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

by Sara Richardson

She wasn’t fickle and her relationship with Evan hadn’t been meaningless. But even with all that, every time she saw Nash her heart lifted, enveloping her in a sudden vulnerability she didn’t want.

  “You can’t tell what I think of you.” For maybe the first time in a week, Nash’s eyes met hers directly. His gaze held hers and something in his whole demeanor softened. “The truth is, I’m not sure what I think. I haven’t felt like this. Not for a long time.”

  He continued staring at her over another sip of his wine and then set the glass on the table. “But us…thinking about each other doesn’t make sense. We’re on opposite sides here. We live two very different lives. You were engaged to someone you must’ve been in love with, and it’ll likely take some time to get over that.”

  “Yes. It will.” She’d been processing the breakup with Evan, analyzing what had led them to the altar in the first place. And all she could come up with was that it had “made sense.” Her heart hadn’t been in it though and, looking back, she was sure Evan’s heart hadn’t been in it either.

  “Things have been awkward between us this week. I can’t keep walking on eggshells around here.” Finally that weight sinking her stomach started to lighten. “I’ll leave if you’d like. I can go back to Denver and tell your aunt I’m sorry.”

  It would be awful to leave, but she couldn’t stay with him despising her. “Or I can stay for this month-long trial you two negotiated. And we can try to be friends.”

  “Friends.” Nash seemed to be gauging whether or not she was serious.

  “Yeah. Surely you have friends.” Teasing him couldn’t hurt. Maybe it would even win him over and show him they could interact without the weirdness. “You know—those people who talk civilly to each other instead of ignoring one another?”

  She turned up the snark a notch. “Those people who smile at you and even laugh at your lame jokes?”

  He was smiling now. “I don’t think I have anyone who laughs at my lame jokes.”

  “I will.” Mack snuck a sip of her wine. “Tell me one.”

  “Right now?”

  “Sure.” She sat straighter and leaned partway over the table, trying to entice him with a bounce of her eyebrows. “Come on. I know you have plenty of lame jokes.”

  “Okay.” He slumped back against the chair, seeming more relaxed. “ How do you stop a dog from barking in the front yard?”

  Uh oh. She was almost afraid to ask. “How?”

  “Put it in the backyard.” His eyes widened hopefully, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t even muster a chuckle. She tried to resist a pained wince but it came anyway.

  “You were supposed to laugh,” Nash said, crossing his arms in a pout.

  “I’m sorry!” She was laughing now, but that didn’t seem to make him feel any better. “That was a joke? Really?”

  “You think you can do better?”

  “I sure hope so.” She thought for a moment. “Oh! Okay. Here’s a good one. How do you make a Kleenex dance?”

  Nash appeared to brace himself. “How?”

  She aimed her most charming smile right at him. “Put a little boogie in it.”

  A smile twitched on his lips.

  “You liked that one.” She pointed at him, calling him out. “You definitely smiled.”

  That wry grin of his grew, inching toward the corners of his eyes. “It was better than mine. I’ll give you that.”

  She gave a cheer. “So we can do this? We can be friends?”

  He raised his wine glass in a toast. “We can try.”

  She clinked her glass against his.

  Now if she could just stop thinking about kissing him again, things would be perfect.

  Chapter 11

  Jasper bounded out of the pond in a spray of cold water, proudly carrying the stick Mack had thrown for at least the twentieth time.

  “Good boy!” she called from a distance, hoping he’d trot over after he’d shaken off the water instead of before like he’d done the last three times.

  As if reading her thoughts, the dog pranced over, shook against her legs until she was nearly as wet as he was, and then dropped the stick at her feet, giving a bark and wagging his tail so hard his whole back end swung side to side.

  “You could do this all night, couldn’t you?” She patted the dog’s wet head, but at the moment, Jasper had no patience for affection. He barked again, hopping around like he would lose his mind if he didn’t chase that stick right this very minute.

  Mack laughed. “Okay. Here goes.” She picked up the tree branch and launched it over the water.

