Reunited With The Bull Rider

The intensity of the thought surprised her. But she had to protect her heart where Nash was concerned. She couldn’t trust him with it. She might not even be able to trust herself with it. She was willing to take that chance if it meant bringing sunshine to the little girl who’d only known darkness.

“I want to help her. But I think we’re expecting too much of her too soon.”

“What do you suggest?” His eyebrows drew together, and he clasped his hands tightly.

“In the pastor’s office, we all agreed that Ruby’s needs come first, right?”

“Yes,” he practically growled.

“Then you and I are going to have to put aside our issues to let her get used to me.”

“I’m not following.”

“The three of us are going to have to spend time together if Ruby’s ever going to trust me enough to be alone with me.”

He looked nauseous. Irritation flared in her chest. Welcome to the club, buddy. It isn’t easy for me to be around you, either.

“You’d really do that...given what I put you through?”

She gave him a firm nod. “Yes. But we need to make it crystal clear to Ruby we are only friends, and there will never, ever be anything romantic between us. I don’t want her to be confused about my role in her life.”

“Of course. Never, ever will there be anything romantic between us.”

“Then we agree.” She should be thankful. But his never, ever had been more forceful than hers.

“Agreed.” He rounded the island and stuck out his hand. She placed hers into it, and his rough, warm skin caused the hair on her arms to rise. He smelled familiar, like aftershave and leather. She snatched her hand back.

Never, ever.

Wouldn’t be difficult as far as she was concerned.

“For how long?” he asked.

“For as long as it takes.”

Chapter Four (#ueafac9b2-a7a5-57e5-8095-d507bcc8face)

“I’m going to soak up a few rays while you create your masterpieces. I’ll be sitting out here if you need me.” Nash slid open the patio door while Amy and Ruby dipped paintbrushes into a cup of water. Once he closed the door and sat in a wrought iron chair, he glanced through the glass at Ruby. Her paintbrush was raised and her eyes locked on him. He waved. She didn’t wave back, just resumed sloshing her paintbrush on the paper. A good sign.

The cool wind whooshed under his collar. He welcomed it. Being cooped up indoors had never been his style, and hovering in the kitchen for the previous hour, trying not to notice Amy, had ramped up his nerves. He was still attracted to her. Maybe even more than before. When they’d dated, he’d been young and brash and out to prove something, and now...well, he had nothing left to prove. He’d thought being the best bull rider in the world would wipe away his childhood, make him feel like somebody. But rather than giving him an identity, all those championships had merely hammered home the fact he was alone. No loved one to celebrate with. No wife to shower with his financial blessings. As a result, he’d taken more and more risks. And grown hollow inside.

Having Amy around reminded him of the emptiness all too well.

He’d forgotten her rich laugh, the way she always smelled like she’d just baked cookies, the sweet way she had with people. Her patience with Ruby had nearly choked him up earlier. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he’d felt since finding out Ruby existed. Only two days had passed since Amy had agreed to mentor Ruby. Once the painting session ended, they would talk to Ruby about Amy’s role in her life. They’d keep it simple.

Although every cell in his body wanted to stand, to pace, to do something, he forced himself to sit there for Ruby’s sake. He’d remain where she could see him. Didn’t want her thinking he’d abandoned her or something. Amy’s insight about Ruby being afraid he’d leave made sense. Growing up, how many times had he felt the same?

But sitting still was hard. He longed to check the stalls in the horse barn again. Nothing but the best for his horses. They’d be arriving tomorrow. Most of them were retired rodeo horses he’d purchased over the years from washed-up cowboys no longer able to support noncompeting animals. Nash had been paying Wade to pasture them. In a way, Wade had pastured him, too. For the past decade, one of Wade’s empty guest cottages had been where Nash crashed when not touring. Wade owned a lot of prime land in Wyoming and oversaw a lucrative horse breeding business as well as a cow-calf operation. Wade’s employees took good care of Nash’s horses, and he never worried about them, knowing they were living the good life.

Yesterday he’d organized the tack room, supervised the hay delivery and checked the pasture and fences with Ruby by his side. She liked the outdoors. Acted more like a normal kid outside than in. He’d been the same way.

The sliding door opened, and Amy poked her head out. “We’re done. Come and see Ruby’s picture.”

He pushed himself to stand, wincing as his hips adjusted. His injuries had all healed, but most days his body felt like it belonged to an older person, not to a man in his prime.

“Let’s see what you made, RuRu.” He stopped behind her chair, and she looked over her shoulder at him, hope and fear in her expression. He recognized it well. As a kid, he’d never known when his mother would scream at him for no reason. Living with her had been tumultuous in every way. That’s why he’d been so grateful for Hank, the man who’d introduced him to bull riding. As a kid, Nash had spent his summers traveling to rodeos with the cowboy who’d briefly dated his mother.

“It’s a bunny,” she whispered as her slender shoulders slumped. He frowned. Did she think he’d make fun of her or something?

“I love how you made the bunny blue and purple.” He knelt beside her, kissing her forehead. “You did a bee-yoo-tiful job.”

Her shining eyes met his, and she wrapped her arms around his neck so tightly he almost choked.