Hard-Riding Cowboy (Kinky Spurs #3) Read online

  “I’m considering it,” Nash replied, resting his hand on the horn of his saddle. Bentley was walking easy. The horse hadn’t given him a single bit of grief for nearly a month now. He’d shaped up nicely, being calm and steady. Nash took pride in that.

  Beckett was quiet awhile as he studied the area, then he nodded at Nash. “Good patch of land. Nice and flat. Lots of space.”

  Exactly what Nash thought. “Not a terrible idea, then?”

  “Not a terrible idea,” Beckett agreed.

  Nash examined the land, considering the thought. Ma would give Nash the land in a second, just as she’d given land to Shep for his company. Still, the building materials cost money. A lot of it.

  “Do me a favor,” Beckett said, drawing Nash’s gaze. “If you need to hire anyone else, think of me.”

  “You’d be interested?”

  Beckett nodded. “I’m good with the young ones. Besides, it sounds like an adventure.” He grinned. “I’m always up for a new adventure.”

  Behind the lightness of his voice, Nash recognized something in Beckett’s eyes. Christ. Had he been looking for the next best thing to come along too? Nash got that. Fuck, did he ever. He had also seen Beckett break some of his father’s horses, and he’d gained their trust. Fast. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Nash told him.

  “Thanks.” Beckett smiled. “Got no doubt Hayes would be in too.”

  “Yeah, I don’t doubt that either,” Nash said with a laugh. Nash had seen a horse do a roll to get Hayes off his back. He hadn’t succeeded. Hayes was about as tough as they came, and he’d be a great asset to the team.

  While that all seemed great, Nash didn’t want to go into debt to finance the new venture either, not with a baby on the way. He glanced down at Bentley, sensing the horse’s gentle mouth. The once abused horse had come so far. Nash made that happen, and he hadn’t really paid that much attention to that talent since he’d been all about the bulls. He was completely useless when it came to dogs. Gus was often proof of that. But horses . . . that he was good at.

  Those thoughts took him away awhile, as did the thought of his son or daughter being proud of their father, until his cell phone started ringing. He grabbed his cell from between his chaps and jeans. River Rock Police Station showed on the screen. He hit answer. “Nash.”

  “Nash, it’s Darryl. I need you to come into the station. Are you free?”

  “When do you need me?”

  “Now.”

  The firmness in Darryl’s voice had stayed with Nash the entire ride back to the farm and even on the drive over to the police station. By the time Nash met up with Darryl outside of an interrogation room at the police station, tension quivered in his muscles.

  “I’m here,” Nash said, offering his hand. “What’s up?”

  Darryl returned the handshake, his expression grim. “I have answers for you. You’re not going to like them.” A couple of uniformed cops strode by them, silencing Darryl a moment before he said, “The missing cattle, the fire, and the food poisoning were all done by Butch Ross.” Darryl turned to the window behind him and lifted the blinds.

  Nash peered in, spotting the longtime Blackshaw Cattle cowboy Butch sitting at a metal table in the cold gray room. Butch hadn’t turned, telling Nash the window was a one-way mirror. The man in his midforties had worked for Blackshaw Cattle since the ranch opened, handling mostly farm duties. He was tall and rough around the edges but had been a hard worker. Nash remembered his father had hired him when he first started Blackshaw Cattle Company, mainly because Butch came from hard times.

  The sting of his betrayal burned. Nash inhaled and exhaled, waiting to feel the hot simmer of rage.

  The anger never came.

  Exhaustion settled across Nash when he turned to Darryl. “What do you need from me?”

  “Nothing, actually,” Darryl replied. “Butch asked to talk to you.”

  “Did he?”

  Darryl nodded. “You up for that?”

  Nash studied Butch, then glanced at Darryl. “Are you certain he’s behind this?”

  “Yeah.” Darryl leaned his shoulder against the wall, folding his arms. “The tests came back yesterday that the beef contained ipecac. It’s a drug that was once used to induce vomiting after suspected poisoning. Once we knew that, I took a good hard look at Blackshaw Cattle employees. We found that Butch had bought the drug illegally online.”

