Chapter Three
Wearing a plaid pearl snap shirt, creased jeans, and polished cowboy boots, Nash timed it so that services had already started when he pulled into the church parking lot. After all, he’d promised his grandmother that he’d show up, not necessarily that he’d be on time. His plan was to sneak in, sit in the back pew, and get out in a hurry the minute the last amen was said. He shook the legs of his jeans down over his boot tops and made it to the church foyer.
The sweet strands of the congregation singing “It Is No Secret” glued his feet to the floor, and he couldn’t force himself to go inside. The lyrics said that God would pardon him and it was no secret what God could do. His grandmother believed that, but Nash had his doubts. God might be able to work miracles and magic, but so far Nash hadn’t seen much of either. He turned around and slipped away, closing the door gently behind him, and drove back to the Texas Star.
Guilt followed him into the house because he’d told his grandmother that he would go to church that Sunday, and he was a man of his word. He turned on the television and flipped through the channels to one that played old western movies, then watched a little of a John Wayne that he’d seen a dozen times. After a few minutes, he turned off the television, grabbed a light denim jacket and his cowboy hat, and wandered out to sit on the porch steps. It was a lovely fall day, a nice brisk breeze ruffling what was left of the leaves on the trees surrounding the house. But he drifted back two years to that place where sand and heat surrounded him. The vehicle in front of him was blowing up in slow motion and there wasn’t one thing he could do to prevent it. He shook his head so hard that his cowboy hat flew off and landed out in the yard.
“Replace those thoughts with something good.” He repeated his therapist’s words out loud.
The fall leaves lying on the ground caught his attention. The burgundy ones reminded him of Kasey’s red hair. A few were the color of her emerald green eyes and the shimmery gold ones were like that gold satin dress that hugged her curves.
He did not have the right to use Kasey as his go-to bright spot to help him crawl up out of the dark places. He left the porch, picked up his hat, and settled it on his head. Then he started toward the barn, only to find Hero at his heels when he’d gone about halfway.
“I’m not taking you home this time, boy. I’m not feeding you or letting you inside the house. If you want to snoop around, that’s fine, but you do not live here,” he said.
Hero followed him into the barn and sniffed around while Nash did repairs on the six stalls. Usually, fixing something put his mind at ease, but that morning, it didn’t work so well. His thoughts kept going back to Kasey in that gold dress and every single word that had come out of her mouth.
His stomach growled and he checked his phone for the time. Noon. He’d been working on the stalls for two hours and Hero had disappeared. The white cat that he and Rustin had petted together wandered out of nowhere, then went back toward the tack room. He made a mental note to pick up a bag of cat food next time he was in Amarillo. A cat in the barn would help keep the mouse population down.
Shivering against the cold north wind that had kicked up while he’d been busy with a hammer and nails, Nash pulled his collar up and headed toward the house in a slow jog. He hung his jacket on a nail inside the back door and removed his hat. He made a ham sandwich and carried it along with a bag of chips through the door into the other room. He turned on the television and flipped through the channels, but nothing kept his attention for more than a few seconds.
The place felt empty, so he put his jacket back on, set his hat on his head, and took off in long strides toward the corral on the backside of the barn where the sheep were. Propping a foot on the fence and his arms on the top rail, he counted them—one ram, nine ewes, and two lambs. They were at peace but he wasn’t, and there was nothing that needed his attention right then. He started walking toward the back corner of the property where his little herd of Angus cattle had been grazing this past week. A small creek ran through the Texas Star—good, clear water that meant he didn’t have to sink a well or keep a tank filled for the cattle. It cut through at an angle and then widened out as it bubbled its way over to Hope Springs on just the other side of the barbed-wire fence.
