Finding Home (Roped by the Cowboy Duet Book 1)

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Finding Home (Roped by the Cowboy Duet Book 1) Page 10

by J.C. Valentine


  But then she remembered that it had never been much of a comforting place. Her parents weren’t uncaring people, but they weren’t the warmest either. They might be concerned about her well-being, but it was nothing a quick phone call wouldn’t fix. What she was really longing for was familiarity.

  “I’ll contact them later to let them know I’m fine.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like this,” Andrew tried again. He glanced down meaningfully at her suitcase. “If you come with me now, we can fix this. Put the whole thing behind us and move forward. You wouldn’t have to live like…this anymore,” he said, wrinkling his nose up at the house.

  Sure, it wasn’t the lap of luxury he was used to living in, but Vivian had long since shrugged off the shock of rural life and was finding it more suitable to her sensibilities than that stuffy museum Andrew called a home.

  Behind her, Gretta snorted and uttered a few choice words that weren’t at all becoming of a woman her age but that Vivian knew were par for the course. Gretta had a sailor’s mouth. She just used it quietly so only those nearby knew how dirty it could get.

  “I like it here,” she informed Andrew, refusing to buy into the offer he presented. That he thought she was as stuck up and materialistic as he was, was…well…

  It may have been true once, but it had never been the real her. Vivian enjoyed fine things, but she wasn’t beholden to them or that type of lifestyle. At least, not anymore.

  The quickness and ease with which she’d adapted made her hope that she was at least marginally better than the man who stood before her with his nose stuck in the air. And if she wasn’t? Well, then she was standing witness to everything she didn’t want to be any longer.

  “Looks like you’re headed out?” Andrew observed, a challenge in his voice.

  Vivian looked down at the suitcase and then guiltily up at Nash. His stoic expression offered nothing in return.

  Did he want her to stay or go? Was he disappointed in her or had he expected her to leave all along? The most painful thing was not knowing.

  Take a risk, she heard the little voice inside her head whisper.

  “What I do or don’t do is no longer any of your business,” she informed him, then bent to pick up her suitcase. “I’ll be inside if anyone needs me,” she turned to tell Gretta and Nash.

  Gretta nodded, a worried expression on her face and shifted to allow her to pass. Nash said, “I’ll make sure this one gets where he needs to go.”

  While Vivian wasn’t sure what, exactly, he meant by that, she didn’t stick around to ask questions. One way or another, she figured he was going to make sure Andrew left, which was best for everyone because she had a feeling that she was going to be doing a lot of explaining shortly, and she wasn’t looking forward to any of it.

  FIFTEEN

  “You know what they say about eavesdroppers,” Gretta scolded lightly.

  As soon as Nash had run Andrew off, they called Vivian downstairs for the expected chat. The living room was calm, comfortable with the unseasonably temperate breeze blowing through the open windows, save for the massive elephant in the room.

  “Listen long enough,” Gretta continued, “and you’re bound to hear something bad about yourself.”

  “Except nothing that was said was about you,” Nash asserted. His blue eyes were stormy, filled with irritation, something Vivian had grown used to seeing in them when directed her way, but they also held something else—disappointment, maybe.

  “I’m sorry,” Vivian repeated for the hundredth time since she’d sat down on the couch across from the two sets of judging eyes.

  “Why the heck were you leaving anyway? And without saying goodbye?” Gretta asked, sounding sad.

  Vivian felt a pit in her stomach yawn open wide. She looked down at her hands, unable to meet her stare. “I just thought it would be better for everyone if I left.”

  “Whatever for?”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell. “I’m not like you all. I don’t really fit in here. Plus, I just sort of showed up one day and imposed myself on you. Then with everything Nash said… It just seemed like the right time to go.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Gretta admonished. “You fit just fine. Everyone likes you, even sourpuss Nash here, even if he’s too stubborn to admit it.”

  Nash scowled in response but didn’t try to correct her.

  “And you’re no imposition,” Gretta added firmly. “If ya were, I’d have shoved a boot in your ass a long time ago. You better believe that!”

