“You were always more hers than his.”
There was no point in arguing that fact. From an early age, Logan had known the way to get what he wanted was through his mother. Just as he’d accepted that his father expected Carter to take over the reins of the ranch.
“Why the military?” Carter asked.
“I set out for Texas intending to sign on to a ranch and earn enough money to get started. But the second night I was on the road, I went to this little bar outside of the town where I’d stopped. There was this guy in a wheelchair. We got to talking. He’d been a Marine, lost both his legs due to an IED. That’s—”
“Improvised explosive device.” Logan stared at his brother as Carter shoved aside his empty bowl. “I always wondered if you’d come across one.”
“Everyone comes across them, they’re all over the damn place.” Logan paused, then shook his head. “Anyway . . . this guy, he talked about how proud he was to have served his country, what it was like to be overseas, and how he missed the guys he’d been stationed with. There I was, still steamed about that last fight with the old man, feeling kinda sorry for myself to be honest, and here was this guy who’d lost so much. Yet he claimed he’d go back in a heartbeat.” Logan shrugged. “I enlisted the next morning.”
“Did you ever regret it?”
“Sometimes. I wished I’d been here to have a chance to fix things with Dad.” He gave his brother a half-hearted grin. “I even missed you a time or two.”
“I’m proud of what you’ve done.” Logan could only stare at his brother in stunned silence as Carter rose and walked to the sink. “You remember Dwight Davis?”
It took a minute to make the conversation switch, let alone connect the name with someone from the past. “You went to school with him.”
“He took over the feed store. Has a little girl now, not quite seven. Brittany. Girl wants to be a barrel racer. But Dwight’s wife’s been sick.”
Carter looked over, and Logan saw the worry they’d known when their mother had been sick. “Kathy had cancer a while back. In remission they say, but she’s still on the weak side, so Dwight doesn’t like to leave her alone much. Anyway,”—Carter turned on the water to rinse his bowl—“he’d probably appreciate it if you spent some time with his girl, see if she’s any good and if there’s anything you can do for her.” He tilted his head a little, his version of a shrug.
“After we finish up the morning chores,” Carter continued. “We could spend a couple of hours getting the old corral back in working order. The fence has a couple of rails that need to be replaced.”
Carter didn’t look at him, just kept running water in his bowl. Logan found it necessary to wash down the sudden constriction in his throat with the last of his milk. He had no idea whether or not he would seriously follow through on this opportunity. But he also wasn’t about to turn away from his brother’s offer—an offer that went deeper than a suggestion to help out a friend.
“That’d be great,” he finally said.
IT WASN’T THE first time Kendall had worked her shift after a few short, fragmented hours of sleep. It was, however, the first time her tired thoughts revolved around a man rather than a sick daughter.
It didn’t help any that Marissa had asked at least a dozen times when could they drive out to Logan’s ranch and see the horses. His brother’s ranch, Kendall immediately corrected. It would do her more pain than good to think of the Montgomery ranch in any way, shape, or form as Logan’s.
Not that Marissa had much interest in Logan. All she’d talked about was the chance to see and, with a sly glance at her mother, maybe ride a horse. When Kendall had mentioned Logan by name, Marissa had wrinkled her nose and said she didn’t think he was very nice.
Kendall had been conflicted about Marissa’s comment. On the one hand, she liked that he hadn’t made such a sterling first impression on her daughter. Their daughter, she could practically hear him correcting. On the other hand, it bothered her that Marissa had that negative impression. It wasn’t like her baby to be so critical about someone she’d just met.
Yet, Kendall admitted she’d used Logan’s five-year absence and his eventual leaving at every turn. As she completed her shift, she also acknowledged—at least to herself—that she’d done so as much to protect her heart as to protect her daughter’s sensitive feelings.
It had been foolish to think she could see him again and not feel something. After all, he was the only lover she’d known. The feminine side of her that had been tamped down beneath a mother’s duty had suddenly sprung to life with one look at him. Standing in her bedroom with her arms around him had done little to subdue or pacify those feelings.
Years ago, it had been a girl who’d turned to him, a girl who’d wanted to feel the comfort and excitement of his arms, his touch, his kiss. Last night, it had been a woman who’d stood within the circle of his arms and trembled, as she had all those years ago, with the desire to toss aside caution and pride. Even as she’d fought him as a mother, she’d wanted the opportunity to be intimate with him again.
One lesson she’d learned, been forced to learn the last five years, was a person didn’t always get what she wanted. Could she free the passion and need she’d only known with Logan? Could she risk her heart being trampled if he left her behind again? If she took that chance, would she be able to protect Marissa in the process?
When she spotted a man slapping a young boy, she focused on a different type of protection.
Kendall identified the two figures as she brought the car to a stop outside The Pit, an aptly-named bar on the west side of town. Lloyd Miller and Robbie Patterson stood beneath the front door overhang, watching as she called in and alerted Dispatch to her location and situation.
Everyone in town knew The Pit was where you came if you wanted pills, illegal drugs, to place a bet, or buy sex by the hour. So far the Sheriff’s Department hadn’t been able to catch and hold the owner, Lloyd Miller, for anything more than suspicion.
