The next morning, Megan drove Nash home from the hospital. They picked up Gus from Shep and Emma’s on the way since they’d watched him last night. After that, Megan got Nash settled onto the couch to rest, with Gus lying on the floor next to him. She topped Nash up with pain meds before she left to get started on her day. The kittens were still at her mom’s, but Megan intended to grab them soon.
With a thousand things racing through her mind, she arrived home twenty minutes later and looked around the apartment she’d renovated when she bought Kinky Spurs with the inheritance her grandmother left her. Megan loved this space, a mix of new with the original stone wall behind her television stand. Cedar beams separated the living room and the tiny kitchen with bright white cabinets and a quartz countertop. Though, standing in the her living room, she couldn’t ignore the worries that had come to light the second she heard Nash say, “Clint Harrison. If anyone is behind this, you know it’s him. My gut is telling me he still wants our land. I’m sure of it. This stinks of that dirty sonuvabitch.”
She almost believed Nash that this would be all okay. And maybe it would be. Eventually. But not now. Not even close to now. It occurred to Megan that she couldn’t exist like he did. Living minute by minute, not having a plan. It wasn’t only her now. And an apartment atop a bar was no place to raise a baby. Sure, Kinky Spurs was all Megan’s, and would stay hers, but the little one growing inside her belly needed what Megan had had: A backyard to play in. A proper kitchen table, not stools at the kitchen island. Most of all, the baby needed a nursery. A safe place to call home.
She grabbed herself a glass of lemonade then sat at the kitchen island with her laptop. Still missing the hell out of her morning coffee, she scanned through the available properties in River Rock on the town’s only real estate agency website, River Rock Real Estate. The market in River Rock had never been overly hot. Most properties listed for sale took a while to sell. Except for those in the country or near the mountains. Everyone was looking for the view, and most people looking in those areas came in with cash offers.
She continued to sip her cold drink and scroll through the properties, when one property immediately caught her eye. As did the fact that the real estate agent was Jannie, a woman Megan knew from high school.
After a quick snack to keep the nausea at bay and phone calls to Jannie, Harper, and Emma to meet her at the property, Megan arrived at the two-story white house. The home was within walking distance of Kinky Spurs, a definite added bonus, especially considering the daycare was close by too. Even though Megan was pretty sure her mom would want to watch the baby. Maybe even Jenny would too.
On the wraparound front porch with the single black door and a gold knocker, Jannie waited, along with Harper and Emma. “Hi,” Megan said, hurrying to reach them.
“So great to see you again, Megan,” Jannie said, offering her hand.
Megan returned the handshake with a smile. Jeez, Jannie hadn’t changed. At all. She’d been a cheerleader in high school. She was still shiny and perfect with a short brown bob and flawless makeup.
Jannie turned toward the door and typed a code into the lockbox. “I was surprised to get your call. Are you thinking about selling the bar?”
“Not the bar,” Megan explained, giving Harper and Emma a quick wink. They smiled back. “But I am considering renting my apartment, if you know of anyone who’s looking.” She’d need the income from the rental to help pay the mortgage on the house, considering she was already mortgaged up to her eyeballs on the bar. But she finagled some numbers after she got off the phone with Jannie, and the house was doable. Tight, but possible. Well, as long as the bank was good with a ten grand down payment, since that was all Megan could afford to pull out of her savings.
Jannie pulled out the key. “I’ll spread the word around, for sure.” She smiled at Megan. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble renting the place out. You’re right downtown. We’ll find a twentysomething who will be all over moving into your place.”
“Great.” Megan returned the smile then gave Harper a knowing look. Harper grinned right back. Of course, Jannie would spread the word. She had been a gossip back in high school. Maybe that was what made her such a good real estate agent now. She loved being in people’s business.
“Ready for a look?” Jannie asked.
“Yes!” said Emma, all but bouncing on her heels. “I’m dying to see the inside. The outside of this place is . . . wow.”
Even Megan wondered how this house was still on the market. Everything was perfect. Almost too perfect.
Jannie opened the door. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought all this on?” She let them enter first then shut the door behind her. “It’s a pretty big house just for you.”
Oh, yeah, Jannie was digging, but Megan wouldn’t spill this secret yet. She hadn’t even told her parents or Jenny about the baby. She’d had weeks to come to terms with her pregnancy. She figured she’d give Nash a little more time too. She plastered on her most innocent smile. “I’ve been wanting more space for a while now.”
Harper nodded. “It’s all our fault, really. We’ve been trying to get Megan out of that apartment for years.”
