Read Online Rough Road Home (The Circle D series) by Audra Harders - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Audra Harders
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saying a word.
She heard a muffled groan as he leaned forward. “You can’t go alone.”
“Why not?”
“You just can’t,” he said indicating that was explanation enough.
Rachel felt her hackles rise. Men, especially cowboys, never gave women credit. She’d spent hours around hunters, fishermen, lumberjacks, you name it, and none of them ever made her feel inferior. But, ten seconds with a bull rider. . .. “You’re not in any shape to come with me. Look, you’ll feel better after you’ve eaten, then you can take another pill. Head hurt?”
“Not much.”
At the raw edge to his voice, Rachel draped her jacket back over the chair and moved closer to the couch. The low wattage bulb offered dim lighting at best, but enough to see his complexion had paled considerably. “Open your eyes wide.”
“Not this again,” he groaned and leaned back into the cushion.
Despite his attitude, Rachel couldn’t help but smile. She sat beside him and brushed his thick blond hair out of his eyes so she could see better, the ragged strands curled around her fingers. Her smile faded at the unexpected jolt that resonated through her. She lifted her hand from his face and shifted in her seat. The well-stuffed cushion offered little room for her to sit and Nick apparently wasn’t about to move over. The last thing she wanted to do was to touch him again, but she had no choice. Bracing her hand on his shoulder for support, she tipped his jaw toward her. Clearing her throat, she summoned her best air of confidence. “Nurse Ratchet at your service. Now, lids open wide, or I’ll pry ‘em apart.”
He sat still for a moment, then looked at her through slits.
“You can do better than that.” A dimple appeared in his cheek belying the gruff retort.
She made a gesture of opening his lids. “Nick, I’ll run to the truck and get a flashlight. . ..”
“Nooo,” he moaned and lifted his bruised lids as open as possible.
Rachel peered into blue-gray eyes that returned the perusal just as intently. His pupils looked a bit enlarged, but the room was shadowed making it hard to distinguish whether the size stemmed from concussion or lack of light. The close proximity brought a whole new set of problems to light. His clean scent mingled with cinnamon and spice, wrapping her in a blanket of fresh and pure. The muscles of his shoulder moved beneath her hand making her palm tingle. He continued to stare back at her. She wanted to lean into that power for just a moment and let life fend for itself.
Rachel pulled away and lowered her hand to her lap. Nick exuded confidence and stability, common qualities in the men she chose as friends. Only the rugged, masculine air surrounding Nick cranked the persona up to the highest degree.
He reached out and covered her hand with his own. “You can’t go out alone,” his voice low and no-nonsense. “Give me a minute and I’ll go with you.”
Tension whipped across her shoulders and squeezed the muscles of her back at the presumptive statement. Same ol’ song and dance, my friend, as the old saying went. “So, who made you my keeper?”
Grabbing her jacket again, she stopped at the door, but couldn’t make her hand reach for the knob. What was happening here? For the briefest of moments, she’d dropped her guard and relished a connection. Thankfully, he’d spoken and broken the spell. Getting involved with this guy was not in her plans. It wasn’t in anyone’s plans. A rodeo cowboy, a bull rider, no less. How had she lost her perspective? She knew what she was here for and it wasn’t romance. Okay, Lord, let’s stay on task.
In her heart, she knew God had His eye on her. Still, God gave His children the gift of choice, and it was up to her to make the most of that task. She needed to stay focused. No more close contact with Nick Davidson unless absolutely necessary. She needed to get back to Denver and resume the life that God had prepared for her; Nick needed to get to the NFR
She heard a muffled groan as he leaned forward. “You can’t go alone.”
“Why not?”
“You just can’t,” he said indicating that was explanation enough.
Rachel felt her hackles rise. Men, especially cowboys, never gave women credit. She’d spent hours around hunters, fishermen, lumberjacks, you name it, and none of them ever made her feel inferior. But, ten seconds with a bull rider. . .. “You’re not in any shape to come with me. Look, you’ll feel better after you’ve eaten, then you can take another pill. Head hurt?”
“Not much.”
At the raw edge to his voice, Rachel draped her jacket back over the chair and moved closer to the couch. The low wattage bulb offered dim lighting at best, but enough to see his complexion had paled considerably. “Open your eyes wide.”
“Not this again,” he groaned and leaned back into the cushion.
Despite his attitude, Rachel couldn’t help but smile. She sat beside him and brushed his thick blond hair out of his eyes so she could see better, the ragged strands curled around her fingers. Her smile faded at the unexpected jolt that resonated through her. She lifted her hand from his face and shifted in her seat. The well-stuffed cushion offered little room for her to sit and Nick apparently wasn’t about to move over. The last thing she wanted to do was to touch him again, but she had no choice. Bracing her hand on his shoulder for support, she tipped his jaw toward her. Clearing her throat, she summoned her best air of confidence. “Nurse Ratchet at your service. Now, lids open wide, or I’ll pry ‘em apart.”
He sat still for a moment, then looked at her through slits.
“You can do better than that.” A dimple appeared in his cheek belying the gruff retort.
She made a gesture of opening his lids. “Nick, I’ll run to the truck and get a flashlight. . ..”
“Nooo,” he moaned and lifted his bruised lids as open as possible.
Rachel peered into blue-gray eyes that returned the perusal just as intently. His pupils looked a bit enlarged, but the room was shadowed making it hard to distinguish whether the size stemmed from concussion or lack of light. The close proximity brought a whole new set of problems to light. His clean scent mingled with cinnamon and spice, wrapping her in a blanket of fresh and pure. The muscles of his shoulder moved beneath her hand making her palm tingle. He continued to stare back at her. She wanted to lean into that power for just a moment and let life fend for itself.
Rachel pulled away and lowered her hand to her lap. Nick exuded confidence and stability, common qualities in the men she chose as friends. Only the rugged, masculine air surrounding Nick cranked the persona up to the highest degree.
He reached out and covered her hand with his own. “You can’t go out alone,” his voice low and no-nonsense. “Give me a minute and I’ll go with you.”
Tension whipped across her shoulders and squeezed the muscles of her back at the presumptive statement. Same ol’ song and dance, my friend, as the old saying went. “So, who made you my keeper?”
Grabbing her jacket again, she stopped at the door, but couldn’t make her hand reach for the knob. What was happening here? For the briefest of moments, she’d dropped her guard and relished a connection. Thankfully, he’d spoken and broken the spell. Getting involved with this guy was not in her plans. It wasn’t in anyone’s plans. A rodeo cowboy, a bull rider, no less. How had she lost her perspective? She knew what she was here for and it wasn’t romance. Okay, Lord, let’s stay on task.
In her heart, she knew God had His eye on her. Still, God gave His children the gift of choice, and it was up to her to make the most of that task. She needed to stay focused. No more close contact with Nick Davidson unless absolutely necessary. She needed to get back to Denver and resume the life that God had prepared for her; Nick needed to get to the NFR
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