Page 1 of Cowboy Friend Zone for Christmas

CHAPTER 1: FRIENDSHIP PACT

The door to Nash Carson’s hospital room was ajar. Noelle’s crutches made muted thumps on the white tile floor as she hitched her way closer at a snail’s pace. Walking with crutches was a chore, especially for a klutz like her. She paused in the hallway outside his room to catch her breath.

Carefully averting her head, she called, “Are you awake, Nash?” She kept her voice down, not wanting to disturb him if he’d dozed off. A near-fatal accident during a snowstorm six days earlier had cost the world champion bronc rider his right arm an inch or so above the elbow. The nurses had been keeping him on a steady diet of painkillers all week to make the recovery phase of the amputation more bearable.

His disgusted snort met her ears, assuring her that he was very much awake. “I’m a rancher, Noelle. We don’t sleep in.”

The growl in his voice told her he was in an even crabbier mood than when she’d left him the evening before.

She pushed the door wider and found him standing by the window on the far side of the room. Not in bed resting, as she’d hoped. His back was to her.

Despite being born with a gift for gab, she was at a loss for words as she studied the slump to his broad shoulders. She couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind right now. She didn’t understand what it felt like to lose a limb, and she hoped she never would. Being stuck on crutches with a broken leg for the past few weeks was bad enough. It was entirely her fault, of course. She’d let her guard down around a half-wild horse she’d been training. She was fortunate to have gotten off with a simple fracture.

Nash abruptly swung around in her direction. “If you’ve come to ride my case again about getting back on a bronc, you’re out of luck. I’ve accepted the fact that I’m retired. I’m at peace with it.”

He was lying. She could tell by the pale cast to his angular features and the smudges beneath his eyes that he wasn’t at peace with squat at the moment.

His resentful tirade, however, gave her the courage to bring up something she’d been tossing around inside her head for a couple of days. Something that might actually stand a chance of cheering him up.

“Guilty.” She almost smiled at the fact that his slightly bowed legs were in jeans and boots this morning. He’d finally followed through on his threat to ditch his hospital gown. “I did come to ride your case about something. Not about that, though.” She considered it a healthy sign that he was going through the motions of getting back to his normal daily routine. It looked like he’d run into a few challenges along the way. His blond hair was damp from his shower —more than damp. It was still dripping. His plaid shirt was unbuttoned over an untucked white t-shirt. No belt. The right side of his shirt was simply draped around his shoulder. The shirtsleeve hung loose and empty at his side. Being down to one hand was going to take some getting used to.

His blond eyebrows stretched upward as he waited for her to continue. “I’m listening.” He sounded cautiously amused, a little more like the upbeat cowboy she’d first met a few months ago.

Leaning forward on her crutches, she moved into the room. “I think we should form a friendship pact before we head to Dallas.”

Nash and his two younger brothers would be returning to their home, Canyon Creek Ranch, in a few days. They’d invited Noelle to accompany them. Upon her arrival, she’d join their staff as their newest horse trainer.

After I get rid of this thing.

She glanced ruefully down at the white plaster cast that was still wrapped around her leg. It used to be white, but the wind in Phoenix was fast turning it to a dull shade of dust.

“You want to do what?” A thread of amusement curled through the voice of the broad-shouldered bronc rider.

“A friendship pact,” she repeated loftily, moving across the room to stand directly in front of him. “Since we’re both nursing broken hearts, I think we should take steps to protect each other from the pitfalls of rebound relationships.”

“Steps, huh?” His upper lip curled in speculation. “Sounds like you swallowed a psychology book.”

“It was an online article, actually.” She chose not to share the fact that the article had been posted to a sensational blog called Celebrity Dating Tips. “It suggested we find an accountability partner to hold us to a few ground rules.”

Nash gave a bark of laughter. “This I’ve gotta hear.” He motioned for her to take a seat on his neatly made-up hospital bed. From the looks of it, he hadn’t been in it since the nurse changed the sheets for him this morning.

“I don’t mind using the chair.” She backed toward the vinyl seat that was scooted up next to his bed.

“Or you could follow doctor’s orders and prop your leg up for a while.” He pointed at the bed with his uninjured arm and cocked his head challengingly at her.

She made a face at him and lowered herself carefully to the mattress. “We haven’t even hashed out the details of our friendship pact yet,” she grumbled, “and you’re already taking this accountability partner stuff as serious as a heart attack.”

She was grateful to take a load off, though. Leaning on crutches was one of the most uncomfortable things she’d ever experienced. Despite the rubber cushions on the tops of them, her armpits felt bruised all the way to the bone. She whooshed out a breath of gratitude and reclined back against the mound of pillows.

Unlike Nash, she wasn’t able to get back into jeans yet. They wouldn’t fit over her thick plaster cast. Instead, she had on a snug white hoodie over a pair of baggy navy running pants. Not that she planned on running anywhere anytime soon.

He leaned back against the window sill, watching her with interest. “Okay, let’s hear those ground rules. I’m gonna need full disclosure before I agree to anything.”

She hid a smirk of triumph. Her plan of distracting him from his pain and grief was working better than she’d expected. “Rule number one...” She rested her crutches against the side of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “If you need a plus one at a get-together, invite me. If I’m the one who needs a plus one, I’ll invite you.”

He cocked his head in consideration. “I can do that. Next rule.”

“If you start feeling bored or lonely, call me. Or text. I’ll do the same if I fall into the mulligrubs.” She was actually more worried about his melancholy stemming from his injury, but it was easier to offer comfort in the form of dating advice. More subtle, she hoped.

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