by Marin Thomas
“Water, please.” She yawned. “Hi, Mom.”
“Cassidy, this nice young man cooked dinner.”
Maybe she was still groggy. Maybe she hadn’t gotten over the shock of her mother’s antics last night. Or maybe her hormones were out of whack. Whatever the cause, Cassidy’s eyes watered and darned if she could stop the tears.
Logan set the water glass in front of her, then crouched at her side and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She flashed a weak smile and Logan returned to his seat. “How’s the pizza, Mom?”
“Fine.” She pointed across the table. “Your friend made us supper.”
When Cassidy noticed Logan had cut her mother’s pizza into small pieces the tears came harder.
“Sonja? How would you like to eat supper and watch one of your shows?” Logan asked.
“Oh, that would be nice.” Sonja left the table, her napkin falling to the floor.
“Hang on,” Logan said. He carried her mother’s plate and drink into the other room and switched on the TV for her.
“Sorry if I overstepped my bounds,” he said, joining Cassidy at the table. “You were conked out when I checked on you and—”
“I needed help.” The words almost choked her. She wanted his love, too, not just his help.
They ate in silence. Logan finished first, pushing his plate aside. “I have something to say, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
If his serious tone was any indication she knew she wouldn’t. “I’m listening.”
“Until last night when I saw your mother destroying the Christmas decorations I hadn’t realized how difficult your situation was. I think—”
“You think I should put my mother in a home?”
“That’s not what I was going to suggest.” He strummed his fingers on the table. “I want you to stop cutting hair.”
“What?” Was he crazy? She needed the income to make ends meet.
“I can help with expenses and—”
“No, Logan. I won’t take your money.”
“Think of it as a child support payment.”
“There is no child…yet.”
“You can’t keep going like this, Cassidy. It’s not good for you or the baby.”
She admitted she was burning the candle at both ends but she hated being backed into a corner. Was this how Logan felt when she’d told him about the baby?
He carried his dishes to the sink, rinsed them and then put them in the dishwasher. “Will you at least consider decreasing your work hours cutting hair?”
“This is my busiest time of year. The tips pay for Christmas presents.” And her after-Christmas shopping spree.
His mouth drew into a thin line and his shoulders stiffened. “If you won’t accept my money, then I’ll have to help you out other ways.”
Other ways? She was afraid to ask what he meant.
Supper finished, Cassidy rose from the table only to be instructed to relax in the living room with her mother. Logan cleaned up the kitchen, went outside and turned on the Christmas lights, then he insisted Cassidy soak in the tub.
“Mom needs her—”
“I’ll keep your mother company.” He turned to Sonja. “How about a game of cards?”
“Oh, I love card games.”
Her mother couldn’t remember how to play any card games, but instead of sticking around and warning Logan, Cassidy retreated to the bathroom and did as Logan suggested—soaked in a bubble bath. An hour later Cassidy put her mother to bed.
She expected Logan to take off but he elected to stay. They watched the late-night news together and he gave her a foot rub.
Cassidy closed her eyes and sighed in contentment. She could get used to Logan’s pampering—if only it came from the heart and not from a feeling of obligation.
Chapter Six
The Junket holiday parade took place each year the Saturday before Christmas. Logan hadn’t planned on attending but when Cassidy mentioned taking her mother he decided he’d better tag along in case Cassidy needed help.
He and Cassidy stood on the curb outside the barber shop and Sonja sat in one of the two lawn chairs Logan had stowed in the truck. The day had dawned bright and clear but the midmorning temperature hovered near fifty and folks lining both sides of the street wore jackets and gloves. The parade was only two city blocks long but lasted almost an hour due to the floats rolling by at three miles per hour. Baker’s Drugstore offered free coffee and hot chocolate for the event and Helga served it up from a beverage cart in front of the store.