One second he was on his side of the fence, the next he was following the creek to see where it led. A few minutes later he came to a place that took his breath. Clear, cold water tumbling over rocks, a grassy bank, and a big weeping willow tree, still with a few leaves attached to the drooping limbs, all beckoned to him. He squatted down and stuck his hand in the water but removed it when it got so cold that it ached. Straightening up, he made his way to the willow tree. He sat down with his back against the trunk and began to hum “Amazing Grace.” A rare smile appeared when the words played through his mind saying that he once was lost but now was found.
“I’m in church, Addy, but not in a building. I am lost, but if I could have the peace I feel right here, I could possibly find my way home,” he mumbled.
*
Any day that Kasey had fifteen minutes to herself was a rarity. But that Sunday afternoon after church, she had two whole hours. A luxury in any mother’s book, even if she did love her children. Tradition was that they decorated for Christmas the Sunday after Thanksgiving, but since Brody and Lila wouldn’t return from their very short honeymoon until Monday, it had been postponed until Tuesday evening. Sunday dinner had been over at her mother’s place, the Prairie Rose Ranch.
She was ready to go home when she and her mother found Emma and Silas both asleep on the sofa. Rustin and Jace were watching a football game together, and he’d offered to bring all the kids home after the game and naps were done.
She’d thought about taking a long, warm bath with candles, bubbles, and a good romance book. No kids to knock on the door every five minutes wanting her to settle a fight or to hurry up and get done so she could make them a snack. Then she’d entertained the notion of going to the café and sitting in a back booth all alone with a big chunk of Molly’s pecan pie and a cup of coffee, but she’d just had dinner and she wasn’t hungry. She drove back to Hope Springs and settled into the recliner with a book but not even the steamy scenes between the cowboy and the sassy lady kept her attention.
Finally, after restlessly pacing around the living room and dining area a few times, she shoved her feet into a pair of worn work boots, her arms into a canvas work coat, and headed out the back door. A long walk would do her more good than a long bath anyway, especially after the huge Thanksgiving dinner, the wedding reception dinner, and then another big meal that day over on Prairie Rose.
With Rustin’s half-grown dog chasing along in front of her and his two litter mates coming behind her, she walked over to the fence separating Hope Springs from the Texas Star. With Nash in the house now and his sheep in the corral behind the barn, kids wouldn’t go there on Saturday night to play loud music and hang out with their friends. Country kids respected animals, so they wouldn’t spook the livestock. Henry had never kept cattle up close to the barn and neither had Paul McKay, Adam’s father and also the rancher who’d leased the land after Henry had disappeared.
The old sheet iron building had been the place to go on Saturday nights. At least that’s where they’d hung out when she and Adam were teenagers. Drinking a few beers when they were underage, dancing to country music turned up as high as someone’s truck radio would go, making out in the loft—that was Saturday night fun.
“Oh, Adam, I miss those weekends we spent there.” With a long sigh she turned around and started walking back toward the house, but when she came to the fork in the path, she took the right one and headed toward Hope Springs. Checking to make sure her phone was turned on so that Jace could call when he got home with the children, she whistled for the dogs. They bounded out of a copse of scrub oak trees and ran out ahead of her again, eager to continue the adventure.
When they reached the springs, all the dogs didn’t waste a bit of ti
me getting to the edge of the water for a long, cool drink. Kasey parted the bare branches of the willow tree so she could sit awhile and listen to the peaceful bubbling water. Her eyes widened and her heart kicked in an extra beat when she realized that Nash Lamont was sleeping soundly under her tree.
She eased down, sitting a couple of feet from him and stared her fill of the long, tall cowboy. Heavy black lashes rested on cheekbones so chiseled and perfect that they’d make a sculptor swoon. His big hands were folded in his lap and his legs stretched out so far that the branches touched his boots. Her eyes followed the length of his body from eyelashes to toes and back again. He had to be at least six feet three inches tall because he was taller than Brody. He didn’t look so dark and intense in sleep, but reminded her of a little boy like Rustin with his dark hair and eyes.
