Don’t go to the mall, ran through his mind, and Nate’s smile slipped. “Sure I can,” he said, wishing he had an older brother to call. Ward would know what to do with skinned knees on four-year-old boys—and what to do about the money drop this weekend.
He stepped over to a first aid box attached to the wall and pulled it down. “It’ll be quick, and then you can help me with the horses for the riding lessons.”
“Can I?” Connor’s voice held so much hope, and Nate didn’t want to tell him no.
So he said, “Yep. You’ll have to stay right by my side.”
“I can, Uncle Nate.”
He smiled at Connor as he quickly cleaned his knees and then put two Band-Aids over the bloodiest parts. “All done.”
Connor looked at him like Nate held the world in the palm of his hand, and the whole sky got brighter for just that one moment.
“Hey, little man,” Nick said as he entered the stable. “You helpin’ with the horses today?”
“Sure am,” Connor said, made of smiles now. Nate helped him down, and he ran over to Nick, who picked him up and swung him around, both of them laughing.
Nate smiled too, because Connor was happy again. As he watched Nick set Connor down and take his hand, all the while talking about a horse named Willowwood, Nate wondered if maybe he could have the other cowboy make his drop for him this weekend…
He’s Ginger’s cousin, Nate told himself. And then Ginger lodged herself in his mind, and Nate started working on the words he needed to apologize to her. A whole new kind of sigh moved through his body, but he needed Ginger on his side. So he’d swallow his pride and make sure he got back on the same page with the woman he wanted to spend more time with. Go to dinner with.
Maybe even kiss…
Chapter Ten
Ginger hovered out of sight while Nate got the kids in line and took them around the stables. He really was great with them, and it seemed like every person he came in contact with fell under his charm.
Herself included.
She frowned and ducked deeper into the shadows, the scent of hay and hooves filling her nose. She loved the smell of the horses and the saddles, and she reached out and ran her fingertips down the stable doors.
They used every available horse and saddle for their riding lessons, which left the stable empty enough to hold her thoughts.
She didn’t think Nate was being disingenuous. He didn’t seem to know how to be anybody or anything but himself, and that only made him more endearing.
Sighing, Ginger sank onto a chair outside a stall, her mind flowing back over the situation from that morning. She hadn’t meant to snap at him, though she definitely had. Martin Landy had been late, and that alone had annoyed Ginger. Then she hadn’t been able to get in touch with Nate, and he wasn’t in the stables, or the barn, or with the chickens.
Martin’s eyebrows had gotten higher and higher and higher, and Ginger’s embarrassment had too. By the time she’d seen Nate standing out in the fields beyond the coops, she was ready to go nuclear.
He hadn’t taken it well, but he had taken it.
It’s a lot of work, and Ginger expects you to know it all already.
Nate’s words filled her ears, and she wished she could shake them out. She’d been trying for hours, and yet, they still lingered, vibrating against her drums and consuming her mind. He’d said something after that, but it was all a blur. All she could hear was that he thought she was demanding.
He’d said so right to her face.
“Well, maybe you are,” she muttered, and she knew there was no maybe about it. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, outside an empty horse stall, but it was long enough for all the kids to mount their horses and leave the area.
Long enough for Nate to come walking toward her, leading a horse with a simple rope around its neck. “Hey,” he said, his eyes glued to hers. “What’re you doing in here?”
“Nothing.” Ginger sounded miserable about it too. She was miserable at the moment. She studied her hands while he opened a stall a couple down from her and across the aisle. “Look, I need to apologize for this morning.”
“I do too,” Nate said, leading the horse inside her stall. He came back out and closed the bottom half of the door. “I shouldn’t have said you were demanding.”
“No,” Ginger said. “I am demanding.”
Nate kicked a grin in her direction. “Yeah, you kind of are.” He came toward her, but there was no other chair for him to sit down in. He crouched in front of her, his head down so she could only see the top of his cowboy hat. “But I get why you are. Really, I do, and I was just being cruel.” He looked up, and he was easily the best-looking man in the state with those striking blue eyes. “And I don’t like being cruel. So I’m sorry.”
Ginger’s chest vibrated, and she felt one breath away from crying. She told herself not to do it, because then she’d be embarrassed—again. She nodded instead, drawing in a slow, deep breath. “I’m sorry too. Of course I trust you. I just couldn’t find you, and by the time I did, I was embarrassed and frustrated, and well, you took the brunt of that.” She looked back at her hands, because his gaze was simply too much for her to hold.
She played with her fingers, letting them go round and round each other. Then, Nate put his hand over both of hers, stilling her fingers. Stilling her heart. Stilling everything.
Someone had pressed pause on her life, because it all just came to a halt. She looked at him, and he looked at her, and things were…okay.
He twisted and sat down on the ground beside her chair, a groan coming out of his mouth. His hand returned, taking hers this time and lining his fingers up so they fit right in between hers.
A sigh moved through her whole soul, and while Ginger couldn’t believe she was currently sitting in the stable, holding hands with an ex-con, it felt like exactly the right thing to be doing.
She slipped off the chair to the ground too, glad she demanded her cowboys keep the cement swept clean, and sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Nate. He said nothing, and Ginger simply leaned her head against his bicep, the moment sweet and tender between them.
Ginger never slowed down like this during the day. Once she got back to the West Wing, sure. But not out in the stables. Not when there was so much work to be done. Somewhere on the ranch, a dog barked, but it wasn’t Ursula. Spencer had taken the German shepherd and Connor back to the house once Nate had started the lessons.
“Is Connor okay?” she asked. She’d seen Band-Aids on his knees.
“Yeah, he just fell on his bike.” Nate’s deep voice tickled in her ears as he hardly spoke loud enough for her to hear. “He’ll be okay.”
“Will we be okay?” Ginger asked, surprised at her own boldness.
“Yeah,” Nate said, lifting her knuckles to his lips. “I think we’ll be okay too.”
A smile slipped across Ginger’s face, and she closed her eyes for a moment. Or maybe a few minutes. It wasn’t until Nate said, “Ginger, I have to tell you something,” that she even realized she’d drifted off.
“All right.” She yawned, suddenly knowing why she didn’t allow herself to slow down like this during the day. She’d fall asleep, and then it would be terribly difficult to get back to work.