Rough Road Home (The Circle D series) (18 page)

She turned back to the road, her dimple remaining in place on her cheek holding Nick’s gaze with an iron grip. “I can’t imagine yours ever being anything less.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Rachel pulled up beside a snowdrift building up beside what looked to be a full-ton pickup parked in front of a ranch style log home. There hadn’t been tracks to follow to the house, so she guessed the occupants had braced themselves at the first hint of the storm. Lights glowed through the wind-whipped snowflakes and a reflection of firelight danced past the lace curtains. A very Thomas Kincaid-like setting.

She turned off the engine and tried to relax the muscles in her shoulders. She’d never driven through a gruesome snowstorm before and vowed never again. Thank God for listening to her prayers for safe travel.

The silence in the cab was deafening after listening to the clatter of the diesel engine. She glanced at Nick sitting beside her in a moody heap. All she’d said was no, they weren’t going up some steep hill he’d indicated when the lights of a house glowed just up the road. She didn’t care that his house was at the top of the hill. Certainly his neighbors would offer them shelter at least until morning.

“C’mon, Nick,” she coaxed. Since leaving Casper, they’d found a common truce and she treasured their fragile peace. “It’s crazy to go up that hill with this wind blowing. And it’s dark - you know I can’t see in the dark. The only thing that kept me on the road this far was the light reflecting off the snow.”

Nick continued to look out the window, the muscles in his jaw working double time. She hated disappointing him, but to have her drive them any further was not in their best interests. “Your neighbors aren’t going to leave us out in the cold.” She hated her pleading tone. For some unknown reason, she’d go up that blasted hill if he asked again. “Please, Nick. Just for tonight.”

The wind howled as snow whipped around the truck. Tiny lines appeared at the corner of his eye. He squinted toward the house as if contemplating the danger of further action. Then, he snapped the handle on the door and twisted out of the cab. Rachel scrambled out and caught up with him at the gate leading to the yard. Nick’s abrupt decisions were driving her batty. One minute he looked rock solid demanding his way and the next? He gave in, just like that. She saved her words since he wouldn’t have heard them in the blowing snow and trudged through the snow behind him to the porch. The corner of the house acted as a wind break and Rachel huddled against the wall as Nick knocked on the door with a heavy fist.

“Easy there, big guy.” She tugged on his arm. “Don’t scare them.”

“They don’t scare easily.” He rapped on the door again.

The porch light came on making the flurry of flakes look like a swarm of moths swirling around them. Rachel buried her nose in his sleeve as a gust of frigid chill bit her cheeks. When the door opened and inside warmth spilled over them, she’d never been happier in her life.

With his palm at the small of her back, Nick guided her through the door. Heat enveloped her and she drew a warm breath of air. They’d stepped into a kitchen filled with people seated at a large table, their faces wide-eyed at the intrusion.

“Sorry for interrupting,” she began.

“Nick!” A sturdy woman in a sweatshirt and jeans, her graying hair caught back in a clip, hurried toward them. “You must be Rachel. Come inside and close the door. For all the storming going on, we didn’t hear you drive up. You’ve got to be freezing.”

Nick urged Rachel forward. He stomped his boots before following her in and closed the door behind him. His tension became palpable as he stepped up behind her.

Maybe she should have tackled the dark road he’d suggested. Rachel glanced around at the expectant faces, uncertain whether she should be concerned that these strangers knew her. “Yes, ma’am, Rachel Hill.”

“Took you long enough to get here.” The dark haired man who’d opened the door returned to the table and stopped beside a very pregnant woman and a boy maybe ten years old. He fixed Nick with a stony stare. “Haven’t you ever heard of calling?”

“Didn’t see the need.”

His chest rumbled with the words. Rachel leaned back a fraction until her shoulder blade wedged between his chest and arm. An older man sat at the far end, bushy brows drawn tightly. Beside him sat a woman with blonde hair who looked close to Rachel’s age and beside her a friendlier version of the man of who’d opened the door. A strange mixture of curiosity and anger filled the room. Fragments of self-defense classes pinged her brain. She leaned into Nick a fraction more as she sized up the crowd. “Thanks for letting us in.”

