Kendall lifted a hand to rub her suddenly throbbing temple, the action apparently catching Audra’s attention. Over Marissa’s bent head, Audra cocked hers, and made a quick jerk in the direction of the house. Kendall understood she was to retreat. With a faint smile, she stepped back. Deciding to take advantage of this rare luxury, Kendall headed for her tiny bathroom.
She stood beneath the hot spray of the shower until the water ran tepid. She consciously and deliberately took the time to rub scented moisturizer on her skin, took extra care with the light application of makeup, and spritzed on some perfume. At her closet, however, she came to a stop, questioned what she should wear. Did she go for something softer, more feminine in the choice of a simple dress? Or did she hide behind the cloak of friendship with her usual jeans and a plain shirt?
She jumped when the door to her bedroom crashed open. “Mamma, you’re home.”
“Young lady,” Kendall said, bringing Marissa to an abrupt halt. “What have I told you about closed doors?”
Marissa hung her head, dug the toe of her tennis shoe into the carpet. “I’m not ’posed to come inside until I’m told I can.”
Kendall knelt down, held out her arms. “Come give me a hug, then go out into the hall and we’ll try again.”
Marissa ran into her arms. “Why do I hafta to go back if I give you a hug already?”
“So I can have another hug.” She squeezed her daughter hard, and, as usual, everything inside of her settled.
“You smell good, Mamma.”
“Tell you what, after we go through the manners lesson again, I’ll let you wear some of my perfume so you can smell good too.”
Ten minutes later they walked into the kitchen. Audra stared over the rim of her lifted tea cup. “Date?”
Kendall brushed a nervous hand down the short length of the khaki skirt she’d paired with a three-quarter length sleeve blouse. “Logan’s coming to dinner.”
“Is he bringing his horse?” Marissa asked and then frowned. “It’s girls’ night.”
“Oh.”
She’d forgotten about their weekly ritual of dinner together followed by a movie. Because Audra wanted to work on rebuilding her self-confidence, she only allowed herself to depend on Kendall and Marissa one night a week—provided Kendall’s schedule allowed it—for dinner and companionship. Due to Audra’s talent and growing reputation with her pottery creations, she’d recently signed up for a business class sponsored by the Chamber of Commerce to learn more about selling on the internet.
“Stay.” Kendall’s hand shot out to grip Audra’s when her friend set down the tea cup and started to rise. “I invited him because he’s a friend.” Her smile quivered when the doorbell rang. She squeezed Audra’s hand, taking a quick glance to make sure Marissa couldn’t overhear. “And I promise he’ll do nothing to make you uncomfortable.” Audra nodded, reluctantly, but Kendall knew she’d stay. “C’mon, sweetie,” she called out to her daughter.
Her heart settled a little as she crossed the small house with Marissa keeping pace beside her. Then she opened the door, and it felt like a ton of bricks had dropped down to the pit of her stomach.
He carried flowers, a mixed bouquet that you could pick up at the grocery store. Still, he’d taken the time to stop. “I thought about wine,” he said, smiling as he offered the cellophane-wrapped stems. She accepted the offering, and he curled his fingers around hers, held on for a moment. “You didn’t say what you planned to cook.”
“It’s girls’ night,” Marissa declared.
Kendall frowned along with Logan. She stared as he hunkered down to a four-year-old eye level, using his thumb to tip his cowboy hat back on his head. “Does that mean you want me to leave?”
Her daughter, their daughter, studied him for a long time. It was so like him to give her the choice. “Mamma said you’re her friend. Audra’s her friend and mine.” She looked up at her mother and back at Logan. “I could be your friend.”
Kendall had never been more proud of her daughter than at this moment. She watched as Logan’s eyes closed, as he struggled with emotions she couldn’t begin to label.
“I’d love to be your friend, Marissa.”
“Okay.” She rose up on her toes so she could peek over his shoulders. When she stumbled a bit, he steadied her with his hands on her waist. “Did you bring your horse?”
He laughed, a short choked sound as he tried to keep up with the rapid-fire change of topic. “No, but I have something that you can use for now.” His hand stretched just out of sight on the front stoop and came back with an old-fashioned stick horse, complete with a rope mane and jeweled eyes. “Let me show you.” With gentle hands he guided her legs over the long stick portion, showed her how to hold the plastic reins. “See, while you run you can pretend you’re riding a horse.”
“Does this mean I don’t get to come see the real horses?”
Logan looked at Kendall. She shrugged and told herself that her words applied only to their daughter, not to whatever might develop between them. “I tried to tell you not to make a promise that you can’t or won’t keep.”
“You can still come,” he said looking back at Marissa.
“Why don’t you go show Audra your stick horse?” Kendall suggested. She waited until Marissa did so. “Logan.” He straightened and placed his hat next to her purse and Marissa’s backpack on the bench she kept by the door. “I know you’ll watch her, but isn’t she a little small to be around the horses?”
“I was around them younger than her.”