  Nash snorted, his jaw aching from the muscles working. People did stupid shit all the time. Somehow, they thought they’d never get caught. And they always did. “Did Butch confess?” Nash asked, curious.

  Darryl nodded. “He confessed when I presented him with our evidence. I suspect he knew we had him.”

  Nash shook his head slowly, staring at Butch. The man’s head was bowed, his shoulders slumped. “Why wouldn’t he keep his purchase offline?”

  “The drug isn’t easily found anymore.” Darryl gave a knowing look. “And I’m sure he thought you’d never suspect him.”

  Of course, Nash wouldn’t. No one in the family would. Butch had been loyal to the family for so long. He stared at the man, wondering why in the hell Butch would do this to them. He decided he needed those answers, especially since none of this made sense. Nash didn’t doubt for a minute that Clint was also involved.

  He turned to Darryl. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

  * * *

  When Megan woke this morning, finding Nash already gone, it had been bright outside. And stupidly early. Something she had become accustomed to over the last week. The baby seemed to like mornings. Megan had felt far better in the last week than she had for the last couple months, all because she was waking up before eight o’clock. She figured this didn’t bode well for a baby who slept a lot. Which made the fact that two days ago she had promoted Bethany to head bartender, and Bethany had taken over the closing shift, for the best. For the last couple of shifts, Megan had gone into work at ten o’clock and managed the paperwork, then opened the Spurs at eleven. She stayed until five and came home to have dinner with Nash. Lord, she had never been so domesticated.

  All in all, the new schedule was working. And her employees seemed on board with the changes.

  Things were great. Really great. And being only one week from her second trimester, she was thrilled.

  Before she went in for her shift today, and after she fed the kittens, since they were now on wet food, she drove to her parents’ house. That was where she’d been sitting for the last half an hour while Mom had gone inside to answer the phone. Megan rocked in the chair, staring out at the working cattle ranch, rubbing her little belly beneath her tights. Maybe she’d become so used to the guest ranch now that her father’s ranch looked bare . . . or maybe just boring in comparison. Regardless of the hard times Nash had been facing with all the bumps in the road, there was so much life at the Blackshaws’ ranch now. At Irish Creek, it was—and always had been—nose to the grindstone, hardworking cowboys, getting the job done or else they’d be fired.

  Megan smiled down at her belly, and the baby she couldn’t wait to meet. She had gotten her father’s work ethic, but her mother’s heart. And she was glad for it. While Megan had worked her ass off to make Kinky Spurs successful, she liked taking a step back and seeing her employees handling the show. Besides, her only focus right now was creating a good world for her baby to enter. And that wouldn’t happen if she was spending all her time at the Spurs.

  “You’re glowing,” Mom said, when she returned outside with a couple of glasses of lemonade. Homemade. And to die for. “Did you know that?”

  “I’m glowing because I’m happy,” Megan confirmed.

  Mom smiled softly. “I’m glad you’re happy, but I meant that pregnancy looks good on you.” She dropped a kiss to Megan’s forehead. “Does that also mean that your father and Nash have found some middle ground?”

  Megan shrugged. “They’re both trying. That’s all I can ask. At least now I feel like finding some peace is possible.”


  “You’ve done a good job through all this, honey.” Mom took the seat next to Megan. “They’ll do the right thing. Don’t doubt that.”

  For the first time, Megan actually thought that was a possibility. Not that Nash and her father would ever truly get along, but that they loved her enough to tolerate each other. “For a long time, I don’t think either Nash or Dad cared enough about doing the right thing,” Megan admitted to her mom. “They only saw their pride.”

  “They are men, sweetie.” Mom smiled.

  Megan laughed. “True enough.”

  “My beautiful girls,” Dad called.

  Megan looked at the barn, finding her father walking toward them. His clothes were clean and unwrinkled. Obviously, he’d done more overseeing this morning than getting his hands dirty.

  He climbed the steps. Kissed his wife first. Then dropped a kiss onto Megan’s forehead. “How are you and my grandbaby doing?” he asked.

