Cowboy Smile Northern Style

By Kathleen Lash

Stupid had a place and it wasn’t in Nash’s life anymore. How many mistakes could a man make? One near marriage to the perfect woman. One marriage to the wrong woman. And one divorce. Yep, being alone had advantages. At least that was his belief over the years. He liked his unruffled existence until Grey showed back up. It was time to take a stand and get his life in order once and for all.

 

Greyson needed a favor. A huge favor. A life and death favor. She’d exhausted all options but one. Nash Walker. She had no right to ask him for a thing but he was her last resort. She prayed during her drive to Ohio he’d let her and the kids stay until she sorted through her messy life. She’d even drop to her knees and beg. That’s if he didn’t shoot her on sight.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kathleen Lash
• Release date: May 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513037707

Kathleen Lash

Kathleen Lash enjoys creating unique romance novels in several genres. From the commander of a deep space vessel to the owner of a trucking company, she loves taking a walk with her characters to help them find their way through messy situations. She lives in Ohio with the love of her life, her husband, adult children and grandchildren.

Book preview

Chapter One

Nash Walker woke from a dead sleep to the incessant ringing of the doorbell. Sixteen hours in the hellish cold and snow earlier forced an evil mood to descend before his feet even hit the carpeted floor. He’d likely kill someone.

He slipped on a pair of sweat pants and stumbled from his room in a daze. When he passed the grandfather clock in the hallway, he realized he’d only been asleep for an hour.

One God damn hour!

He staggered to the front door and placed his hand on the knob. He counted to ten so he wouldn’t blast the pest on the other side. More than likely, some idiot ditched their car on one of the hills on the icy, winding road. It’d happened previously. Damn, the last thing he wanted to do was get dressed and drag some moron out of a ditch.

After swinging the door half way, a gust of below zero wind slapped his face and chest. Adjusting his gaze into the darkness, he gave up and flicked on the outside porch light. No one. His gaze dropped when he heard something whine. To his amazement, a child stood in an oversized coat, his gloved hand still reaching for the doorbell.

Jesus H. Christ! Nash swung the screen door open wide.

The boy didn’t back up and when the metal frame brushed him, the kid fell on his ass.

Nash grabbed a hold of the frozen youngster, hoisted him up, and looked  into the distant night. Visibility had dropped to no more than ten or fifteen feet. How in the hell did the kid find the house? It stood a good distance from the road. Stepping back inside, he slammed the front door and flicked on the lights while walking to the couch. He laid the freezing bundle down, unzipping and unsnapping the parka. A boy of about eight or nine emerged. His dazed eyes and wind burned cheeks clearly relayed he’d been exposed to the elements a lot longer than a few minutes.

Roughly, Nash stripped the coat, hat, tennis shoes and socks from the kid. His feet and toes glowed bright red. Nash needed to warm him quickly. If the kid was lucky, he didn’t have frostbite. With the amount of ice clinging on his little jeans, he’d be soaking wet in about five minutes. When he tried stripping off the rest of the frozen clothes, the youngster started fighting.

Whoa, easy kid. You need to dry off.

Get bent, came the reply through chattering teeth.

Nash smiled. The boy couldn’t be too bad off if he retained some spunkiness. I’ll get you a shirt if you want.

Get my mom.

Nash straightened and rested his fists on his waist. He’d tolerate the half-pint human ordering him around because the situation warranted a little understanding. Where is she?

The kid turned his head toward the door.

Yeah, no shit.

Where else would she be? Nash wiped a hand over his face, made himself wake up and hurried back to his bedroom. He stripped off the sweat pants and dressed in his warmest thermals before pulling on a pair of jeans. He grabbed an insulated shirt before walking to where he’d left the boy. The kid sat on the floor, trying to wiggle the wet socks back onto his feet.

You’re staying here, Nash said.

My mom! From the volume of the kids voice, he was warming up quick.

I’ll get her, but you’re staying put. He tossed the shirt on the couch. Get those wet clothes off and throw that on. Where is she?

Outside.

Yeah, I figured that. He didn’t like kids. Especially lippy, ill-mannered ones. He swallowed what he might’ve said under different circumstance. On the road, in a ditch, north, south?

The little hellion glared at him. Right.

Huh?

He cleared his throat and for the first time since he’d been dragged inside, he looked scared. Go to the road and turn right.

How far?

I don’t know. I didn’t count my steps.

