“It’s not the city.” She shook her head. “It’s not my job.”
He searched her face, his breath turning ragged. “What’s so sure-fire important that you’d risk your life?”
She bit her bottom lip to keep from blathering every last fear hidden in her heart.
His grip tightened on her forearms as he gaze softened. “What do you want from me?”
Quit the rodeo. He’d never do it, she’d never ask.
She’d be in big trouble if he ever did.
As her silence stretched, he cocked a brow and squeezed her arm before he let her go. Taking a step back against the kitchen counter, Nick gave her plenty of room. “There’s a winter storm warning in effect and you’re chancing a drive through unfamiliar canyons and mountain passes. All for a day or two jump on your return to Denver.” His lips pulled tight before he blew another breath. “You said I was reckless like your father. Well, Rachel Hill, look in the mirror. You’ve got more foolhardiness in you than all us rodeo cowboys combined.”
* * *
Even as the words left his mouth, he wished them back. He’d dealt her a cheap shot and he knew it.
Rachel spun around and ran from the kitchen, the door almost slamming in his face as he raced to follow. He caught her just as she rounded the corner of the house into the blinding sunlight reflecting off the snow. A brisk breeze bit his cheeks warning of the upcoming storm despite the clear blue sky overhead. He snagged her sleeve and brought her up against him.
“Let me go.”
It was past time to set things right and say the words he should have said years ago. “Just know if you leave, I’m coming after you.”
“I hate you.” She tried to tug away.
The muddy paste of disgust coated his mouth. “You should.”
Opening her mouth in silent protest, she tilted her head the slightest measure. “First you insult me, then you threaten me. What’s wrong with you? Why would you follow me?” She twisted. "Let go of me."
“Because.” Before habit slammed shut the protective walls around his heart, a gentle surrender tugged at his soul. He was tired of fighting, tired of shying away from anyone who threatened to come too close. The truth of the matter was that Nick wanted to bond, and not with just anyone, he wanted to bond with Rachel. “I’m sorry.”
Clearly startled, she stopped pulling away, the clean scent of cold and snow wrapping around him like a lasso. “You should be.”
He’d stomped all over her feelings. He deserved no mercy, but God in heaven, he wanted it. “I’ve been. . .difficult.”
“Difficult?” She shook free of his hold, the color in her face having nothing to do with the cold. She stomped around him in the snow but showed no signs of hijacking the ATV. “Difficult? You’ve been impossible. I’ve tried to be understanding and compassionate this whole asinine trip and what do I get? A lecture about my character from your skewed cowboy perspective.”
“I’m wrong.” He held still as she circled him, her arms flailing the air. He’d take his licks and pray she’d forgive him in the end.
“You bet you’re wrong.” Her voice carried on the wind. “You don’t know me at all.”
He nodded slowly. “And I talk before I think.”
She halted in front of him. Squaring her stance, she set her hands on her hips. “Since the moment I met you.”
“I’ve been a miserable traveling companion.”
Her fury appeared to diminish as she cocked her head. Her fists disappeared as she rubbed her hands together. “The worst. Why are you agreeing with me?”
“Because,” he dragged the words out. “I happen to agree with the assessment of a wise woman.”
“Who?” she asked cautiously as if about to step into a trap.
“The one who said something about a bull rider not being able to tell the difference between a come-on and a come-along.” His muscles relaxed when her eyes grew round in recognition of her own words. “I believe she mentioned something about his stupidity jumping up and biting him in the seat of his Wranglers?”
Her shoulders relaxed and she waved her finger for him to continue. “Go on, I’m listening.”
More? “And he’s moody.”
Her brilliant green eyes narrowed, studying him with a razor-sharp edge cutting through the years of perfected bravado. A smile tugged at her full lips as her clear laughter rang across the snow field into the surrounding pines.
“So tell me something I don’t know, cowboy. I’m used to your grump.” Her stance relaxed as she folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip. “Actually, there's been a time or two you've warmed my heart.”
