Chapter 24
Magnolia
A knock sounds on the front door, and I finish swirling the creamer into my coffee cup.
I glance at the clock. It’s six a.m. Who on earth would be knocking on the door at this time?
I debate on going to wake up Nash, but he deserves some sleep.
He’s been working hard, and he’s had such an emotional strain. He needs his rest.
When we pulled into the ranch last night, it was like watching him transform into a different person. He was a visual illustration of the phrase ‘sigh of relief.’ We both crashed in bed after we showered. Separately, not together. In the shower or the beds.
Knock, knock, knock.
I leave my coffee on the counter and walk down the hallway to the entry hall.
I still can’t get over the size of the lodge.
When Alexander said ranch house, I pictured a quaint little farmhouse.
Not a veritable mansion. He is the king of understatement.
I unlock the front door and slowly swing it open.
There’s a man standing on the front step, wearing a cowboy hat, jeans, and boots. He looks surprised to see me.
“Who are you?” he says.
“I’m Magnolia. Who are you?”
“I’m Max.” An easy smile spreads across his face.
I have the uncomfortable realization that he’s incredibly good-looking, and it’s not even affecting me because I’m getting so hung up on Nash.
“Oh, yes! You’re Max St. James, the ranch manager, right?” I relax as he nods. “Nash told me about you while we were driving over here.”
No wonder he’s here at this unearthly hour.
“That’s me.” The stranger who’s smiling down at me rocks back on his heels and asks, “Is Nash here?”
Nash is here…but why would this guy be looking for him at this time?
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I thought Nash would be the one to answer the door.”
I swing the door open wider and speak in a hushed tone, “Why don’t you come in? I just made some coffee. Nash is still sleeping. Poor guy is tired.”
Max kicks off his boots on the porch, then steps inside the house. “Poor guy? It’s six in the morning, and he’s still sleeping? Is he sick?”
Why would someone need to be sick to be sleeping at that time?
“Um, no, he’s just had a lot going on,” I try to explain as he follows me into the kitchen.
Max walks past me and grabs a mug out of the cupboard as if he’s done it a thousand times. I guess if he’s worked here a long time, he probably has.
He pours a cup of coffee as he asks, “Did you guys get in late last night?”
“We got here around eleven,” I say as I reach for the coffee I abandoned earlier.
Max takes a sip of straight black coffee. “Oh, thank goodness. You made the coffee, didn’t you?”
“Yes?” It comes out as a question.
Max shakes his head. “Don’t let Nash near a coffeepot if you can help it. His sorry excuse for coffee is as weak as a pot of tea. It’s horrible.” Max shudders and takes another long sip. “Now, this? This is how coffee should be. Thick enough to make your hair stand on end.”
I chuckle as I run a hand through my messy hair. I planned on getting more put together before Nash woke up. Instead, I’m stuck chatting with his very handsome ranch manager in the kitchen.
“Nothing is worth drinking unless there’s good flavor.”
“Amen to that,” Max agrees as he gulps down some more coffee before setting the cup down on the granite countertop with a loud clink. “I’ll be right back.”
He starts through the living room and heads toward the stairs.
I set my cup down and hurry after him, whispering as he climbs those stairs, “Where are you going?”
Max glances over my shoulder and winks. “To wake up Nash, of course.”
My jaw drops at that, and I race up the wood steps as fast as I can.
Max tries to match my pace, but I have the advantage—I’m barefoot, and he’s trying to race in thick socks.
I reach the landing, a solid five stairs in front of him, and streak down the hall to spin around and plant myself in front of Nash’s door.
I grip the doorframe as Max slides to a stop in front of me.
“You can’t go in there!” I whisper furiously.
“Why not?” he asks in a loud voice. “Is he naked or something?”
I glare at him. He’s got a big grin, and he looks like he’d love nothing more than to wake up Nash.
“Be quiet,” I hiss. “He needs his sleep.”
“I need him to come help me with roundup,” he says, his volume increasing with each word.
