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“Promise.” Nash gathered her close.
Londyn’s body melted into his.
He held her as she cried, his heart breaking for her.
Londyn had lost her grandfather, the one person who had made her feel safe. Now, she’d lost her beloved horse.
How many acres did the rancher own? Nash had heard someone say it was more than fourteen thousand acres. He couldn’t even fathom what that looked like or how hard it could be to find a single horse loose on that large of a spread.
He didn’t know how they’d do it, but Nash had to find that horse if it was the last thing he did. He’d promised.
CHAPTER 9
Londyn hadn’t cried when her grandfather had died, nor had she cried at his funeral. She’d held it together through it all, though it had hurt like someone had ripped her heart out of her chest.
Throwing herself into the spring roundup had allowed her to postpone her grief. She’d worked from early in the morning to late at night, falling into bed too exhausted to think. Then, learning she might lose the ranch had occupied her mind so completely that she wouldn’t let herself think about the empty room at the end of the hall in the ranch house.
She hadn’t slowed down long enough to process her loss until Butterscotch ran off.
Her grandfather had given her Butterscotch as a newly weaned filly six years ago. They’d worked together to train her. He’d been so proud of how she’d cared for the mare and how well she’d trained her.
Losing Butterscotch was like losing her grandfather all over again.
Because she’d had to take on the responsibility of the ranch, managing the everyday activities and the annual roundup, she hadn’t been able to afford appearing weak in front of the ranch hands.
Now, away from LJ Ranch, away from the ranch hands who expected her to be strong like her grandfather and cocooned in Nash’s arms, Londyn couldn’t hold back. The grief of losing Gramps, the fear of potentially losing her home and the stress of performing for the first time in her life all came to a head with the loss of Butterscotch.
For a handful of minutes, she ugly-cried, her tears soaking Nash’s T-shirt.
He stood still, his arms around her, holding her until she’d cried herself out.
Yeah, she could have cried longer, but crying wouldn’t get her horse back.
As she surfaced from her grief, she lifted her head. “How?”
He looked down into her eyes, still holding her close. “How what?”
“How are we going to find her?”
He looked over her shoulder in the direction the mare had run. “We need to get to the rancher who owns this place. He would be the best one to help as he’s the most familiar with the land and places the mare might go.”
She nodded. “And he might have horses or ATVs we can use to search.”
“Exactly,” Nash concurred. “Let’s get to the owner and back here as soon as possible. The longer we’re away from this location, the further the mare can go.”
Londyn nodded. Still, she hesitated, looking up into his eyes. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
Her mouth twisted into a wry grin. “For letting me soak your shirt.”
“It’ll dry.” He brushed his thumb across her damp cheek. “Are you okay now?”
She nodded. “I think so.”
“Then let’s get moving.” He brushed his lips across hers, then stepped back, took her hand and walked to the truck with her. He opened and held the passenger door.
She frowned for a moment.
