by Renee Ryan
Her eyes fluttered shut and she sighed. Something intense, almost dark ran though him at the happy sound.
He brought her knuckles toward his lips but stopped midway when he caught sight of her blackened fingertips smudged with charcoal. Was his plan working? Was she getting closer to discovering the identity of Kincaid’s killer through her drawing?
“You’ve been busy this morning.”
She grimaced. “I’ve attempted a few drawings.”
Everything in him froze at the dejected angle of her shoulders. “Attempted? Does that mean you haven’t completed a drawing yet?”
“Not one.” Her tone told him how frustrated she was.
“Do you have your sketch pad with you now?”
She nodded.
“Maybe something will capture your imagination out on the range.”
She made a noncommittal sound in her throat. He could tell the subject upset her so he let it drop and steered the wagon toward the north range.
Megan, for her part, studied the passing scenery in silence. A band of thunderclouds rumbled in the distance, but they would probably stall over the mountain peaks as they usually did this time of year.
Just in case, Logan redirected the wagon, turning the horse in the direction of the small guest cabin built for shelter during storms or other mishaps. He watched to see if Megan noticed the thunderheads in the sky.
As if sensing his eyes on her, she turned in his direction. She looked at him as though she had something important on her mind but wasn’t sure how to say it. “Will you tell me about your brother?” she asked.
Everything in him froze and his skin turned ice-cold. “Which one?”
“The one nobody ever mentions.”
He went numb at the question, but his shock was tempered with a strong desire to share his burden with the one person he trusted the most in the world. How could he expect her to trust him if he didn’t trust her?
Drawing in a slow breath, he fixed a blank expression on his face. “How much do you know about him already?”
“Not much. I know he’s not dead, but something bad happened, something that upsets your parents greatly.”
Logan nodded. “He’s an outlaw, Megan. A gunslinger.”
“How can that be, when your family follows the Lord so faithfully?” Her brows pulled together. “There’s certainly no lack of love in your household. Your younger brothers are a bit unruly. But they’re full of mischief, not evil.”
Logan wasn’t surprised Megan was confused. Hunter had confused all of them through the years. “Maybe something inherent in Hunter made him go bad.” Logan allowed his mind to drift back in time, to the days when he and Hunter were boys. “There were signs of his lack of conscience even back then.”
“Signs?”
“He bored easily. When Hunter grew bored he took mischief to a whole new level. Often at the expense of others, never considering the consequences.” Logan swallowed. His voice became a strangled whisper as he told her about the time Hunter had thrown a rock at Callie’s head. “She was only five at the time.”
“Oh, dear.”
“When he was told to apologize, he claimed it was an accident and thus there was no need for an apology. Maybe that sort of lack of conscience was in his blood all along. Maybe bad blood runs in all of us, but only Hunter tapped into it.”
“I don’t believe bad blood runs in families.” Megan’s soft hand closed over his arm. “If that were true, I would have followed in my mother’s footsteps long ago.”
He turned to look at her. He needed to look at her. Their gazes locked, held. A thousand words passed between them without a sound. “Your situation is different,” he said at last.
“How?”
He broke eye contact and focused on steering the wagon over a rocky ridge. “It just is.”
“Logan, my mother chose her lifestyle because that’s the one she wanted.” Megan adopted a breezy tone, as if to deflect the seriousness of the situation. “She surrounded herself with others who chose similar lifestyles. I suppose it was easier for her that way. She needed to be among people living the same way she did.”
“Bad company corrupts good character, is that what you’re saying?”
“I suppose so. But it can go both ways. All of us want to be around people who think and act like we do. Outlaws surround themselves with outlaws. Christians surround themselves with Christians. It’s hard to step away from that.” She looked out over the scenery once more, deep in thought. “I know I’m that way. There were times when I had to force myself to walk into Mattie’s and read to the women who choose to live so differently from me.”
Logan wasn’t sure what he heard in her voice? Sorrow? Guilt? “Do you ever regret going into Mattie’s?”
She didn’t answer right away, but continued looking out over the land. “I don’t know. I’d like to say no, I don’t regret offering what comfort I can to someone in need. I’d like to say serving fulfills me, and despite what happened to me that night I’d still go back. But I just don’t know.”
Logan wanted to tell her he didn’t want her to walk into Mattie’s ever again, but he wasn’t sure that was right thinking. Maybe serving the Lord wasn’t supposed to be easy or comfortable or safe. Maybe serving the Lord was messy and dangerous because life was messy and dangerous.
When Logan shared his thoughts aloud, Megan didn’t argue but turned quiet, thoughtful. “I think you might be right. I can’t allow one incident to scare me off.”
“No, you can’t.” He reached over and patted her hand. “That would go against the Megan I know.”
She pulled her hand away and shook her head fiercely, as if trying to rid her mind of the disturbing thoughts their conversation had stirred up.
“When did your brother leave home?” she asked. “Was it right after he hit your sister with the rock?”