His eyes fluttered open and his head jerked around so quickly that his hat fell off to one side. He combed his black hair back with his fingertips and cut his dark brown eyes around toward Kasey. “Guess I’m trespassing.”
“Neighbors don’t trespass. They’re welcome.” She smiled.
“Thank you. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. It’s just so peaceful here with the sound of the water and the willow branches.” He covered a yawn with his hand. “Excuse me. I haven’t slept like that in two years.”
“I’ve always felt like when I get under these drooping branches that none of the world or its problems can reach me,” she said. “Believe me, I’ve taken lots of naps right here and worked through lots of problems. I thought we might see you in church this mornin’.”
“I was there but I couldn’t make myself go inside,” he said, honestly.
She reached across the space separating them and laid her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. When you feel like it, we’ll make you welcome.”
There it was again—that little flutter in her gut. So it hadn’t just been the balcony in the barn or the aura around the wedding.
A faint smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “I like this church better.”
“So do I, but my mama and grandmother would have a fit if I declared that I’d be spending Sunday morning out under a tree appreciating God’s handiwork in Mother Nature,” she admitted.
He nodded and reached for his hat. “What time is it?”
“Getting close to three,” she answered.
“I should be going and let you have your time here,” he said. “Have to start feeding the sheep in about an hour.”
“Stay awhile,” she said. “If you like ranchin’ so much, whatever made you go to the army?”
“Felt like my country needed me.”
“My husband thought that same thing, but he planned to come back to Texas when he retired and ranch the rest of his life.”
Nash nodded but didn’t say anything.
Sitting there with him without talking should have been awkward but it wasn’t. Her mind wandered to her own thoughts about Adam, but she kept sneaking peeks at Nash. At one time his brow was furrowed so deep that she feared he’d never get the wrinkles out. At another, a tiny smile tickled the corners of his lips.
Had he had a wife at one time or maybe a girlfriend? Did the memories of times they shared make him happy, or was he thinking of that when he frowned? Nash Lamont was certainly not an open book like Adam had been or her brothers, and he intrigued Kasey. She wanted him to talk to her, to tell her stories, especially those of what kind of life he’d had when he was in the sand pit, as Adam called it.
Maybe karma or fate or God—whatever anyone wanted to call it—had sent him to Happy to talk to her about what life was really like over there. If she knew, then maybe she could move on.
*
“So did you and Adam used to come out here?” Nash felt guilty the minute he said the words. He had no right to bring up what had to be a painful subject.
Before Kasey could answer, three half-grown black Labrador dogs flopped down on one side of him. One laid his head in Nash’s lap and looked up at him with big round eyes, begging to get his ears rubbed. The other two were so close to him that he could feel their little hearts doing double-time.
“They were gettin’ a drink the last time I noticed them. I guess they’ve been out chasin’ squirrels or rabbits,” Kasey said. “And to answer your question, Adam and I never came here at all. We swam in the springs on the hottest days of summer when we thought we could stand the cold water, but we never sat under the willow tree,” she answered.
He didn’t want to interfere with precious memories, but that she hadn’t shared this place with Adam made the black cloud that was ever present rise above his head—only a few inches, not a whole mile, but he couldn’t wait to tell the therapist on his next visit.
“Which one is that?” He pointed at the dog wagging her tail.
“That’s Princess, Emma’s dog. And this one is Doggy.” She smiled.
“I’m guessing Silas picked Doggy, huh? And I can understand why your daughter chose Princess, but why Hero?”
“Rustin likes Superman, Batman, and all the superheroes. He couldn’t decide which one to name the dog because he didn’t want to hurt the others’ feelings. He pondered over it for a whole day before he finally decided if he named his dog Hero it would cover the whole lot of them,” she explained.
Nash stroked their fur, giving each one equal time. “Labs are good dogs for kids.”
“Yep.” Kasey nodded. “Doggy lets Silas wallow all over him, and trails along behind him like a babysitter. You got a dog over on your place?”