  She smiled, rubbing her belly again. “We’re both great.”

  Dad moved to the post on the porch and leaned against it, crossing his arms. “You’re up early? Is that a new thing?”

  Of course he would notice that. “I switched up the shifts at the bar. I’m home earlier now.”

  “Makes sense,” he said, surprising her by being so agreeable. “You must get tired.”

  “So tired,” Megan muttered.

  Mom gave her a sweet smile and reached for Megan’s hand. “I’m so proud of you. You’re being selfless and loving . . . You’re going to be such an amazing mother, Megan—”

  Squealing tires stole the tears rising in Megan’s eyes. She turned in their direction, finding Nash’s truck speeding up the driveway, billowing dust behind him.

  The truck came to a sudden stop, and Nash was out the door a second later, leaving it ajar. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find out?”

  Mom heaved a sigh. “I thought we were actually getting somewhere.”

  Yeah, so did Megan. Her lips parted to step in, when she was momentarily stunned by the rage on Nash’s expression. Megan had seen him hate her father before. But this was different. Dad had done something unforgivable. She knew it, and deep down she had a bad feeling that what he’d done had to do with all the problems at the guest ranch.

  She slowly looked at her father. His face was growing redder by the second. No, this couldn’t happen again. No.

  “You’re going to answer for what you’ve done,” Nash snarled.

  “No.”

  Megan blinked, realizing she’d actually said that aloud.

  Nash set his rage-filled eyes onto her. “You need to hear this, Megan.”

  In one second, it was like all the steps forward they had taken were suddenly gone. Something in her heart snapped then, rushing her with an awareness that she could no longer run from. “No, actually, I don’t,” she said, moving closer to them. “I’m done. If it’s not you,” she said to Nash, then glanced at her father, “then it’s you. It’s just this constant back and forth that never stops. Ever. You both want to destroy each other, but I don’t have to watch you do it.” Her voice blistered now that she was finally saying all the things she hadn’t been able to say before. “I can’t live around all this hate anymore. I refuse to bring a baby into this.” She turned to Nash and softened her voice. “You’ve been trying, and I really appreciate that, but you hate him. And you have a right to. I’m sure he’s done something horrible and deserves whatever you want to throw his way. But I’m choosing to no longer be a part of this fight.”

  “Megan.” Nash frowned.

  Not letting anyone speak but her, she turned to her father. “You have been horrible to the Blackshaw family for years, for land . . . for money . . . for notoriety. But guess what? I have nothing to do with that. The Blackshaws have been wonderful and welcoming to me. They’re a good family, and I’m so happy that our baby will grow up around them.” To Nash, she placed her hands on her belly, and added, “We tried for this little one. We should feel good about that, but this isn’t going to work. You know it. I know it. And I’m done pretending that I can somehow fix how much you hate each other. Neither of you are going to change.”

  Nash crossed his arms and frowned. “If you only—”

  “Nope.” She shook her head firmly. “I don’t want to know what he’s done or how you plan on dealing with it. You two figure it out. I want no part of this anymore.” She glanced from Nash to her father. Sadness tightened her throat. This wasn’t the future she wanted. “Consider this the last time we will ever be together.”

  More than done with all of this, she strode past her mother then trotted down the stairs. On her way past Nash, he snagged her wrist.

  “Megan,” he said softly.

  She took his hand, squeezing tight, fighting the tears. “You don’t need to say anything. There’s nothing to do anymore. Nothing more to say.” She felt the hopelessness in the situation, right down to her toes. “I fought against this feud between the families since I was little, wishing all the anger would go away. But I realize now that will never happen.” Nash’s eyes filled with sympathy. She pressed on before she burst into tears. “You hate each other. I know why.” She cupped Nash’s cheek. “But I love you both so much.”

  Nash went statue-still at her admission, his expression revealing nothing.

