Page 62 of Breaking the Cowboy's Rules

“We weren’t going to talk about that until after the Bash,” his granddad said firmly.

“It’s hard not to talk about,” Bodhi admitted. “You’ve got us worried.”

“Worry’s not all bad.” Granddad reached out and touched his shoulder, steadying him as Bodhi drove the oh-so-familiar route home to the ranch. “Can help you focus on what’s important. Quiet the other noise and kick you in the behind to get a strategy.”

Bodhi wasn’t sure about that. He had a plan. Wasn’t all that sure it was a good one anymore. It seemed to be getting away from him. And he was still worried.

“I got my three grandsons with me. My daughters are coming out, and I didn’t even ask this year. I’ve finally seen you look at a woman like I used to look at my Mara. Bowen was doing more than talking with little Lang, who deserves some happiness as much as he does, so let’s just save the worry and have a good time. Plenty of time to talk and worry about the future come Monday.”

Chapter Ten

“This place isamazing.” Nico looked around the smaller barn on Plum Hill that had old-fashioned farm equipment and all sorts of other vintage items that looked like something out of a combined antique show and flea market. “This could be its own discovery reality show or a shabby farm chic redecorating reality show.”

“Or an episode ofHoarders,” Bodhi said. “Obviously Ballantynes are thrifty and throw nothing away. Five generations of junk.”

“Junk! Try treasure! Look at that rolltop desk. And that piece with all the cubbies and drawers.”

“None of this is what we are looking for. Did you have fun last night?”

It was the second time he’d asked her that.

“Yes.” She steeled herself to look into his face that was already so familiar to her she wasn’t sure how she was just going to ride away with a wave and a smile in a week. “I had a lovely evening. You know that, Bodhi.”

He nodded, looked like he was about to say something and then changed his mind. “Me too.”

“Good. That’s the game we got going on,” and then she felt bad for minimizing her feelings. “I love the way you are with your granddad. I didn’t have that kind of relationship with my brothers like you do with your cousins. And my parents…” She shook her head, not ready to go there. How could she explain her nationally reviled family?

“What I have with my granddad and cousins is special. I know that. I don’t remember my dad as well as I’d like, and after he killed himself, my mom packed up all of his things the night she heard the news and didn’t mention him again. She rode my ass growing up like my childhood was one long cattle drive. She’s a federal judge. Totally career oriented. I feel like Bowen and Granddad raised me.”

She’d pushed the fact that Bodhi’s mom was a federal judge to the back of her mind. And his mom would be arriving later today. Chills tap-danced down her spine.

It was fine. She schooled herself to pull herself together. Even with the press coverage, she had not been the face of the fight. Her work had been behind the scenes. And with her hair red and worn loose along with a very different wardrobe, she didn’t look at all like Samara Wentworth, the austere, buttoned-up attorney.

I sound like a criminal on the run.

“I feel like you just went somewhere. Being with you is like trying to hold a stream in my hand,” Bodhi complained.

“Keeps things moving,” she said flippantly, irritated with herself getting all mushy. She had no right to want more than Bodhi wanted to give. Besides, he didn’t even know who she really was. She had never been so impractical or dreamy in her thirty-one years.

“What is it that we are looking for in this treasure trove you sacrilegiously call junk?” She dragged herself back into the moment and away from the danger of overthinking.

“We are looking for large spools for tables—those will be by the back door. We can roll them out. And then there are these rusted metal lanterns that are made out of old wine and whiskey barrel staves. And the rolls of party lights.”

“Oh, I see them.” Nico, her imagination caught by the interesting-looking hanging lights, hoisted herself on the top of a rolltop desk and reached to unhook a rope that was tied together with the party lights looped over it. She thought with the height differentiation, the rolls of lights would slide toward her.

She wasn’t sure what happened. She had one string of lights in her hand, but the rest of the rolls skidded down faster than she’d anticipated, and one of them knocked over a lantern. It was a chain reaction—lights, lanterns speeding toward her like a real-life Montana barn Rube Goldberg device. She squeaked and jumped back, forgetting she was on a desk.

She heard Bodhi say her name, and then she was tight in his arms, his hand over her head sheltering her as things clanged down around them.

She scrunched up and squeezed her eyes shut for all the good that would do, and when it was finally quiet with dust motes dancing in the air, she risked a peek through the cage of Bodhi’s arm.

“Oh. Good,” she breathed. “Nothing broke.”

“Are you okay?” Bodhi ran his hands quickly over her body and turned her to face him.

“Yes.” She still felt a bit shaky. “Just clumsy.”

His voice sounded tight. And then she saw the gash on his lower forearm, and his wrist that was white and red and starting to swell.

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