Page 37 of Branded Betrayal

“No. No, no, no,” I mutter as water drizzles out of the spout again. I kick the fence, a growl of frustration knotting in my throat.

“You’re up early.”

I choke on a gasp and flip around to see Nash circling the barn with a shovel in his hand. “Well, yeah, there’s a lot to do. What are you doing here?” My eyes widen, and I point to the hay bales. I’d thought it was Blaze’s handiwork. “Oh my God. Did you do that?”

“It was no big deal.” He shrugs. “Thought you might need some help. Folks been talking about how much trouble you’re havin’ out here. I don’t want you asking anyone for help. It should be me doing the work with you. I don’t have work until later today, so I figured I’d stop by.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d want to be here with me. You kind of made that clear.”

“I shoulda been better, Savvie. I’m still pissed as hell at you for leaving me here and at Aunt Marg for fuckin’ me over, but . . .” His lips curl up the tiniest bit. “Let’s face it. You don’t know shit about running this place. And I know everything. So I’ll help out. Between you, me, and the ranch hands, we can take care of things.”

I run over to him and throw my arms around his neck. Not because he said he’d help but because he really does care, and maybe there’s a chance we really can keep the past in the past and move forward without all the festering anger poisoning our already fractured relationship.

He doesn’t hug me back. Not fully. But he also doesn’t pull away, and to me, that’s a definite win.

And once we turn this place around, I’m so happy I’ll be able to hand it over to him. The faster I can make Red Rock profitable, the quicker I can leave Whiskey Creek and escape the clutches of Blaze Hartman.

“I have some news,” I say, then tell him about the land-rental prospects that might just help save Red Rock.

He continues to work, quiet for a long minute. Then, “That’s a good idea, but I don’t think we can handle more cattle right now. Too much needs to be fixed. You shoulda asked first.”

“Well, I think we have a solid team,” I say. “I say we give it a try. No risk, no reward, right? And we don’t have the time to be too cautious. I don’t think we should pass on potential opportunities.”

He slowly lifts his head and tips the brim of his hat, squinting at me. “Yeah, okay.” But his voice has zero trace of enthusiasm.

I put my hand on his arm. “Together, we can make it great again, Nash. I know it.”

His eyes drop to my hand, and when he looks back at me, a flicker of sadness darkens his gaze. It jars me, gone almost as quickly as it came, and he walks toward the pasture.

“Well, howdy, Miss Bea,” he says in that syrupy, smooth voice, nuzzling the area under her neck. The rest of the cattle hear him and wander over. He chuckles and chats with them all as he fills the feed troughs with grain.

My heart clenches. He’s all I have left. I can’t lose him again.

“You know,” he says, glancing at me over his shoulder. “I heard about what happened at the Boot Barn last night.” He shakes his head. “You need to be real careful. Blaze pisses people off, and if you’re standing too close when the shit flies back, it’s gonna take you out.”

“Those guys were just foulmouthed ranch hands. Nothing too scary.”

“Yeah, but Blaze has enemies, Savvie.” Nash’s eyebrows draw tight together. “People from the past who hold grudges. They won’t think twice about hurting someone they think he cares about.”

“Well, then, I wouldn’t worry about me becoming a target.”

“I’m just saying, watch your six.”

My lips quirk up as I fiddle with the water pump spout. It’s nice to hear him being so protective when not too long ago, he made himself out to be my archrival.

I continue struggling with the water pump, examining it from all sides, trying to make sense of how to fix the darned thing. Nash comes up behind me.

“You still having trouble with that pump?” he asks, peering at the spout.

“Yeah. I thought it was fixed the other day . . .” I leave out the part that Blaze was here working on it the other day because that information would probably land like a lead brick.

He moves past me, checking out every piece, including the one I might’ve just cracked with the wrench. A shadow darkens his face. “This problem is bigger than the spout. Someone’s been messing with this. Recently from the looks of it.”

“But who would—?”

He looks up at me, an unspoken warning in his eyes. “Like I said, watch your six.”

Nash’s warning reverberates between my ears as I walk down Main Street toward Brixton’s after finishing up my ranch tasks. I wanted a distraction from all of the inconvenient X-rated thoughts of Blaze that looped through my mind. Now I can’t stop thinking about what he might’ve done to piss off the wrong kind of people . . . and why Nash was so focused on me keeping an eye out.