  She couldn’t go back now. She loved him. She had for years, but she had always been too afraid that this feud would do exactly what it was doing right now—hurt her. Megan refused to live in fear any longer. She’d live on her terms. “The truth is, I realize I can’t have it all. And that’s okay. I know that now. Just like I know that I’m going to have to love you separately.” She lowered her hand from Nash’s face, and he took her fingers in his and squeezed. “I refuse to bring our baby into this madness. I won’t. It’s not healthy. It’s so damn sick. So, you’re both off the hook, okay? You don’t need to be around each other. There, it’s done.”

  Mom burst into tears. “Clint, fix this.”

  Dad glared at Nash, obviously blaming him.

  Megan shut her eyes and sighed, knowing this would never end. Dad would burn Nash, and Nash would want to bury Dad. The feud would live on and on. She couldn’t do this anymore.

  “Megan,” Nash said gently, and she reopened her eyes to him.

  She gave him a smile she knew looked terribly sad and rose on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his firm lips.

  “You don’t understand,” he said when she broke away.

  “That’s the thing, Nash,” she told him. “I don’t want to understand.” She pulled her hand out of his tight hold and strode toward her car, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

  She got into her car then grabbed her cell off the passenger side seat, quickly finding Jannie’s contact info. The phone began ringing through the Bluetooth speaker, while Megan drove off, forcing herself not to look back.

  Two rings later, Jannie said, “Hi, Megan. How are things?”

  Things were what they were. Megan was determined to make them better. On her terms now. “Listen, I’m calling to see if that house I looked at is still available?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Great,” Megan said, never so sure about anything, not even when she bought Kinky Spurs. “Let’s put in an offer, but stick a financing condition in there, just in case.”

  “And away we go,” Jannie said.

  Chapter 16

  The dust from Megan’s car still billowed around Nash as he left Clint seething on his front porch. Everything had changed when Megan said those three little words. Yeah, he’d known she loved him. Christ, he knew that because of how he felt about her. There was only one woman he’d chase for years and never stop trying to snag her heart. But it occurred to him now that there was something far worse than not having Megan’s love. And that was having her compromise for him. To deny herself the happiness and life she deserved because she was so desperate for peace that she’d take it any way sh
e could have it.

  His head spun, and he needed to find solid ground again.

  Two people did that for him.

  When he got into his truck, watching Clint comforting Megan’s mother, he took out his cell and texted his brothers: We need to meet. It’s urgent.

  Shep replied first: Meet at my place.

  Then Chase responded: On my way.

  Nash started the engine and drove off down the driveway, hating this entire situation. The look Megan had given him before she left stayed with Nash the entire drive over to Shep’s place. He didn’t doubt for a moment that she wasn’t thinking about how much the fight between the families hurt her anymore. She was thinking about the future pain of their child having to endure the feud too. And the entire thing made Nash feel like shit.

  This wasn’t the man he wanted to be to Megan, or the father he wanted to be to their child. He wanted to lift Megan up, give her the world in the way he knew she deserved, and make her smile. These past weeks they’d created a life he could no longer live without.

  More importantly, he didn’t want to become like her father, who was one way with her and a different way with others.

  Still, his conversation with Butch repeated in his mind.

  Torn in so many directions, Nash arrived ten minutes later to find Shep and Chase waiting on the porch for him. Nash parked his truck next to Chase’s and didn’t waste time, explaining the second he exited the truck, “I’ve come from the police station.”

  Shep sat a little taller in the rocking chair, as did Chase from the landing on the porch.

  Yeah, Nash had expected their reaction. He trotted up the steps and took a seat in the rocking chair next to Shep. “Here’s what I know.” That began a lengthy conversation in which he rehashed the details of everything he’d learned from Darryl. “There you have it,” Nash finally finished. “Butch is behind it all, but I’m damn sure that Clint plays a part too.”

  “Unbelievable,” Shep growled, rising to pace the porch. “Okay, tell me this: how does Clint fit into all this?”

  Nash ran his hands over his tired eyes. “When I talked to Butch, I told him that I knew he wouldn’t have done this alone. There’s no fucking way. He started crying and apologizing and saying that he had no choice. He did it for his wife.”