by Hanna Hart
“Sounds like hard feelings to me,” Wesley laughed. “What happened, if you don't mind my asking?”
“You'd have to ask her,” he said with a shrug.
“What, you just broke up after years of being together for no reason?”
Nash narrowed his eyes at his friend as he tipped the rim of his beer bottle to his mouth. He took a long pull of the hoppy beer.
“I told you,” he repeated, “I was sick of chasing her around. Sophia isn’t the girl who wants to be with somebody.”
“She was with you for two years,” Wesley argued politely.
Nash sighed. Wesley wasn’t letting this one go, and it was getting annoying. He didn’t want to talk about Sophia or rehash their gut-punch of a breakup. He just wanted to drink his beer and play pool with his friend.
He narrowed his eyes at his friend, suddenly bothered by Wesley’s insistent curiosity.
“Why so interested?” he asked.
Wesley took a sip of beer and looked out into the bar, noncommittal. “It's just weird. We've been friends forever, and I've never heard you mention her before.”
“And my need for privacy is suddenly a shock to you?” Nash laughed.
“Just seems odd.”
“I had a wife, Wesley. Why would I want to talk about my ex? I didn’t even talk about her with Kenzie.”
“Oh, come on,” Wesley scoffed in disbelief.
“I didn't!” he insisted. “We didn't talk about exes.”
“Wow. When I met Valley,” Wesley began, speaking of his last girlfriend, “All she did was quiz me about my exes.”
“I won't do it, and do you want to know why?” he asked, and Wesley nodded toward him for the answer. “Because nothing good can come from it. All it leads to is questions like 'Was she prettier than me?' or 'Who is a better kisser?' or questions about every little problem you had in that relationship. Then your current girlfriend will start noticing all the little things you told her your ex couldn't stand about you, and it all goes down the toilet.”
“That's probably true,” his friend said with amusement.
“So, I refuse.”
“Here, here!” Wesley shouted, raising his beer glass into the air. “I stand by your no talking about exes’ rule!”
“Great,” he smiled. “Then, let's start now with you dropping all these questions about Sophia.”
“I just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings there.”
Nash nodded. “So you've said.”
There was something behind Wesley’s questions, and Nash thought he knew what it was—Wesley wanted to pursue Sophia, and what’s more, he wanted Nash’s blessing to do so.
Nash changed the subject, talking about the newest episode of a show they’d both been watching. The truth was, unless Wesley was willing to come right out and say that he liked Sophia, Nash would be keeping his blessings to himself.
It didn’t surprise him that his friend was interested in Sophia. She was a beautiful girl.
Sophia had a baby-faced look that made her appear younger than she really was.
When he first met her, he remembered being completely taken with her blunt-cut brown hair and bright eyes. She had the longest lashes he’d ever seen on a girl, and she always coated them with thick layers of mascara.
He used to be so in love with her back then. So, so in love.
Looking back, he didn’t know what he’d ever meant to Sophia. Nothing, maybe. But it certainly felt like something at the time. She’d always been the one who got away, the girl he thought would be his forever—but she made sure to squash those dreams hard.
But to say he hadn’t thought about her over the years would have been a lie. The pair met when Nash was twenty years old, Sophia nineteen. By the time he was twenty-two, they were dating, and by twenty-four, they were over.
Then he moved to Tillsonburg, met Kenzie, spent three amazing years with her, and somehow, he had circled back around to Sophia Sawyer.
Much to his chagrin, Nash couldn’t stop thinking about the girl over the next few days. He thought about the impending tornado and wondered how she was faring, and it was enough for him to swallow his pride and make his way over to her property.
It was a Monday morning, three days out from the expected touchdown of the tornado, and the sky was a terrible gray—nothing like the usual stream of endless blue in a Texas June.
He parked his car and pulled a reinforced paper bag out of the passenger seat. Locking his truck behind him, Nash made his way to the front porch of the farmhouse.
The porch appeared empty as he walked up the stairs, but as he landed his final step, he noticed Imogene sitting cross-legged on the wood, scribbling onto a gigantic piece of paper with an orange crayon.
“Hello,” she said sweetly, looking up at him with her big green eyes.
“Hey,” he said back. “Watcha doin' there?”
“Just coloring,” she said with a shrug, turning back to her paper.
“Looks like you're drawing a...” he trailed off, leaning down to inspect the page behind her. “A rainbow?”
“It's a horse,” she corrected.
“Ohh,” he mumbled with a nod, cocking a brow and desperately trying to figure out how the obvious rainbow on the page could even remotely resemble a horse.
“A rainbow horse,” she said again, tilting her head back to look up at him.
Nash crouched down next to her, shifting the paper bag to his side. Pointing down to the page, he said, “Oh, I see it now. Very creative. What are those…hooves?”
“They're pots of gold. That's her feet!”
“Like at the end of a rainbow,” he said with a smile, and the girl squealed excitedly and said, “Yes!”
“Is your mommy home?” he asked, expecting the girl to either give him an answer or head into the house to fetch Sophia. Instead, Imogene bit her lip thoughtfully before yelling out an extended, “Mom!”