  Whimpering with delight, the dog tore off after it, doing a doggie belly flop off the dock into the water and paddling those paws furiously in the direction of the stick.

  She watched him with a smile, taking in the scenery that sealed her into yet another perfect moment in the mountains.

  Her heart felt as buoyant as Jasper in the water. She and Nash had come to a truce, and she’d actually enjoyed the rest of their dinner. Without the pressure of the kiss hanging over them, they’d talked easily about safe topics like his work and her father’s company.

  Then Nash had gotten a phone call from work, so Mack had done the dishes and cleaned Agatha’s kitchen before taking Jasper out for their nightly stick-throwing date.

  Jasper happened to be the perfect date. He was always overjoyed to see her. He kissed her and snuggled with her, and he’d even grown protective of her—following her around the ranch whenever she went out.

  That’s what she needed. A dog instead of a man. It was a far less complicated relationship than one with Nash would be.

  “Come on, boy,” she called. The dog had been swimming back toward the shore, but he suddenly changed directions and headed across the pond instead.

  “Where are you going?” Mack ran across the soft grass around the perimeter of the pond, following Jasper.

  He’d already made it onto dry land and ditched the stick right away, taking off into the trees.

  “Come back!” Thankfully, the dog was barking now, so she could follow his path into the woods. She stumbled her way down a steep slope and two figures emerged near Jasper. A person and a pony. The pair moved slowly, then stopped suddenly when they saw her.

  “Hello?” Mack followed Jasper in a clumsy jog, stumbling over rocks and logs and, as she drew closer, she immediately recognized the woman from the boutique in town.

  “Emery?” Mack slipped down an embankment.

  “Mack?” The woman slumped against a tree. “Oh, thank God.” Heavy breaths broke up the words. Her face seemed paler than it had when they’d met that day at the shop. Had it been almost two weeks ago?

  The small pony that stood beside Emery was a pathetic sight—skinny and scraggly.

  “What is it? What happened?” Mack approached the two, along with Jasper, who’d quieted down as if he realized something was wrong.

  “My leg.” Emery braced her arm against a tree and pulled up her right pant leg, which was soaked with blood.

  “Oh God.” Mack examined the wound—a long, deep gash down the side of Emery’s calf. “We need to get you to a hospital.” She patted her pocket for her phone, but she’d left it in her room at Agatha’s house.

  “No hospital,” the woman gasped. “And it’s this pony who needs help. I was on a hike about a mile and a half away from here and I happened to walk past a rundown old ranch.”

  She paused, heaving. “This poor pony was tied up.” Emery showed her the rope around the animal’s neck. “And he’s starving. You can tell. So I snuck inside the fence and took him.”

  Mack studied the pony. He did look like he’d been starved. The poor animal’s head hung and his ribs stuck out. “You just took him? Did anyone see you?”

  The woman mopped the sweat off of her face with her sleeve. “That’s when things got crazy. This awful old man came outside and started yelling. Then he went in and got his shotgun.”

  “Shotgun?” Mack searched around th
em, her eyes scanning the trees. “Did he shoot you?” She tried to get another look at the woman’s leg, but the cuff of her jeans had slid back down.

  “No. He shot at us though.” Emery ran her hand over the pony’s mane. “I ripped a fencepost out of the ground to get this guy through, but then my leg got all tangled up in the barbed wire.”

  “The man shot at you? You’re sure?” Mack tugged on Emery’s arm, trying to help her stay upright. “We have to call the police.”

  “No!” The woman ripped away from her. “No police. I knew I could bring the pony here. To the ranch. I knew Agatha would help. We have to hide him.”

  “Okay. It’s okay. Everything’ll be okay.” She tried to calm herself as much as she tried to calm Emery. “Can you make it back to the ranch?”

  She couldn’t leave the woman out here. Especially if the psycho with the shotgun had followed her.

  “I think so.” Emery took a few limping steps.

