Rough Road Home (The Circle D series) (21 page)

She’d been spinning the past for years.

Outside, the sparkling, sunlight-tipped pines symbolized the epitome of a winter wonderland, the cheery brightness only an illusion as the mountain valley stood in the eye of the storm — so to speak. A calm washed across the fields at the moment, but the second wave of snowstorm stood poised to batter the mountainside again within hours.

Just like countless promises broken because something better had come up.

Her heart pounded in her throat as truth dawned. She’d fallen in love with Nick Davidson. A rodeo cowboy; a bull rider. A man so much like her father, her heart splintered and he hadn’t even broken it yet.

She blinked back the sting of tears.

Nick was home. She’d fulfilled her promise to Uncle Mitch.

“I have to go.” Rachel turned and got as far as the kitchen before she felt a gentle grip on her arm.

“You can’t leave.”

“You told me yourself you don’t want a babysitter.” An unexplainable panic made the words pour out. “I got you home, you’re safe now. There’s plenty of people around to make sure you don’t check out again. Remember to take the pills when--”

“You can’t leave yet.” He pulled her closer and brushed her hair from her face. “You’ll never get past the canyon once the snow starts blowing again. Rachel.”

His large hand tugged at her in desperation, his grip as gentle as if he held a fine china cup. When she looked up, the muscles in his cheeks had bunched solid and his lips formed a thin line.

“Nick, I have to get back. Today’s Saturday, I should have left this morning. It’s not too late yet if I leave right now. I’ve been away from my clients too long. My boss. . ..” Her words trailed as she resisted the subtle pressure urging her away from the door.

“Is your job so vital you’d risk your life? Look at the storm clouds forming over the peaks. They’ll be over us in no time filled with another dump of snow. Blowing snow. You could barely see to get here, remember?” His voice cracked as he swallowed. The air tingled around them. With a gentle touch of his fingertips on her jaw, he turned her to face him, his blue gaze full and searching. “You’ll never make it down the mountain, Rachel. Please, don’t do this.”

Tears clouded her vision as she stood grappling with her choices. If she left, she faced treacherous mountain roads and blizzard conditions. If she stayed, she faced her own heart. She loved Nick Davidson. She knew him to be a man of courage and strength. She’d seen evidence of compassion and sincerity.

And a strong penchant for self-destruction.

Rodeo cowboys had no place in her life. She needed dependable and present, both virtues non-existent in bull riders. Safe, hardworking men like the other brokers she knew. She’d dated casually, but no relationship had manifested itself in her heart. That was good. The Lord had someone special planned for her. Some day her dreams would come true.

She had to get away from Nick with his boyish charm and his strength of convictions. She had her own convictions and their separate dreams would never mesh. His big, strong hands slid from her shoulders down her arms leaving a path of warmth in their wake, as her internal war waged on. For all of the man’s gruff, he’d turned out to be a kind and sensible guy - a dangerous combination.

A guy who would leave her at the first opportunity to ride eight seconds to glory.

Not a chance she wanted to take. Ever.

“Nick, I can’t stay here. Look, the hospital checked you out, gave you medicines and told you to be careful. You’re a big boy, you can be careful for just a little while, can’t you?”

“I’m not worried about me, I’m scared to death for you.”

“Trust me, I’ll be praying the whole way down the mountain.”

“Trusting is all well and good, but if I remember right, the Lord also says not to test him unnecessarily. Isn’t that why he gave humans common sense? Rachel, the roads will be cleared in a day or two. Is the pull of the city so great for you?”

“It’s not the city.” She shook her head. “It’s not my job.”

He searched her face, his breath turning ragged. “What’s so sure-fire important that you’d risk your life?”

She bit her bottom lip to keep from blathering every last fear hidden in her heart.

His grip tightened on her forearms as he gaze softened. “What do you want from me?”

Quit the rodeo
. He’d never do it, she’d never ask.

She’d be in big trouble if he ever did.

As her silence stretched, he cocked a brow and squeezed her arm before he let her go. Taking a step back against the kitchen counter, Nick gave her plenty of room. “There’s a winter storm warning in effect and you’re chancing a drive through unfamiliar canyons and mountain passes. All for a day or two jump on your return to Denver.” His lips pulled tight before he blew another breath. “You said I was reckless like your father. Well, Rachel Hill, look in the mirror. You’ve got more foolhardiness in you than all us rodeo cowboys combined.”

* * *

Even as the words left his mouth, he wished them back. He’d dealt her a cheap shot and he knew it.

Rachel spun around and ran from the kitchen, the door almost slamming in his face as he raced to follow. He caught her just as she rounded the corner of the house into the blinding sunlight reflecting off the snow. A brisk breeze bit his cheeks warning of the upcoming storm despite the clear blue sky overhead. He snagged her sleeve and brought her up against him.

“Let me go.”

It was past time to set things right and say the words he should have said years ago. “Just know if you leave, I’m coming after you.”

“I hate you.” She tried to tug away.

The muddy paste of disgust coated his mouth. “You should.”

Opening her mouth in silent protest, she tilted her head the slightest measure. “First you insult me, then you threaten me. What’s wrong with you? Why would you follow me?” She twisted. "Let go of me."

“Because.” Before habit slammed shut the protective walls around his heart, a gentle surrender tugged at his soul. He was tired of fighting, tired of shying away from anyone who threatened to come too close. The truth of the matter was that Nick wanted to bond, and not with just anyone, he wanted to bond with Rachel. “I’m sorry.”

Clearly startled, she stopped pulling away, the clean scent of cold and snow wrapping around him like a lasso. “You should be.”

He’d stomped all over her feelings. He deserved no mercy, but God in heaven, he wanted it. “I’ve been. . .difficult.”