Nash laughed at the little girl's method and stood up just in time to see Sophia come from around the corner of the house. She smiled when she saw him on the porch and ascended the stairs with a curious smile.
“Hey, stranger,” she said with a flirty smile, jutting her hip out in the way she did before landing a hand on it.
“Hey,” he said, and there was a beat of silence between them.
“So,” she staggered with awkward humor, “what are you doing here?”
Nash suddenly felt nervous. “I was just, uh, well, I was thinking about you and the storm and everything. You know, people are saying it's going to be pretty bad. Food is flying off the shelves, and the weatherman is saying that we might lose power for a while, and clearly, you aren't the type of girl to be prepared for stuff like this.”
“Which is your long-winded way of saying ...?”
Nash cleared his throat awkwardly and extended the paper grocery bag toward her. “I got you this,” he said.
Her expression brightened as she took the bag from him. Inside, she found a week's worth of food; rice, canned goods, oatmeal, sweets, a flashlight, two children's board games, candles, matches, and other such “emergency” items.
“I also picked you up a generator,” he said, gesturing back toward his truck. “I figured you probably didn't have one, so...”
“No, you didn't!” she exclaimed. “Nash, this is so sweet, thank you!”
Sophia set the bag down and threw her arms around him. He didn't understand her ability to be completely genuine with him after everything that had happened.
“See, I'm not all bad,” he teased.
“I never said you were bad,” she teased back.
“Yeah, you didn't look happy to see me the other day, either.”
“Me?” she scoffed out a laugh. “What about you? You looked mortified! The attitude didn't help, either.”
He brushed it off. “I was just surprised, that's all.”
“And by surprised, you mean you were a total jerk,” she said with a wink.
“A
big insult to someone who helped you secure your house.”
“You're right. You did a nice thing, and I should give you total and complete credit for it, even though you only did it because you were caught off-guard and because your friend made you,” she grinned.
“That was the most backhanded 'thank you' that I've ever heard,” he said in mock surprise.
For the first time, Imogene looked up at them and brushed a lock of blonde curly hair behind her shoulder as she tried to say, “Say you're sorry, Mama!”
Nash couldn't help his laughter. “See!” he said.
Sophia blushed and shook her head. “Imogene, you're supposed to be on mommy's side always, remember?”
“Sounds to me like the kid knows a thing or two about right and wrong,” he said.
“Betrayed by my own flesh and blood,” Sophia said. “Alright, alright. I'm sorry and thank you for helping me out with my house. You wanna come in and look around?”
“No, that's okay,” he said with a polite wave of decline.
“I'm going to make you come in anyway, so you may as well just say yes and pretend like it was your idea,” she insisted.
“Alright, yes, then!”
He followed her and Imogene inside the house, and he was surprised at how much better it looked than the last time they saw it. In the entrance, there was a grand staircase that led to a landing, and then there was another staircase to the second floor. More noticeably, the old carpeting had been ripped up and the original walnut hardwood floor had been refinished.
“Wow, you've done a lot of work in the past week!” he said.
“Yeah, I had my friend Jake come in and do the floors, plus I stripped all the wallpaper and primed all the rooms white.”
“It looks great. Really soft. You know, for an old place,” he said with a shrug.
Imogene led him through the all-white living room. There was an old fireplace that probably hadn't been functional in years, but even without being in working order, it brought a charm and elegance to the old room.
“What’s your ranch like?” she asked. “Real fancy inside, I bet. All cherry-wood and built-in bookcases.”
“Why do you ask?” he said, narrowing his eyes playfully. “You trying to steal ideas from me?”
“Obviously,” she said.
“Nah, we're not fancy. It's all about that rustic feel. We've got cabins and the homesteads. A cabin is the smaller unit, and it's, well, as it sounds. Log cabin, stone fireplace, rustic.”
“Yeah, but 'designer rustic,' right?” she said, and he nodded.
“Something like that. Aside from the cabins, we have larger cottages, which have multiple bedrooms, and then we have two big ranches, which are like mini-mansions with a theatre room, gym, private pool, the works.”
“Well, look at you, Mr. Fancypants,” she smiled.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I didn't know you opened your own ranch,” she began, bringing him up the stairs to the second floor of the house. On the upper level were two fair-sized bedrooms, a bathroom, and the master bedroom and bath combo. Everything was white, but it made the walls pop against the shiny redone floors. “I mean, I knew you were working on one with your brother, but...” she trailed off.
“Yeah, my parents decided we should be the new Brookside Ranch, you know? Have a bunch of ranches across the South. Turns out we're pretty good at running them,” he shrugged. “What about you? Last I heard, you weren't in Texas anymore. What brings you back?”
“A breakup,” she said.
Simple as that.
Sophia was so honest, sometimes, it killed him.
Nash nodded and mumbled, “Ah.” Then he gestured toward Imogene as if to ask, “A breakup with her father?” and she quickly shook her head.
“No, that was a whole different trauma,” she laughed. “What about you? What brought you to Tillsonburg?”
“The ranch,” he said, and she slapped her forehead as if to indicate she should have known that.
“Well, here we are again,” she smiled sweetly at him. “Neighbors.”