  Vivian smiled, believing her completely. She didn’t mince words. The woman was a viper.

  But that still didn’t clear up the question of what she’d heard.

  Vivian found it a struggle to find the right words to express what she needed to say. “I know you two say that I misheard or misunderstood, but I can’t help how it made me feel. Not after…” She trailed off, some deep-down part of her knowing she was barking up the wrong tree, but she had nothing else to base her assumptions on.

  “After what?” Gretta asked, looking between her and Nash. “What did I miss? Someone better get this old woman up to speed before I get my boot in order.”

  Nash and Vivian smiled to themselves, entertained by Gretta’s feistiness, but one passing glance at each other, and they quickly sobered.

  “I kissed her,” Nash admitted, shocking Vivian. She hadn’t expected in a million years he’d admit to it, even though that was exactly what she’d assumed he’d done and had been bemoaning earlier.

  “You what!” Gretta shouted, and slapped her knee as she erupted in guffaws. “Well if that ain’t the best news I’ve heard all week. ‘Bout damn time, too! I thought I’d never get you two bullheads together.” She rose from the chair she’d been occupying and started toward the kitchen.

  “Where are you goin’, Ms. Gretta?” Nash asked after her as he, too, stood to follow.

  Vivian figured she might as well do the same, and got to her feet, too.

  “What do you mean where am I goin’? This calls for cheesecake!”

  Vivian’s stomach rumbled at the mention of her favorite dessert, and her step may have picked up a bit. As tumultuous as her emotions were at the moment, she couldn’t deny herself the savory treat that was being so freely offered.

  “Christ, Ms. Gretta,” Nash cursed as he dutifully moved around the kitchen to collect plates and forks for the three of them, “you act as if I just announced we’re gettin’ married.”

  Pivoting, holding a spring-form pan covered in foil pulled fresh from the refrigerator, Gretta shot him an excited look. “Maybe not now, but it’s comin’. Mark my words!”

  At the long farm table they’d shared so many meals at, Vivian claimed a seat while Nash set out the plates and utensils and Gretta revealed the cake that looked as good, if not better, than any New York cheesecake Vivian had ever enjoyed.

  “Careful you don’t slip,” Nash said as he sat down. “Seems you lost a few more marbles.”

  Gretta reached out and slapped his arm. “Oh you! You should be ashamed of yourself, pickin’ on a helpless old lady.”

  “Helpless, my ass!” Nash snorted. “You’re as wily as that damn coyote on TV.”

  Gretta grinned at that. “Just one of the many great things I picked up from my momma. Another is being a fantastic matchmaker.”

  Nash rolled his eyes and held out the plates, one by one, for Gretta to load a heaping slice of cake onto. “Now don’t start with this again. It was just a simple kiss, right, Vivian? Nobody’s marryin’ anybody.”

  Vivian cut a piece of cake with her fork and shoved it into her mouth, deciding to stay out of the conversation. Nash seemed to be handling it just fine on his own. Besides, she was curious to hear his answers.

  “You’ll see,” Gretta said confidently as if she could determine the future.

  Dropping the subject, Nash turned his full attention on Vivian. “So tell us who that man was and what he was doing here. I assume he’s your husban
d.”

  Vivian swallowed hard and took a moment to collect herself. “Well, first off, he’s not my husband anymore. The divorce was granted a few weeks ago.” Her admission raised their brows, but she continued. “As for why he just showed up on your doorstep? I have no idea. I don’t even know how he found me, let alone why he even tried.”

  A little white lie never hurt anyone, right? Come Monday morning, she planned to look into it and see if there was any truth to what he’d said, but no matter the outcome; in her heart of hearts, they were divorced. That’s what mattered. And if Andrew was telling the truth? The fix would be quick and simple. Nothing to worry about or stress over.

  “Sounded to me like he was lookin’ for a second chance,” Nash surmised.

  “Well, he’d better keep looking,” Vivian replied earnestly. She had zero intentions of ever revisiting that situation.

