Free The Circle Eight: Nicholas by Emma Lang

reached up and took her traveling bag from beneath the seat. “Please take care of the animals and then come inside. I’ll get a late supper ready.”
    He wanted to kick his own ass, which wasn’t uncommon. Damned if the wrong words fell out of his mouth again. He cursed as he unhitched the team and brought the horses into the small barn. The rig would sit outside until the morning and they could return it. Winnie kept a clean stable although she had no animals of her own except for a barn cat, which meowed at him with fervor when he opened the door. Nick lit the lantern hanging by the door and then led the horses in.
    “I’ll end up out here with you fellas.” He settled the first horse into a stall and then the second. There were oats and fresh water readily available. She must have someone keep the stable stocked at all times. He supposed that was part and parcel of owning a boardinghouse. Folks who stayed with her would have mounts. She was probably popular just for the equine accommodations, not to mention the beautiful house, good food and the exquisite hostess.
    He brushed the horses down, made sure they were comfortable with food and water. Nick knew he was avoiding going into the house. He didn’t want to admit why.
    Nick was afraid.
    Now that he’d admitted so much to Winnie and turned her life upside down by concocting a scheme to find her daughter, he didn’t know what to do. What if she wanted to talk more? Or, God forbid, share what he felt? The very thought of more talking made his stomach flip.
    Then again , she’d been quiet for more than a day since the last time they had truly held a conversation. There was nothing to be afraid of, yet he still dragged his feet. The cat, a yellow tabby with half an ear on the left side, stared at him from the open door.
    “I suppose I should get on up there. She likely has supper on the table.”
    Meow.
    “She had good vittles if I remember right.”
    Meow.
    “She even takes in ugly strays like you.”
    Meow .
    “And me.”
    Nick turned out the lantern and closed the barn door. The cat loped along beside him as he walked to the back door. A warm glow emanated from the small window he knew was above the sink. It looked like a home. A welcoming one.
    His heart clenched. Pure need pulsed out from within. Need to come home to her, an d feel her warm body against his each night. A fairytale.
    Did he have the courage to find out if the fairytale could be a reality? He sure as hell didn’t know. Maybe he never would. Or perhaps this adventure would prove him wrong about what happiness meant. His steps faltered at the thought.
    Nick thought courage was something men had to face down danger. Now he knew differently. Courage was having the balls to be scared shitless and still be foolish enough to move forward. He dug deep to find it. After a fortifying breath he walked up the steps and knocked on the back door.
    “Come in.” Her voice came from within, light and lilting.
    Meow .
    The cat darted inside as soon as he opened the door. It headed straight for Winnie’s legs, winding around beneath her skirt and meowing for all he was worth.
    “ Cheddar, what are you doing in here?” She glanced down at the cat, a lock of her golden hair swaying across her cheek.
    “I’m afraid he latched on to me.” Nick took off his hat and held it in his hands, turning it this way and that. He wasn’t sure what to do. Staying in her house when she was shot was a different situation than this one. Now she was hale and hearty. And alone. It hadn’t occurred to him they would be in the house together without a chaperone.
    Heat raced through him at the possibilities. And the memories of the barn on the Circle Eight. He resisted the urge to adjust his growing erection in his trousers, even as his circulation suffered.
    “He’s a pest when he wants to be, which is more often than not.” Winnie shooed the cat away with her foot but the feline didn’t go far. It sa t a foot away and