by Barb Han
“With everything going on, the town’s nervous. I get that. I’m planning to stay over at the McGregor house until things cool off for her. You think you can handle things on the ranch if I have to be away for a few days?” Nate realized he was needed but hoped for a couple of days to stay with the McGregors.
Deacon was quiet for longer than Nate was comfortable.
“She have a kid in Mrs. Eaton’s class who just started a week or two ago?” Deacon asked.
“Yeah. I forgot all about the possibility of her being in class with Connor,” Nate said. His mind hadn’t been on the family lately. He’d been too busy being irritated with himself for falling down a trap with a woman so callous she could lie about her sister being ill. Maybe that was the connection he felt toward Chelsea? They’d both been lied to and deceived.
Granted, Nate had allowed it to happen. He should’ve kept his eyes open. The breakup with Mia had been his call, but he’d been trying to figure out how she’d outsmarted him for as long as she’d gotten away with it.
It hadn’t taken that long to recognize her pattern. As soon as he’d figured her out, he’d given her walking papers. Nate figured the reason he’d allowed himself to think about settling down with one person was the happiness several of his brothers had found with their wives and kids.
But, hey, that kind of commitment wasn’t for everyone. That was why he couldn’t stop questioning his own judgment when it came to Chelsea. She was nothing like Mia. The two didn’t even compare. Mia had been quick to try to lock Nate in while Chelsea seemed ready to put on her running shoes every time they bumped into each other in her small but cozy kitchen.
“Am I cutting out?” Deacon’s voice came through loud and clear.
“No. Why? What did I miss?” Nate had no plans to share that he’d been lost in thought over Chelsea. Deacon would have a field day teasing him about that slip.
“I was saying that I can cover for you for a few days. Wish I could offer more, but we’re drowning right now and we need all the help we can get.” Deacon paused. “I’ve heard good things about the little girl from Connor. He talks about the new girl and says she’s quiet but nice.”
Skylar had touched Nate’s heart, too. Those big, round eyes, gap-toothed smile and curly locks could melt an iceberg. “Good to hear that she’s making friends,” he responded. “It’s got to be hard to be the new kid in town.”
“Yeah, we never had that growing up, but I saw it in Connor when he first came to live at the ranch.” Deacon was in the process of adopting Leah’s son even though Connor would always carry his real father’s last name.
Connor’s father had passed away from an incurable disease and, by all accounts, had been a decent man. Roger had died never knowing that his wife was pregnant because Leah had said she’d known it would break his heart. Roger had been abandoned by his father and had had a rough upbringing. By not telling him about his child, Leah had spared him the scars of feeling like he was abandoning his child. Roger never would have repeated the cycle of abandonment.
And that’s why Deacon and Leah had agreed to keep Connor’s last name the same even though he would have every right that came along with being a Kent heir. Connor’s last name didn’t matter. He was as much a Kent as any of them and no one would look at him any differently.
Nate had seen the way having a child had changed Deacon for the better. His brother was happy in ways Nate couldn’t begin to explain. The same went for Mitch and Will. They’d found true happiness.
“Well, I’ve gotta get going, Nate. If you need any one of us we’ll be right there for you,” Deacon said.
“You know I appreciate it,” Nate stated and he meant it. His brothers and sister having his back meant the world to him.
He and his brother exchanged goodbyes.
He thought about Chelsea and her mother. They’d done well without having much of a support network. Their love for each other was obvious. Linda was a hoot and she loved her daughter. There was something broken about her spirit, though. Nate figured there was a story behind it.
Zach wrapped up his call a minute later. “That Deacon who called you?”
“Yeah. How about your call?” Nate asked.
“Mine was from Patty. She’s being flooded with calls after the fire with people wanting details. Everyone assumes the fire was arson and somehow connected to the heifers,” Zach advised.
“Chelsea thinks she was hit before the fire started. That pretty much ensures it was arson, doesn’t it?” Nate wasn’t following the line of thinking about this crime being connected to the heifers.
“I’m with you. Captain Benton will probably rule arson.” Zach lifted his hat and wiped sweat from this forehead with his arm sleeve. “Town’s already in an uproar over the hooves.”
“It’s been a while, but someone who chops off a heifer’s hoof isn’t going to graduate to setting fires.” The logic didn’t work.
“You and I know that but try to tell Ray Royce that. Or Betty Orson. People worry and then that worry turns into panic. None of which will help us figure out who’s behind any of this.” Zach put his hat back on his head. “I have some calls to make.”
A white van caught Nate’s attention as it slowed in front of Chelsea’s house. Nate and Zach exchanged glances.
A young-ish man popped out of the driver’s side and opened the side door to the vehicle. He pulled out a large bouquet of flowers and balanced them on his arm while he pulled the door shut. When he turned toward them, Nate recognized the partially blocked face as Sammy Orr. Sammy was in the same grade as Amber, if Nate’s memory served and he worked for the town’s florist.