Nash shook his head. “Not yet. If I stay after this year, I might look for a blue heeler. They’re pretty good with cows and sheep both.”
“If you stay?”
“I promised my grandmother that I’d stick it out for a year, so I’m committed to that much.” He stood up so fast that he was a blur. Talking to her was good—maybe too good—but the flight mode was twisting his heart into a pretzel. It didn’t hit often these days, but when it did, he had to be alone. “Have a nice afternoon. I’m sure we’ll meet up again.”
“Right back atcha,” she said, nodding. “I’ve got to get back to the house, too, so I’ll walk with you to the fork in the pathway.”
“What path? I came by way of the creek.”
“There’s a shorter way for you to get home. I’ll show you.” She started off in the opposite direction of the way he’d come.
So much for running away. His therapist said that he should face his problems head-on, take them by the horns like they were a bull and spit in their face. Maybe this was one of those times, but Nash just wanted to get back across that barbed-wire fence and crawl back into his own little safe world.
“This way,” she said.
Shortening his stride so that she didn’t have to do double-time, he stole sidelong glances at her. The afternoon sunlight highlighted the curly red ponytail that whipped from side to side as she walked. Her body was that of a woman, not a young girl—just the right size for a man to hold. Full lips were made for kissing and her bright green eyes for mischief. He wished he’d known her years ago, maybe even before she and Adam had become an item.
No, no, no! That aggravating voice in his head screamed. Don’t even begin to think like that. It’s not right. This is not grabbing the bull by the horns at all.
*
“Well, here’s where we part ways unless you want to come over for a cup of coffee and some cookies left over from Thanksgiving,” Kasey said when they reached the division of the rutted pathway.
“Better not,” he answered.
“About a quarter of a mile down that way, you’ll come to the fence that separates our two ranches. From there it’s just a little ways to your barn,” she told him, wishing that he’d have a change of mind.
With a tip of his hat and the slightest nod, he left her there in front of an old oak log and lengthened his stride. She watched his swagger until he was completely out of sight and wondered what he’d been like as a younger m
an.
“And I bet all the girls went crazy over that southern drawl,” she muttered.
In a few minutes she was back at the house. She’d kicked off her boots and was hanging up her coat when the front door opened. Rustin and Emma rushed in, and when Jace put Silas on the floor, his chubby little legs tried to catch up with the other two. Jace helped Kasey remove their coats and hang them on the hall tree before he went right back out the door to do evening chores.
“I wanted to go outside and play with Hero. I bet he missed me today,” Rustin said.
Emma folded her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. “And Princess needs me.”
Silas headed toward the hall tree for his coat. “Doggy?”
“Your dogs have been out running all afternoon and they’re asleep in the barn right now. I took them for a walk and they’re very tired, so figure out something to play with. Remember, Rustin, you go back to school tomorrow, and Emma, you’re going with me and Granny to the church to help get things decorated for Christmas,” she said.
“I thought we were decorating our house tomorrow,” Rustin said.
“That’s on Tuesday after your Uncle Brody and Aunt Lila get home,” she said. “Right now you can each bring a toy or a book from your room and play in the foyer or the living room. But when you get done, you have to take that one back before you bring anything else out.”
“That’s great mothering.” Hope made her way into the kitchen through the back door. “Your mama sent over the leftover roast. I thought maybe we’d pull it apart and make hot beef sandwiches for supper. Maybe some macaroni and cheese and fried apples to go with it. Silas loves those two things.” She hung her coat on a hook by the back door and went straight to the pantry. “I’ll peel the apples if you’ll start the water for macaroni. There ain’t nothing crankier in the world than a hungry kid.”
Kasey looped an apron over her head. “Or a hungry cowboy. Jace is doing chores by himself since Brody is off on his honeymoon, and they’ve let all hired help go until spring. So he’s going to work up an appetite.”
Long, Tall Cowboy Christmas (Happy, Texas Book 2) Page 4