“Difficult?” She shook free of his hold, the color in her face having nothing to do with the cold. She stomped around him in the snow but showed no signs of hijacking the ATV. “Difficult? You’ve been impossible. I’ve tried to be understanding and compassionate this whole asinine trip and what do I get? A lecture about my character from your skewed cowboy perspective.”

“I’m wrong.” He held still as she circled him, her arms flailing the air. He’d take his licks and pray she’d forgive him in the end.

“You bet you’re wrong.” Her voice carried on the wind. “You don’t know me at all.”

He nodded slowly. “And I talk before I think.”

She halted in front of him. Squaring her stance, she set her hands on her hips. “Since the moment I met you.”

“I’ve been a miserable traveling companion.”

Her fury appeared to diminish as she cocked her head. Her fists disappeared as she rubbed her hands together. “The worst. Why are you agreeing with me?”

“Because,” he dragged the words out. “I happen to agree with the assessment of a wise woman.”

“Who?” she asked cautiously as if about to step into a trap.

“The one who said something about a bull rider not being able to tell the difference between a come-on and a come-along.” His muscles relaxed when her eyes grew round in recognition of her own words. “I believe she mentioned something about his stupidity jumping up and biting him in the seat of his Wranglers?”

Her shoulders relaxed and she waved her finger for him to continue. “Go on, I’m listening.”

More? “And he’s moody.”

Her brilliant green eyes narrowed, studying him with a razor-sharp edge cutting through the years of perfected bravado. A smile tugged at her full lips as her clear laughter rang across the snow field into the surrounding pines.

“So tell me something I don’t know, cowboy. I’m used to your grump.” Her stance relaxed as she folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip. “Actually, there's been a time or two you've warmed my heart.”

Breath escaped his lungs. For a moment, he’d worried she’d given up on him. “Are you sure it’s not indigestion?”

The wind kicked up and she took a step closer. “Quite.”

Nick reached out and pulled until her soft curves matched his sharp angles. Strands of hair brushed his cheek as he inhaled her familiar scent. Her warm and soft lips met his with a hint of peppermint on her breath. Her little moan made him thread his fingers through her hair and hold tight. Tenderness and need crashed through him as her arms wrapped around his waist and she returned his kiss. When he pulled back, the familiar emptiness returned along with an aching need too fierce to dismiss. “Maybe you should slap me for being so forward.”

Her glistening gaze searched his. “Maybe you should kiss me again.”

That shouldn’t have been her answer, but who was he to argue? He pressed his lips to hers and imagined heaven on earth couldn’t have been any sweeter.

Given an eternity, he’d never tire of kissing her.

“You are so sweet.” He pulled back and threaded his fingers through her hair, marveling at the fiery highlights in the brilliant sunshine.

“You’re alright, yourself, cowboy.” She nuzzled into his collar. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

He loved the feel of her smile against his skin. “Yeah, but how many of your first dates lasted for days?”

Obviously ignoring his remark, she loosened her hold on his neck and moved her hand to his sleeve. “I believe God worked a miracle here. I think we’re seeing eye to eye.”

At the mention of God and miracles, Nick felt his chest tighten. A miracle now? He tried to remember all the reasons he’d shut God out of his life in the past few years. He recalled memories, but the desperation that had driven him so far from home seemed beyond his reach. He slipped his fingers from her hair and closed his eyes against the brilliance of the sun reflected off the snow. A miracle? Anything was possible.

“Nick?” Rachel tugged on the front of his jacket until he opened his eyes and looked at her. A sheen covered her clear green eyes turning them to sparkling emerald. “Nick, nothing is so bad that you have to throw away your life.”

“There’s so much you don’t understand,” he muttered, all the while fixed on her gaze. He didn’t want to talk about anything. He didn’t want to lose the calm he’d found.

“But I do understand.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled close. Nick couldn’t help but return the embrace and hold her tighter. When Rachel held him, he no longer felt alone.

“Not everything in life turns out the way we want it to. Sometimes we just have to let go. There was nothing you could do about Stephanie, nothing anyone could do to stop her. Stop beating yourself up, Nick. Let go.”

Nick wanted desperately to argue the point, but she held him close and all his reasons blurred together until he couldn’t summon a rational thought. Peace enfolded him, obscuring the cloak of guilt he’d hidden behind for the past four years. Hadn’t there been anything he could’ve done to save Stephanie short of losing his own life? As he thought about the accident, sadness surged through his heart. So many years wasted on an event he couldn’t change.

“Put the past where it belongs and look to the future,” he whispered into her hair. Loosening his hold, he studied her round eyes and full lips. The cold breeze nipped her cheeks rosy. “So, do you know anything about my future?”

“No more than I know about mine.” She grinned up at him. “God leads; we, but follow.”

Lacing his fingers through hers, Nick wrapped his other hand around her waist. “I’ve gotten used to going places with you.” He captured her lips and wanted to cheer when she eagerly returned his kiss.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

His mother hadn’t changed a thing in his old room since he’d moved out of the house. Nick didn’t know if that was a good thing, or not.

The shelves of rodeo trophies; his collection of arrowheads stacked on his desktop; the posters of rodeo pros tacked to the walls. Nick ran his fingers over the worn green quilt beneath him as he sat propped up against the headboard he’d made in woodworking class. Some things never changed.

The familiar bedroom in his parents’ house always provided a safe haven, no matter the danger, real or imagined.

Footsteps in the room beside his broke into his memories. He’d listened to Rachel pace the floor for the past hour. He glanced out the window and ventured to blame the snow falling in big, fat flakes since yesterday evening responsible for her agitation. Watery light filtered in through his window instead of the pitch darkness expected at six o’clock in the morning. She’d made the trek so many times, he could predict her movements back and forth like a wind-up toy stuck in a cycle.