by Jodi Thomas
He took a few more steps toward her. “Besides, the storm is still too fierce. Even if you want to risk your life, you can’t risk your horse’s.”
Rue Ann finally released the doorknob. “I realized I shouldn’t be here. It’s too much.”
“I won’t hurt you. Please trust me. You can’t go home in the middle of a raging storm. That lightning could kill you.”
“As well it might if I stay.”
Logan wondered what that meant as he covered the space between them. Once she’d reluctantly taken the cup of coffee, he urged her toward the fire. “You need to get out of those wet clothes. I should’ve insisted on that when I first got you safely inside.”
But he was having a hard time thinking straight. After all, he’d received quite a jolt when he found her on his premises with Sheba in tow.
Rue Ann quickly raised her hand to stop him. “Oh, no you don’t, mister. You’re not getting these clothes off me.”
Logan quirked an eyebrow. He found the wild pulse in her throat very intriguing. “Not even to keep you from catching your death? What I propose is perfectly innocent. I can find you something to wear while yours dry.”
He noticed her indecision. She still didn’t trust him enough to lower her defenses. Shoot, at this point he didn’t know if he trusted himself either.
To be frank, he wanted her. Every fiber of his being, every single part of him, cried out for her.
Yes, he most definitely wanted her.
On her terms or his. Didn’t matter. The love he had for her was all-encompassing. It was the kind that wouldn’t fade, the kind that weathered any storm and only got better with age like a fine French wine. Without her, he was nothing but a shell.
“I won’t wear any of Celeste’s,” she managed stiffly.
Logan took a sip of coffee before he troubled himself to reply. “I hate to break it to you, but Celeste has no clothes here.”
“I just assumed—”
“Then don’t. Celeste hates it out here. In fact, she’s only been here once.” And only for a few minutes at that, but he had a hard time admitting it even to himself.
Strange how he never noticed Celeste’s shortcomings except when Rue Ann was near.
And yet sometimes in the dark of night when only the sound of his beating heart broke the silence, when only God could hear his thoughts, he knew Celeste and he were very ill suited.
Rue Ann gripped the coffee cup with both hands. Probably so she wouldn’t wallop him, he surmised.
“Well ...” Her voice trailed off.
Would wonders never cease? He grinned. “Finish your coffee and you can change in the bedroom. Just don’t expect the clothes to fit. You’re much smaller than I am.” Not to mention having soft curves in all the right places.
“Your clothes?” she asked. “They’ll swallow me.”
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” he growled.
While she sat in front of the fire and enjoyed the rest of her coffee, he rummaged through his belongings and came up with some things she could wear. Then he hurriedly exchanged his wet clothes for dry ones before he turned over his bedroom to Rue Ann.
Logan felt like a new man. That rain had near frozen him. He picked up his wet clothes and went to get Rue Ann. Leaving her to some privacy, he stretched his clothes before the fire to dry, leaving plenty of room for hers.
Rue Ann wasted no time in getting out of her limp dress, chemise, and petticoats. She dried herself off and looked at the pair of faded long johns, trousers, a shirt, and a length of rope to cinch it all with that Logan had laid out. They wouldn’t come close to fitting, but maybe she could make do.
At least they’d be dry. She thanked God for that.
She held up the long johns and thought about leaving them off. But considering the chill bumps that were almost as big as goose eggs on her skin, they’d feel mighty good.
“Pride can’t keep you warm, you silly girl,” she whispered.
Minutes later, she looked at herself in the mirror, feeling like she’d been swallowed whole. With Logan considerably taller than her, she’d had to roll up the legs of the long johns and trousers by more than a foot. Thank goodness for the rope that kept the pants from falling down around her ankles. And the shirt must’ve been sewn for a giant.
She bent to gather up her wet clothes, but as she did so, she knocked off a book that she’d noticed on a little table beside the bed.
It was Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. She found it a little odd that he’d chosen a book about pirates. But then he’d always loved escaping into his imagination. And he’d always been a ferocious reader when he could afford books.
The leather-bound book had come open when she’d knocked it off, and something had flown out.
Rue Ann picked everything up and her breath caught when she saw the valentine and silhouette of herself she’d given Logan several years ago. When they were still sweethearts.
Tears filled her eyes as she ran her fingers across the words she’d scrawled: “I’ll love you forever.”
Funny how forever lasted only until he’d traded a future with her for her father’s money.
That knowledge brought waves of pain that made it difficult to draw in air.
Angrily wiping away her tears, she wondered why Logan had kept the token of her love. Why hadn’t he gotten rid of the items since she evidently meant so little to him?
All of a sudden the dog’s cries of distress penetrated the closed door. After putting the valentine and silhouette carefully inside the book and replacing all on the small table, she clutched her wet clothes and returned to the parlor.
She found Logan sitting on the floor beside Sheba. He looked up when she entered. Was that a look of expectation on his face? Mirth danced in his smoky gray eyes. “I was about to knock on the door and ask if you needed my help.”
“You know better than that.” But the thought of his big hands touching her bare skin brought hotness to her cheeks. She had to stop this nonsense here and now. The safest thing was to change the subject. “I heard the dog.”