He must have majored in how to be an absolute pain in college. He’s doing very well in that career.
He steps forward as though he’s going to reach past me and open the door.
“No! Let the guy sleep,” I snap at him.
“You sure baby that man if you’re up and making him coffee first thing in the morning.”
I roll my eyes. “I couldn’t sleep, okay? Otherwise, I would have been upstairs sleeping, too, and not answering the door for people who have zero idea of how a clock operates.”
“Perfect. You can come help with roundup too.” He grins and reaches for the door again.
I karate-chop at his hand, and he yelps.
“No wakey!” I press my back against the door and raise my eyebrows at Max, daring him to try again.
A rush of air meets my back as the door flies open, and I stumble backward. Nash catches me under my arms as I fall back against his chest.
“Oh, look, he is naked,” Max drawls.
“What—” I sputter as I turn my head to the side and realize that my cheek is now pressed against a bare chest. I swallow slowly and turn back to look at Max with wide eyes.
“What is going on here?” Nash asks in a rough, sleepy voice. I can hear his heart beating.
I move to step away from him, so I’m not plastered against his chest like a creep, but he slips an arm around me and presses a large hand flat against my stomach, pulling me back. My breath catches as he simply holds me against him, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
My gaze snaps back to Max. I thought we weren’t going to pretend out here. But maybe he plans on pretending for the ranch manager. I should have thought to ask.
I think playing pretend might be the death of me. Because I like it when Nash holds me.
“Max, why are you menacing Magnolia?”
Max grins at both of us. “I was just trying to wake you up. She wouldn’t let me come in. Said you needed your beauty sleep.”
“I did not say that!” I exclaim. “You were going to wake him up after a late night!”
“And I succeeded too,” Max says with a chuckle.
Nash laughs with him, and I tilt my head back to look at his face. “I’m sorry. I was trying to let you sleep.”
Nash shakes his head. “I heard Max come thundering up the stairs. Good grief. Sounded like a herd of elephants coming for my room.”
I press my lips together at that observation. That means I was one of those elephants he heard thundering up.
“What was so important that you had to show up this early and scare Magnolia?” Nash demands.
Max doesn’t seem put off by the gruff voice as he just crosses his arms over his chest and smiles at both of us. He completely ignores Nash’s question and instead says, “She makes better coffee than you do.”
Nash taps his index finger that’s resting against my stomach. “Is that so?”
I grasp the finger to stop the tapping. I’m ridiculously ticklish, and his mindless tapping might make me scream. I stare down at his hand and the difference in our finger sizes. His are literally three times the size of mine. I didn’t know that was possible. Granted, I have small hands.
Charlie and I are forever lamenting our hand sizes. She claims she has “working man hands” and that mine are half her size.
“I have horses saddled up and ready for roundup today,” Max explains.
“Alexander called you, didn’t he?”
“Sure did. I have three horses ready.”
Nash finally releases me and steps past me into the hall. He’s barefoot, wearing a pair of athletic shorts. He squints at the brighter light. “Why so early?”
“I slept in.”
Nash mutters something under his breath, then turns to me. “Sorry you had to deal with this horrible person, who believes mornings are a great time to get things done.”
“You would love my roommate. She’s always getting up early,” I grumble, referring to Charlie.
Personally, I’m one hundred percent with Nash on this one. Nobody should have to speak to another human before eight a.m. It should be a law.
“Magnolia didn’t come out here to ride horses and get sunburned.”
“She didn’t?”
“No,” Nash confirms. But then he turns to me with a confused expression on his face. “Why did you come with me again?”
I open my mouth to come up with a valid reason, and really, the only thing I can say to explain it is, “Alexander.”
Neither Nash nor Max seem surprised by this.
“We’ll be gone all day, but there’s a home theater here and a library, and you can take the car into town if you want,” Nash explains just as he yawns.
“But I can saddle a horse for her,” Max offers.
“Magnolia’s too smart to want to ride a horse all day.”
I narrow my eyes at his assumption. “Actually, I used to ride horses regularly.”