“You were never as little as her.” He grinned at the absurdity of her comment. “Besides, you grew up on the ranch.” She made a vague gesture with her hand, blinked when Logan caught it in his. “She doesn’t have any fear.”
“I’ll watch her.” He tilted his head a little, in acceptance. “And you’ll be there to watch both of us.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”
“No, it’s better if you’re there.” He glanced over to the doorway where they could hear Marissa’s voice. “She’ll be more comfortable if you are.” He turned back, and the dark look in his eyes had her taking an instinctive step back. His fingers tightened, keeping her from breaking free. “And I’d like for you to be there.”
“I don’t have a day off until early next week.”
“Then it’s a date.” He lifted her hand, pressed his lips to the exact spot on her wrist where she felt nerves throbbing. “We’ll make a day of it.”
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Making plans.” He stepped back. “What’s for dinner?”
Audra was slicing vegetables when they walked into the kitchen. Kendall watched her friend’s hand on the knife hesitate, then resume the rhythmic motion. Introductions were made as Kendall arranged the flowers in a vase. Logan suggested he take Marissa outside.
Through the screen door, Kendall watched Logan arrange items to represent barrels. He walked beside Marissa while she rode her pretend pony around them. Kendall watched, her throat going dry at the way Logan moved, at the strength and power in his arms, the fluid grace of his legs. She recalled the feel of that strength under her exploring fingertips, at the weight of his body pressing down on hers. The power of his muscles rippling along his back as he thrust inside her.
Heaven help her. Contrary to all the reasons why not, oblivious to the complications it would create, she wanted to know all that, feel all that, and more, once again. Okay, maybe more than once. Was it wrong to want that? To want to know she was wanted in return? To simply feel for the moment and not worry about the future?
“He moves well.”
Surprised by the observation, and vaguely embarrassed by her thoughts, Kendall glanced at Audra. Determined to keep the mood light, she sent her friend a wicked grin. “You think so?”
“Just because I don’t want to be touched, doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy looking.” Still it was a monumental step for Audra to even voice the thought. “Here.” She shoved a wine glass into Kendall’s hand. “Go outside and watch him and your daughter.”
“But dinner.”
“Sure.” Audra surprised her further with a small laugh. “Because you’ve been such a help so far.” She took Kendall by the arm, walked her over to the back door, and nudged her out. “Go on.”
She sat on the back step, enjoyed a rare glass of wine and the laughter of her little girl. Along with exchanging compelling looks from the man who’d once held her heart.
It could be like this, she wanted to tell him. They could share time and chores along with the worry and joy of being parents. And at night—her cheeks burned as her mind filled with everything she wished she had the freedom and luxury to share with him.
No longer was she a starry-eyed girl in love with the man of her dreams. Or was she?
Later, dinner conversation consisted mainly of Marissa asking Logan one question after another about horses.
“Enough, young lady,” Kendall finally told her daughter. “Not another word.” She pointed at the near-full plate when Marissa started to object. “Eat your dinner. Then it’s time for a bath.”
“But it’s movie night.” Tears, big ones that usually indicated fatigue, filled her eyes.
“If you finish your dinner,” Audra said in her quiet voice. “Maybe your Mamma will let me take you to my place where we’ll watch a movie and you can spend the night.” She exchanged a look with Kendall, then turned back to wink at Marissa. “That way your mom and Logan get stuck doing the dishes.”
“You don’t have to stay,” Kendall told Logan, twenty minutes later as she stood in the kitchen doorway and watched Marissa and Audra make the short walk to Audra’s place. “You certainly don’t have to do the dishes.”
“You did the cooking, it’s a fair trade.”
She turned around to see Logan rolling his shirt sleeves up to the elbow. “Actually, Audra did most of the cooking.” And made sure we were left alone.
“I like your friend, and not because she cooked a great meal.” He carried the stack of plates over to the sink. “She’s a little on the quiet side.”
“You have to admit Marissa hardly gave anyone but you a chance to talk tonight, and even that was only to answer her questions. Besides, Audra doesn’t really know you.”
Kendall said nothing more as she stored the leftovers in small containers. There had been a time when she would have told Logan about the events that led to Audra coming here to live. But now she had to be more careful. Not only for Audra’s sake, but for her own as well.
Still, not confiding in Logan the way she once had created a physical ache pressing down on her chest. She reached for her wine, took another long sip.
“How did the rest of the evaluations go today?” she asked. They talked for a bit about his training plans. She answered his questions about her co-workers as honestly and objectively as possible, aware it could make a difference at some point in the future. Maybe it was the wine that made her bold. At a break in the conversation she stared at him.
“Have you enjoyed it? The military?”
“It’s like most things in life.” He shrugged. “There’s good to go with the not-so-good.” He set down the cloth he’d been using and looked at her. There was something in his gaze she couldn’t identify, but it felt fierce and started a trembling low in her belly. She started to set down her wine glass, only to freeze when he finally spoke.