He gently caressed Sheba’s head while the dog looked up at him adoringly. “Her pups have decided they want to make an appearance and meet the mother who nurtures them.”
“The poor dear.” Rue Ann laid her clothes down and joined Logan at the dog’s side. “What can we do? I’ve had pets for years at Bent Tree but never assisted in any births.”
“Nothing much to do except make her comfortable and let nature take its course.”
“Seems like we should—”
“Make tea or tat some lace for her?” Logan chuckled and gave her a lopsided grin.
Rue Ann hit him lightly on the upper arm. “Don’t be silly. Of course I know better than that.”
She’d noticed the solid feel of his muscled arm. And the way the firelight played with his hair, which was the color of dark, rich earth. If only ...
He grabbed his arm and feigned an injury. “You wound me.”
“I will for real if you don’t quit making fun of me.” She hoped the scowl hid the traitorous efforts of her mouth to smile. “I was about to say that we should make a warm nest, get her comfortable.”
“I think I have a box in the barn.” He got to his feet. “And I have plenty of old flannel to line it with. I’ll be right back.”
The storm chose that moment to intensify. Sheets of rain pounded on the tin roof, drowning out the sound of the kitchen door closing.
While she waited for him to return, Rue Ann stood and spread out her clothes to dry in front of the fire. The faster they dried, the faster she’d be able to leave when the storm moved out. She certainly wouldn’t dawdle. Her parents would be worried about her. If they—or Theodore—caught her here, it would be disastrous.
The dry clothes Logan had just put on were plastered to him by the time he hurried back in with the box. His breath came hard. He must’ve run every step of the way. He put the box down, then went into the bedroom a
nd came back with a length of an old soft flannel blanket. After arranging it inside the box to suit him, he carefully lifted Sheba into the warm bed. The dog chuffed softly as though to thank him.
Unshed tears stung Rue Ann’s eyes.
He’d braved the storm for a scared dog that no one else wanted. His unselfish caring touched something deep inside her.
“I’ll get more coffee,” she said, blinking hard. “You need some dry clothes before you get lung fever.”
Shivering, he handed his empty cup to her. “Sounds good.”
She padded to the kitchen. The bedroom door was still shut when she returned with two cups of Arbuckle.
At the rate they were going, he’d soon run out of clothes.
The clock on the mantel ticked off the minutes until he emerged. He thanked her, taking the hot brew she offered. Their hands touched and it was as though a bolt of lightning from outside ran up her arm.
Rue Ann jerked back and took a chair, as did Logan. He sipped on the coffee, his smoldering eyes never once leaving her face.
She fidgeted when he set his cup down and rose. He moved slowly toward her.
When he reached her, he placed a hand on either side of her and bent over until he was inches from her face. He’d trapped her. The panic that had been present from the moment she’d set foot in his house blossomed into full-fledged alarm. She cleared her throat awkwardly.
“Now that I have you where you can’t escape, lady, we need to talk.” Logan’s voice was as soft as velvet.
Chapter 8
Theodore Greely looked at the note in his hand. He was at a loss to explain why Celeste Wiggins had sent it.
Please come to my house immediately. We have things to talk about It’s quite urgent.
The note had arrived in the hands of a small boy a few minutes ago. Theodore had asked no questions.
Though he’d long admired the lovely Miss Wiggins, he’d never done more than exchange pleasantries. Now he found his pulse quickening in anticipation. Celeste was the most vivacious, most exciting woman he’d ever seen.
And she’d requested that he come to her home.
It was quite urgent, she said.
If he could steal her from under Cutter’s nose, he would in a heartbeat. It would serve the arrogant man right. To be able to shake Cutter’s confidence would bring him a great measure of satisfaction.
Theodore closed his eyes for a moment, imagining holding Celeste in his arms, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses down her long slender throat and across her generous bosom.
Oh, the joy!
Anticipation tingled in his stomach.
Sunday had never been his favorite day of the week ... until now.
He stopped in front of the watchmaker’s window to take stock of his appearance. His lip was still cut and a bit swollen from the uppercut Logan had given him the day that mangy cur had blocked his path. He wiggled his nose. It was sore. He didn’t suppose that would matter to Celeste, though, since she’d requested his company.
All of a sudden dark clouds blocked the sun and drew his attention to the skies. The air was thick with the smell of rain.
Theodore decided he’d better hurry before the deluge hit.
He lengthened his steps, attempting to whistle a jaunty tune. Except the notes came out all garbled because of his split lip.
“We have something else to settle between us, Cutter.”
Rue Ann moistened her dry lips. Logan was much too close. Her heart pounded like a thundering herd of spooked longhorn. “We have nothing at all to discuss, Cutter.”
“Oh, darlin’, you’re so mistaken.” His silky voice set pricklies bumping along her spine.
“What good is it going to do? How can it possibly change anything?”
“We’ll soon find out. You’re not leaving here, though, until you answer some questions.”
“You have things to answer for yourself,” she replied hotly, clinging to her anger. It would help her resist the magnetism that made her want to forget everything.
“What things? What have I done?”
“Quit pretending, Cutter.” She shoved him out of the way and jumped to her feet. “It’s a little late for pretense.”