“And look at this place,” Emma said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Sometimes bigger is better, and this place really is gorgeous,” Jannie said. Albeit, the suspicious glint in her eyes told Megan she suspected more was going on. Luckily, she turned away, getting into her sales pitch. “You’ll find this house has new windows and a new furnace.” She handed out brochures of the property. “There’s also a recently added sunroom and a new roof.”
The house had a gorgeous white staircase with dark wooden stairs all leading to white wainscoting then to soft green painted walls. There was a living room to the right with a white fireplace and a gray-painted kitchen at the back with white cabinets. From the rug lining the hallway to the modern tables and furniture in the living room and foyer, the place looked move-in ready.
“The house has gone through a full renovation,” Jannie explained, dropping her business card on the small front table. “The owner is a flipper. He put a good fifty grand into the property.”
Which explained the perfection of the house. It was too perfect because no one lived there. The house had obviously been staged.
“His work is incredible,” said Emma, entering the living room. “The attention to detail is outstanding.”
“Totally amazing,” Harper called from the kitchen.
Megan chuckled. Of course Harper, being the chef, would go there first. Megan was still kinda stuck on the staircase. She could picture a little one running down those stairs on Christmas morning. Curious about a certain room in particular, she began climbing the stairs, holding onto the thick railing.
“If you ask me, he’s the best builder in River Rock,” Jannie said from downstairs.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Harper called from the kitchen in obvious defense of Chase. He owned Blackshaw Construction and built custom log homes and resort properties.
And yeah, he was the best.
Megan smiled to herself and headed down the hallway. On the left was a tiny bedroom fitted with a twin-sized bed and dresser that would make for a perfect home office. She went to the right where she passed the only bathroom in the house, fitted with a brand-new clawfoot bathtub and an all-glass shower. Nice. She kept on, finding in the main bedroom what she would expect in a historic Victorian home like this—a small space with a single door closet. The queen-size bed just fit, along with a small dresser. But there was a center rosette on the ceiling around the small crystal chandelier. She could definitely make that room work.
When she finally reached the last door, her breath caught in her throat. The room was painted a delicate yellow, almost as if the flipper knew she’d come looking for this house. Megan entered and ran her hands across the white crib set next to the rocking chair, emotion clawing at her throat.
Reality seemed to be hitting hard lately. She hadn’t ever considered children before because serious relationships hadn’t been her thing. She knew why. She’d been too caught up with Nash. No one else compared to him. Nash had always felt like the endgame, but she had also known he needed time to get his shit right. Especially when it came to her father.
Now the thought of getting married seemed even further away. There was a very good chance that once the baby news hit their families, the bomb would drop, and she would end up caught in the crossfire. Her throat began to tighten, and her heart began to race.
“This place could not get any cuter,” Harper said, entering the room.
“I agree,” Emma said, following her in. “I mean, look at this nursery. All you’d have to do is move in. Heck, maybe you could even get the furniture included.”
Megan nodded then moved to the window with the white curtains. She stared down at the backyard. On the patio was a grilling area with a stone bar and fireplace. But there was enough grass for a swing set. Maybe even a dog. “As beautiful as it is, this house is on the high end of my budget,” she admitted.
“Can’t you ask your dad for help?” Harper asked. “I mean, isn’t he a gazillionaire?”
“Not quite.” Megan laughed, turning around to sit on the windowsill. “Besides, he’s the rich one, not me.”
Emma dropped into the rocking chair. “Still, if you asked . . . ?”
“I’m sure he would help,” Megan said. “But that’s the last thing I want to do. I want my stuff to be mine, you know?”
Harper gave a firm nod and a quick smile. “And that’s what makes you so friggin’ awesome.” She moved to the crib then leaned her back against the wooden bars. “What about Nash? You’ll live together eventually, right? Maybe he could help you.”
Megan let out the loudest sigh of her life, feeling a thousand pounds pressing against her shoulders. “Right now, I’m trying to figure out how to make Nash and my dad get along, let alone move in to a place with Nash where my father would never go.”
Harper looked on with pity. “I’m sorry you heard us talking about your dad in the hospital.”
“Don’t be.” Megan’s throat tightened. She swallowed, pushing past the thick emotion. “I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t be used to it,” Emma said softly. She paused, her eyes turning sad. “It’s just hard, you know, with the history of your dad and stuff.”
“Yes, I know,” Megan agreed. “He’s been really awful to the Blackshaw family. But Nash doesn’t help that. And it doesn’t really change the fact that he’s my dad and he’s never been awful to me.”