“One of the good things is why I have a meeting with an attorney in the morning.”
Chapter Five
KENDALL WENT ice cold, and her fingers went boneless on the glass. It slipped free and shattered on the floor as Logan’s words hung between them.
She felt as if she’d just stepped outside the warm comfort of her home into a raging snowstorm. Her face went numb, her breathing slowed, and each breath felt as if it contained a stack of needles. She stared at him, this man she’d once loved, was so afraid she still loved.
Her heart urged her to trust, to wait for his explanation, to believe she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. There were countless reasons why Logan would want to see an attorney. It didn’t have to be because he intended to fight her for custody of Marissa.
Her cop experience reminded her that the courts rarely ruled against a mother. She also knew the inherent dangers of her job could be argued against her. Just as she knew some in the community felt she was unfit to be a mother because she wore no wedding band.
Then there was the memory of her father using his parental right as the basis for convincing an attorney to give him access to her college fund.
“Kendall.”
It was Logan taking a step in her direction that finally broke through her confusion. She backed away, but he kept coming toward her. Side-stepping his outstretched hand, she ignored the stabbing sharp pain in her foot. “Don’t touch me.”
“Listen to me.”
“No.” She had the childish urge to cover her ears with her hands. Instead, she turned toward the back door. She wanted, needed, to hold her daughter.
Logan’s hand on her arm stopped her. Before she could shake him off, she felt his strong arms bundle her against his chest. She wanted to squirm, to back away, but suddenly everything inside her wilted. All she could seem to do was lower her head to his chest.
“It’s not what you think.”
His breath was warm against her temple, and for an instant she thought of whispered words between lovers as they lay in each other’s arms. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
“I won’t let you take her from me.”
“God, Kendall, do you distrust me so much that you think I’d do that to you?”
She wanted to believe him, wanted to believe he could be a shelter against all the worry and hurt the world could dish out. She wanted to believe he wasn’t planning to fight her for their daughter.
She couldn’t be left all alone again.
“You said . . .” Her breath hitched, and then her stomach heaved. “I’m going to be sick.”
She shoved away. It took only one step for her to stumble and yelp in pain. Looking down she saw the smear of blood on her kitchen floor. Logan swore under his breath as he lifted her and carried her to the bathroom.
She sucked in a breath between her teeth as he set her down and then practically shoved her to sit on the toilet seat.
“First time I’ve ever seen the advantage of keeping the seat down,” he said. When he shoved a wastebasket into her hands, Kendall closed her eyes and willed her swimming stomach and head to settle. “Oh, baby, what have you done to yourself?” His hands were gentle as they probed around her heel. The scent of blood rose up to add to her mix of confusion and pain.
“The wine glass,” he said. “You must have stepped right in it.”
She kept her eyes closed, listening to the sounds of him rummaging through her cabinet, running water. The cool cloth ran along her instep, a contrast to the heat of the hand wrapped around her calf as he held her still.
“Logan.”
“Let’s finish this first.”
She opened her eyes in time to see him use her tweezers to pull out a shard of glass. Since the piece was larger than she expected, she snapped shut her eyes. That’s when fatigue won out over the adrenaline rush of their confrontation, and her energy drained away. She heard dim sounds of him again searching through her cabinet, the rustle of a paper bag—the one containing cotton balls—and the screw turn of a bottle cap. Although braced for the sting, she still cursed under her breath when he dabbed antiseptic over the cuts.
“Sorry.” His breath was warm as he blew over the ar
ea he’d treated. “It’s not deep enough that you need stitches,” he said. “Looks like your foot’s as hard as your head,” he added with a hint of amusement.
“You don’t have to stay. I can take care of it.”
“You don’t have to do everything alone, Kendall.”
It took a surprising effort to push past the desire to drift and instead open her eyes. “It’s all I know,” she said, not sure herself if she referred to the years after her night with him or back through all the years after she lost her mother.
“How could you think, for even a second, that I would try to take Marissa away from you?”
His question—and the hurt punctuating each word—made her stomach roll with regret. Her fingers tightened on the wastebasket she still held. “Why else would you want to see an attorney?”
Ignoring the question, Logan set aside the supplies, returned the wastebasket to the floor, and, before she could guess his intent, scooped her up into his arms.
“Logan,” she protested. “I can walk.”
“I admit I didn’t like it when you started out saying we shouldn’t tell Marissa I’m her father, but after I thought it through, I understood why.” He leaned over the bed and tossed back the covers. He settled her in the center of the plain white sheets and, again before she could guess his intent, pulled off his boots and crawled into bed alongside her. “One thing I can do without revealing to anyone that Marissa’s mine,” he said as he curved one arm around Kendall and brought her close to his side, “is set up some kind of trust fund.”
He shifted his hips a little, as if uncomfortable. Kendall tried to move away, but Logan kept her in place.
“My mom left me a small college fund.”
Cowboy On Her Doorstep (Montgomery Brothers Book 1) Page 7