What few people in town understood was Robbie Patterson’s obvious devotion to Lloyd. Robbie didn’t work for Lloyd, although she knew for a fact that Lloyd often used their so-called friendship to get Robbie to run errands for him. Because she and Robbie had attended school at the same time, Kendall knew Robbie had Asperger’s and suspected the syndrome traits contributed to the relationship. Although she had yet to prove it, she believed Robbie’s lack of social skills, not to mention his superior math ability, were tools Lloyd used for his own benefit. Recently she’d been questioning if Lloyd had found a way to take advantage of the fact that Robbie’s father was the town’s lone pharmacist.
“Hey Robbie,” she called as she shut her car door and made her way closer to where the two men stood. Robbie flinched as though she’d shouted. He’d never liked loud noises. “How are you today?” she asked, making an effort to lower her voice.
“I am doing very well today, thank you for asking.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh as if entering numbers on a calculator while he stared down at his shoes.
“I’m crushed that you didn’t ask how I’m doing, Deputy,” Lloyd said, shooting her a smile that had a shiver skating down her spine.
“I don’t care how you’re doing.” She stepped up closer, bent her knees a little to get a better look at Robbie. His right cheek had a red streak across it. Anger flared within her, had her looking up so she could stare at Lloyd. “I should take you in for this.”
“For what?” Lloyd asked in all innocence. He actually spread his hands out as if inviting her to check them. “Robbie and I were just having a chat. Isn’t that right, Robbie?”
“My good friend Lloyd and I were having a conversation.”
“There’s no trouble here at all.”
“There is no trouble here,” Robbie repeated. “No trouble.”
Kendal
l stared at Lloyd, seething with frustration. She could do nothing, had no cause for doing anything more than walking away.
As if he knew exactly what she thought and how she felt, Lloyd grinned. “Well, if there’s nothing else, Deputy, Robbie and I’ll head back inside.”
“One of these days, Lloyd, you’re going to get so cocky that you’ll make a mistake.” She leaned forward ever so slightly, staring into his cold eyes. “I really hope I’m around when that happens.”
He closed a little more of the gap between them, and Kendall stiffened her stance so as not to recoil from the stale stench of cigarettes on his breath. Her stomach lurched, and she tightened her throat to keep the bile down.
“Any time you want to come around me, baby, you’re welcome to do just that.” He had the audacity to lower his gaze and then bring it, slowly, back up, touching on every intimate part of her body. “I’ll always find time for you.”
Before she could unleash her temper and say, or do, something she would regret, a truck rolled over the gravel. Logan wasted no time exiting as soon as the truck parked.
Kendall’s heart jolted hard at the sight of him wearing the old, familiar cowboy hat low on his brow. From the dark shadow on his jaw, he hadn’t shaved this morning. In a fanciful moment, she pictured herself and Logan as town sheriff and gunslinger about to draw at twenty paces.
“Logan Montgomery,” Lloyd exclaimed, taking a step back while shooting a speculative glance at Kendall. She schooled her features to give away nothing. “Heard you’d come back.”
“Back and thirsty,” Logan said as he stepped onto the wooden walk in front of the old building. He didn’t so much as give Kendall a glance. “I’ve been over at the feed store checking on some business. Thought I’d stop by for a drink before I head home.”
“And as a veteran, the first drink is on the house.” With another quick glance in Kendall’s direction, Lloyd turned and opened the door.
“I’ll take it.”
“Good.” Lloyd grinned over his shoulder at Logan. “Maybe we can find some other welcome home celebration that you’d like to partake of as well.”
Robbie followed Lloyd inside, giving Logan only enough time to slow his steps and speak to her in a low voice that nonetheless conveyed annoyance and a promise that bordered on a threat. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Chapter Three
“WHY NOT?”
Kendall bit down on her bottom lip as she opened the front door and waited to follow Marissa into the house. If she heard that question one more time today . . .
“Why not, Mamma?”
“I don’t have time to take you out there.”
“But he said we could come.”
“And we will go.” Maybe, unless she could find a way to avoid it. “Just not right today.”
“Why not?”
“He’s not at the ranch.” He’s at a bar, drinking, enjoying all the attention. No doubt especially the attention of the kind of women who associate with Lloyd Miller and The Pit.
“I need to put this away.” She headed to her bedroom, went through the routine of securing her gun. She turned back to find Marissa in the doorway, just as she’d found Logan there last night.
“You could call him.” Marissa stood with her hands on her hips in a defiant stance. “I want to go and see the horses.”
“And I want two minutes of you being quiet and leaving me alone. Is that too much to ask?”
Kendall winced at the sudden silence that followed her outburst, in that ever-so-brief instant before she heard her daughter suck in a breath. Before she saw her baby’s lips quiver and her hazel eyes glaze with tears. It was so rare for Kendall to lose her temper and snap at Marissa. It was every bit as unusual for Marissa to whine and continue to beg for something after being told no the first time.
“I’m sorry, baby.” She crossed the room and knelt down in front of her daughter.