  Mack grabbed the rope that was still tied around the pony’s neck, and gently led it forward while trying to support some of Emery’s weight. She peered over her shoulder again, looking for the man. At this rate, it was going to take them forever to get back to the ranch. “Jasper.”

  The dog’s ears perked.

  “Go get Nash. Where’s Nash? We need Nash!” The dog charged out in front of them, resuming his deep rumbling bark.

  Hopefully Nash would hear it. He’d told her he might join her for her evening walk with Jasper after his phone call…

  “I need to rest.” Emery slumped against her.

  “Of course.” Mack did her best to sound calm, but they’d only made it about ten steps and they still had a long ways to go.

  Ahead of them, Jasper stopped to wait, whining.

  “Go on.” Mack shooed him. “Go get Nash. Go on home.”

  After another heartfelt whimper, the dog bolted out of sight.

  “Let me take a look at that cut.” She leaned over, still doing her best to support Emery while trying to get a better look at what they were dealing with.

  Blood poured out of the wound, soaking down into Emery’s sock. “We have to stop the bleeding.” Dropping all the way to her knees, she tried to think. What could they use?

  “Take my sweatshirt.” Emery wriggled to pull it off over her head.

  Mack took it from her hands and tied one of the sleeves around the woman’s calf, cinching it as tightly as she could. Who knew how much blood Emery had already lost. “How far do you think you walked?” she asked, standing back up.

  “Maybe two miles. We ran some of it.” The woman started off again, taking small, limping steps. “I went a roundabout way through the woods. Wanted to make sure I lost him if he followed us.”

  Mack started walking too, gently leading the pony, who seemed as docile as a lamb. He really seemed like a sweet thing. “Who is the man?” Who would do something like that? What kind of person would neglect a helpless animal and shoot at someone? She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

  “I don’t know him.” Emery paused again, hunching over like she needed to catch her breath. “Never seen him before. But I’m new in town too.”

  “Well someone has to know who he is.” She’d call the police as soon as—

  A familiar bark sounded nearby. “Jasper.” She whistled as loud as she could.

  “Mack?”

  She heard Nash before she saw him, and tears she didn’t know she was holding back started to slip down her cheeks. “Down here,” she called.

  The man appeared at the top of the hill in a halo of soft sunlight.

  “Emery’s injured. There’s a deep cut in her leg,” she said before he could ask any questions. “She got tangled up in some barbed wire rescuing this neglected pony.”

  To his credit, Nash didn’t take any time to ask all the questions he likely had. He jogged down the hill toward them, took one look at Emery, and swept her up into his arms.

  “How bad is the cut?” he asked gruffly, leading the way toward the house.

  “It’s bad.” Mack urged the pony along, trying to keep up. “I tied her sweatshirt around it, tried to stop the bleeding, but she hiked for a few miles before I found her. She needs a hospital—”

  “No hospital,” Emery growled. “Please. I can’t go to the hospital.”

  “Take the pony to the smaller stable,” Nash instructed, starting to jog. “We’ll head to the house so I can get Emery cleaned up. Meet us there.”

  “Okay.” Mack veered off to the left heading for the stable, watching over her shoulder her the whole way.

  Nash carried Emery in through his front door and took her right into the kitchen.

  She’d lost a lot of blood. He’d known the second he saw her ashen face.

  “You’re not calling an ambulance, right?” the woman asked. “Please don’t. I can’t afford it. I don’t have insurance. I can hardly pay rent.”

  “Don’t worry.” That wouldn’t help her condition right now. He would worry enough for the both of them. “Sit tight.” He set her on the kitchen counter and ran into his bedroom, collecting spare blankets.

  “You need to stay warm and calm.” The last thing they needed was for her to go into shock. Then he wouldn’t have a choice but to call an ambulance.

  After securing a blanket around her shoulders, he rifled through the cabinet where he kept his extra first aid and medical supplies.

  Emery wouldn’t be the first human he’d stitched up. Most people around here figured a vet and doctor were interchangeable, so he’d had a few people show up on his doorstep asking for help.

  “I’m lucky Mack and Jasper found me,” Emery said quietly. “Who knows how long I would’ve wandered around in those woods.”