“Where are my manners?” The woman beside her grasped Rachel’s arm with a confident grip and urged her toward a roaring fire in the living room. “Come in and warm up by the fire.”

Unwilling to get too far from Nick, Rachel stepped aside as the woman reached and unzipped his jacket. “Take off your boots before you stomp through the house.”

She held her breath, waiting for Nick to explode at the order. Instead, he eased out of his boots and shrugged out of his jacket, hanging it on one of the hooks behind the door. Rachel jumped at the tap on her elbow. The pregnant woman stood by her side, her belly beyond huge.

Rachel couldn’t stop staring. “Are you okay?”

She winced in answer and ran a puffy hand over her belly. “Twins. And this snowstorm has them turning somersaults.” Glancing out the window, she drew a quick breath. “I'm swelling up like a sausage, but Doc says any day now. I just hope the roads are clear.”

“Oh, my.” Rachel gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry we intruded.”

“No intrusion.” The man who'd opened the door stepped up and ushered them both to the fire. He glanced around, his dark brown gaze falling on Nick. “Didn’t Nick tell you? We’re family. I’m Gabe Davidson, my wife, Melanie.” He pointed back to the table. “My son, Jason; parents Martin and Grace; my brother, Zac and sister-in-law, Jennifer.” His gaze returned to the doorway where Nick stood. “And apparently, you already know my brother, Nick.”

* * *

The last thing he’d wanted was to come home. He had avoided it for four years and was doing fine on the road, riding bulls, following the circuit. He’d buried himself in his work to keep feelings and emotions at bay. The smell of leather and rangy cowhide infused with the cheers of the crowd had fueled his determination to keep his eyes looking ahead and forgetting there was ever a past.

Until Rachel Hill barreled her way into his life and ripped off the grimy bandage he’d stuffed into the hole of his soul.

Nick didn’t know where to look. His head hurt like the devil and his body couldn’t decide if it was freezing or burning up.

Too many voices; too much noise. Too much family.

He blinked, wrapped in the sights and smells of the house where he’d grown up. The scarred wooden floor that gleamed from a weekly waxing. The overstuffed leather chairs and couch in the living room with an abundance of mismatched pillows stuffed wherever you needed them. The ever-welcoming blaze in the hearth that kept the whole house warm removing the need for an impersonal furnace that had seen very little use over the twenty years since it had been installed.

The family had grown. Gabe had married, so had Zac. There was a boy in the house again and a pair of twin girls on the way. His brothers were happy, they’d made lives for themselves.

He’d married first, yet finished last in the game of life.

He snapped out of his reverie again and focused on the room full of people ahead of him. Rachel thought she could save him from himself by bringing him home, back to family. So much for her logic. Well, she’d be gone in a few days and then, so would he. Somehow, the thought didn’t give him the satisfaction he’d expected.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Gabe waved him toward the fire, a hint of a grin warming his gaze. “I don’t think a concussion and pneumonia mix well.”

“You’re feeding your lady friend to the wolves.” Zac nodded toward Rachel. He sat on the couch across the room and stretched his legs in front of him as he rested his arm on the cushion behind Jennifer. “Not very gentlemanly of you.”

“No one’s called me a gentleman in a long time.” He stopped beside the club chair where Rachel sat and leaned his hip along the arm. She laughed at something his brother had said, her smile wide and light dancing in her eyes when she looked up at him. She seemed so relaxed surrounded by his family. Funny, he’d thought her a loner since she rarely mentioned family or friends, other than Mitch. What else was he wrong about? He brushed away the thought. It didn’t matter anyway. In a day or two, she’d be gone.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t turn up the drive to your house.” She indicated Gabe with a nod. “They put a chain across the road to keep people from taking a wrong turn. Running into that chain would’ve done a number on your grille.”

