Page 16 of Last Chance for Her Rancher Boss

Because Meg couldn’t sit still for more than ten minutes without going insane, she gave both Gadget and Nickel a once-over justfor something to do. She had to admitagain, mostly to herself, that she was immensely impressed with the care Nash had taken with his animals. Without doing literal blood work, as far as she could tell, the horses were in perfect health. The same could be said for all the cattle that she’d been looking over since she’d arrived. So often on these evaluations, the assessors came back with, at best, ranchers trying their hardest to keep up and falling a little short. At worst there were horror stories of straight-up neglect, with animal welfare getting called in before the land was even bought out. But these horses wereperfect. Their stalls were immaculate, they were bright-eyed and curious, and Meg had noticed several bags of vitamins and supplements while snooping around.

So maybe,maybe, Nash wasn’t being a closed-off, acidic blockhead just for the hell of it. Maybe the guy was justtired. And if he was that exhausted because his animals were this well taken care of, then Meg couldn’t find it in herself to keep hating him. Shewantedto keep hating him because that would be way easier. Hatred and anger weren’t pleasant emotions, but they were easy. Being forgiving and being kind, those feelings took effort. She could still think he was an idiot, sure, but it looked like hate was out the window for now.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he sat on a bale, fiddling with a strand of hay, oblivious.

Eventually, Tilly’s breathing grew quicker and shallower. There was more snorting and huffing of discomfort with every passing minute. As the birth got closer, she made even more noise. A couple of times Nash went to enter the stall, but Meg shook her head at him. He would frown and look even more concerned about his horse, but he would obey Meg’s silent command and sit back down.

Slowly, Meg stood up and sidled into a position where she could watch what was happening without Tilly taking notice of her. Her policy was to only interfere if something was going wrong. So far, being all up in Tilly’s business would only stress the mare out. She was doing just fine on her own.

Then Nash was beside Meg like he’d appeared out of thin air. For such a big guy, he could apparently move in perfect silence. He stood beside her, taking Meg’s lead and staying silent and still. They hadn’t stood this close together since she’d arrived. Nash was close enough that Meg could feel the warmth from his arm, so close to hers but not touching. She’d been so careful to avoid him that now being this close was overwhelming. It shocked her that he still smelled the same, a smell that had always been distinctlyNash. So many memories came rushing back to her, but this time they were all the good ones. She thought about all of the hours they had spent together in that treehouse until the days towards the end of high school when they’d grown too big but still squeezed inside. With a sudden rush of realization, Meg didn’t want to ignore him anymore. She didn’t want that icy feeling to come back to her chest whenever she thought about him. In fact she’d very much like to reach out and touch his arm, just to know what the soft flannel of his shirt felt like under her fingertips. Just to properly feel the warmth of him.

Then it all happened in a gush of fluid like a dam breaking, and Meg was thrown back into reality. Tilly whinnied, jumping to her feet with a surprising amount of agility, snorting and huffing once again, head low to the ground. At her feet was a foal, still folded up in a ball, looking around like it was surprised to be there. It was hard to tell what color it was, considering it was still soaking wet, but it looked to be gray, just like its mother. Its tangle of spindly legs immediately tried to unfurl themselves,but its whole body was so off balance just sitting that it wobbled back and forth like a spinning top.

Meg felt herself grinning ear to ear. She looked up and Nash was smiling just as wide. It was probably that she was just overtired, had a long week, and was running on empty, but the sight of it took her breath away. There he was, the old Nash shining through, bright and exuberant. Seeing that smile threw Meg back in time, and she had to fight hard to clamber back to the present.

Nash, for the millionth time, made to step forward as if to enter the stall.

Before she could stop herself, Meg grabbed his arm, her fingers gripping softly.

“Wait,” she said, her voice still soft so as not to startle Tilly or the foal. “Let them bond. She’s doing her job perfectly. You don’t want to distract her from that.”

Nash obeyed, just as he had every time before, stepping back beside Meg. She dropped her hand from his arm like it had been burned and decided to promptly forget that she’d ever touched him.

She focused her entire being on watching Tilly and the foal. She’d been right that Tilly was doing her job perfectly. She was sniffing and licking at her baby, cleaning it up, whickering softly to it. The foal let out a high-pitched whinny, and the geldings started getting restless in their own stalls, wanting to see what was going on. Tilly, of course, just snorted her disdain at them.

Meg and Nash watched, completely transfixed, for over an hour as the foal found its feet. After many wobbly and unsuccessful attempts, it was able to stand, legs spread wide and then beganto nurse from Tilly with gusto. Meg was also finally able to tell that the foal was a female.

“She’s going to have just as bad an attitude as her mother,” Nash drawled when Meg told him it was a filly. “I can already tell.”

The thought didn’t seem to upset him all that much though. There was still a smile hovering around his mouth, softening his whole face.

“Have you got a name for her?” Meg asked, determined not to think about the possible softness of Nash Callahan’s mouth. God, a few sleep-deprived hours in a stable with the guy, and suddenly she was thinking about hismouth.Maybe she needed to get her head checked because this wasn’t sane behavior.

“Opal,” he said without missing a beat.

Meg raised an amused eyebrow. “Did you have that locked and loaded, ready to go?”

Nash shrugged. “Opal and Tilly, it fits nice.”

“Yeah, it does.”

As Opal started wobbling around on tiny hooves, the sun started to peek over the horizon. They’d been out in the barn all night, but Meg didn’t mind, not when everything had gone so smoothly. Not having to jump in and interfere was always the best possible outcome.

“I’m starving,” Nash said. “Let’s go get breakfast.”

With that, he finally tore his eyes away from the horses and wandered off back towards the house. As Meg followed behind him, suddenly starving, she couldn’t help but notice how hisshoulders were no longer hunched up like a protective wall. Maybe she wasn’t the only one whose defenses had crumbled.

CHAPTER 7

MEG

There’s a point in sleep deprivation where you move beyond tired and get giddy instead, like a little kid who’s hyped up on sugar. Meg had reached that point long ago and was now pretty much delirious. Even if she went and laid down in bed, she felt too wired to even be able to sleep, like an overtired baby. Not to mention, there was the very important fact that she was starving.

As soon as they got back to the house, the new foal already up and about on wobbly legs, Meg headed straight for the kitchen. Straight to the fridge really, more on instinct than from any idea of what she was going to make. In fact, she stared at the contents of the refrigerator with blank eyes for a full two minutes. Then a pair of large hands rested on her shoulders and steered her out of the way.

“I think I’ll be the one cooking,” Nash said gently. His usual stony expression had softened in the early morning light.

“I can cook for myself,” Meg protested. He just raised an eyebrow at her.

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