This Place Called Home: Includes Bonus Story! (Forget-Me-Not Ranch) Page 4

  “It’s raining like crazy,” the man said begrudgingly behind her. “And it’s the middle of the night.”

  “Oh well.” She continued on to the door, where Jasper had plopped down as though he wanted to block her path. “Believe it or not, I’ve driven in the dark and in the rain before.” She wasn’t as helpless as he likely thought she was.

  Mack marched down the hall and flipped on all the lights in the house, vaguely aware Nash was following her, but she refused to turn around. Now if she could just find her car keys…

  She did a lap around the kitchen checking the countertops. Nope. She obviously hadn’t left them there. She tried to think back.

  Oh yeah. After she and Agatha had gotten back from the tour of the ranch, the woman had told her she’d move Mack’s car into the garage because rain was coming. She’d taken the keys and hadn’t brought them back.

  “Everything okay?” Nash had stooped to pet Jasper, who was whining as though he knew Mack was going to leave. At some point, the man had put his jeans back on, but his bare chest still drew her eyes.

  “Your aunt has my car keys.” She glanced at the clock on the stove. It was after midnight. “I guess I’ll have to wake her up.”

  She couldn’t stay here. Not with Nash. Not with him looking at her like that. Like she was one of the strays his aunt brought in. Though technically she was.

  The man stood up and walked over, stopping directly across from her, his pecs right at eye level. “Go back to bed. I’ll sleep in the spare room tonight.” For the first time, he cracked what might’ve been a very light shadow of a smile. Or maybe her eyes were tired.

  “I’ll be in big trouble if you wake up my aunt right now.”

  She hesitated. Staying would mean she couldn’t prove a point.

  “Besides that, I’d feel bad if something happened to you on the road,” Nash went on. “It’s not a good idea to drive at this hour, even in good conditions.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he turned and headed down another hall on the other side of the kitchen.

  “Fine,” Mack called to his retreating back. “I’ll stay.”

  But she definitely wouldn’t sleep.

  Chapter 5

  Whoa Nelly, was she in for it.

  Agatha gazed out the window, which happened to face Nash’s house. Even with the dim predawn lighting, she could see his truck sitting there next to the porch. Her boy was home.

  Didn’t that just beat all? “Perfect timing too,” she murmured, replacing the curtain in the spare bedroom. She didn’t know what had brought him back to the ranch now, and she didn’t much care. All that mattered was he had come home. And…Mack was here. If that wasn’t fate, she didn’t know what was.

  All around her, the naughty ingrate goats bleated and butted heads. They were getting stir crazy in this room. They’d woken her up well before her six o’clock alarm to let her know as much.

  “Don’t you worry,” she told them, hurrying over to the trash bags she’d brought into the room with her. “You’re all well enough to go back out to the stable.”

  And she had a feeling Mack would need to come and stay with her now, given the new development with Nash. Hopefully, her nephew hadn’t already run the poor woman off.

  She giggled while she cleaned up the trash the goats had scattered around the room—pieces of cardboard from the boxes they’d gnawed on, shreds of the fabric from blankets she’d put in there to make them more comfortable.

  Boy howdy, if only she could’ve been there to see Nash’s face when he’d discovered Mack sleeping in his room in the middle of the night.

  Agatha was surprised she hadn’t heard his truck coming up the drive but, then again, they’d had one humdinger of a storm, and she always slept like a baby when it rained.

  Boy, oh boy, she’d like to bet her nephew had been surprised. And Mack—hopefully the intrusion hadn’t given the woman a terrible fright.

  While she continued to clean, Clancy, Patterson, Cussler, and Grisham continued to dart around and provoke each other in head-butting competitions.

  She’d named the goats after the authors she’d always had crushes on, but probably should’ve named them after the Stooges. They were nowhere near as distinguished as Tom and James and Clive and John.

