“Do you think you’ll ever remarry?” she found herself asking.
He didn’t flinch or start yelling, so she considered that a good sign. Placing both feet flat on the ground, Nash considered her question while feeding Maxine another apple.
“I haven’t gotten that far, to be honest. I’ve just been taking each day as it comes, and when all that consists of is work and more work…”
She got it. His head wasn’t in the future. He was just focused on getting through each day.
“Would you ever consider it?”
After a moment, his gaze found hers. “It’s not off the table. But it would take someone pretty special to make me walk that aisle again.”
It was Vivian’s turn to look away this time. “Same here.”
And in the silence that followed, she knew Nash understood where she was coming from, too. They were separated by different worlds and circumstances, but they connected on a basic human level that anyone who had experienced heartache could relate to.
“Do you wanna go for a ride?”
Vivian’s eyes widened in shock. “Depends. Do you mean in your truck or…?” She pointed a wary finger at Maxine, who was suddenly looking pretty damn scary in the failing light.
Nash chuckled. Kicking a foot over the fence, he climbed inside the pen. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little horse.”
“She’s not little!” Vivian protested. “And she doesn’t like people. You said so yourself.”
Taking Maxine by the reins, he steered the horse toward the locked gate. “She might not be a people person, but she does know how to follow orders. And she trusts me. It’s all about trust.”
When he reached her, Maxine towering over his shoulder, those big, black eyes shining as she stared down at Vivian, Nash asked softly but with a hint of challenge, “Do you trust me?”
Did she? Vivian hadn’t even reached the point that she felt she could truly trust herself, so how could she trust anyone else?
But even as she thought it, she knew that some part of her did trust him. Nash might still be a virtual stranger—they hadn’t yet overturned every stone and outed every skeleton in their closet to one another—but she knew in her bones that he was an honest and honorable man.
Putting a smile on her face and summoning her courage, Vivian said, “Show me what you’ve got, cowboy.”
EIGHTEEN
There was fun, and then there was fun.
Vivian had never had so much of it in her life, especially all concentrated in one place and time. Who knew riding a horse could be so exhilarating?
“I haven’t been on anything this fast since…since Andrew bought me my Porsche!” Hair whipping in the breeze, bodies bouncing and rubbing together intimately, she held onto Nash’s trim waist tightly, allowing her hands a sneak peek of what was very clearly a set of fine six-pack abs.
Nash laughed, the deep sound of it reverberating through his chest and back, the sweet sound making it to her ears despite the rhythmic gallop of hooves beneath them and the blur of wind rushing past them.
“She’s nowhere near as fast as that fancy little car of yours,” he shouted back.
He was right, she was sure, but it sure felt like it. Out in the open field, going at a steady clip, she couldn’t put an actual speed to it, but she felt as if someone had rolled down the top of a convertible, opened the engine on the Autobahn, and let loose.
In short, she felt absolutely amazing.
“I’ve never felt so alive! Is this how it always is for you?” If so, she would never drive a car again.
“The way it is for you right now? Only at the beginning,” he informed her, “but it’s still the best feeling in the world, every day of the week.”
Vivian cinched her arms around him tighter, wanting to prolong their time together, this moment. She was finally starting to see the appeal of a life in the country. It wasn’t just that it was slower paced or that the people were friendly or even that it was a totally new experience to absorb.
She felt as if this was where her life had finally started. The day that tire had ruptured and forced her onto the side of the road had been the push button triggering something wonderful. She hadn’t realized it then, but it felt as if she’d spent her whole life in a hazy dream world and she’d only now woken up.
In spite of all her doubts, being on the back of the horse with Nash, galloping around in the night under the light of the moon, was just what she needed.
It finally felt as if she fit somewhere. Not because of her clothes or the car she drove or the house she lived in or the connections she had, but because of who she was, the person inside—and the person she was becoming.
It was a feeling she didn’t want to end.
Nash pulled on the reins and made a clicking sound with his tongue, and Maxine slowed to a trot. A sense of fear and dread set in. If they stopped riding, would the bubble on such a perfect evening burst?
“Can we keep going?” Vivian asked, her voice small. “Just a little longer.”
Nash’s hand flatted over hers against his stomach. “As long as you want.”
Relieved, Vivian turned her head and rested her cheek against his warm back, imagining she could hear his heartbeat beneath her ear.
In reality, it was probably just the sound of the horse’s hooves impacting the dirt, but it didn’t hurt to pretend.
This was what it was supposed to be like, right? Falling for someone, taking refuge in their embrace, in their very presence? Carlene had been one lucky woman to have Nash’s heart that beat so fiercely in his strong chest. Vivian wondered if she knew how blessed she’d been—still was.
She didn’t even realize she’d dozed off until the horse stopped moving altogether and Nash’s fingers wrapped around hers, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“We’re here, sweetheart. Time to wake up.”
“Ughhh,” Vivian moaned. “Just five more minutes?”
Nash chuckled at her attempt at sounding like a whiny child. “Nope, ‘fraid not. Time to get up so you can go to bed.”
