Nash had been awake since the crack of dawn the following day, waiting to make the twenty-minute drive across town to deal with Clint. For an hour, Nash lay in bed next to Megan, watching her sleep, the moonlight cascading across her face. She was on her back, one arm slung over her head, the other hand on the belly that was getting rounder every time he looked. He wondered if she knew she slept like that. He slid his hand beneath hers, touching Megan and his child. His child. Christ, he was lucky. Since his accident, he’d struggled to find purpose or any sort of meaning in his life. He hated his injury. He cursed fate for stealing away his dreams. And yet now he knew he would have walked away from it all for her. For this. For this life she’d given him.
When Megan finally opened her eyes, she smiled, reaching depths in Nash’s heart that had never been reached before. For all that he thought he’d lost up until this point in his life, he realized he’d needed to lose it all, so he could gain everything that mattered.
And Megan mattered. Did she ever.
On his side, his head resting on one hand, he stroked her belly. “I have to leave for the ranch soon.”
She placed her hand on top of his. “Already?”
He nodded.
She reached for his hand and slid it up until he cupped her breast with an already taut nipple. “Anything I can do to change your mind?” she purred.
Heat flooded his groin, hardening him, and taking all his sweet thoughts and turning them dirty. “You just did.”
He slid in behind her, keeping his hand on her breast. She shifted more onto her side, rested her top leg over his, and he entered her, finding her wet and ready. After that, there was only pleasure, until he satisfied his woman.
Thirty minutes later, he returned from a hot shower to find that Megan had fallen back asleep with Gus sleeping next to her and the cats in the basket by the bed. Nash leaned against the doorframe and smiled. His family.
With a long sigh, knowing what came next wasn’t going to be enjoyable, he gave a soft whistle.
Gus jumped off the bed and followed Nash outside. They hit the road a second later. The trees were a blur by his windshield, and the gloomy day wasn’t helping his mood.
When he finally drove through the Irish Creek Ranch gates, it came as no surprise that even before Nash could exit his truck, the Irish Creek cowboys were already taking steps toward him. He didn’t fault any of them for that. Hell, he respected their loyalty to their boss, even if Nash despised who they were loyal to.
Nash paid them no attention and stepped out of the truck, and Gus followed him out. He headed straight for the door and knocked. When it opened, Loretta smiled at him. “Oh, Nash. This is a surprise.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Harrison.”
Her smile brightened, opening the door a little wider. “I think it’s time you call me Loretta, don’t you?”
“If that’s what you’d like.”
She nodded. “That’s what I’d like.” She moved aside then and allowed him to enter. “Now what can I do for you?”
Nash glanced back to see Gus taking off toward the cowboys, who began petting him. Knowing Gus would be fine, Nash entered the house. “I’d like to speak with your husband if that’s all right.”
Loretta paused to study Nash, her warm eyes regarding him intently. “Do I need to worry?”
“No, ma’am,” Nash said gently. “You’ve got nothing to worry about from me.”
She gave him another long look then nodded firmly. “All right.” She shut the door then waved him forward. “Clint’s in his office.”
Nash removed his boots, again finding the home to be warm and rustic and extravagant. Everything in this space suited Clint, except the warm part. That was all Loretta. And Nash fully believed it was Megan’s mother that insured Megan never saw any of Clint’s coldness. When business was done, office doors were closed.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Loretta asked, leading Nash down the hallway.
“No, thank you, ma’am.” Nash didn’t intend to stay long.
She stopped at the closed office door, only firming up Nash’s assumption, then knocked. Clint called from the other side, “Come in.”
The moment Loretta opened the door, Nash restrained his snort. Clint sat behind his grand wooden desk surrounded by his kills from trophy hunting, like a king. Harrison was speaking on the phone, staring out the window, but his eyes soon narrowed on Nash. “I need to go. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
Loretta crossed her arms and frowned. “Nash said I have nothing to worry about. What do you say?”
Clint grunted and gestured her out with a flick of his chin.
Loretta smiled at Nash. “I suppose that’s the best I’ll get.” She placed her hand on his forearm. “Go on and have a seat. I’ll make us some coffee, in case you change your mind.”
Nash didn’t want coffee. He intended to say what he needed to say and get out. But Loretta was sweet and kind. Nash smiled and nodded at her. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She gave Clint another hard look before she let herself out and shut the door behind her.
Thick silence spread out in the room, making the air feel heavy and charged with challenging testosterone. Anytime before this, Nash would’ve already lashed out, all in his need to prove he was better than the man sitting behind the desk.