Rotten kid. On the road or off?

The car’s mostly on the road, he said before his voice cracked. We slid. We got stuck and she got out. When the car died, I went to look for her and couldn’t see her. She wasn’t there. He drew a ragged breath and the redness in his cheeks drained. He stroked his hair back repeatedly in an exaggerated, frustrated manner.

Nash squatted down and placed his hand on the kids shoulder. I’ll find her. Like I said, take those clothes off, get the shirt on and wrap up in the blankets sitting there. He pointed to two quilts folded on the opposite end of the couch.

Before he could stand, the kid grabbed a fistful of Nash’s shirt and hung on. You’ll bring her and Quinn back?

Nash glared at the boys small fist until the half-pint let go. Now there’s two of them out there?

I was afraid to bring her. Left her asleep in the car. Didn’t know if I’d find a house. The kid shook from a lot more than cold.

I’ll find ‘em. He walked quickly to the door and slid on his heaviest coat. There’s food in the fridge. Eat if you want. The bathroom’s down the hall. The rest of the house is off limits, so stay out of my shit. You listening?

"Yes, sir."

The name’s Nash, not sir. He probably shouldn’t bark at the kid, but damn, he hadn’t counted on this and he sure as hell didn’t like surprises.

Hurry, please.

Yep, I’d planned on it.

Nash tugged the Stetson onto his head before stuffing his feet into his insulated work boots. In a jiffy, he left the warmth of his home. He cussed every step of the way. He’d plowed the drive prior to parking the one-ton pickup in the big barn. The snow stood ankle deep. What type of woman would venture onto a country road in the worst damn snow storm of the year with a kid in the car?

Not a very bright one, he’d wager.

And what the hell was a Quinn? Likely the family dog. Probably a Rottweiler with a bad attitude.

The ice made opening the barn door a major chore. It groaned as it slid to the side. "Hey, girl, I know I just put you to bed, but rise and shine. We’re going Quinn and momma huntin’." He felt he owed his truck an explanation for taking her back into the shitty weather.

He unplugged the block heater and climbed into the cab. The pickup fired first try and rattled until the oil started flowing. Diesels could be unpredictable in frigid weather, but once his baby started, she never missed a beat.

He backed from the barn, turned around and dropped the blade. Scraping the drive, he eventually hit the road. Turn right, he mumbled, slapping the truck into a lower gear.

The blizzard raged and he crawled barely twenty miles an hour. Even knowing the road as well as he did, he couldn’t see more than a few feet beyond the headlights. The odometer kept rolling and he sat a little straighter in the seat. He must’ve missed the car because he was coming up on the two mile mark. No way could a scrawny kid walk two miles in this.

At the two and one-half mile mark, he’d just about convinced himself to turn around when he caught sight of something partially wedged in the ditch. After sliding to a stop, he surveyed a blue car. Its rear wheels rested off the road, buried axle deep.

He slapped the gear shift into park and hopped from the cab. The car wasn’t running but at least the woman had the sense to leave the lights on. He opened the driver’s door and glanced around. Other than a pile of laundry heaped on the back seat, the car sat vacant. Maybe the dog took off. He tried twisting the key which remained in the ignition. The battery didn’t have enough juice to start the old clunker. He couldn’t believe the lights had shown at all.

A Goddamn miracle I found it, he muttered, rising from the seat. "Now give me another one. Let me find her and the Quinn, which better not be some Rottweiler with a lousy temper."

He started to close the door when a muffled sound caught his attention. He sat down and twisted around in time to see the bundle of clothing quiver. One quick swipe revealed what lay underneath. The situation was a lot worse than he’d imagined. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

Damn it! he yelled before replacing the clothing back on top of the baby. He jumped from the car and yelled, Lady! Answer me!

Fine, just fine! If she could answer, I bet she’d be yelling her fool head off right ‘bout now.

Thank god that boy left the baby in the car. If he would’ve tried carrying her two miles in this storm... He wouldn’t think about it. No, sir, he’d put it from his mind and find the momma.

Take care of business. No time for pondering what ifs.

He slipped and slid his way around the vehicle and discovered an orange toy. It looked as if she’d tried digging out the rear wheels with a plastic kiddy shovel. One of the floor mats sat on the trunk. Maybe she wasn’t half as dumb as he’d initially thought. She probably tried to dig down far enough before jamming the mat in front of the tire on the rear-wheel drive vehicle.