“You yelled at me.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” She lifted a hand and stroked it over Marissa’s cheek, caught a teardrop on the tip of her finger.
“You were yelling last night.” Her daughter reached out and stroked her finger over Kendall’s badge. The familiar gesture warmed her, eased some of the guilt of having lost her temper.
She leaned forward, pressed a kiss on Marissa’s forehead. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you, Mamma.”
“How about if we just have hot dogs and chips for dinner?” she suggested, ignoring the fact that guilt led her to make the offer. After all, it wasn’t Marissa who was the problem; it was Kendall’s conflicted feelings about Logan.
“We’ll spread a blanket on the floor; it’ll be like a picnic. Or maybe grilled cheese sandwiches.” And fruit, she thought, searching her mind for an inventory of what was stocked in the pantry. Fruit was almost as good as a vegetable. “We’ll watch one of your videos while we eat.”
She scooped up Marissa, started for the kitchen. “Then I’ll read you the two new books you got from the library.” Provided her eyes didn’t cross from fatigue.
She rolled her neck on her shoulders and dreamed of having the luxury and freedom to take a long, hot bubble bath. She’d just have to make do with a pot of coffee until Marissa was sound asleep. Chores would wait until later, too. Such was her life.
“Can we go see the horses tomorrow?”
“Marissa.” With a slight laugh, Kendall stopped and again pressed her forehead to her daughter’s. “You have such a one-track mind.”
“I’ll be good.”
“You’re always good.” What the hell, she decided. She would risk Marissa getting attached to Logan in order to give her daughter this one small pleasure. Before she could promise to call Logan, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it.” Marissa tried to jump out of Kendall’s arms.
“You will not, young lady. What have I told you about opening the door?”
“It’s probably Audra.” Marissa gave her mother a hopeful look. “Maybe she could take me to see the horses.”
“Nice try, kiddo, but no.” Kendall checked the peephole and then blinked in surprise. She should have known he wouldn’t follow her directive—her demand—that he clear a visit with her before showing up. She’d also believed he would be at The Pit most of the night.
He jabbed the button for the doorbell again.
“Looks like you’ll have the chance to ask Logan about the horses,” she said.
Ignoring the worry behind her daughter’s tightened grip, Kendall opened the door. As she’d expected, the impatience on Logan’s face faded as soon as he discovered her holding Marissa.
“This is a surprise,” she made herself say in a light tone. “I thought you’d be with your buddy, Lloyd, most of the night.”
“He’s not my buddy, and he’s not yours either.”
“If you’ve been drinking . . .”
“I had one beer.”
She hated the jealousy that burned in her throat, but she couldn’t keep it contained. “And what else did you have?”
He stared at her, his gaze conveying his understanding of her question. “There was nothing else there that interested me,” he stated in a low tone of voice more suited to shared intimacy than denial.
“I might have fallen for that line five . . . a few years ago, but I’m not as gullible now.”
“Then we’ve both changed, because I’ve learned what’s worth having and what’s not.” He leaned forward, enough that she could smell the fresh soap of a recent shower. She realized now that he wore different clothes than he had earlier. Beneath the snug T-shirt she saw the outline of his dog tags, an unwelcome reminder. “And that’s no line.”
Her heart pounded, not because she believed him but because her heart thrilled with the possib
ility.
“What the hell were you doing there anyway?” Logan demanded.
“My job.” Her chin came up. “What were you doing there?”
“Are you going to be mean to my mamma again?”
Kendall watched Logan struggle to pull his heated gaze away from hers. “No, Marissa, I’m not.” He managed a smile as he lifted the box in his right hand. “I’m here to see if I can find someone to share this pizza and some soft drinks with me.”
“We’re having an inside picnic with hot dogs and chips.” She slanted her mother a look. “And I’m not ’pose to have soda.”
“Oh.” The way he worked to hold back his disappointment was comical really, bringing back memories of spending time with him at summer barbeques and at Founder’s Day activities.
“Logan doesn’t like hot dogs,” she told Marissa and then, despite her reservations and caution, took pity on the man. “C’mon in. Our hot dogs can hold until another night.” She nuzzled noses with Marissa. “And you can have half a soda.”
Marissa scrambled out of Kendall’s arms as Logan stepped inside and moved to place the pizza box on the coffee table. With his hands free of his offerings, he didn’t seem to know what to do with them. Finally he stuck them in the back pocket of his jeans and cocked a hip to alter his stance. Kendall really wished he’d made some other choice. He looked a little too dangerous, and much too appealing, standing there in worn denim stretched across those male hips with that all-too-enticing glint in his eyes.
“I keep catching up with you as you come home from work,” he commented.
“When you’re a single mother you still work once you’re home.”
“Something I can do to help?”
“You already did by saving me from having to cook.”
He looked over to where Marissa played with a basket of toys. He smiled a little at the way she pretended one of her dolls rode a plastic horse. The image squeezed Kendall’s heart so hard she pressed a fist between her breasts. How many nights would she remember this moment, see the two of them standing so close and yet separated by more than simple distance, and yearn for more?
Cowboy On Her Doorstep (Montgomery Brothers Book 1) Page 4