Maybe it was something in her voice or her expression, but both Emma and Harper moved closer. Emma leaned forward and placed a hand on Megan’s arm, the warmth of her touch easing the tightness lingering in Megan’s chest.
“We’re here for you, babe,” Emma said. “Whatever you need from us. Whatever we can do to help you, we’ve got your back, and you know that Shep and Chase are there for you too.”
Harper gave a firm nod. “Always.”
“Thanks.” Megan smiled, knowing it probably looked sad.
“Thoughts?” Jannie asked, entering the room, oblivious to the swell of sadness in the room. “Should I draw up an offer?”
Megan nibbled her lip and pondered. She really did love this house and could see herself and the baby in it. “That’s the million-dollar question.”
“Well, no,” Jannie stated firmly. “It’s a two-hundred-thousand-dollar question.”
* * *
Beneath the big shade tree next to the small creek that ran through Blackshaw land, Nash sat in his cedar Adirondack chair in his backyard. The day was too nice to sit inside on the couch, and Gus had whined to get out. Nash had spent the past ten minutes throwing a tennis ball to Gus to get some of his steam out, and enjoying the sunny day. The dog caught the ball then ran back along the grass until he reached Nash, tossing the tennis ball up to land in Nash’s lap. “Good boy,” Nash said.
Being careful not to turn his body, he threw the ball as far as he could, keeping his injured arm still on the armrest. Gus beelined for the ball, doing what Labradors do best. The burn on Nash’s shoulder was an annoying pain until the area was cleaned. That job had been left to his mother, who had come this morning and would return every night to rebandage him up. Which was why his shoulder felt raw and achy.
“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”
Gus spun around and ran turned toward the voice. Nash glanced over his shoulder finding Shep standing behind him with his arms crossed over his black T-shirt that read BLACKSHAW SURVIVAL. A black blur beelined to Gus announcing Houdini’s arrival. And next to Shep, Chase wore a white T-shirt with BLACKSHAW CONSTRUCTION on his chest. Nash didn’t like the mood that seeing their logos put him in. Of course, he was happy for and proud of his brothers. Damn, they were good at what they did. Shep had government contracts to train soldiers to survive in the wilderness. Chase was currently building a multimillion-dollar log resort out in Colorado Springs. But sometimes, their successes only reminded Nash of his failures. Which maybe got to him more today because his damn shoulder kept him at home.
Staying busy turned his head off.
“I am resting,” he finally answered, turning back as Gus tossed the ball into his hand. He threw the ball again, and Gus went running, and so did Houdini. Gus got to the ball first, but then he dropped the ball for the puppy, who began chewing the ball.
Chase laughed then dropped down next to Nash, handing him a cold beer. “Megan would kill you if she saw you giving me beer,” Nash told his brother. “Apparently meds and beer don’t mix.”
“Good thing she’s not here, then.” Chase lifted his bottle.
Nash clinked his to Chase’s, then chuckled. “Brave when she’s not here. Tightlipped when she is. You’re such a pussy.”
Chase snorted, and after he lowered his beer from his mouth, he said, “It’s not about bravery. It’s about survival.”
Nash laughed against the rim of his bottle. “Wimp.” He took a long sip, relishing the crisp, clean taste of Foxy Diva. Some beers were too hoppy. Others too bitter. Some even too sweet. Not Foxy Diva. The Three Chicks Brewery pale ale was sheer perfection. “How’s the farm?” Nash asked no one in particular.
Shep took a seat on the grass, one elbow resting on his knee. “Beckett and Hayes have taken over the guest ranch. They’ve got things handled.”
“Good.” One less thing to worry about. “Any word on the fire?”
Chase leaned his back against the thick tree trunk. “The fire marshal and crew are out there today sifting through the rubble. He won’t tell us a damn thing. Said we need to wait for the final report.”
Nash took another long sip of his beer, still feeling like shit for Megan hearing him talking about her father at the hospital. And yet . . . and yet, his instincts leaned in that direction. Careful not to mention names, he asked, “Any word from the cops if they agree the fire was purposely set?”
“It’s all speculation at this point,” Shep said with a slight shrug.
Nash already knew the fire was no accident. But he also believed his brothers needed evidence. And Nash had learned now to keep his mouth shut. “How long will the investigation take?”
Chase drew in a long breath then said in a deep voice, “We’ll gather all the evidence and data then come up with a hypothesis. After that, we challenge the hypothesis until we believe without a doubt that we have the right answer.”