“Flowers?” Zach said almost under his breath. “Did Ms. McGregor mention dating anyone?”
“Not to me.” Nate searched his memory. Nah, he’d know by now if she was seeing someone, wouldn’t he? They’d shared one helluva hot kiss and he didn’t make a habit of kissing a woman already in a relationship. He wouldn’t think too highly of Chelsea if she’d allowed that to happen while she was seeing someone else, either.
Sammy stopped short of climbing the couple of stairs to the porch. “I have a delivery for Chelsea McGregor. I’m guessing she’s just moved in. Nice to see the Barstock house occupied for a change.”
Nate took a proprietary step forward. The bouquet was massive. It almost completely blocked Sammy’s face as he walked up. “Who sent them?”
“Someone by the name of Renaldo Vinchesa.” The delivery driver shrugged. “Is Ms. McGregor home or can I leave these with one of you?”
“I’ll take it,” Nate said. The bouquet was filled with at least a dozen roses. There were other flowers that he recognized but couldn’t name to save his life. The scent was sweet and romantic, and pretty much a slap in the face.
“There’s a card in there,” Sammy said.
Nate handed the bouquet to Zach and then fished out a ten to tip.
“Thanks,” Sammy said with a quick smile and a wave.
Nate waved and clenched his back teeth.
The conversation he needed to have with Chelsea couldn’t wait.
* * *
CHELSEA SAT ON the sofa in the living room, watching out the window. Rofert was asleep at her feet. There was so much comfort in having him around. She saw a delivery man hand off the biggest, most beautiful bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen. Her mind snapped in a couple of directions. None made sense.
Nate walked in the front door, his expression serious. He didn’t seem any more amused than she was that the flowers had showed up. Oh. She realized why. He’d think they were from someone she’d dated in Houston. Maybe he thought she was still seeing him?
A piece of her was tickled that he seemed upset about them. Did he like her more than he was letting on? He’d kissed her and then kept his distance. She figured that he must’ve regretted it.
But the
rest of her figured the flowers were from Travis.
“Who are those from?” she asked.
He set the bouquet on the coffee table and took a step back like it was a bomb about to explode. That shouldn’t amuse her, either. It did.
“Renaldo Vinchesa.”
“What?” Shock didn’t begin to describe her reaction. The timing of these flowers struck her as odd, especially after his threats.
She pushed up to standing so she could walk around the bouquet to find the card. Nate must’ve realized what she was doing because he stepped forward and located the card for her.
The note inside read “Forgive a fool. Best of luck with your new venture.”
He’d signed the card and she could vouch for his signature. She’d seen it many times on purchase orders for the restaurant back in Houston.
She blinked up at Nate as she returned to her seat, card in hand. “He’s my old boss.”
“Yeah, I remember.” His feet were positioned in an athletic stance, his arms folded across his massive chest. He was in a defensive position, like he was fortifying himself for a physical blow.
“We had a purely professional relationship,” she clarified.
“It’s none of my business.” Those words felt like a physical blow.
Based on his stoic expression, he didn’t believe her.
Chapter Thirteen
“Don’t you think it’s a little odd that he threatened me when I left the restaurant and now sends flowers out of the blue after someone knocked me in the back of the head and then set my restaurant on fire?” Saying it out loud made it even more horrific to Chelsea.
Her restaurant was in ruins. All the progress she’d made so far was down the tube and she needed to start earning money soon.
Worse yet, she didn’t have the funds to buy another fire pit to cook the pizza or the cabinets that had arrived and had been waiting to be put up. She hadn’t bought insurance yet. An umbrella plan was unlikely but her best bet. Her only bet?
Nate moved to the couch and sat next to her.
While she had his ear, she continued, “I can show you the texts on my phone if you don’t believe me.”
The sound of tires on the gravel drive interrupted them. Nate was up in a heartbeat, checking out the window. “It’s your mother.”
Chelsea let out the breath she’d been holding. Her pulse jacked through the roof at the slightest noise. Rofert stirred but Nate settled the huge dog down with a few words and a scratch behind his ears.
Chelsea bit back her second yawn in five minutes.
“I thought you were going to take a shower earlier.” He eyed her up and down. “We can talk about your old boss after you get some rest. It was a long night.”
“I was going to take a shower but...” She hated to admit the reason she hadn’t done it already.
“Did something happen? A noise?” Nate’s concern caused her heart to squeeze.
“I was scared to be alone in the house.” She couldn’t look him in the eyes while she felt so vulnerable.
He tilted her chin so she’d be forced to make eye contact. “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
The back door opened and her mother called out.
“In here, Mom,” Chelsea said, the interruption breaking the moment between her and Nate.
“Hello, Nate,” Linda said as she entered the room.
“Ma’am,” Nate said.
“I better clean up.” Chelsea pushed up to stand. She was weak and had to stop at the end of the couch to gain her balance.