Logan had hoped to run into Fletcher and his son, but his friend was nowhere in sight. Maybe he and online Daisy were off sight-seeing. As soon as the 4-H Fair kid passed by with his winning ewe, Logan jogged across the street to the drugstore.
“Hello, Logan,” Helga said.
He nodded. “Two hot chocolates, please.”
“Are you enjoying the parade?”
“Yep.” In truth, he’d rather be watching a movie in Cassidy’s trailer. He didn’t mind crowds, but since Bethany’s death most people steered clear of him—not that he blamed them. Logan hadn’t been in the mood for shooting the bull with anybody. Now that he’d shown his face in public again he surmised people were keeping their distance because they’d heard Cassidy was carrying his baby.
“How are things between you and Cassidy?” Helga handed him one hot chocolate.
“Fine.” Logan wished the woman would hurry up. He didn’t want to appear rude, but he had no intention of discussing his love life.
Helga’s gray eyebrows arched. “Are you and Cassidy planning to marry?”
Marry? “I don’t—”
“Who is that cowboy across the street cozying up to Cassidy?”
What cowboy? Logan spotted a ranch hand from Fletcher’s spread chatting with Cassidy. The guy said something and Cassidy laughed, then playfully punched the man in the arm.
How come she never laughed like that around him?
Because you never joke with her. Right then the high school marching band playing “Jingle Bell Rock” entered the parade procession. Logan shouted his “thank you” to Helga, then turned to cross the street but discovered the band blocked his way.
Jealousy gnawed his gut as he watched the ranch hand flirt with Cassidy. Whatever they were discussing sure tickled her funny bone. He hadn’t seen her smile this much since…since never.
As soon as the band passed by, Logan shuffled to the other side of the street. He handed Cassidy and Sonja the hot chocolates.
“Logan, have you met Dale Richards? He works out at the Rocking J,” Cassidy said.
“Not officially.” Logan shook hands with the man, then wrapped an arm around Cassidy’s shoulders. “Cold?” he asked her, then leveled a she-isn’t-available glare at the cowhand.
Dale frowned. “Are you two a couple?”
“We’re friends,” Cassidy said a little too quickly.
“In that case—” Dale grinned “—how would you like to drive to Midland for lunch and a movie tomorrow?”
“She can’t.” Logan tightened his hold around Cassidy.
Her eyes widened. “I can’t?”
“No, remember.” Play along with me, Cassidy.
She refused. “Remember what?”
His brain scrambled for a reason she couldn’t go out with Dale. “The picnic.”
“What picnic?” Darned if a smile didn’t flirt with the corner of her mouth. She’s toying with you.
“The picnic at my ranch.”
“Oh, that picnic.” Cassidy apologized. “I’m sorry, Dale. Maybe another time.”
Another time? Not if Logan had anything to say about it.
“Enjoy the parade.” Dale moseyed along and struck up a conversation with another cowboy.
“Care to explain the Neanderthal routine?” Cassidy asked.
“No.” As a matter of fact Logan wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. He’d thought
he wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship but the idea of Cassidy falling in love with another man felt wrong. But anything more than friendship with her meant risking his heart and taking responsibility for another human—two humans. Three including Sonja.
If he didn’t ask Cassidy to marry him, then the only thing he knew for certain was that one day some other guy eventually would. Could he live with that? He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
Cassidy tugged his sleeve. “So what time’s the picnic?” she asked, calling his bluff.
“Noon.” That gave him just over twenty-four hours to figure out the future—his and Cassidy’s.
PLUMES OF DUST ROSE in the air as the red compact drew closer. A sense of déjà vu swept through Logan. Had it only been eleven days since Cassidy had shared the news with him that she was pregnant? In such a short time she’d worked her way beneath his skin.
Don’t you mean months?
Cassidy had passed in and out of Logan’s thoughts since the September night she’d rescued his drunken carcass from the honky-tonk. For months he’d convinced himself that their romp between the sheets meant nothing, but in truth—she’d gotten to him.