The quick change of subject took Logan off guard, but only for a moment. “No, but not long after that. It’s been ten years since he left. He and I had a fight.” Logan instinctively battled against the memory but it came anyway. “I don’t remember what we argued about, probably something insignificant. But Hunter’s anger had a different feel to it that night. Fists flew. Hard words were exchanged. The next morning he was gone.” Logan pulled the wagon to a halt fifty yards shy of the cabin. He hadn’t realized they’d covered so much ground. “He never returned.”
“Was that the last time you ever saw him?”
“No.” Logan stared straight ahead, remembering the last time he’d seen Hunter had been right before he’d become a deputy marshal. “Our paths crossed about a year later. Not that Hunter would remember. He was passed out drunk in a brothel.”
“Glory.” It wasn’t shock Logan heard in Megan’s voice, but compassion. “Did you try to sober him up? See what had gone so wrong to send him into such a state?”
Shamed by her questions, Logan lowered his head and fiddled with the reins still in his hands. “I left him there to rot in his own sin.”
The words came out harsh and surprisingly regretful.
Looking back, Logan realized how selfish and self-righteous his response had been. He should have tried harder to reach out to Hunter. At the time Logan had been too angry, too humiliated that his own brother had sunk so low. A part of him had also been afraid he’d end up like his brother if he got too close.
“I failed him.” He knew that now, accepted it.
“Oh, Logan.” Megan’s voice held nothing but understanding. “You were so young.”
Yes, he’d been young, not yet twenty, but did that absolve him? Hunter was his brother. He’d abandoned the man without a single thought. As he’d just told Megan, life was messy. People were messy. And family was often the messiest of them all.
“I left home soon after that night,” he said. “I needed to leave, needed to work out my own convictions in my own way.”
A clap of thunder shook the air. Logan looked to the sky, glad for the distraction swee
ping in overhead. He’d miscalculated the clouds. They were upon them. “Rain’s coming in fast.”
With a tender smile, she reached up and smoothed her fingers across his forehead. “Then we better find shelter fast.”
Her touch raised a powerful reaction in him. Hunter was no longer foremost in Logan’s mind. A wistful longing for his wife pulsed through him. “Follow me.” He helped her out of the wagon. “The cabin’s just over there.”
The first raindrop plopped at Megan’s feet. A crack of thunder soon followed. Three more drops landed in succession on her nose and then the clouds let loose. The scent of rain carried a strong hint of grass and earth.
“Hurry, Megan.” Logan hugged her to him, taking the weight off her ankle.
Two more steps and he scooped her into his arms. They were soaked to the bone after three more steps. Megan could feel the tension in Logan. Speaking of his brother had left him sad.
Hustling inside the cabin, Logan shut the door behind them with the heel of his boot.
He set her feet on the ground then stepped back.
Megan wrapped her arms around her middle and blinked into the dark. The smell of ash from a recently extinguished fire hit her first, before her eyes had a chance to adjust.
“Wait here.” Logan swerved past her. He made quick work of lighting a lantern then turned his attention to the fireplace. Checking the pile of wood next to the hearth, he nodded in satisfaction.
“I’ll get a fire started right away. But first…” He pulled a blanket off the sofa and wrapped it around her shoulders.
She tried not to shiver from his touch.
Looking distracted, he dropped an impersonal kiss on her cheek then crossed to the fireplace again.
While Logan built a fire, Megan moved deeper into the cabin. The room was a nice size, not too small, not too large. The furniture was large and bulky with lots of blankets thrown over the edges. The rugs looked well-worn, the colors a nice blend of browns and deep blues.
“What is this cabin used for?”
“We originally built it in case we ever got stuck out on the range during the spring roundup,” he said over his shoulder. “There’s another one in the south pastures. We only use the cabins if the weather isn’t suited for sleeping outside.”
“Has someone stayed here lately?”
“Possibly.” He rose, stared into the small fire cracking to life then turned and grabbed another blanket. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know.” She looked around, took note of the way the furniture had been moved to face the fireplace and how the stove looked recently clean yet the smell of food lingered in the air. “It feels…” She searched for the right words. “This cabin feels lived-in.”
Logan circled his gaze around the room. “Could have been one of the ranch hands out mending fences.” His eyes narrowed. “Or a squatter.”
A squatter?
As though sensing her alarm, Logan wrapped the additional blanket around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”
She shivered anyway.
“No one will harm you here,” he said. “You’re safe with me. We’re completely alone.”
Oh, yes, they were alone, with nothing but the rain to keep them company. No longer concerned with squatters, a plan formed in her mind, one that involved a little action on her part.
Could she be so bold?
Megan trembled at the possibilities.
Misunderstanding her reaction, Logan stepped away from her. “You’re cold. We need to get you out of those wet clothes.”
Ah, the perfect opening. “Or maybe—” she closed the distance between them again “—we should both get out of our wet clothes.”
