Rough Road Home (The Circle D series) (24 page)

The interior of the barn was clean and orderly. Spotless farming equipment angled along bright green fence panels and various implements stacked up and down walls, whatever space wasn’t occupied by stalls and bales. She drew a deep breath of dry, sweet alfalfa and grass hay.

Zac stalked across the middle of the barn as Jason raced across to the bales of hay stacked up across half the barn. Huge six-foot-plus rectangular bales stair-stepped up to the rafters. Rachel could pull her weight with seventy-pound bales but not these monsters. She looked around. “Where’s the feed stored?”

Nick grazed the top of her head with his lips. When she looked up, he stole a quick kiss. He nodded toward a plank door behind them. “Fill a bucket with grain and give each horse a scoop — use the green scoop, they’re all different measurements.”

A grin tugged at her lips. “Bossy aren’t you?”

“I guess I am.” He stole another kiss. “Now, off with you.”

She kept her eye on him he crossed to where Zac and Jason stood. The nurse had told her to watch him walk and Rachel was more than happy to comply. His easy stride appeared more relaxed and as confident as she’d ever seen. She bit her lip to keep from sighing. What was it about this man that made her long to stay at his side even as her instincts screamed for her to run away?

As Nick called out, Jason answered from the top of the haystack. Zac grabbed a length of loose twine and helped Jason grab the busted bale of hay before it tumbled down to Nick. Obviously, they had a system that hadn’t changed over the years. Good thing Nick remembered the routine because Zac never stopped to ask, he just hefted flake after flake toward his brother.

Rachel reached the grain room and grabbed the scoop. As she lifted the lid on the bin, the scent of oats, corn, and sweet molasses brought an unexpected smile to her lips. Chores come first; can’t let the animals starve. The mantra was no different from ranch to ranch.

She found that oddly comforting.

As she scooped grain into a bucket, her lips still tingled with the feeling of Nick’s kiss. When had he become her object of desire rather than a responsibility? All along, she’d kept him in the neat confines of her mental corral where all rodeo cowboys belonged. Safe. Far enough away where they couldn’t hurt her, yet close enough for her to secretly admire their tenacity.

From the moment she’d met him, she knew Nick was different. She’d sensed he rode for reasons different than the average rodeo cowboy, though she refused to admit it at the time. And he’d proven her right, but only after miles of road and hours of talk had trust for him wormed its way into her heart.

Catching a glimpse of Nick tossing flakes of hay into a dented wheelbarrow, Rachel couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride fill her chest. Nick was just like her father, yet completely different. They both poured their hearts and souls into their passion making the rest of life take a back seat. Yet, where her father chased the buckles and the points needed to qualify for accolades, Nick commanded her respect and admiration by simply focusing on the task and giving it his all.

Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with the right man who was every kind of wrong for her.

“Hey, are you going to watch us work or feed those horses?”

Rachel snapped back from her discouraging discovery as a wicked smile spread across Nick’s face. Yep, she’d fallen hard. “Nice to see you still know how,” she sassed back, the feeling of renewed life surging through her veins. She’d never wanted to love a man like her father, but Nick wasn’t her father. He was Nick.

Following the line of stalls, she finished pouring rations and returned the bucket and scoop. The scent of molasses hung in the air as she wiped her hands on the towel above the feed bunk, her gaze trailing over cans of liniment and salve, along with a couple of containers of horse treats. The Davidsons had a soft spot for their four-legged friends.

Warmth spread through her, tugging her lips into a smile. She shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

Lord, what am I supposed to do with this?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Breaking open the last bale of hay, Nick took the twine and wrapped it around his hand. “Can you take it from here?”

Jason nodded, his brows drawn tightly together causing a shallow crease. “A flake for each horse.”

“I can see why Gabe keeps you around.” Nick reach out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Good job.”

“Chores come first.”

Nick grinned. Melanie’s son was becoming the spitting image of Gabe, beginning with work ethic. Nick didn’t know if that was good, or bad. “It’s good to see we have another man around. I’m going to round up the rest of the help and make sure there aren’t any slackers.”

A toothy grin broke across Jason’s face. Without a word, he grabbed a flake of hay and moved to the first stall.

Nick crossed the barn, the weight he’d been carrying for so many years seeming to slide off his shoulders. The sights, the smells, the memories of chores he’d hated yet loved all at the same time came crashing around him. It felt good to throw hay, the sweet scent of baled alfalfa filling his nose and the solid weight testing his muscles. Riding bulls tested his endurance with each ride, but nothing compared to the effort it took to complete worthwhile tasks.

Over the course of a week, so many things suddenly mattered to him. The top of the list was a cute brunette with a sassy way of challenging him to remember the important things in life and hold tight to them because life was too short not to.

The door was open to the grain room. Nick stepped up to the threshold and found Rachel staring at the storage shelf, an odd smile causing her cheek to dimple. “Something funny?”

The tips of her hair brushed her collar as she shook her head. “Horse treats.”

“Yeah?” Stepping up beside her, he tried to connect the significance. “Treats for horses.”

“I just didn’t expect to find any treats -- much less, my brand of cookie.”

He reached up and grabbed the green tin and set it on the top of the bin. “Your brand, huh? Don’t tell me you’re a closet alfalfa roll muncher.”

Brows shooting up, she nudged him with her elbow and reached into the metal container holding the sweet mix. “I’m a molasses cluster muncher.” Pulling out a chunk of oats rolled in molasses, she popped it into her mouth. The muscles of her jaw worked as she chewed and then swallowed. “My dad used to get so mad at me for eating the sweet grain. He’d tell me I’d get a wormy stomach if I didn’t stop. I guess I have an iron gut because I never got sick.” She popped another chunk into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. “I like the oats and grains, not the corn kernels. Too hard on the teeth.”