“I’m guilty of nothing but loving you.”
How could he possibly love her after all that was said and done? Did he think she’d just forgive and forget?
“What I want to know is why your greed for money outweighed that love you so profess now.”
“Greed?” Logan shoved his hands through his damp hair. “What money?”
For a moment she almost believed his denial. His forehead wrinkled in thought, and the piercing gaze that never left her face seemed to back up his claim.
Rue Ann put her hands on her trousered hips. “Like you don’t know. I’m talking about the thousand dollars you took from my father. Money he paid you to walk away from me.” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears, the words bruised. “You can’t deny it. My father told me all about it.”
“Darlin’, you’d better get your facts straight. I didn’t take Devlin’s money. Sure, he offered it, but I told him what he could do with his money in no uncertain terms.”
“That’s what you expect me to believe?”
“Either you will or you won’t, but it’s the truth. I told him my love for you wasn’t for sale. Not for all the money and power your father has at his disposal.” He drew her into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head. The smell of wild Texas sage enveloped her. “I loved you then and I still love you now.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the familiar sound of his heartbeat, which she’d missed.
Logan felt so good, so right.
And she was so very tired of carrying her grudge.
Could he possibly be telling the truth?
Rue Ann wavered and she hated that he could make her doubt her father’s word. And she had overheard her father saying that Logan would never reveal whatever secret the two men kept.
She pushed out of his arms. “It’s all a little too convenient. I’m not the naïve girl you used to know. The hard lessons of life have taught me well. Tell me this ... how did you get the money to buy this ranch?”
Sudden anger swept Logan’s face. His smoky eyes became hard granite and as dark and dangerous as the storm clouds outside. He added another log to the fire. “I was in an awful state when you left without so much as a word. I didn’t care where I went or what I did. So after a couple of weeks passed, I saddled up and rode out.”
Logan checked on Sheba before he continued. “I ran across an old U.S. marshal friend of mine out on the trail. He was after a man who’d just murdered a family of six outside San Antone. Marshal Baker had taken ill and couldn’t continue the chase so he asked me if I would, said there was a sizable bounty on the murdering scoundrel’s head if I’d bring him in. I knew it’d be more than enough to buy this ranch, which I’d had my eye on for years. So I accepted the job and tracked down the jackal. I bought this ranch, end of story.”
Rue Ann stilled. He made it sound like nothing. A man who’d murdered six people must’ve fought with everything he had to stay free of the law. Logan could’ve been killed.
And if that had happened, they wouldn’t be having this conversation.
She believed his story. Her father had been the one who lied, not Logan. Devlin had come to her that night and told her Cutter had snapped up the money to walk away and not look back. Her father had laughed and said he’d been right about Cutter all along. He’d told her to pack her things because she’d leave for Chicago at daybreak in his private train car.
A groan escaped her lips. She’d been so gullible. Devlin Spencer had manipulated her every step of the way.
“I feel so stupid. But why didn’t you come to me and tell me what happened?”
Logan’s gray eyes turned to shades of charcoal in the dim light. “I tried. I went to Bent Tree and your mother met me at the door. She told me I’d just missed
you, said you’d left town and I shouldn’t bother to come back.”
“My mother?” Devlin must’ve repeated to her mother what he’d told Rue Ann. Rue Ann couldn’t imagine any other scenario. Jenny would never be involved in her husband’s lies.
“Yes. Your mother was the only person I saw at the ranch.”
Just then Sheba let out a sharp yelp. Rue Ann and Logan hurried to her. One of the puppies had entered the world. Over the next hour five more had joined their brother. Only one of the six puppies didn’t live.
Logan’s jaw tightened. The dead pup was most likely the result of the kick Teddy had delivered to Sheba’s side.
“It’s all right, girl.” He patted the dog’s head. “I’m so proud of you. You did real good.”
Sheba whimpered and licked his hand. Then she cleaned each of her babies and lay there patiently while the pups rooted for the teats. When the runt of the litter couldn’t locate one, Sheba nudged it into an empty spot.
Logan gently lifted the dead pup and wrapped it in one of the wet towels to bury later after the rain stopped.
“She’s going to be an excellent mother.” Rue Ann’s thick voice told him she was fighting emotion. Most likely she was thinking about losing her baby. He reached out a hand toward her but let it drop instead. He wouldn’t push her.
“Yes, she will,” Logan agreed. “Remember when we stretched out in a field of wildflowers and planned our future? We were going to have five kids if memory serves. Three boys and two girls.”
Wetness sparkled in Rue Ann’s emerald eyes. “We were going to name the first boy Spencer. Then would come Jenny, named after my mother.”
“Rue Ann, why didn’t you tell me you were in the family way when you left Shiloh? Did you think I wouldn’t have been a good father? Was that why you left?”
Pure shock crossed her beautiful features. “What are you talking about? Me? In the family way?”
“That’s what your father told me a few days after you disappeared. He said he’d sent you away to have the baby. He laughed and told me I’d never find you.” He rubbed the nightmare from his eyes. “The good Lord knows I tried, though. I traveled from town to town searching.”
