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Chapter Twelve
Ginger had never been kissed the way Nate kissed her. The level of care he took with her was exquisite, and she wanted to hold onto the moment for as long as possible. He eventually broke the kiss, and only then did Ginger realize how her heart sprinted in her chest.
She pulled in a breath, because her body had been shocked by such an amazing kiss that her involuntary functions had stalled.
“All right,” Nate said quietly, securing his hand in hers again. He started down the road again, walking slowly the way they always did. She went with him, though she still felt a bit numb. She wasn’t sure why, because her skin felt like someone had injected electricity into her cells.
She crackled with every step, a smile curving her mouth and refusing to straighten even when she looked at Nate. He grinned back at her, and Ginger ducked her head again.
“Oh, my hat.” He released her hand and strode back to where she’d dropped it on the ground. She’d meant to hold it for him, but that kiss had literally melted her muscles into marshmallows.
“Sorry,” she said as he came back toward her. “I don’t normally just throw a man’s hat on the ground.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “Thanks for the tip.” He took her hand again, and they continued their walk. When the barn came into sight, he dropped her hand and tucked his in his pocket, the way he’d always done. No one knew they stole away for thirty minutes after she completed her morning chores and before he went out to the bird blinds and fences.
Even if they did, Ginger could simply say she needed privacy to interview Nate for something the BOP wanted. No one had to know anything else.
You won’t be able to keep this secret for long, she thought as Nate tipped his hat at her and went into the equipment shed to get his tools. He’d expressed some frustration with the building aspect of the bird blinds, but when she’d gone out to look at the one he’d completed, it was perfect.
“I rebuilt it four times,” he’d admitted, and Ginger may have started to fall for him then.
Or maybe the slope had become a little slippery when she’d watched him lift Connor above his head and buzz like an airplane as the boy giggled and shrieked with delight. Or when he charmed the children in the riding lessons. Or stood at the window and watched him, Nick, and Spencer load into a pickup truck and go to town for chicken wings and cheese fries.
No matter when it had started, Ginger had definitely started to fall for Nate Mulbury. She’d told herself to go slow, and she’d been pulling on the reins of their relationship for a couple of weeks.
Now that he’d kissed her, Ginger wanted to climb onto the nearest roof and shout the news to the world. Emma would be able to tell something had changed in her, and Ginger decided not to go back to the homestead for lunch like she usually did.
Or maybe she should. If she didn’t show up, Emma would for sure know something was wrong.
Not wrong. Different. Changed.
Ginger just needed something to happen on the ranch. A sick horse. A tourist that had gone off the path. Heck, she’d even take a swarm of locusts.
Okay, maybe not a swarm of locusts. Life at Hope Eternal Ranch was usually fairly quiet, though there were days when she’d texted her friends and told them she wouldn’t be in for lunch. Otherwise, the women in the West Wing gathered for their midday meal.
Before she could turn fully away from the shed where Nate had disappeared, her phone rang. Only a moment later, the siren they used on the ranch filled the air. Cowboys and cowgirls started to spill out of sheds, barns, and stables, and Ginger couldn’t hear her phone ringing anymore.
Spencer’s name sat on the screen, and another call came in over his. Emma.
Ginger’s mind raced, and her heart sprinted, but she swiped away Emma’s call and answered Spencer’s. “Talk to me,” she said, plugging her left ear as she held the phone at her right.
“Accident in field four,” he said, breathless. “I need you here.”
“Did you activate the siren?”
“Yes,” he said. “Someone’s down out here, and I don’t know who. We need a count, and Emma’s calling the paramedics.”
Confusion needled her mind. “She called me.” She took several steps toward the equipment shed. Field four was too far away to run there in a reasonable amount of time. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be there in five.” She hung up and stopped next to the nearest person, who happened to be Jessica Morales, her chief stable master and one of the women who lived in the West Wing.
“Send out the call for a count at the homestead,” Ginger said, her voice demanding and crisp. “Group text. And find out if Emma did call the paramedics. Text me who’s missing and what’s going on with medical assistance.”
Jess didn’t ask any questions; she nodded and got busy on her phone.
Nate met Ginger at the door. “How can I help?”
“Go to the homestead and keep everyone calm,” she said, wishing she was one of those he could comfort. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He let his fingers trail down her arm as she went past, and Ginger appreciated the touch. She threw her leg over the nearest ATV and zoomed out the back of the shed, turning sharply to get going in the right direction toward field four.