Breath escaped his lungs. For a moment, he’d worried she’d given up on him. “Are you sure it’s not indigestion?”
The wind kicked up and she took a step closer. “Quite.”
Nick reached out and pulled until her soft curves matched his sharp angles. Strands of hair brushed his cheek as he inhaled her familiar scent. Her warm and soft lips met his with a hint of peppermint on her breath. Her little moan made him thread his fingers through her hair and hold tight. Tenderness and need crashed through him as her arms wrapped around his waist and she returned his kiss. When he pulled back, the familiar emptiness returned along with an aching need too fierce to dismiss. “Maybe you should slap me for being so forward.”
Her glistening gaze searched his. “Maybe you should kiss me again.”
That shouldn’t have been her answer, but who was he to argue? He pressed his lips to hers and imagined heaven on earth couldn’t have been any sweeter.
Given an eternity, he’d never tire of kissing her.
“You are so sweet.” He pulled back and threaded his fingers through her hair, marveling at the fiery highlights in the brilliant sunshine.
“You’re alright, yourself, cowboy.” She nuzzled into his collar. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”
He loved the feel of her smile against his skin. “Yeah, but how many of your first dates lasted for days?”
Obviously ignoring his remark, she loosened her hold on his neck and moved her hand to his sleeve. “I believe God worked a miracle here. I think we’re seeing eye to eye.”
At the mention of God and miracles, Nick felt his chest tighten. A miracle now? He tried to remember all the reasons he’d shut God out of his life in the past few years. He recalled memories, but the desperation that had driven him so far from home seemed beyond his reach. He slipped his fingers from her hair and closed his eyes against the brilliance of the sun reflected off the snow. A miracle? Anything was possible.
“Nick?” Rachel tugged on the front of his jacket until he opened his eyes and looked at her. A sheen covered her clear green eyes turning them to sparkling emerald. “Nick, nothing is so bad that you have to throw away your life.”
“There’s so much you don’t understand,” he muttered, all the while fixed on her gaze. He didn’t want to talk about anything. He didn’t want to lose the calm he’d found.
“But I do understand.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled close. Nick couldn’t help but return the embrace and hold her tighter. When Rachel held him, he no longer felt alone.
“Not everything in life turns out the way we want it to. Sometimes we just have to let go. There was nothing you could do about Stephanie, nothing anyone could do to stop her. Stop beating yourself up, Nick. Let go.”
Nick wanted desperately to argue the point, but she held him close and all his reasons blurred together until he couldn’t summon a rational thought. Peace enfolded him, obscuring the cloak of guilt he’d hidden behind for the past four years. Hadn’t there been anything he could’ve done to save Stephanie short of losing his own life? As he thought about the accident, sadness surged through his heart. So many years wasted on an event he couldn’t change.
“Put the past where it belongs and look to the future,” he whispered into her hair. Loosening his hold, he studied her round eyes and full lips. The c
old breeze nipped her cheeks rosy. “So, do you know anything about my future?”
“No more than I know about mine.” She grinned up at him. “God leads; we, but follow.”
Lacing his fingers through hers, Nick wrapped his other hand around her waist. “I’ve gotten used to going places with you.” He captured her lips and wanted to cheer when she eagerly returned his kiss.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
His mother hadn’t changed a thing in his old room since he’d moved out of the house. Nick didn’t know if that was a good thing, or not.
The shelves of rodeo trophies; his collection of arrowheads stacked on his desktop; the posters of rodeo pros tacked to the walls. Nick ran his fingers over the worn green quilt beneath him as he sat propped up against the headboard he’d made in woodworking class. Some things never changed.
The familiar bedroom in his parents’ house always provided a safe haven, no matter the danger, real or imagined.
Footsteps in the room beside his broke into his memories. He’d listened to Rachel pace the floor for the past hour. He glanced out the window and ventured to blame the snow falling in big, fat flakes since yesterday evening responsible for her agitation. Watery light filtered in through his window instead of the pitch darkness expected at six o’clock in the morning. She’d made the trek so many times, he could predict her movements back and forth like a wind-up toy stuck in a cycle.
