12. Nash
CHAPTER 12
NASH
H ow do you thank someone for something huge? Something so big that it was life-changing? Because Nash was realizing that saying, “Hey, thanks for maybe saving my home,” wasn’t really going to cut it. Meg had blown in here and turned everything upside down, and it had been exactly what Nash had needed. And thanks wasn’t going to cut it when it wasn’t just the property that had a fighting chance now.
He had hope again. Not about anything specific, really, just a general feeling about the world. It wasn’t all doom and gloom. There was still goodness here.
The most unbelievable part of these past few weeks wasn’t even the revival of the farm or the revival of any sense of hope. It was that their friendship was alive again. He had long ago accepted that he was going to regret losing Meg until the day he died, but now here she was, putting on her boots on the porch steps to go check over all the animals. She’d smiled at him as she walked out the door. They’d laughed together. Nash couldn’t even remember the last time he’d laughed like that.
It was an insight into a different world, one where she had never left Fordswell, where they had never parted ways.
She needed to go , he scolded himself. She needed to spread her wings. You can’t regret all of that because it made you feel lonely.
It was hard to keep track of what he was feeling right now. There were too many emotions, and they were all too confusing. So Nash just tried to be happy that he was, well, happy. He tried to be happy that there was goodness back in the world again, and it was all thanks to Meg, even though she owed him nothing.
So the question remained… How do you thank someone for that sort of thing?
Buying her something wasn’t going to work. Meg had never, and still didn’t, care much about possessions. And going out somewhere in Fordswell wasn’t the most appealing thought when the options were limited to the diner and some fast-food places. But maybe he could take her out while not technically going anywhere? Picnics were nice, right? Women liked picnics kind of as a rule, right ? He hoped that was right because otherwise, he was fresh out of ideas.
Nash launched his operation, hoping that his best was going to be good enough…
While Meg was off walking around the property, checking on the animals, he took the opportunity to throw a bunch of things in the truck. A blanket, because that was the most basic requirement for a picnic, right? He didn’t have one of those old-fashioned wicker baskets, so he put a bunch of plastic food containers inside a tote bag from the supermarket. It would have to do. The food wasn’t going to be five stars, but it was going to be good ; Nash could guarantee that, at least. There was potato salad in one tub, some packets of potato chips, bread and other fixings to make sandwiches. If he made them now, they’d just get soggy. He threw a handful of cutlery into the bag as well, and into the truck it went. Drinks… they would need drinks, so he grabbed some of those too.
Meg was still off somewhere. Somehow she managed to disappear like a ghost whenever she wandered off. Right now Nash used it to his advantage to drive the supplies he’d gathered to the treehouse and set things up. Now the hardest part would be keeping it a surprise.
Meg had barely sat down on the porch steps to pull off her boots when Nash busted out the front door.
“Wanna go for a ride?”
Ambushing Meg wasn’t exactly the best strategy, but he was excited and couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t nervous, definitely not nervous. Excited. That was all.
“Uh, where to?”
“Around.”
“Just around?”
“Sure.”
Meg raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Nash asked, refusing to fidget. He only fidgeted when he was nervous, and he definitely wasn’t nervous.
“Yeah, okay…”
Meg pulled her boot back on and stood up. “All right, then. I guess I’m riding Nickel?”
“Sounds good,” Nash said, striding off to the stables before he could chicken out of the whole thing.
They saddled up the horses, Meg throwing him suspicious glances the whole time, and set off through the fields. The sun was just starting to dip into afternoon light, making everything look soft and golden.
“Where are we going, exactly?” she asked once they were riding.
“It’s a surprise,” he said.
She only looked more suspicious at that. “Why?”
“Can’t I organize something fun?”
“I guess you can. It’s just the why part I’m hung up on.”
“We’ve been working our butts off,” he said, which was true. “We can take a little time to unwind.”
“I mean, sure…” She was clearly still waiting for some sort of trap to spring.
“Will you just come on? You don’t like fun things all of a sudden?”
“I’m concerned, that’s all.”
“About what ?”
“You’re not exactly spontaneous these days, you know?”
“I’m spontaneous. I’m plenty spontaneous. I’m being spontaneous now.”
She just smirked at him, swaying a little as Nickel walked along.
“What’s the grin for?” he asked, not caring if he sounded huffy.
“I’m just glad you sound a little bit like yourself again,” she said. “That’s all.”
It was that obvious, huh? How much she’d made a difference in the last couple weeks? Not just a difference to the ranch but to him as well. He felt like he’d been sleepwalking for the last few years, and now he was finally awake.
Instead of trying to think of something to say, Nash pushed Gadget into a canter, forcing Meg to keep up behind them. At least at a canter it was too hard to keep a conversation going, which meant fewer opportunities for him to make an ass of himself.