  “Settle down now, you hooligans,” she commanded, tying up one of the trash bags. “We have to get the room shipshape for Mack.” Agatha couldn’t have the woman running back down to Denver now. Not when Nash was here. Not when they could be here together.

  Ever since she was a little girl, Agatha had gotten feelings about people just like she did about animals, and she had a feeling about Mack.

  It almost seemed like the woman was a missing piece, a connection she and Nash both needed. She couldn’t explain it, but when she’d seen that dear girl sprawled out on the concrete in her wedding dress, a part of Agatha’s heart had clicked into place and she’d decided both she and Nash needed Mack as much as the woman needed them.

  Agatha spent a few more minutes cleaning up scraps from the floor, and then she went straight on to the mopping. She likely hadn’t mopped the floors in her house since God was a boy, but she wanted everything to be perfect for Mack.

  She knew nothing about the woman’s situation. All she knew was Mack needed to be here. It was just like the animals she brought in—they needed a new place where they could thrive instead of simply survive.

  But she knew she’d have her work cut out for her convincing Mack to stay, especially if Nash had been his prickly self last night.

  Agatha opened the door to the bedroom, setting the goats free. They took off into the living room, knocking over furniture in their haste to explore. “This is why we can’t have nice things,” she muttered, lugging the mop back into the kitchen. She stashed it in the broom closet and turned, her gaze landing directly on a set of car keys sitting on the counter.

  She’d forgotten to return them to Mack, and it couldn’t be more perfect. It wouldn’t be a normal day if Agatha didn’t misplace something.

  If it hadn’t been that way her whole life she’d worry she was going senile, but it didn’t matter if she was ten years old or seventy-four, things like sunglasses and her phone and car keys were hard to keep track of.

  Glancing around to make sure not even the goats were witnesses, she slipped Mack’s car keys into the shallowest pocket of her overalls and then returned to the living room, where she proceeded to shoo the goats out the front door. Somehow, she managed to herd them all along the scenic route to the stable up on the hill.

  She unlocked the gate, giving the kittens fair warning before ushering in the delinquents. “Go on now. Get into your pen.”

  Clancy, Patterson, Cussler, and Grisham frolicked past her, obviously giddy to be back outside. As she locked the gate, Agatha patted that shallow pocket on her overalls, which was now empty. “Oopsie. I wonder where those keys went.”

  Smiling to herself, she went about feeding the other pups, the kittens, and Humphry the pig. When she turned to walk out of the stable, Humphrey nibbled on her pant leg as though he wanted her to stay.

  “Sorry, Mr. Bogart.” She leaned over to scratch his head. “I can’t play this morning. I’ve got a big breakfast to cook.”

  Unless she missed her guess, Nash would be hot under the collar because she’d stashed a woman in his bedroom without giving him a warning.

  And nothing worked the magic of penance like her buttermilk flapjacks and fried bacon.

  Before he even climbed out of bed, Nash could smell the bacon and Aunt Agatha’s famous flapjacks.

  The mixture of salty and sweet got his mouth watering, and yet he’d have to play this cool. He’d have to pretend he wasn’t starving—that the last meal he’d eaten hadn’t been a good eighteen hours ago.

  Throwing off the covers, Nash heaved himself up and out of bed. It would’ve been a hell of a lot easier to get himself going if he’d been able to get any shuteye last night.

  But
between the loony woman—runaway bride?—in his bedroom and the overly stiff mattress he’d slept on, he estimated he’d finally fallen asleep an hour ago. Maybe two? It didn’t matter. Because he was going to take care of everything right now.

  Pulling on his jeans and a T-shirt, he ran his fingers through his hair and opened the door. The aroma of his favorite breakfast hit him even harder.

  He knew exactly how this was going to go down. He’d walk out there and Agatha would butter him up with food and compliments about how generous he was, and when that didn’t work and he told her that woman was not staying, she’d go straight after the guilt angle.

  Prepping for battle, he sauntered down the hall and into the kitchen.

  “Is there something you forgot to tell me?” He directed the question to his aunt’s back.

