Page 49 of Last Chance for Her Rancher Boss

As the hours dragged on and Nash well and truly ran out of things to distract himself with, he went from trying to ignore the anxiety to focusing all of his attention on it. It was easier than acknowledging the sadness that was creeping around the edge of his thoughts. He wished Meg was here. He wished she could see how nice the buildings had turned out now that he’d added the final touches. He wished he could say he was sorry and have her believe him. He wished for a lot of things that were probably never going to come true.

Finally, he heard the telltale rattle of a car coming up the dirt driveway. He tried to look busy, because standing there looking like he was waiting for them would just be creepy. And that was definitely not the impression he wanted to make. So instead of waiting there awkwardly, he set about moving a pile of spare lumber piece by piece to a separate pile, even though there was no reason to do so.

When he deemed it safe to turn around and greet his guests without coming off as insane, he turned around with his best megawatt smile, which promptly fell off his face in shock. Meg was walking towards him, looking unsure. But she was wearing that sundress, and she looked beautiful as well.

Her mom was there too. Nash hadn’t seen Rebecca Whitmore in a decade, but she looked basically the same. While Meg looked hesitant and shy, Rebecca waved a hand with a big smile of her own.

“Hello, Nash. Long time, no see.”

“Uh, yeah…” he said, trying to piece it all together. “Are you…”

“I booked, yes. I wanted to see what you were getting up to these days. Also, you and Meg really do need to have a conversation.”

She was as blunt as ever. Nash had no idea how to respond to that, but Meg laughed. Actually laughed. As if she and her mom were on good terms or something.

“What are you doing with the lumber?” Meg asked.

“Trying not to look creepy,” he said. The complete ridiculousness of the answer made her smile, and that made Nash’s heart come alive in his chest for the first time in days.

“She surprised me with a girls’ trip,” Meg said, jabbing a thumb at her mom. “So yeah, hi. I guess.”

“I did say, Meggy, that it would be the last time I meddled in your life, but you really must talk this out with each other. No more sulking. Oh look, a baby,” her mom said, shielding her eyes as she gazed over at Tilly and her foal. “How delightful. You two catch up. I’ll be admiring the horses.”

Without further ado, she waltzed off to the fence to do just that, leaving Nash alone with Meg on the driveway.

“She tricked me,” Meg said dryly, gesturing at her mother, who was giving Nickel a tentative pat on the nose.

“Yeah,” said Nash. “I didn’t think you’d be back here willingly.”

Her face fell. “I wanted to come back…” she said, voice almost too soft to hear.

There was an awkward pause as she folded her arms over her chest. Nash wanted nothing more than to sweep in and use his own arms to wrap her up, squeeze her tight and make her feel safe.

There was an order to this though, wasn’t there? They should talk first. Then he should apologize, even though it would be stilted and awkward and horrible. But there was anorder. But you know what? Screw it. Following the right order of things had never done him any good.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Meg, folding her in, holding her close, his cheek pressed against her hair. Nash waited for Meg to push him away. He half expected her to slap him, maybe. He deserved it. Instead, she softened, her whole body loosening in his arms as he held her. Her fingers hesitantly gripped onto the front of his shirt and then gripped harder when she realized that he wasn’t letting go.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lips brushing against the warm strands of her hair. He’d thought of so many elaborate things to say, a million long-winded apologies. In the end it was just “I’m sorry.” But it sounded right. It felt right.

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry too.”

Nash pulled back slightly to look at her face, but he simply couldn’t bear to let go of her shoulders. He didn’t want to let go of her ever again.

“What are you sorry for?” he asked, confused. He was the jackass here, not Meg.

“Because…” she said, thinking so hard her eyebrows pinched together, her hands still gripping his shirt. “I don’t know.”

“Well, we can both be sorry,” he said, attempting a smile. “It can be like a bonding experience or something.”

“Yeah,” Meg said with a little laugh. “We’ve got to start somewhere, I guess.”

He rubbed her upper arms, feeling Meg’s muscles relax ever so slightly beneath his hands.

“So, I was going to give my first guests a tour around our freshly renovated buildings,” he said, not sure where to go from here but stumbling forward regardless.

“Did you have a speech ready?” she said with a sly little smile.

“Yeah, I did actually. It’s really good, too.”

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