Granted his feelings for her were a jumbled mess. He liked her. Desired her—that was for sure. But love her? No matter how tempting, he didn’t dare.
After parking the car next to the barn, she flashed a smile at him and his libido shot off the charts. She hadn’t said a word and already his body hummed like a fine-tuned motor. No woman had ever had that effect on him before.
Twister barked. Logan stamped his boot against the ground and the dog slunk into the shadows.
Logan approached the car and rescued the lunch basket from Cassidy’s hand. Today she wore jeans and a fluffy pink sweater. She looked soft and huggable. “We’re picnicking in the hayloft.”
“I’ve never been invited up into a hayloft by a handsome cowboy.” She batted her eyelashes.
The little flirt. “Then it’s time you were.” He grasped her hand and led her inside the barn, then hesitated at the bottom of the ladder. “Maybe you shouldn’t climb up there in your condition.”
“I’m not an invalid. I’m pregnant.”
As if he needed a reminder. He steadied the ladder and she ascended the first few rungs, then he followed, thoroughly enjoying the view in front of him.
“Oh, this is nice.” Cassidy surveyed the hay bales he’d pushed together and spread a quilt over. An oil lantern cast a cozy glow about the dimly lit area.
She opened the basket, then handed him a fried chicken leg before claiming a spot on the blanket. “Guess what I learned this morning?”
“What’s that?” He contributed two water bottles from the cooler he’d stashed in the loft.
“Thanks to you I won the Shady Acres Christmas decorating award.” She pulled a blue ribbon from her pocket. “See.”
“I bet you win the award every year.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Usually the Millers and I switch off winning, but this year the inflated igloo clinched the deal for me.”
“Glad I helped.” He dug into the chicken. Cassidy handed him a napkin. After wiping his mouth he took the plunge. “Cassidy, I’m worried how you’re going to cope with a newborn, your mother and keeping up with your hair-styling business.”
“I’ll manage.”
Her answer disappointed him. He’d believed his showing up at Cassidy’s trailer the past few nights had proved she couldn’t manage on her own and needed his help. Confused, he attacked another chicken leg.
“I saw Fletcher with a woman earlier today.” She brushed the pad of her thumb against the corner of his mouth and Logan felt a zap shoot through his body. “Crumb,” she said. “The woman looked familiar but I don’t recall having seen her around town before.”
“If it’s who I think it is, then she’s not from Junket.” Obviously Fletcher had been ignoring Logan’s calls because he was busy pursuing his new love interest.
“Who is she?” Cassidy asked.
“Fletcher met the woman through his MySpace page.”
“I’ve considered setting up a MySpace page.” She opened a container of pasta salad and passed Logan a fork. “But I don’t have the time to fool around with that stuff.”
Thank God. At least he didn’t have to worry about Cassidy hooking up with some online stalker or weirdo. “We need to discuss the future.” This morning in the shower he’d convinced himself that he should marry Cassidy to protect the baby from being labeled a bastard. The possibility that one day Cassidy might get a better offer from another man had nothing to do with his decision. Or so he’d told himself.
“What about the future?”
No sense pretending he was a great orator. “I’ve changed my mind about the baby.” He waited for a smile. Maybe a squeal. Even a hug. Anything that suggested Cassidy was happy about his announcement.
“Changed your mind how?” The guarded tone in her voice was no less than he deserved.
“I want the baby to have my last name.”
“Fine. I’ll make sure Taylor is on the birth certificate.”
She wasn’t making this easy. “That’s not what I meant.” He sucked in a deep breath and took the plunge. “I think we should get married.”
Silence—the loud, heavy kind that weighed down a man’s conscience filled the confines of the loft. “I think we should—”
“Heard you the first time.” And it wasn’t what Cassidy had hoped to hear. She offered him a second chance to get this right. “Why do you think we should get married?”
“You’re going to need help, Cassidy. Help with the baby. Your mother.”
