This Place Called Home: Includes Bonus Story! (Forget-Me-Not Ranch)

by Sara Richardson

  “I’m so glad to hear it.” Agatha pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. “The stew is ready, and I’ve warmed the bread too.”

  “I can smell it.” She wasn’t sure Agatha had heard over the growling in her stomach.

  Mack sat down. “You’re going to have to let me do something for you in exchange for going to so much trouble on my behalf.” She lived in a world where strings were attached to every good deed. She didn’t know how to accept kindness without giving something back.

  Agatha made a facial expression like she was going to refuse, but then she surprised Mack by saying, “I’m sure we can work out something.”

  The woman dished up their food from a large pot that sat on a hot pad in the center of the table.

  Mack tried not to act too eager, but it all smelled so good, she couldn’t resist digging right in. The first bite of stew melted in her mouth, the meat tender and savory. She stopped herself from gobbling it up too quickly by looking around the great room. “This is such a nice house.”

  “It could be nicer if Nash would put some thought into it.” Agatha buttered a thick slice of bread. “At least a picture on the wall or something. God knows we have plenty of them around.”

  Mack studied the blank walls. “Why do you think he hasn’t put one up then?” She had to admit she was curious about the man. So far all she knew was that Agatha’s nephew was the practical sort and he smelled good.

  “Nash is not at all what you’d call sentimental.” Agatha thoughtfully munched on a bite of bread, giving Mack that chance to eat more stew. “His mother left when he was only eight, and his dad never recovered from the heartbreak. Died of a heart attack just when the boy needed him the most.”

  “That’s terrible.” She wanted to ask why his mom left, but it hardly seemed to be any of her business. She was the intruder here. It wasn’t like she had any right to know his story, especially since he didn’t even know she existed.

  “It changed him,” Agatha said sadly. “Turned him into an adult too fast. After his mom left, I tried to get him to play. I’d make up all these imaginary games, but he didn’t want anything to do with them.”

  She poured them each a full glass of iced tea from a pitcher. “He lost himself in his work, that one. He’s still losing himself in his work, if you ask me.”

  “I can understand that.” There was a certain security in having work to do—in having a focus. She’d worked so long and so hard she’d started to feel stir crazy on the weekends when she didn’t have meetings and deadlines and emails to write. So, she’d go into the office to work more.

  It had given her an excuse to ignore those feelings for too long. The doubts about Evan, the dissatisfaction with her life. Honestly, working felt easier than confronting the things she’d known weren’t quite right.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes and Jasper settled himself right on her feet.

  “Nash is lucky to have you though.” She might not know the man, but she knew this woman sitting across from her loved him. Everything about Agatha told Mack that she knew how to love someone. If she could care for a stranger with such warmth, she must really make an impact on those she loved.

  “I’m lucky to have him too,” Agatha said. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and tossed it into her empty bowl. “He’s a good man. His actions are a bit misguided sometimes, but his heart and his intentions are good through and through.”

  Knowing Agatha had helped raise him, Mack didn’t doubt it. “This meal was incredible.” Maybe because she’d been so hungry. But also because it was hearty and warm and it filled her up from the inside. “I really appreciate you bringing me here. Letting me stay.”

  The woman’s eyes lit. “You’re staying then?”

  “I was thinking maybe for a few days at least. Just until I can sort through things in my own head.” And in her heart. So she could finally confront that discontent that had sat heavy and solid in her gut for months.

  Agatha reached across the table and gave her hand a supportive squeeze. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. I really mean that. I count it as a blessing to have you here.”

  Those words brought tears to Mack’s eyes. “I can help out,” she said, though she didn’t have much to offer. “With the animals. Or any projects you’ve got going on. And I’ll have my assistant wire some money for groceries and things.”

  “That’s really not necessary, sweetheart.” Agatha rose and started to clear the table, but Mack quickly jumped up to take over.

  “At least let me do the dishes.” She could be every bit as stubborn as Agatha. “I’ll only stay if you let me repay you in some way. Like I would at a hotel or something.”

