Chapter 2 Uphill Battles

Four months later

Nash strode through the main horse barn at Canyon Creek Ranch. It was the quickest route to the adjacent indoor riding ring where Noelle spent most of her time. He picked up his pace at the thought of the incredible news he had to share with her, wanting her to be the first to hear it. He hadn't even told his brothers yet.

His boots clomped noisily across the plank hallway. The long white steel building housed several dozen horse stalls, plus the ranch's administrative offices. The offices jutted from the front of the building in a section paved with contrasting beige sandstone. His office as ranch manager was the most spacious one, with a wall of windows that overlooked the front parking lot. The two-story rambling farmhouse where he and his brothers lived lay just beyond it.

As he traversed the building to the riding ring in the back, he gripped the white envelope, knowing what it contained could amount to a real game changer. Though Noelle was convinced he'd be back on the competitive circuit soon, he wasn't holding his breath. Yeah, he was back in the saddle. She'd been right about that part, at least. He hadn't made it through his first week at home without caving into the temptation to climb back on a horse. Since he was still healing at the time, all he'd done was sit there, brooding over how different his future looked than the one he'd previously imagined for himself. Having limited mobility in one arm really limited one's options.

It had taken more than six weeks for the wounded stump to heal. Only after he'd been fitted with a permanent prosthesis did his quality of life take a turn for the better. Thanks to his inheritance from his parents, plus a successful bronc riding career leading up to his accident, he was able to afford the most cutting-edge technology available in prosthetics. His new bionic arm had set him back over a hundred grand, but it was quickly proving to be worth every penny.

He nodded at a pair of grooms mucking out horse stalls.

They nodded back. "Hey, boss," one of them called. As usual, their gazes dropped to his prosthetic limb as he walked past them.

He deliberately lifted it to tip his hat at them. Though he had on a long-sleeve shirt and gloves, the gesture earned him two wide grins.

The tendency of his staff to stare at his arm had taken some getting used to. They didn't mean to be rude. They were simply curious.

He didn't blame them. He was still getting used to the new arm himself. At first, his two brothers had driven him crazy, rushing to open doors and relieve him of anything he might be carrying. It had taken only one vent session with Noelle to change that. The very next day, his brothers had backed off and allowed him to start carrying his own weight around the ranch again.

Though she'd pretended innocence when he'd asked her about it, he suspected she had a hand in his brothers' abrupt change in behavior. He was grateful to her on so many levels that it bordered on ridiculous these days. After the friendship pact they'd agreed to, she'd very quickly advanced from his friend and accountability partner to his deepest confidante and sounding board. Though they weren't dating, people treated them like they were, and he hadn't bothered to set them straight. He hoped she didn't mind. For reasons he didn't want to delve too deeply into, it was the one and only topic he hadn't asked for her input on.

Yet.

They were only four months into their twelve-month dating diet, and she'd made it pretty clear she wasn't looking to end it prematurely. In the meantime, being her go-to guy wasn't exactly a shabby arrangement. Anytime she was sad, lonely, or just needed to talk, she came to him. He did his fair share of venting to her in return, mostly about the challenges of being an amputee. So far, he was the only one who'd required the services of a plus one. She'd tossed on a dress and accompanied him all three times without question. And, boy, did she clean up well!

Nash made it to the indoor riding ring, enjoying the scent of the fresh layer of sawdust carpeting the room. Noelle had one of his newest horses in the ring with her. Not wanting to distract her while she was working, he didn't say anything as he moved forward to prop a boot on the lowest rung of the metal fence separating them.

It was nice seeing his newest horse trainer finally off her crutches. She'd suffered a few setbacks, spraining her ankle after the hard cast had come off. Her doctor had immediately put her in a soft cast and ordered her to remain on crutches for a few extra days. Then she'd fallen and bruised her knee cap so badly that the doc had added even more days on crutches. Though Nash would never say it to her face, Noelle Ward was a hopeless klutz. For this reason, he kept as close of an eye on her as possible.

Fortunately, she had a fairly docile horse in the ring with her this morning, a young filly named Cookie. The black-spotted creature was as frisky as a kitten, but biddable. Noelle had spent the last couple of days working on rope pressure exercises.

"You silly girl," she chided affectionately when the filly tried to nibble her hand. "How about we run off some more energy before getting down to work this morning?" She removed the lead rope and patted the horse's flank to get her moving.

