Lone Star Rancher (17 page)

CHAPTER 5

N
ash stood in the Fortunes' main barn looking at Megan, certain he must have misunderstood what she'd just told him. But then, he couldn't mishear something like
I'm terrified of horses. Terrified. Terr. I. Fied.

It was kind of hard to miss her point.

“How can you be scared of a horse?” he asked. Hell, it made more sense to be scared of a lace tablecloth. After all, you could spill something on a lace tablecloth and get yelled at by your stepmom. He should know. To this day, he was in no way comfortable around tatting of any kind. “Horses are harmless.”

“They're big,” Megan said. “And they have teeth. Big teeth. And they bite.”

“They only bite people who are asking for it,” Nash said. “A nice lady like you, you won't have any problem.”

“Hah,” Megan scoffed. “And again, I say, hah. And in case I didn't mention it, hah.”

Nash shook his head. Not only was Misty, the old gray mare Steven had told him to put Megan on, the gentlest creature to ever come down the pike, but Nash wasn't even sure how many teeth the animal still had. He'd certainly never known the horse to bite anyone. Even people who deserved it.

“Misty is the sweetest horse you'll ever meet,” he told Megan. “Trust me.”

She eyed him dubiously and reiterated, “Hah.”

“Steven told me you know how to ride,” Nash said, taking another tack. “He said you used to ride all the time when y'all were kids.”

“I do know how to ride,” Megan assured him. “I just don't want to. Ever again. For the rest of my natural life.”

Well, that was pretty specific, Nash thought. And then, suddenly, he understood. The only reason people who'd ridden as kids stopped riding for the rest of their natural lives was because they had a bad experience at some point that made them wary of ever getting back on a horse again.

“It's got nothing to do with big teeth and biting,” he said. “You got thrown real bad once, didn't you?”

Her mouth flattened into a tight line, but she nodded.

“Darlin', that happens to even the most experienced riders every now and then. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It didn't make me ashamed,” she said quickly—
and, he had to admit, without an ounce of shame. “It made me terrified.
Terrified. Terr. I. Fied.
”

“So you've said.”

“Well, if you heard me say it, then why do you keep carping on it?”

“Because it's stupid, that's why,” he told her. “Now come here.”

She thrust out her lower lip mutinously, and Nash nearly laughed out loud. “Please,” he qualified belatedly. “Come here.”

She stuffed her hands into her back pockets defiantly, but took enough steps forward to be standing beside Nash in front of Misty's stall.

“Megan Lavery,” he said, “I'd like you to meet Misty, uh, Gray. Misty Gray, meet Megan Lavery.”

The horse, at least, had some sense of courtesy, because she ambled over to the stall door and softly whinnied a greeting. Megan at least didn't bolt in the opposite direction, which Nash had halfway expected. But neither did she extend a hand to the animal, as polite manners dictated.

Nash reached out his own hand and wrapped his fingers lightly around hers. Then, noting only a small reluctance on her part to withdraw it when she realized his intention, he began to guide it toward the horse's head.

“I don't—” she began.

But she never finished whatever she'd intended to say. Which was just as well, because Nash wasn't listening anyway, on account of his body started to mal
function the second he touched her. Heat fizzled through him as if he'd suffered a short circuit in his wiring, and his brain went completely on the fritz. But that was nothing compared to the buzzing that erupted in his ears or the shock wave that shuddered through his entire system.

Damn, he thought. If that was what happened just touching her hand, what would it do to him if he touched—

He halted the thought right there before completing the thought. Somehow, he knew even thinking about touching some other body part than the ones that were readily accessible would make him spontaneously combust.

Forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand…Uh, what was it again…? Oh, yeah. Getting Megan comfortable with Misty. Forcing himself to focus on that, he guided her hand to the mare's velvety muzzle and cupped her fingers over it. The horse whinnied softly again, bumping her nose lightly against Megan's fingers. Nash grinned when he saw Megan's smile.

“See there?” he said. “She's gentle as a lamb.”

“
Silence of the Lambs,
maybe,” Megan muttered.