His heart thumped as she reached up and ran her fingers along his arm, her touch soft and reassuring, as if she knew the torment he fought deep inside. “Good thing you never listen to me.”

She perked. “I listen to you when you have good ideas.”

“Like when?”

Her grin grew wider. “Like when we agree the music does not need to blare in the cab of your truck.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re still calling it my truck.” A rusty grin tugged at his lips. He’d never view his truck the same again. “I was beginning to worry.”

“Don’t assume too much, cowboy.” She patted the pocket of her jeans as she laughed. “I haven’t returned your keys to you yet.”

“Sounds like you have a pretty good handle on our boy, there.” Martin Davidson sat in the lounge chair he’d claimed as his own years ago. He stared over a pair of glasses angled down his nose.

Rachel shook her head. “Not really a handle, but I think I have him figured out. Rodeo cowboys don’t always listen to reason.”

“Bully.” He cuffed her with a gentle swing.

“Grouch,” she countered.

“Sounds like she fits into the family already.” Melanie angled on the couch, her swollen feet up on the cushion, her puffy fingers kneading her belly. “Jen? The three of us can discuss strategy.”

Nick sensed a bond had formed between the women. In less than a half an hour, Rachel managed to fit in and become one of them, something Steph had never done. Not that she had wanted to; she never bothered to try. He waited for the resentment to rise. When it didn’t, his mood lightened and he drew a deeper breath. “Lord, help us all.”

Rachel pushed at his arm as she schooled her face into a scowl. “Don’t mind him. He’s been cooped up in a truck with me for 10 hours and I fear the rise in his blood pressure might have given him a concussion relapse.” She couldn’t keep up the pretense and laughed. “I’ve been trying to keep his head on straight for a week now.”

“Yeah, well. What you know.” He ran his hand down her sleek hair to the base of her neck and gave her a squeeze. “I make a fine co-pilot.”

Warmth ignited in her eyes. Her lashes fluttered as if absorbing more than his words. “You’re okay.”

He held her gaze for a long moment, the crackle of the fire warming the chill from his heart. A week. He’d known her less than a week. It seemed like forever. For once, he ignored his inner cynic, and clutched to hold the feeling. He was so tired of fighting and running.

“I’ll bet the snow is blowing pretty wild up at the Trails’ End. Good thing Zac and Jen stopped by yesterday.” Grace broke into his musing as she stretched and looked out the window. “At the rate that snow is falling, you’ll have to use snowmobiles to get close to the ranch house.”

“It’s easier to cut across the Circle D fields than taking the road. I crossed up to the Trails’ End all the time when I was a kid.” Zac waved off his mother’s concern.

The Trails’ End had been part of the Circle D originally and then used as collateral for a losing hand of poker generations ago. Zac had always held a fascination for the ranch, even as a young boy. It had taken years, but he’d managed to buy back the property.

“I’m just glad Jen and I were here when the prodigal son returned.” Zac turned a stupid grin on Nick.

Nick glared at his youngest brother. Zac was a wizard at math and ran the Davidson Enterprise’s investments and financial holdings. Didn’t matter how valuable he was to the company or how old he’d gotten, he remained an annoying little brother to Nick. “So, you’ve seen me. Go home.”

“No, way.” Zac laughed, not offended in the least. “The way it's snowing, we’ll be here for days. Plenty of time to hear how your adventures trumped your share of work here at the Circle D.”

“Zac.” Jen tugged at his sleeve.

“What? Aren’t we all curious?” A scowl froze on his face. He waved his fingers between himself and Gabe. “After all, he missed both our weddings.”

“His loss, little brother.” Gabe got up from the log box where he’d been feeding wood to the fire and crossed over to the couch. “That left more food for the rest of us.”

Pressure built in Nick’s chest. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone’s feelings when he ignored the invitations that had eventually caught up with him on the road. He hadn’t been prepared to talk to his family, much less attend a sacred event like a wedding.