As the filly cantered in a circle, happily kicking up sawdust, a new sound met Nash's ears — the muted patter of rain on the red metal roof over their heads. He glanced up, thrilled to hear it. The month of April had kicked off a dry season. The pond levels were getting low, and the irrigators in the hay and alfalfa fields were getting a bigger workout than he preferred. A few inches of moisture would be mighty welcome about now.

Noelle waited until Cookie whooshed past Nash a second time before sauntering in his direction.

Though he kept his gaze on her animated features, he couldn't help noticing the lithe movements of her willowy frame. She looked good in her jeans and tall, black riding boots. Real good. She had a fitted pale blue jacket zipped over a white tank top, accenting a healthy set of curves. Not too skinny and not too far in the other direction, either. She wasn't afraid to eat a burger or get her fingers messy with hot wings while chowing down with the rest of the ranch hands. On the other hand, she refused to drink anything other than water —lemon water, lime water, cucumber water, you name it. She always had something fresh and flavorful floating on the top of her water.

Her reddish-blonde hair was pulled back into two braids that always made his fingers itch to give them a tug. No makeup covered the sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks. She possessed a natural beauty that didn't come out of a bottle.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She pretended to dust off her shoulders as she approached him. "Is there a fly on my jacket or something?"

"Nope." He leaned his forearms on the fence, still watching her. "Just happen to like the way you look in a Stetson."

"I do wear it well," she teased, reaching up to cock the brim at a sassier angle for his benefit. "So do you, cowboy." She affectionately reached up to adjust his hat next.

Or so he assumed.

Instead, she yanked his hat sideways. Then she danced out of reach.

"You little—" Without thinking, he vaulted over the fence and lunged after her.

With a squeal, she stutter-stepped back and nearly lost her balance.

He took advantage of her momentary loss in equilibrium to toss her over one of his shoulders and swing her around and around until he started to grow dizzy.

She convulsed into giggles. "Put me down," she gasped, pounding his shoulder blades with her fists. Not too hard, just enough to get her point across.

Cookie flew past them again, whinnying excitedly as if enjoying the sight of her trainer being tossed around.

"Whose side are you on?" Noelle spat the question before convulsing into another round of giggles.

When Nash finally slid her back to her feet, one of her hands gently squeezed his right shoulder. Then her fingers trailed lightly down his arm, past the ridge of his stump and on to the bionic section beneath his shirt. She'd done it before a few other times, and it always made that part of him feel more human because of her acceptance of it.

He watched her expression change — not to one of wariness or revulsion, but to one of wonder.

"I still can't get over how real it looks," she whispered. "Or how well it works." She blinked back a sheen of dampness forming in her eyes. "It feels like a miracle, doesn't it?"

"Every single day," he agreed in a rough voice. He wasn't referring to just his prosthetic arm. The bigger miracle in his life was her. Her friendship. Her support. Her unwavering belief in his ability to do anything he set his mind to, despite the extra physical challenges he faced these days.

"Your dexterity with your right hand is phenomenal," she added in a soft, reverent voice.

It was. He felt like the most fortunate man on the planet to have regained so much mobility after the loss of a limb. So much so that he'd finally signed up for his first rodeo since the accident. His mouth opened to tell her, but she'd already moved on to another subject.

She tossed one of her braids irritably over her shoulder. "I can't believe I'm on a losing streak in Jenga to you. I mean, seriously. That game has always been my jam." She wiggled her fingers, then held them up to him. "See? Perfectly steady hands here. Everyone loses to me. Literally everyone except you." She wrinkled her nose petulantly at him. "Have you been cheating?"

He gave a bark of laughter. "How do you cheat in Jenga?"

"I don't know. You tell me!" Though she shot him another dirty look, her lips twitched like she was trying not to laugh.

"Quit being such a sore loser." He glowered playfully at her. "If you take back your accusation, I might offer you a rematch. Tonight. Right after dinner."

"Deal." She turned around and leaned back against him as Cookie finally started to slow down.

He hooked an arm around her middle and held her there. "Something bothering you?" He spoke against her ear in case anyone walked in on them. After four months of having her at Canyon Creek Ranch, he'd become pretty familiar with her moods. She only got clingy like this when she was worried about something. Worried about him, to be more precise.

"Maybe I was wrong about something, Nash," she sighed.

Uh-oh. "Wrong about what?" His brain scrambled to fill in the rest. Wrong about setting up a friendship pact between us? Wrong about insisting on waiting an entire blasted year before we start dating again?