Forcing herself to pick her head up, Vivian waited for Nash to extricate himself from the saddle and hop down. He turned immediately and extended his arms to help her down.
“That saying never made any sense to me,” Vivian commented as she accepted his help and returned to earth.
It was strange being so low to the ground after being up so high for so long.
“Yep, but it’s true.” He flicked his gaze up toward the stars hanging above their heads. “It’s late.”
“And you need your beauty rest,” she said, nodding in understanding.
He smirked. “Not as much as you, darlin’.”
Vivian let her mouth drop open in feigned offense. “How rude!”
“Hey,” Nash said as he unbuckled the saddle, “you started it.”
She certainly had, and Vivian couldn’t help smiling. They were teasing one another, rather than arguing or throwing insults or the hint of one. “Yeah, well, keep it up, and I’ll tell Ms. Gretta on you.”
“Oh!” Nash jeered. “Bringin’ out the big guns, I see. You play dirty.”
Vivian’s mind nose-dived straight into the gutter. “You got that right, cowboy.”
Nash had been in the process of guiding Maxine toward the barn when he stopped cold and stared at her as if in shock. Shocked with herself, Vivian forced herself to remain strong under the weight of his penetrating stare, allowing her fears and insecurities to filter out through the hand she used to pet the horse’s flank.
Maxine, however, didn’t seem to appreciate being used as a buffer and snorted her disgust. Or maybe it was impatience. It’d been a while since she’d gotten one of those apples she seemed to like so much.
Shaking his head as if to clear it, Nash said, “I’m going to put her in her stable. When I’m done, you feel like joining me for a cup of tea?”
Putting her hands in her short’s pockets, Vivian rocked on her heels, feeling a touch
shy. “Sure, that sounds nice.”
His grin was wide. “Stay here. I’ll be but a minute.”
Vivian didn’t dare move an inch.
***
When Nash had suggested tea, Vivian just assumed he would be serving it hot and in a mug. Not a tall, clear glass filled with iced sweet tea.
“So…you don’t have Earl Grey either?”
“I don’t even know what that is,” Nash said as he poured them both another cup. They were sitting in wicker rockers, the white paint faded and peeling in places, on his front porch. He’d dragged them out from the parlor inside, sighting he usually kept them there now because he didn’t want the weather to beat them to death. Now that he had company over, he had an excuse to bring them out.
Vivian felt a touch special.
“What is your preoccupation with tea?” Nash asked, genuinely curious.
“Nothing. I just assumed you meant hot tea, not iced.”
“It’s summer. Why in Hades would I serve it hot? Hell, ‘round here we have iced tea even on the coldest winters.”
“In the winter, too?” Vivian asked, shocked. The idea of being surrounded by snow and below zero temps with a cup of ice cold anything in her hand made goose bumps erupt down her arms.
“Vivian, sweetheart,” Nash condescended, “sweet tea is the nectar of the Southern gods. One simply does not drink anything else.”
A laugh bubbled past her lips as Vivian started back at him. “My god, you are really serious.”
“As a heart attack.”
She shook her head. “Well, at least it’s good tea.”
“Have you become a believer? Have I swayed you to our way of thinking?”
“I like it cold, but no one will ever take my hot tea away from me unless they pry it from my cold, dead fingers.”
“Morbid.” Setting his half-empty glass on the floorboard beside his rocker, Nash looked out over the dark expanse of yard before them. Rather, what they could see of it beyond the half-moon swath of light cast by the porch light. Vivian had no idea, so far from the city lights, what pitch-black truly meant, until she arrived in the country.
If she stepped off the porch, she doubted she’d be able to see her own hand in front of her face.
Which reminded her…
“Well, if it wasn’t late before, it sure is now.” She scooted to the edge of her chair and waited to see if Nash would pick up her meaning.
“Yep, it sure is. Well, be careful walkin’ home.” He stood and stretched those long arms to the ceiling and yawned.
Dismayed, Vivian stared at him in disbelief. “You’re just going to let me walk off into the night? I could get lost out there! No, scratch that. I would get lost out there. And probably eaten by a bear.”
Laughing in earnest, Nash said, “You silly city girl, there aren’t any bears out here to worry about.”
Vivian felt some of her fear wane.
“It’s the coyotes that’ll tear ya apart.”
Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows hit her hairline. “And you’re just going to send me out there to fend for myself? Some gentleman you are, Nash MacArthur!”
“Aw, come on now,” he said, trying to soothe her even as his eyes danced with mirth. Reaching down, he took both of her hands in his and lifted her to her feet. “You know I wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Why, ‘cause your momma raised you better?” she mocked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she did.”
Vivian instantly felt like an ass. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He tucked a strand of hair that’d escaped her clip behind her ear. “Just get your rear in the truck, and I’ll see ya safely home.”
Vivian debated his sincerity for a nanosecond and then nodded. “All right. But take it slow. I don’t want to end up in a ditch.”
It was just so dark!
“I’ll go slow,” he said, and something in his voice captured her attention. “But not too slow.”