So, she might be able to find her way out of some trouble after all. It didn’t stop her from getting into one hell of a mess in the first place. Yep, maybe she’s only half dumb.

The red taillights barely illuminated the area. No woman miraculously appeared. He wondered if she’d gotten turned around and wandered into the woods. It’d be easy enough to do with the constant snowfall. He couldn’t fathom how the little fellow kept his bearings.

As he walked the perimeter of the back of the car, he felt something odd under his boot. His heart sank into his stomach as he dropped to his knees.

Don’t let this be the kid’s mom.

Sure enough, he grabbed, pulled and found a limp arm. After staggering to his feet, he eased the rest of her from under the snow and out of the partially frozen muck in the ditch. Even through his gloves, he could feel her body temperature. She was ice cold.

Despite her being covered in mud, he managed to heft the slippery woman into his arms. She didn’t groan or complain and he nearly fell twice trying to place his feet back onto the snow covered pavement. Without hesitation, he opened the passenger door of the truck and placed her on the floor of the cab. He flicked the fan motor to high and prayed it’d do some good warming her on the ride home.

He slammed the passenger door and trudged back to the sedan. He opened the back door, swiped the mound of clothes to the side and looked at all the belts holding the baby in the car seat. A loud cry pierced the soundless night as he fumbled, trying to get all the latches undone. Between her coat, snow pants and straps, it took him a moment but he finally managed to free her.

At least the woman had provided winter gear for one of her kids. It’s probably the only reason the little tidbit was alive. He swallowed several times in an attempt to ease the growing lump in his throat. This could’ve been so much worse.

Come on, pumpkin, he said, picking her up gently. Damn, what a tiny baby. We’ll have to figure something out. Can’t waste time getting your little racing seat all hooked up in my truck. Your momma didn’t look too hot.

After climbing into his truck, he laid the baby down and cinched her in with the lap belt. At twenty miles an hour, the short trip shouldn’t cause her any harm. He wondered about her mother though as he dropped the truck into a low gear.

The woman didn’t stir. He thought about driving the forty miles to the nearest hospital. It’d take him hours if they made it at all. Too, if his beefy truck could barely navigate the roads, an ambulance sure as hell wouldn’t find his house.

Thankfully, a neighbor happened to be a doctor. If either the woman or kids needed medical help, he’d make the call. With luck, Frank would be stranded on his farm with his pregnant wife and not stuck in the city. He tried remembering if he’d seen Frank’s car when he’d gone over earlier to plow their drive. Yep, he remembered seeing it through a frosty garage window. Or at least he thought he did.

The littlest lady certainly wasn’t doing too badly. She had a nice, healthy set of lungs because she cut loose and wailed the entire twenty minute ride. The noise didn’t disturb him too much. Accustomed to the balling and screams of cattle and sheep, he figured she’d have to do a lot better than that to get under his skin. After what she’d been through, she could fuss all she wanted.

The truck finally slid to a stop near the walk and he let it run while he unhooked the lap belt from the baby. Scooping her into his arms, he ambled to the porch. He hadn’t climbed the first step when the front door swung open and the boy ran barefooted outside into the snow wearing only Nash’s shirt. Get inside, damn it, Nash hollered.

He followed the kid into the house and gestured toward the bundle in his arms. Is this Quinn?

Yes! He extended his arms.

Nash carefully handed him the small bundle. Can you care for her while I fetch your momma?

Yes.

Take her away from this door and keep her warm.

Thanks, the kid said, taking the baby.

Go on now, step to the other side of the room.

Yes, sir.

"Sir," he muttered on his way back to the truck.

He opened the passenger door, reached across the seat and shut off the engine. After sliding the keys into his pocket, he grabbed hold of the woman and pulled her into his arms. The heat had started doing some good. She wasn’t nearly as stiff and some of the ice on her clothes had begun to melt.

A few long strides brought him inside the house. Kicking the front door shut with his boot, he found the boy seated on the couch holding the baby, both of them layered in blankets.

Look, kid, I’m taking your mamma downstairs. I have a wide shower down there. I’ll get her warmed up as quick as I can. You take care of the little lady. Despite Nash’s loud voice, the kid sat there in a daze. You listening?

Yes, sir.

And quit calling me sir. I told you, the name’s Nash.

"Yes, Nash."

If he wasn’t mistaken, the kid somehow told him