Soon enough, they came to the treehouse. He was still worried that this was all stupid, that he should have just said thank you like a normal person. But Nash peeked over his shoulder and saw Meg’s face light up in a grin.
“You should have just said that we were coming here,” she said, dismounting from Nickel and hitching him to a low-hanging branch.
“It wouldn’t be a surprise then, would it?”
“True.”
“Come on,” Nash said, his nerves still making him jittery. “The surprise is inside.”
Meg looked up at the rope ladder curiously, no longer so hesitant. Almost like she trusted him…
He climbed ahead of her to help pull her up. Nash watched Meg’s face carefully as she looked around at his pitiful excuse for a picnic. It looked pretty sad and slapdash now that he was looking at it with fresh eyes. But Meg, against all odds, was smiling.
“What’s all this for?” she asked, looking through the supermarket bags at the snacks Nash had packed.
“A thank you, I guess. For thinking of renovating the buildings on the hill, then actually helping to make it a reality. I don’t know if it will work. It still might not. But I appreciate the effort, you know…”
Nash drifted off, aware that he was rambling. But the smile she was giving him… God, she was just so pretty.
“Well,” she said, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. “This is great. Thank you.”
He sat down opposite her, thrilled that she seemed to like it. It was a buzz just to see her wearing that pretty smile. He pulled the sandwich fixings and potato chips out of the bag and set them out, Meg’s face growing brighter.
Nash started to feel a little embarrassed again when it came to the drinks.
“Yeah, well… I don’t actually own a cooler, so…”
He handed her a lukewarm can of soda, but she took it anyway and cracked it open. It was good to know that the lack of a cooler wasn’t going to ruin everything, then.
“What sort of rancher are you? Never met a farming man that doesn’t own a cooler.”
“I’m still relatively new to this whole business,” he said, sipping from his own warm can.
“Ah-huh,” she smirked. “Well, maybe if this whole endeavor works out, I’ll get you a cooler. As like a celebration or something.”
Would she still be in his life? After this plan either succeeded or whether it failed… would Meg still be a part of it all? Nash didn’t dare hope that much.
“I don’t want you getting in trouble from your bosses,” he said. “So don’t go throwing your lot in with me if it’s going to blow up this life you built.”
She gave him a look, and before she could just brush it off, he jumped in with a rambled explanation.
“I just don’t want you getting in trouble at work, I guess. I hadn’t thought about that until now, which was selfish…”
All he wanted was to be the opposite of selfish when it came to Meg, at least. But somehow it always kept backfiring. She just shook her head.
“I can make my own decisions, Nash,” she said. “You didn’t force me into this. What? You regret it all of a sudden?”
Never.
“No. I don’t regret you coming here, not that. I’m so grateful for that. Just, the thought that I might actually get to keep this place if this works out…” He was choked up and couldn’t say more.
“I can just give them a negative report,” Meg said, taking a sip of her warm soda. “I meant it when I said that before. I’ll tell them it’s not worth buying. Tell them it’s a floodplain or something. That’ll make them back off. If that’s what you still want?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “That’s what I want. I just didn’t think there was ever going to be a way to fix this.”
“Well, you’re lucky I came along then, aren’t you?” Meg said smugly.
“Yes,” Nash said again, with even less hesitation. “Yes, I am.”
The cheeky grin fell off her face as she stared back at him. She had been joking, but Nash hadn’t been. Not one bit. He’d never been more serious in his life. The silence dragged on because apparently Meg had no idea how to respond to that, other than take another sip of her drink and avoid eye contact. Meanwhile Nash was hyperaware of how close they were sitting, their knees just a couple inches from brushing against each other. He could so easily reach out and brush loose strands of hair off of Meg’s freckled shoulder.
She cleared her throat and set her drink aside, folding her hands in her lap. Were her cheeks growing pink or was he just imagining it?
“Nash…” she said. “I’m glad I came here.”
It was a simple thing to say, and for anyone listening in on their conversation, it might not seem like a big deal at all. But Nash’s heart soared. There were so many unsaid things packed up in that one little sentence.
Meg was fidgeting with her fingers in her lap and Nash reached out and held them in his own, stilling them. Meg didn’t pull her hand away. She didn’t look away from him either. Meg was sitting very still, like she was waiting for something, and her cheeks really were pink. Nash could drop her hand, go back to making dumb jokes and drinking warm soda. He could stick to the safe option in all of this. But a decade’s worth of longing and regret flashed through him like a lightning strike. Screw safety. He wasn’t going to let this chance escape him, not this time.
He moved forward, his other hand cupping the back of Meg’s head, and he pressed his lips to hers.
It was a gentle kiss, soft and sweet and unsure. But pretty soon, with Meg rising up to meet him, it was no longer so gentle, and Nash lost himself completely in the moment.
It felt like coming home.