Page 11 of Backup Cowboy
“Glad y’all could make it.” Nash stands as we approach, shaking Cas’s hand and giving me a side-hug.
His wife, Rebecca, gets out of her chair to give me a hug, an act that surprises me. I’m not generally a hugger, but she and I have a lot in common. We were both born into families with connections and high expectations. We’re both driven. She’s an attorney and is opening her own girls’ camp out here somewhere. Her hug feels good and genuine.
“I brought you a blanket. It gets cool up here.” She nods to the plush leopard print throw that matches her own. “Nash brought the coffee.”
He hands me a thermos and an insulted bag filled with a variety of creamers.
“You’ve done this before.”
Rebecca nods. “It’s one of my favorite things to do. Capri and I drag the guys here as often as we can.”
As I mix my coffee, I see that Nash brought a thermos for Caspian, too. It’s obvious that Nash has a lot of respect for Cas and vice versa. Otherwise, why would Caspian escort me out here when he could be sleeping another hour?
We visit as the first tinge of pink hits the horizon, contentment filling me as we look out over the ridge to the river below.
“I’m curious why we’re here and not at Twisted Whiskey?”
Nash laughs. “This was closer to you.”
“And Zane doesn’t mind?”
Nash looks over at me. “Trust me, he’s storing this up as ammunition for the next time he wants a favor.”
“Don’t listen to him, Alex.” Rebecca flicks her hand at her husband’s shoulder. “These guys share a gate between the properties and each have first right of refusal to buy the other’s property if either wants to sell.”
“Which has roughly the same odds as hell freezing over.” Caspian raises his mug in a mock salute toward Nash.
Nash chuckles.
“Is that the Blue Canyon River?” I picture it running right through Caspian’s property, and when I look over, he’s hiding a slight smile behind his coffee cup.
Nash sets his mug down and gestures toward the water below. “Yep. Zane’s creek runs right into it.”
“It’s breathtaking.”
“Makes you want to move here, doesn’t it?”
When I silently nod and look over at Nash, the vibe instantly changes at the interested looks on his and Rebecca’s faces. Nash takes a deep breath and leans forward in his chair.
“I want you to come work with me.”
Quirking my head to the side, I sigh. “Another festival? You’re trying to kill me, Nash, aren’t you?”
Rebecca grins behind her thermos.
“Naw. Murder isn’t my style. I want you to open a label with me. Here.” He motions a sweeping hand toward the landscape. “In Cobalt County.”
“You want to open a record label with me?”
“Yes. We would be equal partners. I want to work for myself. I want to have my own deadlines, work with new talent, and own my music catalog.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, the rising sun casting his face in warm light. “It would be a smallindie label that’s as big or as small as we want it to be. Between the two of us, I know it will be a success.”
To say that I am stunned is putting it mildly. If the offer were from anyone else, I wouldn’t even consider it. But I can tell that Nash is serious. He’s not only a talented a singer, he’s an astute businessman. The fact that Rebecca’s on board tells me they’ve already run preliminary numbers.
“When are you looking to start?”
“As soon as you are available.”
My contract is yearly, and my attorneys are about to start negotiations, so his timing is impeccable.