Things had changed.
“You know,” Nash began, staring at Clint intently, “for as long as I could remember, I’ve hated you.”
“The feeling is mutual, kid,” Clint muttered.
Nash let that comment roll right off his back, seeing Clint with new eyes. “Megan had me believing for a little while that I was being unjust to hate you. That the feud between our families was created by you and my father and had no merit.”
Clint leaned back in his expensive leather chair and folded his arms. “Your point?”
“She’s got it all wrong,” Nash said firmly. “You’re a sonuvabitch. Plain and simple.” Clint’s eyes darkened, as Nash knew his own eyes did whenever someone dared speak anything but high praise for his family. “And you know why I know that?”
“I don’t particularly care.” Clint snorted.
“Oh, I think you might care about this,” Nash mused, moving closer to the bastard who had tried so damn hard to ruin the Blackshaw name. He stepped forward behind the client chair and gripped the smooth wood. “Yesterday, the police arrested Butch.”
Clint’s expression remained emotionless except for the slight tightening around the corners of his eyes. “Which matters to me because. . . . ?”
Nash strode around the chair, inhaling the natural wood aroma in the space. He pressed his hands against the desk, bringing his eyes level to Clint’s. “No more games, Harrison. It all ends now.”
A dark smile crossed Clint’s face before he rose from his seat, moving to stare out the window. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, boy.”
Sure, Nash didn’t have any proof of Clint’s involvement, but he didn’t need any. One look into Clint’s cold, dead eyes, and Nash knew. “I know you’re paying for Butch’s wife’s cancer treatments and that’s the reason he set out to sabotage the ranch,” Nash said, tossing his theory out there. “Whether you knew what Butch’s plans were with the fire and the drugging of the guests or Butch acted drastically in fear you’d stop helping his wife is up for debate, but he wouldn’t have done those things if you hadn’t wanted the ranch shut down.”
Clint’s expression turned hard, revealing nothing. “Get out—”
Nash knew he had him pegged. He could feel Clint’s guilt seeping into his bones. “The feud between our families stops right here, right now.” And that was what all this boiled down to. Nash refused to mirror the mistakes Harrison had made. Yeah, sure, Clint loved his wife and Megan, and obviously he’d been good to them, but his hunger to prove something, to be the best, to come out on top, had burned wicked until he’d enabled a man to do unforgivable things.
Nash wouldn’t be that man.
After a long deep breath, he added, “Neither Megan or Loretta deserve to be dragged through this shit any longer.” It was an odd thing. Nash would’ve dreamed of this moment before. He had Clint by the balls. He could’ve twisted this in any way he wanted to benefit his family. “But here’s the thing, Harrison: I don’t give two shits about you. I love Megan.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling far more relaxed than he ever had before in this man’s presence. That was what happened when you were no longer on edge, coiled, and ready to snap. “She’s all that matters here. From here on out, I’m choosing to listen to what she’s been trying desperately to tell us. She doesn’t want to choose between us, and I’m not going to make her.” Which was exactly what he’d be making Megan do if he told Darryl about his suspicions or hired an investigator himself to possibly find the evidence on Clint he needed.
Clint’s glare lessened.
Truth was, while Nash knew Clint was a sonuvabitch, he believed Clint didn’t have it in him to order Butch to give a vomit-inducing drug to children. The missing cows were more Clint’s style. And Clint had always been friendly to Jenny. The feud had been between the husbands. Nash agreed with his mother and Chase that Clint wouldn’t have ordered her barn set on fire, which could have burned down his mother’s house. Nash now suspected that Butch had acted desperately, possibly because he thought if he didn’t, the payment for his wife’s treatments would stop.
Nash was done with this man in front of him, and he got to the real point of why he had come. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Harrison. Since this wouldn’t have happened without your pursuing Blackshaw land, you’re going to put your money to good use. You’re going to pay the medical bills of all the guests who were sent to the hospital. For all the guests who had a bad week because of your shit, you’re going to pay for them to come back for another week at your expense, including any lost wages they suffer away from their jobs. You’re going to pay to rebuild my mother’s barn and the side of her house. Plus, because you nearly killed me and the kittens I went into the barn to save, you’ll make a sustainable yearly donation to the River Rock Animal Rescue in Megan’s name.”
Clint returned to his seat behind his desk and snorted. “And why would I agree to any of that?”
Nash leaned in and put it all on the line. “For Megan.”
