Chapter 25
Nash
Magnolia has not had as much experience with horses as she led me to believe. I’d wager she hasn’t so much as looked at a horse since she was a child.
But she did it. She survived her first day of roundup.
Except today was the easy day. We gathered everything in the front piece, and now Max and I will ride some of the leased Bureau of Land Management, or more commonly referred to as BLM ground, working to push the yearlings into our irrigated pasture.
Now that the alfalfa fields have all been cut and baled, we’ll be moving the pairs to the fresh feed until we wean the calves. This is the stuff that I love.
Someday, I’m going to get back to ranching full-time. It’s what I grew up doing, and it feels like home. Although I’m loving the variety that working with my grandpa has given me. But I think I’ll always feel nostalgic about ranching because of the connection with my dad.
I glance at Magnolia, who’s lying on the ground, looking like a starfish.
This probably isn’t a life she could see herself living.
And I’m not sure why that even matters to me.
She doesn’t have to enjoy ranching. It has no bearing on anything.
Once Grandpa is feeling better, then we’re going to go our separate ways.
“Why did you agree to come out here and help?” I ask.
She cracks open one eye and looks at me. “Because I have this horrible condition where if someone tells me I don’t want to do something, then I have to prove them wrong.”
I nudge her foot with mine. “And how’s that working out for you?”
“Great. I’ve never felt better. Come check on me in three days and see if I can walk by then.”
She flings an arm across her eyes, and I just grin. She really is something. And I have to admit the truth—I like her.
A dog barking catches my attention, and I watch as Max and both of his dogs start down the dirt road, trailing after fourteen more pairs.
Magnolia lifts her head and stares at the group coming down the hill. “I’m going to have to move, aren’t I?”
I bend down and grab both of her hands, pulling her up to a sitting position. She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Help me,” she groans. “Nothing is working the way it should.”
I scoop an arm under her legs and lift her into my arms.
She laughs. “I meant help me stand, not that you had to carry me.”
“With how fast those cattle are coming down the hill, I know we don’t have an hour to hobble out of the way,” I tease.
“Hey, I’m a very fast turtle, I’ll have you know.”
“A very cute one too.”
She blushes at that and tries hard to scowl at me.
“Careful. Your face might get stuck that way.” I carry her to the side of the barn where there’s a good bit of shade and set her down there.
“How are you not stiff like me?”
I shrug. “I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I come up here regularly to help with different projects, like moving cattle, weaning, and marking calves. Anything that requires an extra person, I’m here to help Max.”
“I never realized. I didn’t even know you had a ranch until Alexander said something. And he said something about wanting to live here?”
“It’s not like we’ve known each other long,” I remind her. “I did live here until Grandpa’s health declined. I plan on coming back. My whole life is here. Heck, I even left my truck here. I’ve been borrowing Grandpa’s car while I’m in town.”
She nods once. “That is strange. So much we don’t know about each other. A lot has happened in a short time. We are about to get married, after all.”
“I guess we should talk about how many kids we want to have before we tie the knot.”
“At least two and a half.”
“Well, I was thinking more like three whole children,” I murmur quietly as I step back into the shade.
Max is coming closer with those pairs, and he won’t need our help walking them in—the dogs will do that.
“What are we going to name our hypothetical children?”
“Molly, Polly, and Dolly.”
“Of course. Three unique names that won’t confuse anyone.” She glares at me like this is serious business. “I can see I’ll have to be the one to name them.”
“Have you always wanted children?” I ask as Max climbs off his horse, shutting the gate behind the cattle.
Magnolia stands slowly, pressing a hand against the side of the barn to steady herself. “I have. Honestly, someday, I could see myself having a lot of kids.”
“How many kids are in your family? Your mom listed so many names it was hard to tell,” I admit with a laugh. The day I met her mom on the video call will be a core memory for years to come. Magnolia was so annoyed and her mom thought it was so funny.
“I have four younger siblings. Oakley is twenty-two, Linden is nineteen, Hollis is fifteen, and Rowan is ten, almost eleven. We all have a lot of fun together, too.”
“Wow. Everyone else I’ve met who comes from a big family seems not to want to repeat it.”
Magnolia keeps her attention on Max as he slowly makes his way toward us, pushing the cows in front of him.
“My parents were very involved. They didn’t subscribe to the parenting style of having older kids raise younger ones.
Mom and Dad were rock stars, honestly. Looking back now as an adult, I see how much time and energy they put into making sure we had everything we needed.
They always made each of us feel like the most loved kid in the world. ”
“That’s really great.” And I mean it.
I’m an only child, so I don’t have anything to compare it to, but I grew up around several big families. Some of them seemed like Magnolia’s family. Loving, happy, boisterous, and fun.
But then there were others who straight-up neglected their children, trying to make it a cute trend by saying they were raising “feral” children.
I’ve never thought about how many kids I want, but I know I want to be the best dad I can be. No feral children, just loved ones.
“Earth to Nash,” Magnolia says as she waves a hand in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry, lost in thought, I guess.”
The cattle walk into the corral without a fuss, and Max’s dogs come barreling toward us.
“Meet Jim and Larry.”
Magnolia laughs as she bends down to pat their heads. “Such people-y names.”
“They’re better employees than most people,” I admit as I scratch behind Jim’s ears, my fingers brushing against Magnolia’s in the process.
“Somebody smells a little skunky.” Magnolia sniffs.
“They’re great dogs, not clean dogs,” Max calls from where he’s dismounting from his horse.
“I’d never accuse them of being that,” Magnolia says as Larry jumps up, planting two dirty paws on her pale blue shirt.
“I have everything set up in the processing shed,” Max says.
“Magnolia, we’re going to be a while. You’re welcome to take my car into town,” I tell her.
“You still have work to do, don’t you?” She walks over to the corral and climbs onto the first rung.
I look at Max and drag a finger across my neck. Magnolia is tired. I’m not going to pressure her into working cattle with us all afternoon.
Max ignores my very clear gesture. “We need you. We can’t do this without three people.”
“That’s a lie,” I shoot back.
Magnolia climbs down from the cattle panel. “I’ll help. What should I do?”
“You can push up calves and put in the fly tags.”
“I’ll be the best employee you’ve ever had, just wait and see.” She grins.
Turns out, she’s right. For the rest of the day, she jumps into doing things she’s never done before. She cracks jokes, curses the gate that she pinched her hand in, and claims to be a natural-born cowgirl.
I think she’s one of a kind, and I’m falling head over heels for her.