But he could see she was softening toward the creature. He let her get comfortable with the mare, listened while she talked to Misty and even leaned forward to nuzzle noses with her, until she finally relented and agreed that okay, if she had to, she could probably get on a horse again and ride, even though
it had been years, and Nash better not laugh at her or else she'd kick him in the shins. He laughed as she complained, and bantered playfully with her, thinking he hadn't had this much fun with a woman for a long time.

Together, they led Misty out to the corral, and together they saddled her up. Megan commented that riding a horse was like riding a bicycle—you never really forgot how—then mounted the mare like an expert.

“How long did you say it's been since you rode?” he asked as she adjusted herself on the saddle, getting her balance.

“Oh, gosh, probably twenty years or so,” she said. “Not since before I learned to drive.”

Nash was reminded of how much older she was than him, but he'd be damned if he felt a single one of the years between them. He'd been on his own since he left home at sixteen after his father had taken off with wife number four, something that had matured him pretty quickly. And Megan had a playful streak in her that shaved quite a bit off her own age. All in all, he figured they pretty well met somewhere in the middle.

He wondered what would happen if they met somewhere else.

That hot feeling starting simmering in his midsection again, so he pushed the thought away and led Misty and Megan around the corral for a few minutes. Then he let Megan take over on her own while he sad
dled his own horse, a gelding named Buck he'd bought himself for his twenty-first birthday.

He was about to lift the saddle onto Buck's back when he heard a sound everyone in this part of Texas recognized, but which no one ever wanted to hear: the shake, clatter and roll of a rattlesnake. And it was way too close for comfort.

“Um, Nash?”

He knew before he even turned around that Megan had heard it, too, but it was only when he'd completed the rotation that he realized she also saw it. Because he saw it then, too, coiled up in a patch of sunlight near the fence—less than a foot away from where Misty, who'd also obviously seen it now, came to a halt.

Before Nash or Megan could do anything, the horse took matters into her own hands. With a toss of her head and an unholy shriek, she rose on her hind legs and pawed violently at the air. Then she came down on all fours again and bolted. As fast as she could. Right through the open gate of the corral. Jerking her reins from Megan's hands.

Who, Nash could see as she disappeared, was clinging to the animal's mane for dear life.

CHAPTER 6

A
s the wind screeched through Megan's hair and the horse beneath her bucked and shimmied, one thought and one alone circled through her head:
Gentle as a lamb my aunt Fanny.

In less than a nanosecond, Misty had gone from
mild thing
to
wild thang,
and Megan had no idea what to do—short of panicking. She'd been so surprised by the appearance of the snake and Misty's violent reaction to it that she hadn't been prepared when the animal lurched and bolted, and the reins had been stripped right out of her hands. At the moment, they were flapping in the wind too far from her reach, so she gripped Misty's mane with both fists and held on.

Think, Megan, think,
she instructed herself. And, just like that, she went into executive mode. Which meant no panicking allowed. Which meant reasoning this thing out.

She wrapped Misty's mane around her fingers, clenched her legs tight around the horse's middle and
reminded herself that she'd ridden bareback before, when she was very young, even if it hadn't been at great speed. And Misty was eating up ground faster than Megan drove on the 405. Of course, the 405 was generally clogged with traffic, but that was beside the point. The point was that if Megan didn't do something quickly, she—and Misty—would be back in L.A. a lot sooner than she'd planned.

And strangely, in spite of her current situation, she realized she didn't want to return to L.A. just yet. No, she wanted to stay in Red Rock long enough to…Wow, she marveled when she realized where the thought was going. Long enough to get to know Nash Ridley a little—no,
a lot
—better, which she wouldn't be able to do unless she did something to stop Misty's mad dash.

Forcing herself to remain calm, she tried everything she could think to do to slow the horse's speed, but Misty would not be slowed. She was a spry little thing for her age, and evidently had rattlesnake issues even worse than Megan's horse issues. So Megan clung to the beast with her fists and her knees as well as she could and waited for Misty to tire.

She had no idea how long or far the mare had been running when Nash finally drew up alongside both of them on his big, buff-colored horse, but their arrival calmed Misty down immediately.

She slowed enough that Nash was able to pass her, then gently guide her to slowing even more. Eventu
ally, she trotted to a stop, shaking her head, gasping for breath and making frightened little horsey sounds.