  “Oh, honey.” The woman waved her away from the sink. “This place is no hotel. ”

  No. It was better than a hotel. “I’m serious.” She wedged herself between Agatha and the sink. “I expect to repay you for room and board.”

  “If you must.” Agatha moved out of her way, but she did continue to clear the rest of the table while Mack scrubbed the dishes. After the last plate was in the dishwasher, Agatha took off her apron. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll show you around before it gets too dark.”

  “I’d love a tour.” Mack hung up the dishtowel and caught a glimpse of her bare feet. Oh. Right. All she had for shoes were the baby blue wedding stilettos, and she was pretty sure none of Nash’s shoes would fit her. Just as she turned to tell Agatha as much, the woman dashed over with a bag.

  “I bet these’ll fit you perfectly.” She reached in and pulled out a pair of yellow polka dot rubber boots exactly like the ones she wore. “I had an extra pair,” she said, handing them to Mack. “The company accidentally sent the wrong size at first. They told me to keep ’em.” A smile beamed. “I’m really glad I did.”

  “Me too.” Otherwise, she’d be tromping around the mountains in her wedding stilettos. Mack hurried to the couch and sat down, pulling on the boots and admiring how well they clashed with the plaid boxer shorts and the red hoodie. At least she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew. It was kind of nice not to worry about seeing anyone.

  “They fit perfectly.” She stood up and tromped out the door in her squeaking rubber boots.

  The air had cooled in the descent of evening. With the sun half-sunk behind the mountains, a hush had fallen over the meadow…even the birds had quieted.

  “We can start in the stables. That’s where all my larger loves are.” Agatha somehow traipsed gracefully down the steps in her boots while Mack clunked behind her looking ridiculous in her makeshift outfit.

  “I should probably go to town and buy some clothes tomorrow.” She did her best to keep up with Agatha.

  “Sure. We have one heck of a nice thrift store in town.” The woman paused and waited for her to catch up. “You might need a good pair of tennis shoes too,” she said smiling.

  “And some jeans.” Her legs bare legs were chilled.

  They rounded the corner and ducked under a fence where three horses were lazily grazing on the green grass. “In here we’ve got Big Ben.” Agatha pointed to the large black horse with bristly whiskers.

  “This is Fancy Pants,” she went on, patting the brown one. “And this here is Mystique.” The spotted horse nuzzled its nose into Agatha’s shoulder. “I took them in a few years ago when a ranch down the way got caught mistreating their animals.”

  “They’re adorable.” Mack had never had much to do with horses. She’d ridden on the beach a few times while on vacation, but that was the extent of her equestrian experience.

  “They are incredibly sweet,” Agatha agreed, kissing Mystique’s jaw. “Can’t imagine my life without any of my animals.” She waved Mack into the stables. “This is where we keep the chickens and the ducks.”

  She opened the door to a nice sized room where colorful chickens strutted around pecking at the dirt. “In here they’re safe from predators.”

  “Right.” The place was so beautiful it wa
s easy to forget there were bears and mountain lions likely lurking nearby.

  Agatha picked up one of the chickens, but instead of squawking and trying to get away like Mack assumed it would, the hen settled contentedly into the woman’s arms. “You have a lot of animals then,” she said, reaching over to pet the chicken. She couldn’t say she’d ever petted a chicken before.

  “Yes.” Agatha gently set down the chicken. “Three horses, four goats, eight chickens, three ducks in this area, and in the other barn we have a Jersey cow and calf along with a few pigs. All of them were in need of homes, so I took them in.”

  Mack had lost count of how many animals that added up to. “You keep this up all by yourself?” That had to be a full-time job. Not to mention the work that went in rescuing and rehabilitating the animals.

  “I do my best.” Agatha walked to a bag of seed and scattered some across the ground. “I never want to turn away an animal in need. I love it. Every minute of it. Though it’s gotten harder lately.” Mack waited for her to explain, but she didn’t.