Her grin showed off perfect teeth and Nick couldn’t help himself. He dipped his head and captured her lips, the lingering taste of molasses still on her breath. Leaning into him, Rachel twisted around until she fit into the crook of his arm and her hand trailed up to his collar, her fingers burying into his hair.

He didn’t want to fight the attraction anymore.

“Thank you,” he said as he brushed a kiss on her forehead and held her close.

“It was just a few horses.” She pushed back, her emerald eyes light with humor. “I still know my way around livestock.”

Pressure built in his chest. “Not for feeding. Thanks for sticking with me, even when I was less than pleasant.”

Her grin widened. “Less than pleasant? Cowboy, you’ve been a pain in my rear for most of this trip.” Her gaze softened and her arms wrapped tighter around him. “But I think I should be thanking you.”

“Why?” His heart beat faster at the thought that maybe she felt the same as he did. “Do you think maybe we finally can agree on something?”

She nodded. “For the love it.”

Oh, Lord, thank you for this gift.
“I do love you.

Rather than the long, luxurious kiss he’d anticipated, Rachel froze in his arms.

“You love me?” Her emerald eyes grew round.

The heat that had spread through him just a moment earlier turned to ice in the pit of this stomach. “Isn’t that what we’re talking about?”

She pulled away even as he desperately wanted to hold her in his embrace. “Nick, you helped me figure out why my father risked his life riding bulls. Neither one of you does anything half-way. Once you find the zone, you fill it with your own brand of determination and nothing can dissuade you.” She stopped her tirade and stared at him as if she’d just figured out a baffling puzzle. “You expect the best out of yourself. One hundred percent. The best.”

Would he never learn? He’d misread the signs and he certainly wasn’t going to do that again. Folding his arms across his chest, Nick held his grin in place by sheer force of will. “Gotta love a gal who doesn’t shoot a guy for being ornery.” The brightness of her gaze faded as her brows quivered in question. He’d let his emotions get the better of him . . . Again. He had to make sure she understood. “Guess you’ll go back to work with some great stories about your cowboy fling.”

Silence hung between them. If she didn’t say something soon, he knew he’d start apologizing and making matters worse. So, Rachel had been fighting to come to grips with her father’s rodeo lifestyle, using Nick to work her reasoning through? Well, he’d been used by the best before. Apparently, he’d served his purpose. Too bad his heart had gotten in the way.

“Yeah, great stories.”

Her flat words stung as if she’d slapped him across the cheek. She’d used him for therapy. Could he say he’d done any different? Not every ride went the full eight seconds. He ought to know. “We better not keep them waiting. I don’t want my nieces born in the folks’ kitchen.” He stepped aside and let her pass.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

* * *

Having changed out of her wet clothing, brushed the hay from her hair and calmed her pounding heart, Rachel sat on the edge of the bed in the guest room and stared at her cell phone. How many times had she called Tom Everitt to explain her absence? Too many. He’d never answered a single message she’d left for him. She hadn’t wanted to bother Maddie over the weekend. Her stomach twisted into a knot. The never ending saga of the Elk Mountain Range snowstorm continued to play out. Unfortunately, it was past time to go home.

Nick had made it perfectly clear. Her services of caretaker were no longer needed.

The tips of her fingers curled around her phone in complete frustration. She replayed the hours she’d spent with Nick riding around on the ATV making tracks through the pristine snow. They’d hiked through the surrounding forest, watched for winter wildlife that hadn’t gone into hibernation, they’d even had a snowball fight.

And they’d kissed in the bright sunshine. A kiss that sliced through her cynical view of cowboys and ignited a moment of truth in her soul. A kiss that made her think she could fall in love with a rodeo cowboy, just as her mother had.

Last night, he’d even made her feel part of the family. Then this morning, it all went south. He'd talked of love; she'd talked of love. But they weren't speaking the same language.

Good thing she'd figured that out before investing her heart in a relationship akin to a leveraged ETF complete with a narrow focus, high leverage, misleading labeling, and emotional inefficiency.

She shook her head, trying to quell all the sensations splintering apart in her gut. Served her right to have her heart broken. She’d shattered her number one cardinal rule: never fall for a rodeo man. Self-sufficient fools thinking they needed no one. Yet, that dogged stubbornness made her love Nick all the more.

Thankfully, he’d brought her to her senses. Love her? The cowboy didn’t know how.

Sanity returned and all was right with her world once again. She would return to her normal life. She’d plant her feet on solid ground instead of the cowboy dream she’d been living. Dream? More like a nightmare.

Fingering each number before she pressed the buttons, she forced herself to call the office. Get back to normal and her life would straighten out. Three rings.

“Good morning, Bates, Everitt, Joyner and Associates. James Allen’s office, may I help you?”

Her greeting caught in her throat. James Allen? She couldn’t possibly have heard right.

“Hello?” Maddie repeated.

“Maddie. It’s me, Rachel.”

Now the silence hung from the other end. “Rachel, I need to transfer you to Human Resources. Could you hold, please?”

“Wait, Maddie.” Rachel panicked at the indifference in her assistant’s voice. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“One moment,” Maddie hesitated. “I’ll transfer you.”

“Maddie! Wait, you have to tell me. You owe me!”

“One moment, please.” The line clicked and Rachel was on hold. The connection crackled in her ear and Rachel prayed the call wouldn’t be dropped. Jim Allen? She couldn’t have heard right. The firm probably wanted to reduce the confusion for her clients until she returned.

The line clicked again. “Rachel?”

“Maddie! What’s going on? Why are you answering for Jim?”