Pain gripped her heart in a bear hug. Logan had proposed not because he loved her, but because he was apprehensive about her and the baby’s well-being.
“It’s the perfect solution,” he said.
“Solution?” The word leaked from her mouth in broken syllables.
“Marriage has its privileges.” He tugged a strand of her hair and winked.
Sex. Guilt-free sex. She supposed a man who’d been married as long as Logan had wouldn’t feel comfortable in a long-term relationship without a commitment. But marriage in exchange for bedroom privileges and help around the trailer didn’t interest Cassidy.
What about love? She was twenty-eight years old and had never been in love before. She didn’t need Logan to give their baby his name. She didn’t need Logan to protect her from the gossipmongers. She didn’t need Logan to help her make ends meet or watch over her mother.
She needed him to love her.
Cassidy shook her head. “I won’t marry you.”
“But—”
“I won’t marry you, Logan, because you don’t love me.” No sense admitting she’d already fallen in love with him. She had her pride.
“Why do we have to complicate things with love—” He pulled her to her feet and hauled her against him “—when we have this between us?” He kissed her, his tongue sweeping her mouth, begging her to participate. She didn’t have the strength to resist him. He palmed her breast, drawing a moan from her. No denying it…Logan set her on fire.
The kiss gentled, ending with small nibbles on her lower lip. “I’ve never felt this strong of an attraction to any woman, Cassidy. Why can’t we be together without emotions getting in the way?”
“Because I need more than great sex, Logan. I need love.”
“You’re asking for the impossible from me.” His voice shook.
She stroked his cheek. “It’s okay, Logan. No one would ever blame you for not wanting to take a chance on love again.” Cassidy had hoped…prayed she was the woman to coax this man to risk his heart again, but it wasn’t meant to be. “I’d better go.”
His arms tightened around her for a fraction of a second before he released her. In silence she packed the picnic basket and he helped her down the ladder. Neither spoke as he walked her to the car.
She drove away, watching Logan’s
solitary figure in the rearview mirror. He looked so alone. So lost. All the love he needed in the world waited for him in her arms…if only he’d give her and their baby a chance to heal his wounded heart.
LOGAN PULLED UP to Cassidy’s trailer at two in the morning and stared at the deflated igloo, which lay on the grass in a puddle of plastic.
He hadn’t meant to hurt her.
When she’d left his ranch earlier in the afternoon, he’d tackled every chore that had been on his to-do list for the past six months, counting on physical exertion to ease the pain of Cassidy’s rejection.
Hours later Logan had entered the empty house and had been hit with the realization that he was really, truly alone. Exactly what he’d wanted…needed after Bethany’s death—isolation and emptiness. Each day had been a big, black void and that’s how he’d managed to survive.
Until Cassidy happened along and ruined it all.
She’d made him admit that he didn’t want to be alone anymore.
After a shower Logan had gone to bed, expecting to pass out. Sleep eluded him. He’d lain wide awake, alternately cursing and praising Cassidy. Why wouldn’t she give him—them—a chance? Why did she need him to be something he couldn’t? To offer something he didn’t have to give?
If he knew what was good for him, he’d stop obsessing and move on. To what? More of the same depressing loneliness? He wanted one more chance to explain.
Two in the morning isn’t the best time to plead your case.
He considered leaving but a light switched on inside Cassidy’s trailer. A moment later, she stepped out the door wearing a bathrobe and big fuzzy slippers. His throat tightened. He wanted to wake up to Cassidy every morning and see her this way.
She descended the porch steps and approached the truck. He leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door. She hopped in. He didn’t utter a word, even though hundreds clamored inside his head. Then she whispered, “Trouble sleeping?”
“Yeah. You?”
She nodded.
He yearned to hold her. Kiss her. “Cassidy. I feel things for you that I shouldn’t.” She remained silent and he was grateful that she allowed him to bungle his way through without interrupting.