  “Do you take donations?” Of course, her mind went right to the money. Her father had drilled finances into her since she was old enough to balance a checkbook.

  “Donations?” Agatha laughed. “I don’t have the time or the smarts to set up anything formal. Sometimes locals hand me money on the street, but other than that, we don’t bring in any money.”

  Mack didn’t even want to ask how much the woman spent on feeding and caring for all these animals. “You really should set yourself up as a nonprofit,” she said instead. The analyst wheels in her mind started turning. “You have a lot of animals here. There are so many people who are willing to help animals in crisis.”

  Every time she saw one of those commercials about neglected animals on television she always made an emotional donation.

  Agatha waved her off. “I wouldn’t even know where to start with all that.”

  “Well, I do.” And helping her with creating a nonprofit would be the perfect project to work on while she was here.

  It would be the perfect way to pay Agatha back for her kindness.

  Chapter 4

  Rain drove into the windshield, blurring the headlights that passed Nash’s truck in the darkness.

  The constant pattering only added to his jumbo-sized headache. It had been a hellish drive home. First high winds in Southern Wyoming, and then torrential rain ever since he’d crossed into Colorado.

  After hours of navigating waterlogged roads, all he wanted to do was stumble into his house and fall into bed to sleep away the tension and exhaustion pounding in his temples. It had taken him hours to get everything covered and ready for the next rodeo event.

  He hadn’t left the arena until well after seven o’clock and right now it felt more like four o’clock in the morning than midnight.

  He slowed his truck to avoid hydroplaning as he made the sharp right turn onto the Forget-Me-Not Ranch driveway. The name was a mouthful if you asked him, but Agatha had never liked change. That should make his mission here real fun.

  The truck’s tires bounced in the grooves and potholes on the driveway, sloshing through the watery ruts. Years of erosion and weather had washed out parts of the driveway—yet another thing that needed to be fixed around here.

  It would cost a good ten grand to get a grader out here. They’d have to put down some gravel too. Really, it would be best to pave the whole damn thing, but he didn’t even want to know how much that would cost.

  It didn’t matter. They didn’t have the money to fix up the place—or to even maintain it. That fact had never been more evident to him than when he’d gotten the call from the bank. Once he discussed their predicament with his aunt, hopefully she’d agree the time had come to sell.

  Not bothering to drive around to the detached garage, Nash parked as close to his front porch as he could get, grabbed his bag, and made a run for his front door. By the time he got up the porch steps, rainwater dripped from his eyelashes.

  Shaking off the water, he tried the door, and sure enough, it opened right up. Agatha hadn’t taken to locking doors like he’d asked her to. She trusted just about everyone and everything. He’d given up on trying to talk sense into her a long time ago.

  Nash stepped inside and just about tripped over his aunt’s familiar rubber boots. Why would she leave her shoes around his house? Knowing her, she’d probably been cleaning or something.

  He nudged the boots aside with his foot and then slipped off his own boots before continuing on into the great room.

  A low rumbling growl sounded and Jasper came charging down the hall. “Hey Jas.” Nash dropped to his knees and let the dog jump all over him. “I missed you too,” he said, doing his best to avoid a slobbery kiss in the mouth.

  “What’re you doing in here?” Nash continued rubbing behind the dog’s ears as he stood up. “Were you messing with the goats again?”

  The last time his aunt had written him an email, she’d mentioned she was nursing her herd of goats back to health in her spare bedroom—yet another thing he’d asked her not to do. In his opinion barnyard animals belonged outside. Jas was usually good with the rescues his aunt took in, but the goats seemed to get on his dog’s nerves.

  Jasper gave off a low woof and then turned and lumbered in the direction of Nash’s bedroom.

  “Exactly what I was thinking.” He followed the dog, navigating the darkness. No use in turning on lights when he was just going to strip off his clothes and fall into bed. On his way through the bedroom door, he pulled off his coat and shirt, tossing them into a pile by the dresser. Next, he lost the wet jeans, stepping out of them and leaving them in a heap on the floor. He’d deal with the clothes tomorr—

  A high-pitched scream cut through the silence, sending his heart hurtling up his throat. Nash spun to the bed, where a shadowy figure flailed in the darkness.

