Read Online Rough Road Home (The Circle D series) by Audra Harders - Free Book Online
Authors: Audra Harders
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life.
CHAPTER SIX
A tiny flame flickered alive as Rachel chucked another log into the stove. Her hands trembled at the dubious situation she’d gotten them into rather than the temperature of the apartment. When had normalcy abandoned her? She’d never appreciated her neat, orderly dilemmas until fragmented disasters took over her life.
Uncle Mitch had made the trip sound so simple: pick up an injured cowboy and drive him to Casper, Wyoming. Ever since she’d agreed to the task, nothing had gone right. Oh, Lord, I’m losing my grip.
No flash of light, no heavenly chorus sounded to reassure her that God understood her frustration. Nothing. She tossed in the final chunk of wood, latched the screen and dusted off her hands. With a tired sigh, she stood and faced him.
“Hmm, the fire feels good.” For the first time since she’d met Nick Davidson, she grappled for conversation. “It’s not much of a flame yet, but it’s got potential.”
“It’s fine.” Nick sank into the corner of the loose cushioned couch, his long legs stretched beyond the plank pine coffee table. “At least there’s a big woodpile.”
“All part of gracious hospitality, I suppose.” She shrugged out of her jacket and swung it across the back of a swivel chair at the breakfast counter. She’d concentrated on the road for the past few hours, not the surly cowboy in the passenger seat beside her. Without the truck cab and steering wheel to divert her, she had to face the fact he was one good-looking cowboy.
Nick stretched his arms out to either side, his white shirt fairly glowing against the dark purple upholstery. Even with his sleeves down and cuffed, the strength of his muscles gave evidence of a hard working man. He tipped his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes, his brows bunched in response to the probable pain in his head.
Rachel tore her gaze away, not wanting to fall prey to the utter vulnerability her cowboy seemed incapable of disguising. She didn’t know which needed less fuel--the fire or her imagination. The apartment closed in around them changing comfortable accommodations into intimate ambiance. Not good. That whole “keeping life in perspective” idea was floating away from her again. She lowered her lids, tilted her chin and recounted the reasons why she was spending time with Nick. Chauffeur, nursemaid, travel buddy. That’s it. No attraction allowed in this story. Never lower your guard around a cowboy, especially the good looking ones. Road stories came in every size and flavor, and no way did she ever plan to become a statistic.
I need help here, Lord. She opened her eyes and turned toward the window. The glow from the yard light reminded her that they were at the back apartment of a lodge. That’s what they needed-–other people and diverting conversation over a hot meal.
“Hungry?” she asked, hope rising in her heart.
“Not particularly.”
Her stomach growled at the thought of snacks as simple as potato chips. “Jake offered the kitchen if we wanted anything. Dottie won’t cook anything special for us, but we can poke around at the leftovers.”
Nothing.
Rachel chose to take his silence for refusal. Her outlook brightened. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, she grabbed her jacket and made tracks toward the door. An opportunity for space just opened and she planned to grab it, Nick could fend for himself. “Well, okay then. You make yourself comfortable while I run around to the front of the lodge. I’ll make a couple of sandwiches and be back in a flash.”
Nick lifted his head and peered at her. By the warm glow of the overhead light, the swollen contours of his face took on a hideous appearance. The bruise across his cheek darkened as muscles bunched in his jaw. She knew that look. Nick wore it better than most cowboys. Her shoulders tensed in silent warning for her to turn and walk away without
CHAPTER SIX
A tiny flame flickered alive as Rachel chucked another log into the stove. Her hands trembled at the dubious situation she’d gotten them into rather than the temperature of the apartment. When had normalcy abandoned her? She’d never appreciated her neat, orderly dilemmas until fragmented disasters took over her life.
Uncle Mitch had made the trip sound so simple: pick up an injured cowboy and drive him to Casper, Wyoming. Ever since she’d agreed to the task, nothing had gone right. Oh, Lord, I’m losing my grip.
No flash of light, no heavenly chorus sounded to reassure her that God understood her frustration. Nothing. She tossed in the final chunk of wood, latched the screen and dusted off her hands. With a tired sigh, she stood and faced him.
“Hmm, the fire feels good.” For the first time since she’d met Nick Davidson, she grappled for conversation. “It’s not much of a flame yet, but it’s got potential.”
“It’s fine.” Nick sank into the corner of the loose cushioned couch, his long legs stretched beyond the plank pine coffee table. “At least there’s a big woodpile.”
“All part of gracious hospitality, I suppose.” She shrugged out of her jacket and swung it across the back of a swivel chair at the breakfast counter. She’d concentrated on the road for the past few hours, not the surly cowboy in the passenger seat beside her. Without the truck cab and steering wheel to divert her, she had to face the fact he was one good-looking cowboy.
Nick stretched his arms out to either side, his white shirt fairly glowing against the dark purple upholstery. Even with his sleeves down and cuffed, the strength of his muscles gave evidence of a hard working man. He tipped his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes, his brows bunched in response to the probable pain in his head.
Rachel tore her gaze away, not wanting to fall prey to the utter vulnerability her cowboy seemed incapable of disguising. She didn’t know which needed less fuel--the fire or her imagination. The apartment closed in around them changing comfortable accommodations into intimate ambiance. Not good. That whole “keeping life in perspective” idea was floating away from her again. She lowered her lids, tilted her chin and recounted the reasons why she was spending time with Nick. Chauffeur, nursemaid, travel buddy. That’s it. No attraction allowed in this story. Never lower your guard around a cowboy, especially the good looking ones. Road stories came in every size and flavor, and no way did she ever plan to become a statistic.
I need help here, Lord. She opened her eyes and turned toward the window. The glow from the yard light reminded her that they were at the back apartment of a lodge. That’s what they needed-–other people and diverting conversation over a hot meal.
“Hungry?” she asked, hope rising in her heart.
“Not particularly.”
Her stomach growled at the thought of snacks as simple as potato chips. “Jake offered the kitchen if we wanted anything. Dottie won’t cook anything special for us, but we can poke around at the leftovers.”
Nothing.
Rachel chose to take his silence for refusal. Her outlook brightened. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, she grabbed her jacket and made tracks toward the door. An opportunity for space just opened and she planned to grab it, Nick could fend for himself. “Well, okay then. You make yourself comfortable while I run around to the front of the lodge. I’ll make a couple of sandwiches and be back in a flash.”
Nick lifted his head and peered at her. By the warm glow of the overhead light, the swollen contours of his face took on a hideous appearance. The bruise across his cheek darkened as muscles bunched in his jaw. She knew that look. Nick wore it better than most cowboys. Her shoulders tensed in silent warning for her to turn and walk away without
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