  Agatha spun, both hands clad in oven mitts. “Nash! You scared me. You shouldn’t sneak up on a poor old woman like that.”

  Poor old woman his ass. Agatha happened to be the toughest, smartest, most resourceful woman he’d ever reckoned with.

  Also the most trusting and unsuspicious, which is what he needed to talk to her about. “Next time you put a random woman up in my bedroom, I’d like a warning.” He pulled out a stool at the kitchen island and sat facing his aunt.

  “Well, how was I supposed to know you were coming home?” Agatha demanded, flinging up her hands. The oven mitts flew off and landed on the floor. “It’s your own fault, you know. You could’ve called.” She reached for a bowl and started vigorously stirring a fruit salad. “And anyway, Mack is a nice girl.”

  Mack. He hadn’t thought to ask the woman’s name in all the chaos last night.

  “She’s pretty too,” his aunt added, looking at him as though she wanted to make sure he agreed.

  “She was wearing my underwear,” he said instead. Pretty didn’t mean much to him. His mom had been pretty. And just about as unstable as Mack had seemed to be when she’d fallen out of his bed.

  Of course, then she’d acted all proud and brassy when she’d tried to leave, which he had to admit he’d found intriguing, but one problematic fact remained.

  “You don’t know her. At all.” His aunt couldn’t know her. Mack had told him herself that Agatha had picked her up from a gas station that very day. “You can’t bring someone home when you don’t know them. She could be a criminal. If I hadn’t come home, she could’ve robbed you blind.”

  “I do know her,” his aunt insisted stubbornly, dropping the spoon in the fruit bowl. “I have a feeling about her. She’s a good person. I hope you were nice to her last night.”

  The evening’s events played out in his mind again. “It’s hard to be nice when someone is screaming bloody murder.” He stole a strawberry out of the bowl, earning a stern frown from his aunt.

  “Oh, and it’s really hard to be nice to someone when you’re standing there in your underwear because you thought you were all alone in the house.”

  Agatha suddenly turned her back on him, but that wasn’t enough to disguise the hearty chuckle.

  “I almost climbed into bed with her.” He definitely wasn’t laughing, but his aunt let out a full-blown cackle.

  “I’m pretty sure she didn’t think it was funny.” He wasn’t sure what Mack had thought. It was hard to judge from a five-minute conversation.

  “Mack is fine. She’s a tough woman. I’m guessing she can handle seeing a man in his underwear.” His aunt scurried away to set the table.

  Three place settings. Great. This should be a fun breakfast.

  Nash begrudgingly walked over to help. “What do you know about her?” Not enough, that was for damn sure. “How long is she staying?” Likely as long as his aunt wanted her to. “Where is she from? And what’s all this about a wedding dress?”

  He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that last question. The last thing he needed was to get wrapped up in some other family’s drama.

  “She’s from Denver,” his aunt said, happily laying out the silverware. “I don’t know how long she’s staying.” She looked up at him, defiance narrowing her eyes. “But she can be here as long as she’d like. This is my home too and she’s my guest.”

  Nash didn’t point out that Agatha had put up her guest in his bedroom. “As far as the dress…she ran out on her wedding, which is how she ended up at the gas station where I met her.”

  “She ran out on her wedding.” Why wasn’t he surprised? That was just what they needed—some woman hiding from her angry ex-fiancé at their ranch.

  “Well it’s better than marrying the wrong person,” Agatha snipped. “It takes a lot of guts, doing something like that when you know it’s not right.”

  Yeah, guts or cowardice. He didn’t argue, even though the whole running away thing reminded him a little too much of his own mother. Instead of pointing out the similarities, he changed the subject. “The bank called me.”

  Shadows seemed to cross over his aunt’s eyes. She artfully folded a napkin and set it on one of the plates. “Oh?”

  She wasn’t surprised. She had to know he’d find out sooner or later. “You were late paying the mortgage.” He tried to say it gently. “I told you I could take over paying the bills.” To make sure the money got there on time. Timeliness didn’t seem to be a priority for his aunt.