Clint’s jaw clenched once, then he softened in a way that Nash had never seen in his presence. “For her?”
Nash wasn’t sure if Clint was admitting guilt by agreeing to his demands. Or if Clint knew all this had gone too far and felt regret over that. Or if he simply agreed not to put Megan and Loretta through an investigation. It didn’t matter anyway. “No more animosity between the families,” Nash said. “It’s done. I’ll get you the information you need on the guests, and this will be done. Over.” He paused. Then, “We’ll make this right for Megan.”
Clint hesitated, his love for his daughter shining in his eyes. “Only for her and my grandbaby.”
Nash knew as he turned away, letting Clint have the last word, and headed out of the office that the condition of this peace only lasted as long as Megan loved Nash. And Nash was perfectly fine with that.
He planned for their love to last forever.
* * *
The second time Megan had woken up that day had been to an empty bed. Not nearly as perfect as she’d woken up the first time with Nash touching her belly. Yeah, she was becoming a real sucker for that, and her heart melted every time his hand came to her stomach. After she ate breakfast and showered, she fed the kittens wet food and left a bowl of dry food for Diva.
Megan was out the door before she knew it, and hit the ground running. She stopped at the River Rock’s Pawn Shop for the appointment she’d made yesterday while at work. Then she had another appointment with the bank, and with Jannie to sign a whole slew of documents.
By the time she arrived at Kinky Spurs for her shift, her emotions felt run through a cheese grater. Which was maybe why when she found Emma and Harper sitting at the bar waiting for her, her throat squeezed tight. At one time, they all worked here together. God, that felt like a lifetime ago. Life had changed so much.
The emotion began to spill out, and there wasn’t a damn thing Megan could do to stop it. She desperately sucked in air, trying to fight the tears threatening to release, hoping to hell the girls didn’t notice her.
They did, of course.
“Oh, my God, Megan, are you okay?” Emma was off her stool, rushing toward Megan and throwing her arms around her.
Always the sweet one, that was Emma. Which also wasn’t helping the overflowing emotion. Especially when Harper leapt in for a hug too.
Megan dropped her cheek onto Emma’s shoulder. “This baby is doing weird things to me.”
“Emotional things aren’t always bad things,” said Emma, leaning away. “What happened?”
“Nothing to warrant the waterworks,” Megan said, moving to the bar. “I was thinking about how things used to be when you two worked here and how much has changed.” She paused, feeling that same strangling sensation rise up in her throat. She cleared her throat to wash it away, and asked Harper, “I take it you also heard what happened with Nash and my dad and that’s why you’re here?”
Harper smiled softly. “Just doing what good friends do and checking in.”
Oh, no.
More tears flooded Megan’s face. She laughed, slightly unnerved by the number of tears she’d shed lately. “I don’t even know who I am. This baby is making me so mushy. Thank you for being such good friends.”
Emma gave Megan another quick squeeze. “Well, you’re a good friend back, so we’re all a lucky bunch.” She returned to the stool she’d been sitting on, her purse resting atop the bar.
Megan took the chair at the table closest to them. A sudden bout of heartburn shot up her throat, causing her to clear it again. She reached into her purse and popped a couple of antacids into her mouth.
“That’s new,” Harper pointed out.
Megan nodded. “Just this morning. I really hope it doesn’t last. It feels like my throat’s on fire.” She exhaled deeply then shook her arms out, forcing the unexpected emotion away. “So, I guess you want to know what happened, right?”
Harper nodded.
So did Emma, leaning forward with interest. “I only got bits and pieces of everything from Shep.”
Megan relaxed back in the chair and crossed her legs. She gave Bethany a wave as she stocked the bar, then looked back at the girls. “Before we get into all of the family stuff, the sellers accepted my offer on the house. Now I’m waiting on all the financing stuff.”
“That’s amazing news,” Harper said.
Emma nodded. “So super-exciting.”
Obviously understanding that the conversation was private, Bethany headed into the backroom. Harper waited for her to vanish through the door, then her expression turned curious. “Did your dad help you out with the down payment, then?”
Megan went to smile and speak, but her voice came out in a choked sob. “I’m sorry,” she eventually managed. She drew in another long breath then admitted the hardest truth. “I sold my grandmother’s ring to the pawn shop this morning to get enough for the down payment.” She glanced down at her bare hand feeling naked. Exposed. In the worst way possible. “It’s the right thing to do, I know that, but selling the ring . . .” She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “The ring was really special to me. But everything’s just crazy with Nash and my dad, and I need to have this safe space the baby and I can live in.”