“Yep,” he said. “Pretty strange.”
“Not that strange,” she said. “What would be really strange is if we decided to be friends again.”
“Yeah, that's not going to happen.”
“Why not?” she whined.
“It's too weird,” he said.
“Let me make you some coffee,” she said, wandering back toward the staircase and moving the baby gate out of the way. “I bet I can prove you wrong. I bet I can prove that we're both in Tillsonburg for a reason and that we're supposed to be friends again.”
“Were we ever friends?” he asked thoughtfully, following her to the kitchen. “I mean, really?”
Sophia pulled a bag of dark roast coffee from one of the bright white cupboards and shook the bag in her hand. Her eyes were skyward as though she were truly trying to come up with an answer.
“I don't know,” she finally said, smiling. “But you coming here with food and a generator seems pretty friendly to me. So…maybe it's time we found out what being friends really feels like?”
Nash thought about it. Being back in the same room with Sophia felt wrong. It felt like a betrayal—though whether it was a betrayal of himself or Kenzie, he couldn’t tell. Yet, it felt so natural he found it hard to say no.
So, he said yes.
Chapter Six
Sophia
Lauren pulled her long, thin hair up into a ponytail as she sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Sophia. She'd been playing with her son Bertie and Imogene for the last hour. Sophia was in Lauren's kitchen making a big summer salad of beets, peaches, goat cheese, and walnuts, along with grilled cheese sandwiches for the kids.
Sophia loved spending time at Lauren's house. She was glad they were back together again, but she had a pit in her stomach knowing that she was going to have to tell Lauren about Nash coming around.
“I'm going to have to leave right after lunch,” she called from the kitchen.
“Aww, how come? I thought you had the day free?” her friend called back.
Sophia pulled in a breath and leaned against the doorway from the kitchen to the living room, holding the giant salad bowl in her hands. “Well, I'm having someone over to work on the house.”
Lauren met her eyes with a flick of curiosity, then her expression went sullen. Lauren held Bertie's waist as he picked up blocks and threw them back down on the carpet.
“It's Nash, isn't it?” her friend said. Her tone was flat, and Sophia could tell she was trying not to sound judgmental.
“Mm-hmm,” Sophia said, spinning on her heel and turning back into the kitchen. “He came by the other day with a care package for us, for the tornado, you know? And we talked. We decided to be friends since we're neighbors and all.”
“You're going to be friends?” Lauren repeated with disbelief.
“Yep,” Sophia said as she dished up their meals and brought them into the living room. “That's what we agreed on.”
“And he's coming over today?”
“To help around the farm,” Sophia nodded.
“Sophia!” Lauren scolded with a laugh. “Are you crazy? You and Nash can't be friends. You were never friends. Even during the first two years, when you were 'friends' before you started dating, it was just a giant waiting room for your romance!”
“Well, I'm all about trying new things,” Sophia said with a wink.
“And he agreed to this?”
Sophia widened her eyes. “It was years ago, Lauren. Relax, everything is okay!”
Lauren stabbed a fork tine into a hearty square of beet and stared down at it before turning back to Sophia, who was now sitting across from her. “What about Imogene?” she asked.
Sophia gave her friend a testing look. Her message was clear: she wasn't willing to talk about it. “He was very nice with Imogene,” was all she said.
Her lunch with Lauren continued to be awkward, but both girls pulled it
together and managed to successfully change the subject.
Nash was already at her house by the time she got to her little farm and the two of them spent the afternoon talking and working on the house.
She was surprised at how comfortable she was sinking back into a friendship with her ex, then again, the two of them were used to working together on his family's old ranch. They had picked out and designed several spaces in the ranch and did all of the work by hand, sanding, painting, and wallpapering.
They had a great imagination when it came to what a space could look like and didn't let someone else's poor decorating choices ruin their vision.
“I can't believe you talked me into wallpapering yellow flowers back into this hallway. Hasn't this hallway seen enough trauma?” Sophia said with a laugh.
“It's going to look great,” he called from the hall. He told her to busy herself in the kitchen as he wallpapered the hallway and immense staircase for the last couple of hours. She repeatedly offered to help, but Nash said no. He wanted her to be surprised at the reveal. “Remember, this isn't sixties floral. This is a new age floral, and it's a boss.”
“A boss?” she repeated with a snort.
“That's right!” he called, then surprised her as he emerged in the kitchen. “Alright, you ready?”
“I don't know,” she said with a grin. “I think I'm going to throw up.”
Nash gave a broad, excited smile. “It looks great,” he said. “Trust me. Do you trust me?”
“Maybe,” she teased.
“Then come in here,” he said.
Sophia followed him nervously and gasped with delight as she stepped into her entryway. To the left of the front door was an immense white staircase with a walnut handrail. To the right of the stairs was a huge built-in closet and a beautiful antique door that led into the back yard.
On the walls hung a muted beige, green, and yellow floral wallpaper that was incredibly tasteful. At the top of the first landing, next to the window, hung an antique, circular mirror.
Sophia squealed with delight and jumped up onto Nash's back. “You were right!” she declared, unable to look away from the stunning entryway. “It's absolutely perfect!”