Maybe it was the storm, or maybe she was thinking of him. A smug self-satisfaction wrapped around him. Maybe she couldn’t shake the tingling from her lips any more than he could.
Yesterday afternoon had surprised him in more ways than he’d ever imagined. Walking through his house for the first time since he’d left for the rodeo circuit hadn’t been as earth shattering as he’d feared. The house stood still and empty, an impersonal wood and stone structure rather than the home he’d embellished in his mind. It had been a convenient storage unit for things that never mattered much in the first place.
Rachel’s presence had thrown a chink in the chain mail of his preconceived notions. He’d been prepared to hear voices chastising him and accusations written in the dust that covered the tables and cushions. Instead, he’d been so fixated on Rachel’s reaction to his skewed vision of a perfect life, he’d forgotten the weight of his own personal moment. He saw the house through her eyes and all his conjured scenarios blew away like a gust of cold mountain air sweeping through and cleansing all the dark places of his heart.
But that wasn’t the best part.
Their first kiss remained emblazoned on his brain and each kiss afterward only drew him in deeper.
He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Well, she was up and so was he. No point in each of them mulling over thoughts alone in the silent house. Standing, Nick crossed the room in his socks, the hardwood floor offering no friction for his feet. In a few steps, he was out the door and standing in front of hers, his knuckles giving a quick rap on the door. “Rachel? Are you up?”
Shuffled sounds moved closer to the door. Silence filled the air for a few moments before the door inched open. “Nick? Are you okay? Does your head hurt?”
“Nope, just getting an early start on the morning.” He nodded toward the window in her bedroom. “Looks like the snow isn’t going to let up. Thought I’d help Zac feed the cattle.” He took in her flannel shirt and jeans, her bare foot propped on top of the other as she braced against the door. “Are you ready for a cup of coffee?”
Running her hand through her auburn hair, she let the strands stream between her fingers and then fall back to her shoulders. “Coffee sounds great. Give me a minute.” She closed the door and shuffling noises drifted through the door again.
Nick grinned as he leaned against the door jamb. He’d spent the last five days with her and this was the first time he’d managed to get dressed before her. The tousled, early-morning look suited her, but her alert eyes shadowed by dark circles told him she’d been awake for a while, if not all night. When the door opened and she stepped out, Nick frowned at the reappearance of her wooden smile.
He kept his back on the door jamb. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Her smile wavered as she turned to shut the door behind her. “Just ready to start the day.”
“Hmmm.” He wasn’t going to push it. Having traveled shotgun with her, he knew she’d spill when she was ready. He took her hand as they followed the hallway to the living room. Her palm warmed his skin as she gripped her fingers tightly between his. “I thought I’d start pulling my weight around here. I picked a lousy time to become responsible.” He nodded toward the window across the room. “Look at it snow.”
“Yeah, I know.” She rubbed her thumb across his. “I was supposed to leave today.”
Muscles tensed along his shoulders. “Are you?”
She thumped her head against his shoulder and blew out a frustrated sigh. “No.”
He added his own sigh. “Thank, God.”
“I doubt God is keeping me snowed in.”
She rubbed her cheek against his arm sending warmth all through his tightened muscles. “You never know.”
Angling her chin, her green eyes sparkled in the dim, early morning filtering into the room. “To quote a semi-wise man - hmmm.”
A grin pulled at his mouth as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her tight. “Hmmm.”
Her lips looks so soft, he couldn’t help himself. He captured her mouth, his lips testing their welcome. She tensed for all of a second before melting against him, her fingers slipping into his belt loop and holding him close. Her warm, feminine scent drifted around him as Nick deepened the kiss, his palm cupping her head to hold her close.
He’d kissed her yesterday and today, and knew he wanted many more tomorrows.
“Cozy.”
Zac’s gravelly voice broke into Nick’s haze. Rachel pulled away as he turned to face his brother. “I was looking for you.”