Once a month at a stable that offered group riding lessons when I was ten, but I don’t need to share that with Nash.
His eyes widen at that, and he nods. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“That’s right,” I mutter.
“I like her. She’s way better than your real fiancée was,” Max comments.
Nash snorts. “You never told me you didn’t like her.”
“You never asked.” Max grins. “Which is why I’m telling you I like Magnolia.”
Two things surprise me in the moment. One, the fact that Max knows we aren’t in a “real” relationship. So, why was Nash being so touchy? There’s no one here to impress, or play pretend for. Yet he’s still being affectionate.
The second surprise is when Nash shakes his head and says, “Magnolia’s a hundred times better. What the heck was I thinking?”
Max shrugs. “Everyone makes bad choices now and then. You just have to learn from them. Let’s go get those cows moved.”
“Let me put some pants on first, and then we’ll find some clothes for our trick-rider here.”
“That’s right,” I fire back. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
I lied. I did not show anyone how it was done.
I cling to the pommel of the saddle as Sally—my horse for the day—faithfully delivers me over every hill, through every valley, across streams, past jackrabbits, and on an adventure.
Sally is the true hero of the day. Every time I squeak in surprise or accidentally tighten my legs, she just remains steady, plodding along after the cows that Nash and Max asked me to follow back to the corrals.
I don’t know anything about herding cattle, but luckily, Sally does, and she keeps them on the trail and delivers all of us safely back to the corral by noon.
The cattle go into the corral without a hitch.
I don’t know if I should close the gate after them or wait and see if Nash and Max are coming.
These cattle don’t seem very tame, so it would make sense to lock them in.
But I’m not sure how to climb off this horse.
And wonderful horse that she is, I don’t think even Sally is capable of locking the gate.
In my moment of indecision, Nash crests the ridge, pushing a group of cows and calves ahead of him.
I pull gently on Sally’s reins, and she shifts us out of the line of sight of the cattle coming toward us. We walk to the shade as Nash comes closer.
It is wildly unfair that the man looks equally good in a suit as he does in a cowboy hat. He grins at me as he approaches. His teeth are extra white against his dusty, dirty face.
“You made it,” he calls as he pulls his horse to a stop and lets the cattle filter into the corral, where they see their friends ahead of them.
“Are we supposed to close the gate on them? Or wait for Max?”
He shakes his head and dismounts from his horse. “We’ll keep an eye out for him, but he might be a while. He gave you and me the easy groups. He’s out with his dogs, gathering the wild ones.”
He leads his horse toward the gate, dropping the reins to the ground and latching it before he turns toward me. “Come on. Let’s grab a drink and make sure the watering trough is working for the pairs.”
I look down at the ground, willing to lift my leg off the horse. My legs don’t listen.
I smile back at Nash. “Okay, sounds great.”
I nudge Sally, and she takes a few steps closer to him.
“Oh, you can get down, and we’ll let the horses rest,” he says as he waves me down.
I just stare at him. Frozen exactly where I am.
He studies me for a moment before a slow smile stretches across his face. “You can’t get down, can you?”
I sputter and try to think of a reason why I cannot climb down. No valid excuses are coming to mind.
“My legs won’t move.”
He pushes his cowboy hat back and grins so big that his dimples are showing. “Exactly how many years has it been since you’ve ridden a horse?”
“Probably about twelve.” More like fifteen.
He chuckles as he steps closer and rests a hand on my thigh. I flinch at the contact, not because he is being rough…but because my legs are already that sore.
He lets out a low whistle. “Poor baby.”
He hums as he grasps the back of my cowboy boot and pulls it free from the stirrup.
He walks to the other side and does the same to the other foot.
“Come here. I’ll lift you down.”
“I don’t think I can move,” I whisper.
“Just lean toward me. I’ll catch you.”
“Promise?”
He grins. “Pinkie promise.”
I reach out for his outstretched hands and tip my entire body toward him—because goodness knows my legs aren’t going to help me at all.
Nash catches me without so much as a grunt.