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Nash sighed, meeting her halfway. “He doesn’t . . .”
Her smile was warm, extending to both him and Ricky. “Listen?”
Again, Nash sighed. “You’re right. He’s all me.”
Megan laughed softly and placed a kiss on
Nash’s lips before taking Ricky into her arms. “Beckett needs you.”
“Yeah, all right.” Nash tickled Ricky until he burst out laughing. “The creek is bad news, buddy. Off limits. That’s what the pool is for, and only when we’re with you.”
“Bad. Bad. Bad,” Ricky quipped.
Warmth filled Nash as he watched Megan stride away toward Emma and Harper, who sat in chairs in front of the porch, their feet in Ricky’s kiddie pool. They both had been suffering over the last month. Emma was eight months’ pregnant and Harper was six, and there had been no break in the heat.
Nash glanced down at Gus, giving him a pat. “Owe you for that one. Good boy.”
Gus panted with his tongue wagging out.
When Nash strode toward the sand ring, Gus ran into the kiddie pool, splashing the women, where Houdini also lay, surviving the heat.
“Gus,” Megan yelled.
Emma and Harper screamed.
Ricky laughed, splashing in the water too.
Nash chuckled and strode past the cat house. Not that the cats used it anymore. While Nash thought the cats were better off at the guest ranch, he’d ended up missing the little fluffballs since he wasn’t at the ranch much anymore. To fix that, he brought them all home. Now, the cats lounged around his farm with Nash during the day and came in the house at night. Gus seemed the happiest about that.
The sun blasted down on Nash’s shoulders as he headed for the sand ring across from the driveway. Chase had kept to his word, and they had been able to afford the build on the new two-story log house with three bedrooms, and the barn off to the left side. They’d run out of money after they bought the fencing for the paddocks and sand ring. Every single person that Nash knew came out to help install the fencing after Shep put some calls out. And they even got the ground in the sand ring ready for work.
Now Blackshaw Training was into its second month of operation. It had come as a total surprise to Nash that he’d gotten busy enough in the first month that hiring Beckett and Hayes had been possible.
As he glanced back over his shoulder at his mother sitting on the porch with Loretta, Clay, and Clint—who had upheld his deal and made the necessary payments—Nash knew that without his mother, none of this would have happened. She had been right—people trusted Nash with their horses. He’d had everything come in from horses that needed breaking to green horses to horses with trust issues to horses with simply bad attitudes.
He looked forward again and crossed over the driveway, spotting the problem instantly. Beckett was running for his life out of the sand ring with the black gelding chasing him, ears pinned back to his head.
Chase, Hayes, and Shep stood at the fence, laughing their assess off.
“Fuuuuuuck,” Beckett roared, throwing himself under the fence and rolling away until he hit Nash’s boot.
Nash looked down and arched an eyebrow. “All right?”
“That is a devil horse,” Beckett said.
Nash chuckled. Everyone played a role at the training facility. Beckett had a talent with breaking young horses. They trusted him in ways Nash had never seen. Hayes did incredible things for horses with bad attitudes—probably because Hayes had a bad attitude himself. But Nash, his gifts were with the horses who had lost their way.
“Emma once called Bentley a devil horse,” Shep said. “Now look at him.”
“Yeah, well, then, Nash, that horse is all yours,” Beckett said, jumping to his feet and handing Nash the rope. “You pay me well, buddy, but not nearly enough to deal with that crazy shit.”
Nash took the rope. He glanced over his shoulder at Megan. Today was his day off.
“We’re fine,” she called, giving him a wave. “Do what you need to do.”
When Nash looked at the horse again, he found him in the corner, drenched with sweat. Nash couldn’t leave him like this. If he did, they’d get nowhere. Beckett had only started working with him today. The first day was the most important day of all.
To relax his energy, Nash blew out a long breath, then slid under the fence. His brothers started whistling “Amazing Grace.” The song they’d heard at every funeral growing up. Nash flipped them the bird, garnering laughter, but stayed focused on the horse. Dark frightened eyes held his as he strode into the center of the ring and waited. And waited. And waited.