“Take my arm.” Nate wrapped one arm around her waist for support.
She held on to his muscled arm, wishing she could pull from his strength. He helped her up the stairs, one at a time, and to her bedroom. She welcomed the heat rushing through her body from the contact even though it was a bad idea to get used to it.
He turned his back, granting her privacy when she took off her clothes and put on her bathrobe. Luckily, that thing was so long it practically dragged the floor. She was keenly aware of just how naked she was underneath it when Nate stood next to her, helping her to the bathroom.
The past twelve hours had started taking a toll and exhaustion wore her to the bone.
“Will you wait upstairs?” Her fear was irrational, and she would find a way to get over it. For this moment, though, she needed to be around someone stronger than her.
“Yeah.” His voice had that low gravelly pitch that sent sensual shivers skittering across her skin.
She closed the bathroom door and then leaned against it. The weight of last night’s events hit her full-force and her knees threatened to buckle. Nothing could happen to her. Where would that leave her mother and Skylar?
Rather than get lost drowning in a vat of self-pity, Chelsea pushed off the door and started the water.
It was then she heard the floorboards creak and realized that Nate had waited for her. It was also then that she realized how much trouble she was in when it came to her feelings for him.
* * *
“I UPDATED ZACH on the situation with your former boss. He checked his notes and remembered you mentioning him on the first day he spoke to you,” Nate said to Chelsea. She was fresh from the shower and had that clean, flowery, spring-like scent.
She sat next to him on the bed and her fragrance filled his senses, causing a reaction in places that didn’t need stirring.
Nate needed to get a grip. He tried to convince himself that his reaction to her, naked and smelling like the first sunny day after a spring shower, was because he hadn’t been out on a decent date since his relationship with Mia had ended.
But that wasn’t entirely true. He hadn’t been out seriously since Mia because no one had interested him and certainly never as much as Chelsea.
“Here.” He lifted the covers. “Get into bed.”
She shot him a look and he laughed.
“Don’t worry. I don’t go anywhere I’m not invited.”
“That’s not the problem,” she said so low he almost didn’t hear her as she climbed under the comforter.
He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the same nerves as an inexperienced teenager.
“What is it about your mother’s picture that made you have the reaction you did earlier?” He’d been curious about it, but the chance to ask hadn’t presented itself.
Chelsea relaxed her shoulders a little, sat up and pulled the covers to just below her chin. She kept a piece of material in between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand.
She was a lefty? Curious. So was Nate. It surprised him that he hadn’t noticed already. Especially since he’d noticed the right dimple on her cheek when she smiled. Then there was the freckle above her lip. Her soft skin and big eyes. He’d thought about all of those things more than he cared to admit.
“My father took that photo. My mother says he was creative and so talented.” She shrugged but her eyes said the statement was anything but noncommittal.
“What happened to him?” Nate asked.
“That’s the question of the hour. He literally went out for milk one day a couple of weeks before my second birthday and never came back. I don’t think my mom was ever truly happy again.” Her voice cracked a little, like the pain was still raw even after all these years.
“Sounds like a good reason to stay single,” he quipped before thinking.
She frowned.
“I’m just saying I’d rather be single my whole life than suffer through a disappointment that punches a hole through someone’s heart like that would.” He realized in that moment that Chelsea had suffered through a similar fate.
Damn.
She shrugged again. “I guess. I’ve never experienced anything near that level. Not even when I was married. I cared about Travis, but
I was young when we met and probably naïve. It didn’t help that I was so busy working my food truck business that I didn’t go out much. I didn’t really know what qualities to look for in a person. Guess I wasn’t looking for anything substantial. Then I got pregnant. Turns out you can’t take an antibiotic and expect the birth control pill to work.”
She gave him a look that was equal parts adorable and frustrated.
“It still hurt like hell when he took off. The weird thing is, I don’t think I was all that angry that he left. I was frustrated for Skylar. But I was more upset about losing everything I’d worked so hard to build. It never occurred to me that anyone could be so cruel. I look at people in a different light now,” she admitted.
“Who wouldn’t? Being deceived is a sucker punch. Especially if you care about the person who pulled one over on you. You don’t have to be in love for that to hurt,” he said.
“How would you know?” She bit back another yawn.
“That’s a story for another time. Right now, I just want you to get some rest,” he returned.
Chelsea had slid lower so she was lying down again.
Self-control was not normally a problem for Nate. But it was taking every ounce he had not to lie down next to her. She needed sleep. If she invited him into her bed, neither would get any rest. He could take the hit. She couldn’t.
He started to get up but she grabbed his arm.
“Will you stay in here until I fall asleep?” she asked, releasing his arm.
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll stick around until you wake.” There was a wing-backed chair in the corner of the room that he could get comfortable in.
He looked back at her in time to see her smile as she closed her eyes and released her grip on the blanket.