  From the looks of things, she’d already wandered too much. “How’d she find you?” He’d been surprised when he’d walked down to the lake and hadn’t found Mack or Jasper. Then he’d seen that dog come barreling up the hill alone, and he’d been sure something had happened to Mack.

  That moment of panic had caught him off guard. It felt like someone had yanked the earth out from under him. He didn’t feel panic like that. Then again, he didn’t usually feel connections either. But somehow with Mack…it was just different.

  He’d only met her less than two weeks ago, and yet when they’d talked at dinner it felt like he’d known her his whole life.

  Now he felt a little guilty about the relief that had washed over him when he realized it was Emery who was hurt and not Mack. It had been a gut reaction. Something out of his control.

  “The dog must’ve heard us coming,” Emery said. “And Mack followed him into the woods.”

  “Where’d you find the pony?” He brought over a wound-cleaning kit along with a sterile suture kit.

  “I was hiking over to the west,” the woman said. “I found it tied up in a corral by an old rundown ranch house.”

  “That’s Larry Coombs’s place. He’s always been ornery.” Larry and Nash’s own father used to get into it over everything from their land boundaries to who had the best truck. The man had always been looking for a fight.

  “I wasn’t aware he kept animals on the property anymore.” He shouldn’t. From what Nash had heard, ever since the man’s wife had passed a few years back, he’d been hitting the alcohol hard.

  “I didn’t see any other animals, but that pony is in bad shape.” Emery stretched her injured leg out in front of her with a wince. “He shot at me when I broke the fence. That’s why I got all tangled up in the barbed wire. I thought he was gonna kill me.”

  “I doubt it.” Though if he was drunk enough, Nash wouldn’t put it past him. “I’ll call the sheriff out here—”

  “I don’t want any trouble,” the woman interrupted, eyes cast down. “I can’t get into any trouble. I just wanted to help the pony, but I don’t want nothin’ to do with the sheriff.”

  Nash didn’t know much about Emery—only that his aunt had been involved in helping her find a j
ob and a place to live. It sounded like she’d had it rough since returning from her last deployment to the Middle East.

  “I can tell the sheriff the pony just ended up on our land. He doesn’t have to know you were here.” If he could get her fixed up good enough, that was.

  “I guess we’d better take a look at that laceration.” It seemed to him the woman’s color had come back. She didn’t look nearly as pale as she had when he’d first laid eyes on her. That was a good sign. “Can you untie that sweatshirt and roll up your jeans enough?” He pulled on a pair of gloves.

  “Think so.” She unwound the sleeve of the sweatshirt away and inched the fabric up over her leg, exposing a deep laceration on the anterior of her calf.

  “That’s a good one.” He studied the wound’s jagged edges and prodded gently to get a feel for how deep it went. Definitely through the muscle, but it didn’t appear to have gone all the way to the bone.

  “It hurts like hell.” Her teeth had clenched.

  “I can imagine.” Unfortunately, the pain wouldn’t get any better until he’d stitched her up. “I have a shot I can give you to numb the area—”

  The door pounded open and Mack rushed in. “How is she?”

  “I’m fine,” Emery told her. “No worries. It’s only a cut.”

  He’d call it a serious laceration, but he didn’t say so. “Everything’ll be okay. We need to get it cleaned and stitched up.”

  And try to keep her comfortable in the process. Nash opened a package of sterile rags. “Let’s move closer to the sink.” Together, they scooted Emery near the sink and she stretched out her leg.

  “This will hurt.” He nodded Mack over to stand by Emery.

  “I’ll hold your hand,” Mack offered. “You can squeeze as hard as you’d like.”

  Nash turned on the water and started running it over the wound. “You up to date on tetanus?”

  “I had to be up to date on everything for the Army.”

  “Great.” Then he wouldn’t have to see to a tetanus shot too. “The wound looks pretty clean.” He poked around and opened it up a bit more to flush it out.

  Emery hissed and swore under her breath.