Unsure if he was flirting with her or not, Vivian took a step toward the stairs, only to be stopped by his rough voice close to her ear. “You’re in good hands, Vivian. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Biting her lip, she glanced back over her shoulder and caught his eye before he turned away to retrieve his car keys from inside. But it only took that fraction of a second to see the desire burning in them, a flame that called to the fire raging inside of her, the heat of it growing every day, threatening to consume her if something wasn’t done about it.
Soon.
But that night wasn’t tonight.
Vivian turned and descended the steps into the dark and the direction she knew the truck to be parked, all the while trying to put meaning to the words he’d spoken.
Was Nash telling her what she thought he was?
Did he intend for there to be more between them, or was he just trying to be a good friend?
NINETEEN
For the third day in a row, Gretta hadn’t been in the mood to make breakfast, so Vivian got up and did it herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it alone, but she still wasn’t completely confident in the kitchen. Still, she endured.
While the men chattered over work and life, Vivian and Nash exchanged occasional glances from across the table, Nash taking the seat directly in front of hers rather than on opposite ends as he had in the beginning.
That was promising, right?
Budding romances aside, they were both worried. It wasn’t like Gretta to rest beyond the cock-a-doodle of the rooster each morning. Hell, the woman claimed to always be up before that damn bird, but she’d never been awake enough to investigate to be sure.
“Are you going to the pull tonight?” Kenny asked Nash.
He blinked, his attention leaving the mountain of scrambled eggs that he’d barely touched. “That’s tonight?”
“That’s what the signs posted all over town the last month keep sayin’.”
Nash smirked at the man. “When the hell did you learn how to read, Ken?”
Every man at the table burst into laughter. Kenny said, “You know what?” and lifted his middle finger.
“Better not let Ms. Gretta see you flying the bird,” Nash warned. “She might snap it clean off.”
Kenny’s expression flattened, and he got back to eating. Amused, Vivian shook her head and finished the slice of buttered toast she’d been working on.
“What’s the pull?” she asked Nash, everyone else having gone back to their conversations and allowing them to talk privately.
“It’s just something the town does every year. A few of the farmers drive their special tractors down to the track and act like a bunch of fools.”
His highlighted version didn’t really answer any of her questions, but still, Vivian was interested. “Is it fun?” It had to be if the guys were looking forward to it.
Nash’s grin split his face. “Of course! Every man at this table attends every year. If you miss it, then you’re either sick or dead or dying.”
Her brows arched. “Then I’d better not miss it.”
“You best not,” he confirmed. “Say, you wanna go with me? So you don’t get lost, of course.”
Very seriously, Vivian repeated, “Of course. We wouldn’t want that.”
They shared a mischievous smile. She quite liked this side of him, agreeable and almost fun.
“So, what do you have planned for the day?” he asked her.
Since Vivian hadn’t heard anything through the grapevine about Andrew over the past couple of days, she hoped he had decided to return to the city and leave her alone. And since she couldn’t very well stay locked away in the house forever, she had told herself that morning that she needed to suck it up and do something with herself.
Gathering up silverware and napkins and loading them onto her plate to make everything easier to dispose of, she said, “I was thinking about heading into town. Maybe doing a little shopping.”
She hadn’t gassed up her car since the day she’d
driven into town, and she still hadn’t fully explored the place either. Since it’d stormed the previous night, the heat had finally broken, giving way to a pleasant morning and what the local news was promising to be an even nicer afternoon. Looked like fall was finally preparing to stick around.
“Well, you look out for yourself out there,” Nash said sternly. “Crazy drivers and even crazier exes… Never know what kind of trouble you might run into.”
“I think he’s moved on,” she told him as they carried their dishes to the sink together. “But I’ll be vigilant.”
One by one, each of the men brought her their plates. No need to scrape them into the trash, since they’d cleaned every bit of food from them.
Apparently, Vivian had worried over nothing. Her solo breakfast venture had been a success. Maybe Nash had been right, and she was getting better with practice. Although, she doubted she’d ever reach the level of professionalism Gretta had.
“Thanks for the grub,” a bruiser of a man they called Sheets on account of his pale coloring despite working outside in the sun all day said.
“You’re welcome,” she said with a pleasant smile. It felt good to be recognized for doing something well for once, as she’d never really done anything her old circle of friends might dub ‘menial.’
The men filed out, heading to work both in Gretta’s fields and what Vivian had learned were their regular jobs around town. She’d learned that when Gretta had lost her husband, she hadn’t been able to give the proper tending her land required alone, and on a fixed budget, that meant she couldn’t afford ‘round-the-clock care of it either. So the local laborers had banded together, each putting in a couple hours a day to help her out with feeding the remaining animals, tending fences and machinery, and so on, so she wouldn’t have to sell off any of her property. And Gretta used her garden to make those lovely pies and bring in extra cash by participating in the seasonal festivities.
The idea of it all warmed Vivian’s heart.
How so many good people fit into such a small place blew her mind. Was there a bad seed lurking anywhere here, or was everyone as genuine as they presented themselves to be?
Finding Home (Roped by the Cowboy Duet Book 1) Page 12