Page 47 of Wrangling Nash

Rig’s words echoed in my mind in a constant loop. I didn’t want to hurt Nash the way my mother had Rig, and though I knew leaving now would be painful, perhaps it could spare us from an even greater pain than if I chose to stay seven months longer. The disappointment of losing my childhood dream to start the co-op paled in comparison to the heartbreak of losing Nash.

Five minutes down the road, tears blurred my vision. Approaching the first mountain and mesquite pass, I slowed to a crawl as a massive herd of cattle leisurely crossed the road. The endless line of cattle stretched as far as I could see in either direction. Nightfall seemed imminent by the time they might clear out and I began to feel nervous about the long drive I still had ahead of me.

I sighed, putting the car in park as I watched each content cow pass by my windshield as I sat alone with my thoughts.

What am I doing?

I'd never anticipated love being the reason my 12-month stint in Lonestar Junction was cut short.

How had I allowed myself to fall for Nash?

The sun hung low on the horizon as dust swirled around my car from the cattle’s hooves. Suddenly, to my right, I saw a figure approach, riding towards me on a horse. He had a pair of jeans and a brown cowboy hat on, shielding his face, but even without seeing him, I knew. His shoulders were broad, and his stature was tall and the way he commanded the horse could only be one person - Nash.

Nash rode straight toward me, coming to a stop in front of my car. His penetrating gaze made me squirm. Anger, hurt, frustration reflected in his eyes.

Initially, I thought it was better not to say goodbye, but now, as I looked into his eyes, I realized it had been a mistake. He had every right to hate me for leaving.

Nash rode ahead for a bit as I watched him rope in one of the lead steers, guiding them back toward the ranch. Clay approached from the side, assisting to wrangle the cattle as they redirected them. It took only a few minutes to corral the cattle, however the time felt like hours as my heart raced, uncertain of what Nash would say when we finally had a chance to talk.

As I watched the herd disperse, Nash rode up next to my car, dismounted from his horse and swiftly opened my car door before I could utter a word. He yanked me out of the car and pulled me against his chest, holding me tightly.

“Nash...I'm sorry.” I sighed when he finally pulled me back, two fingers hooked under my chin to tilt my face upward.

“Why are you running, Jovie?”

Tears brimmed in my eyes.

“Somehow, we made things too complicated.”

He watched me closely as my eyes shifted downward, unable to hold his penetrating gaze.

“When hearts are involved, things are bound to get complicated, Jovie.”

I sighed, “but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was supposed to be casual.”

“You know that was never possible for us. We were in too deep from the start,” he spoke, his words squeezed in my chest as it heaved up and down.

“I’m in love with you, Jovie. And I don’t want you to leave. Not now, or ever.” Nash stated as he dipped his nose to my neck, tracing my pulse line and ending by my ear where he planted a gentle kiss. My heart raced at his tenderness as I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“I won’t ask you to stay, but the difference between me and Patrick is I’m not waiting for you here, and I’m not coming to visit you once a month and do long distance.”

My heart crashed at his words that had gone from sweet to sour as I tried to pull back, but Nash tightened his grip around me instead.

“What I’m saying is, if you want to leave, I’m coming with you.” he spoke.

I shifted my gaze to look into his eyes. “But what about your dad’s ranch?”

Nash shrugged, “I don’t need it. I never did. Home is wherever you are.”

I sighed, tears welling in my eyes, “you’d leave everything behind to move back to Houston, a place you don’t like?”

“It was never the city, Jovie, and it was never about my ex. I realized now, it was a reminder that I felt like I wasn’t here for my family when my mom died. But nothing I’d done could have prevented her passing and though I could have been more supportive physically, I needed to figure things out on my own.”

“I don’t love Houston,” I whispered.

Nash pulled me back to look in my eyes.

“Who’s to say we can’t have it all, then?” he asked.

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