  “What the hell?” He hit the light switch on the wall and the brightness shot a pain clear through the backs of his eyeballs.

  “Oh my god. Oh my god.” The figure on the bed—a woman from the sound of the voice—started hyperventilating.

  Nash blinked everything back into focus, letting his eyes adjust to the light. There was indeed a woman in his bed. She’d pulled the covers up to her chin, but he could see a nest of wild blondish hair, and wide frightened eyes that seemed to be staring directly at his chest.

  “What the hell?” he said again, mainly because here he was standing in his underwear in his bedroom in his house and this random woman was gasping and staring at him like he was the intruder.

  The headache that had plagued him all the way home suddenly got about ten times worse. He could’ve asked her what she was doing in his house, but he had a feeling he already knew.

  A surprise like this had dear old Aunt Agatha written all over it.

  Shock coursed through Mack in hot and cold spurts, making her sweat and shiver at the same time.

  A fight or flight instinct suddenly kicked in. Flight! She wanted flight! Mack scrambled to get out from under the covers and leaped off the bed, but her leg got tangled in the sheets and she ended up rolling headfirst to the floor.

  “Easy.” The man—Nash, she would presume—walked over and reached out a hand to help her up, his face completely expressionless.

  Mack hesitated. This could all be a very bad dream. Maybe she wasn’t awake. Maybe this was a fantasy. Yes, this had to be a fantasy. The real Nash Campbell could not be this gorgeous. Agatha had called him practical. She’d made him sound boring, so Mack had pictured him with a forgettable, uninteresting face, dull eyes, and unfortunate hair.

  She had definitely not pictured dark wavy hair, chiseled features, and the smoky blue eyes that stared down at her right now.

  Agatha had also neglected to mention all the muscles one might have missed if the man were fully dressed, but he was standing there in a pair of black boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination.

  “Did you hurt yoursel
f?” Nash asked impatiently, still holding out his hand in her direction.

  Wake up, Mack silently told herself. Time to wake up!

  Seemingly tired of waiting, he rested his hand on a sculpted hip. “Do you speak English?”

  “Of course I speak English.” She hadn’t meant to snap, but his eyes, which had originally appeared smoky and dreamy, had taken on more of a condescending air.

  “Well, how was I supposed to know? You didn’t answer my question.” A tic worked in his jaw like he was trying too hard to control his facial expression. “Did you hurt herself?”

  “No.” Luckily this time she’d fallen on her head instead of on her already scraped knees. “I’m fine.” The shock of waking up to a man in his underwear may have taken a good ten years off of her life, but she’d never let him know it.

  She pushed herself off the floor, submerging a grimace behind what she hoped was a look of determination.

  “Are those my underwear?” he asked the second she stood up.

  Humiliation prickled in her cheeks and a reasonable explanation jumbled in her mind. “Your aunt…” Mack finally mumbled. “She kind of rescued me from a…situation.”

  “She has a tendency to do that.” Based on his tone, he didn’t consider that one of Agatha’s best qualities.

  Anger crowded out her embarrassment, bringing the emotion on her face to a boil. Agatha was kind and good and one of the most amazing people she’d ever met. “I’ll have you know I ran out of gas and then I tripped and fell at the gas station—ruining my wedding dress—and your aunt very kindly invited me here so I could get cleaned up and have a good night’s rest before facing tomorrow.”

  Nash still wore an unreadable, deadpan expression. “Your wedding dress?”

  She really should’ve left out that fun little detail. If she’d been thinking clearly, she would have. None of this made her look good. He’d likely already decided she was crazy and/or pathetic.

  “It’s a long story.” And something told her he wouldn’t care anyway. “You know what?” Mack swept past him. “I’m going to go. It’s fine. I can drive back to Denver tonight.” Of course, she’d have to go to her parents’ house because she couldn’t very well show up at her and Evan’s condo…