  Stubbornness furrowed her mouth. “I don’t need you to take over the bills.”

  It sure seemed to him like she needed more help than she was letting on. “We can’t afford the late fees.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She waved him off and filled the glasses on the table with fresh-squeezed orange juice.

  “I do worry though.” Could she blame him? He walked around the table and took the pitcher out of her hands. “I worry about you being here more than half the year by yourself with so much to keep up.”

  Agatha turned away from him and marched back to the kitchen. “It’s not that much to keep up. I love the work.”

  Nash finished filling the glasses and then went to stand across the island from her. “Every time I come home there are more animals we have to feed and house and nurse back to health.”

  As much as he didn’t want to hurt Agatha, he had to keep going. This conversation was long overdue. “I think it’s time to simplify.”

  His aunt shook her head at him and smiled. “My life here is simple. I have my land and my animals.” She reached over to pat his cheek. “And I have you.”

  He would not be deterred by flattery. “You also have a lot of bills. We could fix that.”

  Her smile gave way to a concerned frown. “What’d you mean?”

  Nash hesitated. But what other option did they have? “We could sell the land. It’s worth a ton of money.”

  Sure enough, Agatha’s hands went straight to her hips. “Is it worth more than our family’s legacy?” She glared up at him like she wanted to ground him the way she used to when he was younger.

  Legacy? What legacy would that be? His mom taking off and leaving them for a better life? His dad giving up on everything and refusing to live? “I want to make your life easier. I don’t want you to have to worry about money.”

  His aunt shrugged and picked up the plate of flapjacks. “I don’t worry about money.”

  “Right.” That’s why all the concerns sat on his shoulders.

  “Let’s not ruin a good breakfast with talk of money and bills.” She left the flapjacks on the table and hurried back to the kitchen to collect the strawberry syrup. “We can discuss those things later.”

  Judging from her dismissive tone, later would never come. But he wasn’t going to let it go. He couldn’t. Not this time.

  Chapter 6

  If she tied the bedsheets together, she might be able to climb out the window without killing herself.

  Mack peered out, judging the distance to the ground. Probably. Maybe. It wasn’t a two-story house, but it had been built into a hillside, and unfortunately, Nash’s bedroom happened to be on the low sid
e of the hill, which put the ground a little too far out of reach for a fast escape. And where would she go anyway? Agatha still had her car keys.

  Jasper whined next her. Somehow, the dog always seemed to know what she was thinking.

  “Don’t worry buddy.” She patted his soft head. “The only thing worse than walking out there and seeing Nash again would be falling out the window and hurting myself in front of him.” After last night, she didn’t need to make that kind of a scene.

  Besides, breakfast was waiting for her—she could smell it, and she could hear the murmur of Nash and his aunt talking. They were probably discussing the crazy lady who was currently seeking refuge in his bedroom.

  Despite her best efforts to pull herself together, she’d made the wrong impression on him last night. Granted, it had been a shock to see a cowboy standing there in his underwear, but still, she could’ve displayed a little more composure.

  Mack turned away from the window, eyeing the wedding dress laid out over the chair in the corner of the room. “Would it be better to walk out to the dining room wearing that or wearing Nash’s underwear?” she asked the dog.

  Jasper’s ears perked up and he wagged his tail.

  She supposed it didn’t matter all that much since Nash had already seen her wearing the plaid boxer shorts, but still, it felt…weak. Needy. Dependent. All things she was not.

  Sure, she currently seeking asylum at a stranger’s ranch so she could have some space to figure out her life, but that was a brave thing to do, right?

  It took courage to stop settling for the way things had always been. To finally confront the nagging feeling that she was missing something.

  Yes. She was a confident, independent, brave woman, so she would wear her wedding dress out to the dining room, thank Agatha for her kind hospitality, and then be on her way before Nash could judge her again.