” Megan yelled.
He never turned back.
Flames licked up the side of the barn, smoke billowing out of one of the broken windows.
A cold iciness slid over Megan as she carefully dismounted then offered the reins to one of the Blackshaw ranch cowboys, Butch, she believed his name was—he’d come into the Spurs a few times—who stood frozen in shock. “Here.” He slowly turned to her and blinked. “Take them,” she snapped.
Awareness returned to Butch’s dark eyes, and he scooped up the reins then turned Major away. Megan ran to Jenny, throwing her arms around her. “Oh, my God, Jenny. Are you okay? Is anyone in there?”
Jenny gripped Megan tight. Her voice blistered. “The kittens, Megan. I left them in there in their basket because they were sleeping. I didn’t want to . . . I left them . . .”
Tears welled in Megan’s eyes. Those poor little babies. “Nash will get them.” He had to get them. Nash did not fail. Ever. He was always the guy who came through when someone needed him. He was brave and loyal and all the things she wanted in a man. “He’ll get them. And he’ll get out safe,” she told both Jenny and herself.
“Dear God, Megan,” Jenny gasped.
The flames were so loud. The cracking of wood filled the air, as thick smoke made the oxygen vanish. “What happened?” she asked Jenny, trying to understand.
Jenny’s eyes were huge, face pale. “I don’t know. I was doing some cleaning. I thought I smelled smoke, so I came out front.” She clung to Megan, trembling. “It was only a small fire. I moved there to get the kittens when all of a sudden, there was an explosion and the whole barn went up.”
“An explosion?” Megan repeated, trying to make sense of that. She doubted there was farm equipment inside that required gasoline. The barn was too small.
Sirens had Megan glancing over her shoulder just in time to see River Rock’s firetruck racing up the driveway, along with a few police cars.
By the time Megan looked back, the side of the farmhouse had flames flicking up the sides.
“My home,” Jenny cried. “Not my home . . .”
Megan wrapped her arms around Jenny a little tighter, feeling helpless to stop any of it.
A whimper came at her feet. Megan grabbed Jenny’s hand then squatted down and wrapped her arm around Gus’s thick neck. The dog stared at the barn. “It’s okay, buddy,” she managed to choke out. “He’ll be okay.”
But where was Nash? Why wasn’t he out yet?
“This is taking too long,” she said beneath her breath.
The firetruck came to a hard stop and the firefighters jumped out of their truck, and it was a flurry of activity. Megan watched the barn’s door, counting the seconds that passed.
Where are you?
In a blink, the smoke somehow only grew darker, and Megan’s heart stopped beating for a single moment when suddenly there seemed to be no door. There were only flames. So many flames. There was no way out.
She slowly released Gus, ready to yell at the firefighters to go to the back to make sure Nash could get out, when another explosion cracked through the air, sending Megan stepping back.
No.
Tears made her eyes blurry at the reality unfolding before her. The entire front of th
e barn suddenly collapsed into flames and ruins.
“Nash.” She took a step forward, not thinking of anything but Nash and getting him out of there. Everything right then and there got real, and her belly fluttered, like the baby knew that her daddy was in danger. On instinct, she charged forward and screamed, “Nash.”
A fireman grabbed her by the waist. “It’s not safe.”
Gus growled and barked.
Megan shoved at the fireman. “Let me go. Nash,” she screamed. She couldn’t even look at the fireman to see who it was. Panic overtook her, a cold fright sliding straight down to her bones. No. No. No.
Another explosion cracked through the air, sending more of the barn crashing to the ground. Like the pits of hell opening up and swallowing her happiness.
She struggled against the fireman. “There’s too much smoke,” she bellowed. “He’s got no way out.”
“You can’t go in there,” the fireman snapped. “Let us do our job.”
He suddenly released her, and without his support, she dropped to her knees with Gus barking next to her. “Nash,” she breathed.
Chapter 8
The explosion shook the ground beneath Nash’s feet. Hot swirling flames licked the wooden beams above him. He crawled through the barn, unable to escape the blistering heat. Right as he’d entered the burning barn, Nash had questioned his sanity, rescuing kittens he’d never wanted. He still questioned his sanity now. And yet, he only knew he needed to get them out.
The roar of the fire was deafening as he crawled along the floor beneath the thick layer of smoke above him. The front barn doors were engulfed in flames. In fact, there wasn’t much of a barn left after the last explosion. He moved along, hoping to hell the kittens were where his mother had left them. Nash couldn’t recall a time when fear had crippled him. Fear had been something that always motivated him before. Fear woke him up and made him feel alive. When he felt that surge of anxiety, he knew he was pushing himself hard enough. In the PBR, he absorbed that intensity and used the ripe energy to win. Though now, crawling through the barn in flames, heat and smoke above him, he wasn’t only thinking of himself anymore. He was thinking about Megan, about his child, and about the kittens that desperately needed him.
Hard-Riding Cowboy (Kinky Spurs #3) Page 8