Megan immediately leaped to the ground. Nash followed, gathering both horses' reins in one hand before striding over to where she stood, bent with her hands braced on her knees, reacting much like Misty, save the horsey sounds. Although, her breathing did sound a little off….

“Guess the old gray mare just ain't what she used to be, huh?” Nash asked with a grin.

Miraculously, Megan controlled the urge to smack him upside the head. Instead, she said between breaths, “As God is my witness…I will never…get on a horse…ever again…for the rest of my…natural…life.”

“I dunno,” Nash said. “You did awfully well for someone who's
terr-i-fied
of horses. I'm thinkin' maybe they don't scare you as much as you thought. I'm thinkin' maybe you'd do all right, if, say…you had to work on a ranch or something.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but for some reason found herself reluctant to disagree with him. She told herself it was because she didn't want to argue with him. Somehow, though, she didn't think that was quite it. “Well, then, I'm not getting on a horse again today,” she qualified.

“Okay,” he said. “But that's gonna make the trip back to the Flying Aces a little longer than it needs to be. I think ol' Misty here covered a good mile or two before we got her stopped.”

“No…problem,” Megan said. “It's a…good day…for walking.”

He looked up at the cloudy sky overhead. “Actually, it's not.”

“The rain'll hold off for a little longer,” she assured him, echoing Steven's earlier words.

But Nash had started shaking his head before Megan even finished talking. “Actually, I don't think it will,” he told her.

She glanced up, too, and as if cued by his comment, a single, cold drop of rain splashed onto her face. Followed by another. Then another. And another.

“Dammit,” she said.

He looked at her and smiled. “So then you're not one of those girls who likes piña coladas and gettin' caught in the rain, huh?”

“On the contrary. I could really go for a piña colada right now. Or, better still, a nice big shot of tequila.”

He chuckled at that, then graduated to full blown laughter as the skies opened up and let loose with a downpour.

“Dammit,”
Megan said again, with more feeling this time.

Nash extended Misty's reins toward her silently, but Megan shook her head. She was not getting back on that horse for a while. Once burned, twice shy and all that. Twice burned and, well… Suffice it to say
she was having uncharitable thoughts about a glue factory.

“I'll walk,” she stated adamantly.

Nash shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he released both sets of reins and whistled out a command, and both horses took off at a trot in the direction of the Flying Aces. Obviously he intended to walk with her. Obviously, she didn't mind. She smiled at him through the rain, and he smiled back, and suddenly, she rather did like the thought of getting caught in the rain.

“You sure they'll be able to find their way back?”

He nodded. “Better than we will, probably.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “Don't you know where we are?”

“Pretty much,” he told her.

“
Pretty
much?” she echoed.

“Well, I got a little frantic when Misty took off with you, and I didn't pay much attention to which way she headed—I just took off after her. And she zigged and zagged a lot, and since the sun's not out, and there are no trees out here to look for moss on…”

“Is that really true?” Megan asked, interrupting. “That you can figure out directions by looking at moss on a tree? I thought that was a myth.”

He eyed her in silence for a minute, then reached out to run his fingers over her head, as if checking for bumps. “You sure you didn't take a spill at some point during that ride?” he asked. “You're not making much sense.”

She started to duck out from under his hand, but something made her stop. Mostly the fact that she kind of liked the way it felt to have him touching her. So she only met his gaze levelly and said, “I'm fine. Just a little rattled.”

Nash said nothing, just continued to stroke his hand gently over her now wet hair. But his gaze never left hers, and hers never left his, and for a minute, they only stood there in the rain staring at each other while he touched her and she wanted desperately to touch him.

Finally, when she couldn't stand it anymore, Megan lifted a hand and, after only a small hesitation, she moved her fingers to his mouth and ran them gently over his lower lip. He closed his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them again, his pupils were huge and dark and hungry.

“Rattled, huh?” he said softly. The hand on her hair moved back to her neck, and he closed his fingers around her warm nape. “Well, darlin', that makes two of us.”

And before Megan realized what was happening, he was lowering his head to hers.

 

THE END

 

Want to read more? Look for the continuation of
Home on the Range
in the bonus features of the next THE FORTUNES OF TEXAS: REUNION book,
The Good Doctor
by Karen Rose Smith.