Page 34 of Wrangling Nash

“I know you miss mom, Clay.”

“No, you don’t get it. I do miss Mom. But that’s not what I’m upset about. What I’m upset about is the fact that you’re going to mess things up with Jovie, and she’s going to run off to the city to escape you because you can’t handle your emotions and being in a relationship with a woman ever since Brooke messed you up.”

“That’s not fair. Jovie was always leaving after the twelve months her grandfather wrote into the will were up. We knew she wasn’t going to stay forever, Clay.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” he exclaimed, his voice getting louder.

Clay rarely, if ever, got upset, especially not with me. It was strange seeing him raise his voice, and I could tell whatever it was he was feeling, was really bothering him.

“What is it then, Clay?” I asked in a calm voice, hoping to deescalate his emotions.

He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m not a kid anymore. I can already see what’s going to happen. I've been in a relationship before. You’re going to break her heart. I can see the way she looks at you, the way you look at her. Y’all are telling yourselves this is a benefits-only thing, but I know it’s not. You’re going to somehow mess it up, and she’s going to leave early, probably exactly how Dad orchestrated it so he can get Clarence Ashwood’s ranch.”

Clay stood up, pushing his chair back, and went to leave before pausing in the doorway.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re left with your dick in your hand, a broken heart and no Jovie in Lonestar Junction.”

Chapter 29: Nash

One month later…

It was the start of Jovie’s third month on the ranch, and I could tell she was feeling more comfortable with the routine. This was the last month my dad had agreed to loan us boys out, and Jovie had been working extra hard and late hours, putting in over 12-hour shifts tending to animals and going through her grandfather's binders. But when she finished, without fail, she’d wind up crawling into bed late at night to lie next to me and I’d be there, waiting for her – to ease her aches and pains and adore her body.

It was now October, and the weather in Texas was getting cooler, although “cooler” for Texas in October still meant temperatures well in the 80s. It was Wylie’s week to show her the ropes, so I woke up as usual, kissed her on the forehead, filled my mug with coffee, and reassured her that I’d see her tonight.

However, today was different. Four hours into bailing hay in the fields, my phone lit up with a text from Jovie, letting me know that she might not be much fun tonight because she rolled her ankle. She said she was fine, but I demanded a photo. The picture that came in showed a very swollen, purple ankle. That pissed me off as I took off for the ranch in my truck.

“Oh, I bet I know why you're here.” Wylie stated with an eye roll as he cracked open a can of beer and flopped onto the couch next to where Jovie was sitting, icing her ankle.

“How is it that during my weeks with Jovie, I keep her out of harm’s way, and she doesn’t get injured? Yet, when you and Clay are working with her, she always ends up on this damn couch with her feet in the air and an ice pack?”

Wylie rolled his eyes, further fueling my anger.

“I’m fine, Nash. It’s just a swollen ankle. I used to roll my ankles a lot when I was little. I played volleyball and was always landing wrong on them. I know a day or two of icing, and I’ll be back to normal.”

I growled but dropped it for Jovie’s sake, though I was still pissed at my brothers for being so careless with her.

“She’s not a damn glass vase, bro. She’s not going to break.”

“I’m fine, seriously, Nash. It’s okay,” Jovie said with a reassuring smile as she patted the spot next to her.

Instead of finishing the hay bailing like I needed to, I texted Clay to call in a favor, and he said he’d cover for me. I spent the rest of the evening sitting next to Jovie on the couch, seething with anger each time I glanced down at her ankle. Eventually, she dozed off, and I carried her back to her room to find Wylie still in the living room, drinking another beer and watching a funny sitcom.

Without even looking at me, he decided to piss me off even more. “Clay wasn’t wrong about you,” he said, chuckling as I headed to the fridge to reheat some of the pasta Gloria had made for dinner.

“What the hell are you talking about now, Wylie?” I asked.

“Clay said you got it bad for Jovie. I said, ‘No way. Nash never gets it bad for girls.’ Even the women you dated after Brooke, sometimes you’d keep them around for a few months and then ditch them, but no, it’s totally different with Jovie. You actually care about her. Hell, I think you might be in love.”

“I do care about her. Just like I’ve cared about every woman in my life.”

Wylie chuckled, stood up, and tossed the empty can in the trash.

“No, you haven’t, Nash. Not like this. And the sooner you realize it and figure out what you’re going to do with that information, the sooner we can all move forward with our lives.”

Chapter 30: Jovie

Friday evening arrived, and Wylie and I were finishing up cleaning the chicken coops and checking on the new baby calves.

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