“Yeah. Right. I can tell.” Humor colored his words as Zac saluted with a mug of coffee. “Mornin’, Rachel.”
“Good morning, Zac.” She cleared her throat. “Coffee? Sure smells good.”
“There’s a pot in the kitchen.”
Her fingers gave his belt loop a slight tug. Nick caught her bright gaze as a shy smile played on her lips. “Great. I’ll go find it.”
Warmth spread along his arm where her palm slid along his sleeve. His heart pounded as she darted away. He’d asked her to join him for coffee, yet coffee was the last thing on his mind. Too many emotions rushed through him as if parts of him were awakening after a long sleep.
“Looking for me?” Zac followed Nick’s gaze toward the kitchen. “I’d say you’re looking for someone else.”
“What? Oh.” A rumble rose in his chest. “We both like coffee.”
“Coffee.” Zac chuckled. “Is that what you call it these days?”
“Yeah.” Nick shook his head and returned his brother’s knowing grin. “I thought I’d help you feed cattle.”
The grin on Zac’s face froze. “Seriously? Have you looked outside?”
“Cattle get hungry.” Clusters of thick snowflakes whirled around the windows. This wasn’t going to be a quick chore. “Are you saying you don’t need help?”
“Just making sure you know I’m throwing hay across the Circle D and Trails’ End.”
Nick glanced across the living room and into the kitchen where Rachel stood at the counter pouring mugs of coffee. She looked so relaxed and natural standing there. His eyes widened as he realized where his thoughts were headed. She had plans and dreams, and she was going back to them tomorrow.
Dreams that didn’t include a banged up, old cowboy.
He nodded at Zac. “Time I started pulling my weight around here. Let’s go.”
* * *
Dusk darkened the white landscape outside the window as Rachel stood at the kitchen counter and peeled potatoes. A pot roast as big as a basketball roasted in the oven, the
savory aroma filling the whole house. Grace gripped the mixing bowl as yams whipped together with butter and pecan syrup. Jennifer had finished baking pies earlier in the afternoon and now sat on the floor with Jason building a tower out of cards.
Rachel smiled as she tossed her shavings and chunked the potato pieces, bits of garlic and slices of onion into boiling salt water. She’d been assigned mashed potatoes for the evening’s feast. She had a special recipe guaranteed to leave no leftovers.
“I’ve got twenty minutes before the potatoes are ready to whip, Grace. Can I help you?” Rachel wiped her hands on the checkered dish towel before draping it over a doweled rack. “Table’s set and water glasses filled. I’d offer to unload the dishwasher, but I don’t know where anything goes.”
“Oh, you’ll learn in time.” Grace poured her yam-batter into a baking dish. “How about handing me the canister of walnuts?”
Rachel removed the lid and handed Grace the chopped nuts. As Grace shook out handfuls of nuts on the dish, Rachel looked around the seriously abused kitchen and tried to find the right place to start cleaning. “This looks more like a Thanksgiving feast than a Sunday night dinner.”
“Well, it’s not every day my whole family is home for dinner.” A smile lit the older woman’s face. “Thank you.”
Heat fused up the back of Rachel’s neck. “It was nothing.”
“Hardly nothing.” Grace slid the dish into the oven beside the roast and closed the door. “Nick’s been gone for four year and never once called home. Thank God, Mitch called to give us updates. We couldn’t get Nick to talk to us.” She grabbed the bowls and stacked them into the sink. “I never gave up hope of seeing him, but honestly, the longer he stayed away, the less I thought he’d come home in one piece.”
Rachel ran her finger along the granite counter top, uncomfortable with the praise. “My dad always said to do what needed to be done.”
“Amen.” Grace squirted a shot of dish soap into the sink and turned on the hot water. “You’re an angel, Rachel Hill.”
“Gram Grace,” Jason called as he rounded the kitchen table. “Gramps wants a soda.”
Rough Road Home (The Circle D series) Page 16