Harper gave a soft nod. “You’re doing what a good mom does.”
Emma nodded too, albeit with the saddest eyes Megan had ever seen. “I’m sorry that this is all happening to you. But I feel like this is a good step in the right direction.”
“Yup,” Megan agreed, even though nothing really felt right. “We tried to make it work, right? I can’t fault either Nash or my dad for that, but it’s not going to happen. They cannot get along, no matter what I do.”
Harper frowned.
Emma looked full of pity. She finally inhaled sharply and gave a bright smile. “It’ll be okay. I just know it. Things always work out for good people, and you are good people, Megan.”
“Always the optimist.” Megan forced a smile.
Emma gave a small shrug. “Someone’s gotta be, and I feel it in my bones; this is all going to work out just fine. Besides, you’ve got an awesome house now that you love. You’ve got this amazing bar that everyone in town enjoys. You’ve got Nash, who has always loved you like crazy. A family who adores you. And you’ve got this sweet little baby on the way.”
Megan nodded, placing her hands on her ever-growing belly. “Yes, I do.” That was what occurred to her when Nash showed up at the farm, ready to decapitate her father. For as long as she could remember, she’d endured the feud. Hated it with a passion. But endured it. She didn’t need to anymore, she realized.
All she had to do was make the choice to stay out of it. And now she had. On her terms. And that felt good.
“Fudge nuggets.”
Harper burst out laughing.
Emma snickered, a hand over her face.
Megan turned toward the familiar voice.
Maisie Carter, the youngest Carter sister, who owned the local craft brewery, Three Chicks Brewery, entered the bar. From the way Megan knew the story, their late grandfather had crafted their local famous brew in his basement. Maisie, along with her two older sisters, Clara and Amelia, opened the brewery in his honor. With a little tweaking, they had developed Foxy Diva. Megan had gone to school with the oldest Carter sister, Clara.
“Son of a monkey!” Maisie gasped, blowing the dark hair away from her bright blue eyes. She kicked the front door shut behind her with her Converse.
Megan rose to help Maisie, who was carrying the boxes of booze.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Maisie dropped the boxes on the table. “You’ve got a baby in the oven.”
Ah, so everyone in town did know. Megan glanced back at Harper and Emma. They smiled and hopped off the stools to help Maisie get the boxes behind the bar.
Twenty-four-year-old Maisie had a definite cool vibe. Her hair was usually in side braids. Megan had never seen her out of her Converse, and she wore overalls or capris a lot. “My sisters keep thinking I have muscles that I don’t.” She smiled at Emma and Harper. “Thanks for the help.”
“Sure,” Harper said, returning to her stool.
Megan moved around the bar to begin restocking the shelves in the fridges. Now getting a better look, Maisie’s overalls had paint splattered on them. “You guys renovating at the brewery?”
“Nope.” She glanced down, shoved her hands in her overalls, and sighed. “I’m doing arts and crafts.”
Megan’s mouth twitched. “Arts and crafts?”
“Yeah, Amelia says I need a hobby.” Maisie shrugged. “But, uh, don’t tell Clara I’m painting during work hours. She’ll . . .” Maisie cringed. “I’ll hear a year-long lecture.”
“My lips are sealed,” Megan confirmed.
“Cool. Thanks.” Maisie moved to the door and opened it, smiling back at Megan. “Looking good, Megan.” She gave a wave and was out the door a second later.
“That girl is like a butterfly floating in the wind,” said Harper after a beat.
Megan agreed with a nod. “She is pretty chill, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Emma said, “can I be that chill?”
Megan laughed, feeling better now than before. Maybe just talking about selling the ring made her feel not so guilty for letting go of something that was so close to her heart. Regardless of the fact that she knew it was the right decision, it still sucked.
“So,” Harper said gently, curious eyes regarding Megan intently. “We don’t need to worry about you, right?”
Megan laughed softly. Not being one for grand emotional displays, she understood their concern. She glanced at her hand again and ran her fingers over her bare finger. “Selling the ring was harder than I expected, but I’m okay, really. I know Grams would be thrilled that I bought a house I love with the money. It was just . . .” her throat tightened, “ . . . special, you know.”
Emma gave those sad eyes again. “Yeah, I know.” She was off her stool and her arms were around Megan again, as were Harper’s.
Megan smiled and leaned into the hug. She had great friends. A hot cowboy who loved her. A sweet baby on the way. And a new house. All she was missing was the white picket fence.