As much as it had hurt to see Adeline reunite with Brady, Nash's pain had quickly been replaced with his unexpected attraction to Noelle. At first, he'd worried he might be suffering from a touch of the rebound syndrome she'd warned him about. But the way his feelings had deepened with each passing day, he no longer believed that was true. Not even a little. He was falling for his new horse trainer, plain and simple. Unfortunately, he had no idea if she wanted anything more from him than friendship, now or ever.

It took her so long to respond to his question that he hitched her closer to reclaim her attention. "Wrong about what?" he repeated, feeling his first pang of worry. If it was something she was reluctant to talk about, it must be bad.

"About you returning to riding broncs." She drew a shaky breath.

"What?" He was so shocked by her words that he dropped his arm from her middle and spun her around to face him. "Why do you say that?"

Her green eyes grew glassy. "Because I've been doing some reading about…stuff." Her gaze darted to his arm, then back to his face.

"What kind of reading?" His voice grew tight.

"About your arm and the incredible technology embedded in it." She bit her lower lip. "It was selfish of me to keep pushing you to get back on a bronc and risk all of that." She glanced away from him, swallowing hard. "I never meant to imply that being a ranch manager wasn't good enough, because it is. It's more than good enough. Every single staff member claims that things have never run more smoothly around here. You're really, really, really good at this, Nash." Pressing a hand to her heaving chest, she continued, "So maybe this is the right next step for you." She spread her hands to include their surroundings. "Not my constant pushing for you to return to the competitive circuit."

"Well, I'll be!" He glanced away from her in frustration, not entirely sure how to tell her he'd already gone and done exactly that. He'd be riding three days from now at a local event. A few riders had backed out at the last minute due to other commitments, so the rodeo manager had waived the signup deadline in the hopes of attracting more riders.

"Are you mad at me for saying that?" Noelle's anxious question interrupted his thoughts.

"Nope." He was more confused than anything else.

"Disappointed?" Her voice cracked, making his head swivel back in her direction.

"Where's this coming from?" He felt like he deserved a better explanation than the one she'd given him so far.

"My reading," she reminded with a vague wave of her hand.

"Care to elaborate on that?" He caught her hand with his bionic one and lowered it between them, tangling their fingers together.

She blinked in surprise at him. "Um, so…last night I read about the risk of fracturing the bone that the bionics in your arm are connected to. There's also the risk of muscle inflammation, infections, chronic skin irritation, and the list goes on and on and on. It's worse with contact sports." She shuddered. "Pretty sure bronc riding counts as that."

"No doubt." He'd been informed about all the risks up front, though, and had been counseled in detail on how to avoid such risks. "That's why I'm so careful, babe." The endearment slipped out. He hadn't meant to call her that.

She looked surprised, but otherwise didn't acknowledge his slip up. Leaning closer to him, she continued in a pleading voice, "I honestly hadn't considered any of those things while cheering you back into the world of bronc riding. I just wanted you to believe in yourself again. To stop grieving over everything you'd lost. To embrace your new life. And you have." She gave him a wobbly smile. "As your friend, I'm so crazy proud of you that my heart could just about explode."

He smirked down at her. "That sounds messy."

She gave his bionic hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm being serious."

"I can tell." He sobered. "Just wish you'd come to all your fussy new conclusions about me before I signed up for my next bronc riding competition."

Her face grew pale. "You didn't," she breathed.

"I did." His voice was wry. "I was on a waiting list for a local event happening this Friday, and just got the call a few minutes ago. Wanted you to be the first to hear about it since you've been my biggest cheerleader every step of the way."

"I still am," she assured in a shaky voice. "For real, Nash. I'm not giving up on you. That's not what this is about."

"I get it." He winked at her. "You're just worried, which means you care about me."

"Of course I care about you!" Her eyes grew round. "And I'm not getting cold feet or trying to change the rules on you in the middle of the game. If I hadn't read that article…" She paused and swallowed hard. "But I did, and I'm never going to be able to unread it." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Nash, but I'm going to have to ask you to not compete. I'll beg if necessary." Her voice grew so strained that he was afraid she was about to break down altogether.

He glanced up as one of the grooms entered the arena outside the ring. Dropping Noelle's hand and angling his head at Cookie, he silently beckoned the guy to return the young horse to her stall.

Only after the groom led the filly away did he nudge Noelle toward the gate. "Let's take this conversation to my office, shall we?"

She nodded mutely. As they walked in silence down the long hallway, she looked so forlorn that he almost reached for her hand again. The fact that she considered him to be a good friend and nothing more held him back.

Yeah, he wanted more with her — so much more — but not at the expense of losing what they already had between them.