Nash laughed. “I take it that’s the fire marshal speaking?”
Chase nodded. “Which basically means anywhere from a few days to a number of months.”
“Let’s hope it’s the former,” Nash said, then took a big gulp of beer.
Gus returned with the ball then and tossed it onto Nash’s lap. Houdini was still near the creek. Nash threw it near him, and Houdini jumped in the creek. Gus charged into the water, grabbing the ball first, nudging the puppy out of the water.
Nash smiled. His dog was going to be good with the baby. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind.
“Once we have the information we need,” said Shep, breaking the silence, “we’ll move ahead.”
Yeah, like knocking Harrison’s teeth out.
As if Chase had read Nash’s mind, he asked, “What about Megan in all this?”
Nash finished off three more big sips. That was where everything got complicated. “She stays out of it. There’s no reason she needs to be involved. It’s business. What I have with her isn’t.”
Shep and Chase exchanged a long look before Shep rose and cupped Nash’s uninjured shoulder. “For your sake, I hope it’s that simple.”
No one said much after that. Nash knew why. The situation was complex, and everyone was aware of that. But Nash could keep Megan out of this. He had no doubt.
When they finished their beers, Shep and Chase left with Houdini, returning to their jobs. Nash kept playing ball with Gus until the dog plopped down next to him, finally exhausted. Just so happened that beer and the drugs he had taken that morning were the perfect cocktail to make Nash tired too.
He shut his eyes, wanting to rest them. But when he opened them again, he had no clue how much time had passed until he also realized he wasn’t alone.
Megan offered him a glass of a water and two pills. “Why are you out here?”
He accepted both and tossed the pills back before handing her the glass. He considered if maybe Chase was right, and he should keep his trap shut for survival purposes. He quickly decided against it. There was enough he wasn’t telling Megan. What he could, he would. “Chase and Shep came over for a beer.”
She laughed. “Is that your brothers’ way of checking in on you?”
“Yup.” He smiled then gestured to his lap. “Come here, Freckles.”
She carefully slid onto his lap. “That is honestly the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”
He followed her gaze off to the right, realizing that she’d brought the kittens home at some point. They were all curled up with Gus, sleeping between his paws and his face. “I’ve never seen him so attached before,” he told her.
Megan nodded, staring down at them. “He does seem to be madly and deeply in love.”
Nash leaned his head back, trying to fight against the slight pain the move caused. “What time is it?”
“Three o’clock.”
“You’ve been gone a while. We’re you out causing all types of trouble?”
She laughed. “Oh, yes, if you consider going with the girls to look at a house I’m thinking about buying ‘trouble.’”
That surprised him. “You’re moving?”
She gave him a knowing look. “My apartment isn’t really baby-friendly.”
He hesitated, absorbing all this. He’d thought she’d move in with him. But that was his arrogance talking. “Did you like the place?”
“Loved it, actually,” she said. “It’s not far from the Spurs, so it’s got a great location.” She paused then gave a little shrug. “I’m working out the finances and stuff, but I think it’s doable.”
He slid his good hand along her arm. He liked this tank top she wore. The thin straps gave him so much access to her smooth skin. “How much do you need from me?”
She frowned. “Need from you?”
“Yeah, for the house . . . how much money do you need from me?”
“Nothing,” she said, way too fast.
At that, he raised his brows. “You need nothing?”
She fumbled a little then recovered quick. “Well, no, I mean, of course, I’ll need something down the road. But not like a monthly thing, just diapers maybe. Daily stuff to help me get by.”
He cocked his head, studying her. Hard. He didn’t like what she’d said. She sounded like a single mother.
Before he could speak up to figure out where her head was at, fierce mewls cut through the silence.
“Oh, you sweet babies, it must be feeding time,” Megan cooed. “Can you grab the black one?” she asked, reaching for the gray-and-white kittens. Without another word to him, she headed toward the house, with Gus following her, wagging his tail.
Nash remained rooted to the spot. For as long as he could remember, he had loved Megan’s independence. Christ, that was what had snagged him originally. She was strong and fierce, and she had a good head on her shoulders. But now she seemed to be planning her life around him, not with him. Maybe he deserved that.
His jaw began working as he scooped up the last black kitten, who screeched at him. He lifted the kitten up to his face, a plan suddenly taking shape in his mind. “Listen, squirt, it’s me and you in this now. We gotta show her that I can raise you without fucking up, okay?”
The kitten ravenously screeched again.
He took that as a yes.