  “Seems like you carried everything you own in this world with you into this house,” Nash went on. “You mean to say you haven’t given even a little thought toward going back to him?”

  There he went again, seeing her as the stuck-up, money lover from the big city. Narrowing her eyes on him, Vivian said, “He could have all the money in the world. It wouldn’t make up for the fact that we’re completely incompatible. I’d rather be alone the rest of my life than to ever return to that life with him.”

  “He prefers nuts in his fruitcake,” Gretta said as casually as if she’d just announced the sun was shining outside.

  Nash appeared taken aback. “Um…what?”

  “Nuts,” she repeated. “He’s prefers them.”

  Vivian coughed into her hand to cover the laugher that bubbled past her lips. Gretta. She certainly had a way with words.

  “He’s gay?” Nash asked, shocked.

  “As queer as a three-dollar bill,” Gretta confirmed.

  By now, Vivian couldn’t hold back her laughter. Her face red, she let it run free, claiming Nash’s attention, and the look on his face only made her laugh harder.

  “How did you find out?”

  “Caught him in the act,” Gretta filled him in. “‘Course, she didn’t wanna get too close, but some things don’t need a magnifying glass to be sure what’s goin’ on if you get what I mean.”

  “They were… He was…” Nash gulped. “With another man?”

  “In our bed,” Vivian confirmed, waving the tears from her eyes.

  Nash’s wide eyes suggested he needed a moment to take in all of the new information. “Holy hell…” he murmured. “Is that why you’re all the way out here?”

  Sobering at last, Vivian poked at her cake with the fork and nodded. “I had to get as far away from there as possible.”

  “I would say so.”

  “I didn’t expect to be here,” she added. “I was just going to drive until I couldn’t anymore. See where the road took me.”

  “Seems to me it took ya right where ya belong,” Gretta said, and when Vivian looked over, she met her soft gaze and felt the warmth of acceptance wash over her.

  Was it true? Did she really fit in there?

  “I can’t help feeling like an outsider. Everyone knows everyone here, and I’m just some city girl rolling through in a fancy car… I stick out like a sore thumb.”

  The room filled with echoing silence as everyone absorbed her words, and then Nash said, “The car isn’t really all that fancy. Now my truck, on the other hand…”

  “Really?” Gretta said. “The girl is being serious and you wanna talk cars? Typical man.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Maybe I should introduce you to Bubba,” she directed at Vivian. “He’s a real nice boy with some common sense—”

  “Hey!” Nash complained.

  “If the shoe fits,” Gretta singsonged.

  Nash just scowled while Vivian smirked. When he looked up from his cake and caught her eyes already on him, the corners of his mouth curved up in amusement, too.

  Vivian’s stomach danced nervously as she stared into those rich baby blues, recalling that kiss, as simple as it was, and how it’d made her feel.

  Yes, he might be a moody jerk sometimes, and he might be a touch difficult to read other times, but there was definitely something special about Nash MacArthur. Something Vivian wanted to get closer to. Something she wanted to touch more of.

  Hopefully, he’d let her.

  SIXTEEN

  Andrew hadn’t left town. In fact, he seemed to have settled in and made himself at home among the locals.

  In the days that passed, there was constant talk about the rich man from the city, and the rumor mill was abuzz with all kinds of theories.

  All of them pointing directly at Vivian.

  It didn’t take a genius to link them together. They were the newbies, the only two people in the borough to drive in with an expensive car and clothes. They did, in fact, stick out like a sore thumb. And now Vivian was once again tied to the man she wanted nothing more to do with, whether she liked it or not.

  She was trying her best to avoid him, knowing Andrew was slithering around town like the snake he was, which meant she wasn’t leaving the house. She’d spent the last several days since he’d arrived so unexpectedly on Gretta’s doorstep cleaning the house from top to bottom and learning everything she could about the art of cooking.

  But today, Gretta was putting an end to it.

  “You need to get out of the house. You can’t hide forever,” she told her as she grabbed the cleaning rag from her hands and hid it behind her back. As if Vivian was going to fight an elderly woman? She shook her head as she looked up at her from the floor she’d been polishing.