Before Logan could respond she laced her fingers behind his head and urged his lips toward her. He remained perfectly still, praying for strength, but then Megan pressed her mouth harder against his.
Something in him broke.
He gripped her shoulders, deepened the kiss, then tore his mouth away and set her out of his reach.
“Logan,” she whispered.
“It’s hot in here.” He looked desperately around him, pulled on his collar, ran his hand through his hair. “Really, really hot.”
“Logan? Have I done something wrong?”
“No. I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out…uh, outside.”
“But it’s raining.”
Yes, it was. Logan looked everywhere but at his wife. If he looked at her, if he stayed in this cabin one more minute, he was going to do something both of them would regret. Megan more than him.
He headed for the door. “I’ll be back,” he repeated.
“Logan, please.” Her voice shook. “Don’t leave like this.”
“I have to.” He couldn’t hold on to his control much longer. He needed air. He needed distance.
He needed to keep his back to her as long as possible. No eye contact.
“Is it me? Do you not find me pretty?”
He heard the hurt in her voice and it nearly broke his heart. “I think you’re beautiful.”
“Then, tell me what I did wrong.”
He spun back around and sucked in his breath at her hurt expression. The one he’d caused. He pulled her against him. “No. No, Megan, you didn’t do anything wrong. You have no idea how badly I want you.” The admission slid past his lips before he could stop it. “I ache for you.”
She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “Then make me your wife.”
“I…can’t.”
She angled her head to look at him. Her blue eyes brimmed with hurt and confusion. “I don’t understand why you’re refusing to be with me.”
He cupped her cheek and his whole body shook from the effort to maintain his self-control. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than you’ve already been hurt.”
“You couldn’t possibly. I trust you, Logan.”
The exact words he needed to hear, but he could not relent. He touched the wound at her neck. Purple bruising surrounded the angry red slash of skin. “I can’t risk making matters worse for you.”
She shoved out of his embrace. “I won’t break. Stop treating me like I will. I’m strong.”
His father had said the same thing, but Logan couldn’t take that risk. Even if Megan looked angrier than he’d ever seen her, a fact that evaporated the breath in his lungs, he was not going to relent.
“Sometimes, I think…” She stomped away from him then swung back around. “Do you love me, Logan?”
“Yes, of course, I love you.” A surge of distress made his declaration sound like an accusation. “I would do anything to protect you, even lay down my life.”
She lowered her head and sighed. “Wanting to protect me isn’t the same as loving me.”
“It is the same.” He practically growled the words at her. How could she not understand? “One cannot exist without the other.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Even to his own ears, his argument sounded less convincing than before.
His control was slipping.
“How do you know you’ll hurt me?”
Of their own volition, his hands reached to her.
When he gripped her waist, he lowered his forehead to hers. “I can’t risk making you my wife, Megan. Not when it could have devastating consequences.”
His words held no conviction now. She was in his arms, practically reclining against him and all he could think was how good it felt having her close, how right.
She fit perfectly in his arms. The light in the cabin took on a golden glow.
“Oh, Logan. What if…” She boldly pulled his head toward hers, but didn’t press her lips against his. He could feel the whisper of her breath on his face. Something more than desire spread through him. Warmth, homecoming, wholeness.
She combed her fingers through his hair. “What if it…our being together…helps?”
Before
he lost all control, Logan gazed into Megan’s beautiful blue eyes. This was the woman he’d adored since he was more boy than man. He loved her desperately and wanted to be with her for a lifetime. They would build a family together, starting today.
The soft look in her eyes told him she wanted him in the same way.
He gently kissed her lips and the rightness of his decision washed over him. He would do the right thing here, the godly thing. He would finally make Megan his wife.
Chapter Nineteen
The afternoon passed in a pleasant blur. If Logan had only himself to consider, he and Megan would have stayed in the cabin long after the rain had stopped. But his wife needed a hot bath and dry clothing far more than she needed another round of—
He cut off his train of thoughts and focused on the fatigue he saw in her eyes. The fatigue she’d just tried to deny when he’d ushered her out of the cabin and helped her into the wagon.
At least she waited to reopen the argument until after he’d settled in beside her on the seat.
“I’m really quite fine, Logan.” Her voice carried a pleasant, husky tone, making her sound sleepy and satisfied and altogether lovely. “It won’t be dark for hours. Couldn’t we stay a little while longer?”
The selfish part of him wanted to do exactly what she suggested. But he couldn’t. They couldn’t. “Please, Megan.” He gripped the reins until the leather bit into the flesh of his palms. “Humor me this one time.”
Before she could argue again, he leaned over and kissed her full on the lips.
She relaxed into him and made a soft sound deep in her throat, which brought on a whole new collection of ideas. Ideas that had nothing to do with returning to the main house and everything to do with walking back into that cabin with her in his arms.
By the grace of God, Logan broke the kiss.
Megan leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. He loved that sound, had heard it often in the last few hours and would love to hear it some more.
No.
He flicked the reins and set the wagon in motion.
