Page 7 of Cowboy Friend Zone for Christmas

Four months later

Nash strode through the main horse barn at Canyon Creek Ranch. It was the quickest route to the adjacent indoor riding ring where Noelle spent most of her time. He picked up his pace at the thought of the incredible news he had to share with her, wanting her to be the first to hear it. He hadn’t even told his brothers yet.

His boots clomped noisily across the plank hallway. The long white steel building housed several dozen horse stalls, plus the ranch’s administrative offices. The offices jutted from the front of the building in a section paved with contrasting beige sandstone. His office as ranch manager was the most spacious one, with a wall of windows that overlooked the front parking lot. The two-story rambling farmhouse where he and his brothers lived lay just beyond it.

As he traversed the building to the riding ring in the back, he gripped the white envelope, knowing what it contained could amount to a real game changer. Though Noelle was convinced he’d be back on the competitive circuit soon, he wasn’t holding his breath. Yeah, he was back in the saddle. She’d been right about that part, at least. He hadn’t made it through his first week at home without caving into the temptation to climb back on a horse. Since he was still healing at the time, all he’d done was sit there, brooding over how different his future looked than the one he’d previously imagined for himself. Having limited mobility in one arm really limited one’s options.

It had taken more than six weeks for the wounded stump to heal. Only after he’d been fitted with a permanent prosthesis did his quality of life take a turn for the better. Thanks to his inheritance from his parents, plus a successful bronc riding career leading up to his accident, he was able to afford the most cutting-edge technology available in prosthetics. His new bionic arm had set him back over a hundred grand, but it was quickly proving to be worth every penny.

He nodded at a pair of grooms mucking out horse stalls.

They nodded back. “Hey, boss,” one of them called. As usual, their gazes dropped to his prosthetic limb as he walked past them.

He deliberately lifted it to tip his hat at them. Though he had on a long-sleeve shirt and gloves, the gesture earned him two wide grins.

The tendency of his staff to stare at his arm had taken some getting used to. They didn’t mean to be rude. They were simply curious.

He didn’t blame them. He was still getting used to the new arm himself. At first, his two brothers had driven him crazy, rushing to open doors and relieve him of anything he might be carrying. It had taken only one vent session with Noelle to change that. The very next day, his brothers had backed off and allowed him to start carrying his own weight around the ranch again.

Though she’d pretended innocence when he’d asked her about it, he suspected she had a hand in his brothers’ abrupt change in behavior. He was grateful to her on so many levels that it bordered on ridiculous these days. After the friendship pact they’d agreed to, she’d very quickly advanced from his friend and accountability partner to his deepest confidante and sounding board. Though they weren’t dating, people treated them like they were, and he hadn’t bothered to set them straight. He hoped she didn’t mind. For reasons he didn’t want to delve too deeply into, it was the one and only topic he hadn’t asked for her input on.

Yet.

They were only four months into their twelve-month dating diet, and she’d made it pretty clear she wasn’t looking to end it prematurely. In the meantime, being her go-to guy wasn’t exactly a shabby arrangement. Anytime she was sad, lonely, or just needed to talk, she came to him. He did his fair share of venting to her in return, mostly about the challenges of being an amputee. So far, he was the only one who’d required the services of a plus one. She’d tossed on a dress and accompanied him all three times without question. And, boy, did she clean up well!

Nash made it to the indoor riding ring, enjoying the scent of the fresh layer of sawdust carpeting the room. Noelle had one of his newest horses in the ring with her. Not wanting to distract her while she was working, he didn’t say anything as he moved forward to prop a boot on the lowest rung of the metal fence separating them.

It was nice seeing his newest horse trainer finally off her crutches. She’d suffered a few setbacks, spraining her ankle after the hard cast had come off. Her doctor had immediately put her in a soft cast and ordered her to remain on crutches for a few extra days. Then she’d fallen and bruised her knee cap so badly that the doc had added even more days on crutches. Though Nash would never say it to her face, Noelle Ward was a hopeless klutz. For this reason, he kept as close of an eye on her as possible.

Fortunately, she had a fairly docile horse in the ring with her this morning, a young filly named Cookie. The black-spotted creature was as frisky as a kitten, but biddable. Noelle had spent the last couple of days working on rope pressure exercises.

“You silly girl,” she chided affectionately when the filly tried to nibble her hand. “How about we run off some more energy before getting down to work this morning?” She removed the lead rope and patted the horse’s flank to get her moving.

As the filly cantered in a circle, happily kicking up sawdust, a new sound met Nash’s ears — the muted patter of rain on the red metal roof over their heads. He glanced up, thrilled to hear it. The month of April had kicked off a dry season. The pond levels were getting low, and the irrigators in the hay and alfalfa fields were getting a bigger workout than he preferred. A few inches of moisture would be mighty welcome about now.

Noelle waited until Cookie whooshed past Nash a second time before sauntering in his direction.

Though he kept his gaze on her animated features, he couldn’t help noticing the lithe movements of her willowy frame. She looked good in her jeans and tall, black riding boots. Real good. She had a fitted pale blue jacket zipped over a white tank top, accenting a healthy set of curves. Not too skinny and not too far in the other direction, either. She wasn’t afraid to eat a burger or get her fingers messy with hot wings while chowing down with the rest of the ranch hands. On the other hand, she refused to drink anything other than water —lemon water, lime water, cucumber water, you name it. She always had something fresh and flavorful floating on the top of her water.

Her reddish-blonde hair was pulled back into two braids that always made his fingers itch to give them a tug. No makeup covered the sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks. She possessed a natural beauty that didn’t come out of a bottle.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She pretended to dust off her shoulders as she approached him. “Is there a fly on my jacket or something?”

“Nope.” He leaned his forearms on the fence, still watching her. “Just happen to like the way you look in a Stetson.”

“I do wear it well,” she teased, reaching up to cock the brim at a sassier angle for his benefit. “So do you, cowboy.” She affectionately reached up to adjust his hat next.

Or so he assumed.

Instead, she yanked his hat sideways. Then she danced out of reach.

“You little—” Without thinking, he vaulted over the fence and lunged after her.

With a squeal, she stutter-stepped back and nearly lost her balance.

He took advantage of her momentary loss in equilibrium to toss her over one of his shoulders and swing her around and around until he started to grow dizzy.

She convulsed into giggles. “Put me down,” she gasped, pounding his shoulder blades with her fists. Not too hard, just enough to get her point across.

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