  “I’m not hiding,” Vivian attempted to lie, but Gretta gave her a withering look that told her she was full of it.

  “Yes, you are, and I’m putting an end to it. Besides, I need cherries for dessert tonight. And bourbon because…well, just because. I don’t need to explain myself,” she said with an air of superiority and a dismissive wave then shoved a piece of paper at her that had ‘Shopping List’ printed at the top in her trembling scrawl. Likely the only thing besides her appearance that revealed Gretta’s advanced age.

  “You do realize that I’m an adult and can make my own decisions?”

  “Yes, I do, but while you’re under my roof, I’ll kick you out whenever I please. Consider this your eviction notice for the next hour. At least,” Gretta told her.

  Vivian’s expression soured, not liking the command and even less the prospect of going outdoors where she might cross paths with her ex. She couldn’t think of anything that could ruin a good mood faster than seeing his smug mug. But she didn’t see where she had much choice in the matter. Gretta was right: it was her home, and Vivian had to leave when she said so. Fulfilling her shopping list was a courtesy and a small favor to ask in exchange for room and board.

  She only wished that Nash was around to go along—

  The front screen door squealed open and slapped closed. Vivian peeked her head around the corner and, speak of the devil… A bright smile spread across her face, and when Nash spotted her, he immediately knew something was up.

  “What?” he asked, hesitating in the breezeway that cut between the main-floor rooms.

  Vivian made a slow approach, holding the note in the air. “Gretta needs some things from town. Think you can give me a ride?”

  A confused frown marred his features. “What’s wrong with your car?”

  As Vivian scanned his tall, lean body, she could see that he’d been working hard, probably in the fields, definitely with the horses—or maybe just one in particular. As bad as she should feel about asking him to take the time away to escort her to the market, she needed the support too much not to.

  “Nothing, but I thought it would be nice to have some company. Plus, it’s lunchtime. My treat?” she added, hoping to spice up the offer enough that he wouldn’t say no.

  Suspicion colored his face as he studied her. “Is this about your husband?”

  “
Ex,” she corrected him. Then she sighed. “He’s been lurking around town, and I don’t love the idea of running into him.”

  Nash smirked. “So you want to use me as a bodyguard?”

  Vivian pursed her lips, playing at innocence. “In a manner of speaking.”

  Nash watched her, his expression typically stoic and exceptionally hard to read. Finally, he said, “Fine, but I’m taking you up on lunch.”

  “Deal,” she said readily.

  “I’m in the mood for steak,” he warned.

  “Only the best,” she promised, making a cross with her fingers over her heart.

  “All right, you’ve convinced me,” he said teasingly. “Go hop in the truck. I gotta run something by Gretta and then I’ll meet you there.”

  Vivian’s knee-jerk reaction was to ask what he needed to talk to her about, but she held back, not wanting to pry. Her nosiness had already gotten her into trouble once. She wasn’t eager to go for a second round.

  Thankfully, Nash didn’t make her wait too long in the late-summer heat. Even with the windows down, she felt like a fried turkey.

  With a small, friendly smile, Nash turned the car around, and they drove down the long driveway toward town. As the minutes ticked by, Vivian couldn’t help revisiting that conversation in the kitchen not so long ago. She still hadn’t gotten clear answers as to what he’d been discussing that had been bothering him so much, and she wanted to know.

  Everything about Nash MacArthur was worth knowing about, and Vivian felt like, since they seemed to be growing closer, she had the right to ask. So she did.

  “So…” She trailed off, and Nash raised his eyebrows in questions, waiting for her to continue. “You never did tell me what you and Gretta were talking about.”

  “Just now?” he asked, somewhat confused. “I was just asking her what she wanted done with the pull barn. A few boards need replacing, but she seems right to keep it as is until next summer, which I think is a bad idea. Money’s tight, though, considerin’ the price of grain went up again.”

  “No, not that,” Vivian stopped him. “I meant the other thing.”

 

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