Cash's Fight (The Last Riders #5)

“Girl, he needs you. He has for a long time.”


Rachel laughed. “Cash doesn’t need or want me. I’m just another woman in town who made a fool of herself over him. He’s fine now; he’s walking. Shade told you the doctors are amazed at his recovery.”

“Thanks to you.”

Rachel shook her head. “I didn’t do anything. The only thing I did was nudge him awake. Cash worked his ass off in physical therapy. He refused to come back to the clubhouse because he didn’t want the others to have to help him the way they did Winter. He’s done it all on his own.”

Mag turned her wheelchair around in a sharp turn. “You’re still being pissy because you’re mad at him. I went through the same thing with his father; he always had some woman pissed off at him. Cash is just like his father, Rachel.”

“I know,” she responded, making the old woman suddenly start laughing.

“I’m going to go cook some breakfast. You want anything?”

“No, thanks. If I don’t stop eating your breakfasts, I’ll be the one in the hospital with a coronary.”

“A fried egg never killed anyone.”

“It does when you add a half a pack of bacon, biscuits, and gravy. You use enough lard to sink a boat.”

“A good breakfast keeps you going all day,” she argued.

“Your breakfast will put me in the ER by nine,” Rachel told her as Mag wheeled herself out of the sunroom.

Rachel could only shake her head at the woman who refused to listen to the diet restrictions her doctor had given her. How the woman had lived to be eighty-eight, eating the way she did, was a miracle. Rachel understood the woman loved to cook, but there were healthier versions she could fix besides the cholesterol-loaded food she was determined to get Rachel to eat. If her ass got any bigger, she was going to have to buy Cash’s grandmother new chairs.

The smell of frying bacon teased her nostrils. Rachel was determined to ignore the tantalizing aroma as she continued to work, though. She heard a knock on the door and Cash’s grandmother’s voice as she answered it.

Her next-door neighbor came over every morning to check on her and drink a cup of coffee. Sometimes her son, Jason, would come and check, making sure she didn’t need any work done around the house. Mag told her he used to come over once a week, but now it was almost daily. Rachel was glad she had resisted the lure of breakfast; it would keep her from being trapped in his presence for the next hour.

When the door opened and closed again, Rachel decided to grab a piece of fruit on her way into town to work at the church store.

Going through the house, she stopped at the bathroom to get washed and dressed for work, sliding on a dark navy skirt with a pretty, rose-colored sweater.

Deciding she needed caffeine to face Brooke first thing in the morning, she stopped by the kitchen on the way out the door.

She came to an abrupt stop in the doorway when she saw the room filled with The Last Riders. The small table was filled with them eating the coronary-inducing breakfast she had denied herself. She tried to edge out of the room before anyone saw her.

“Rachel, come on in and fix yourself a plate.” The darn woman had the entire room’s attention on her as she stood in the doorway.

Refusing to make a fool of herself in front of them, she walked farther into the room, going to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“You going to eat?” Mag demanded.

“Don’t have time. I don’t want to be late opening the store.” Forcing herself to face the man staring her down, she said, “It’s good to see you out of the hospital, Cash.”

“Thanks, Rachel.” His voice had lost none of its rough timber. His appearance was a shock, but she couldn’t help noticing how well he looked. The only difference was the amount of weight he had lost and the pallor to his skin.

“I better be going; I don’t want to keep the customers waiting.” Rachel didn’t run from the room, exiting calmly without a backward glance. She was proud of the way she had handled seeing him again. She had proven to herself that any feelings she had held for him had died, and she was more than ready to move on with the plans she had for her life.

The door closing behind her was like a chapter closing in her life and a new one starting.

*

“That girl is pissed at you.”

Cash made a face at his grandmother’s remark. He didn’t have to be told; the frostbitten glaze had come across in her eyes well enough to tell him that piece of information.