Logan's Luck (Last Chance Book 4)

by Lexi Post

  “No, I’m not taking bets. I’m just hoping it doesn’t become da-da.” He ignored Trace’s laugh and opened the stall door. As he placed the halter over Macy’s head, the colt grabbed one lead with its teeth.

  “Which stall do you want to use for our new arrival?”

  He pulled the lead from the colt’s mouth and led Macy out. “The first one on the right as you come in. I think we should have it near the entrance because Cole didn’t tell me what to expect.”

  “Ah, that’s why you want the north corral free.”

  “Yeah.” He walked the mare out to the south corral, the foal running beside them, stopping to look at a fence post then bounding back to them. Once he had Macy and the colt inside, he closed the gate and took off the halter. “There you go.”

  Macy continued to stand there as the colt decided it was the perfect time to nurse. He gave the mare a couple strokes on her neck. “Don’t worry. In no time, he’ll be grown and you’ll wonder where the time went.”

  Logan left the pair to themselves and headed for the barn. He opened Black Jack’s gate and stepped in. “How about a little sunshine, buddy?”

  The horse pushed its nose against his hip.

  “Will you stop that? I don’t have a treat. If you play with Charlotte’s Horse, I’ll reward you, but not before then.” Fitting the halter over the horse, he brought him out of his private stall and led him to the corral.

  Once letting Black Jack go, he laughed at the colt, who had suddenly glued himself to his mama. “Don’t worry Macy. He’ll be playing out here in no time.” He closed the gate and headed back to the barn to help Trace ready the stall.

  As irritating as his younger brother’s happy attitude could be, he was a worker. Their father had instilled that in them from an early age, yet no matter how hard he’d worked, he’d still lost the ranch. That last year, beef prices had hit the skids due to a glut of beef cattle. Just his luck that most of his herd was ripe for selling and they needed the money.

  Now his mom was living in an apartment above her shop in town selling crafts and postcards to tourists just to keep a roof over her head…again because of his luck.

  He’d found her a small home not far from town that they could afford with what was left from the sale of the ranch after all the debts were paid, but a bidding war started on the little house. They lost it. In the end, the only place they could afford for her was the shop in town. He hated that she had to work when she should be enjoying life.

  “Hey, you going to help or just stand there looking pretty?” Trace grinned at him as he threw a twenty-five-pound bag of pine shavings over his shoulder.

  “Right.” He strode past his brother and grabbed a couple more bags before entering the stall for the new horse.

  “If this new resident is a stallion, we may have trouble with Sampson.” Trace nodded toward the stall across the way where Cole’s horse stood watching them.

  Logan shrugged as he ripped open the bags and started spreading. “We could have problems with it even if the horse is a mare. We should put Tiny Dancer in with Macy, the colt and Black Jack. I’ll take Sadie and Sampson out after we get this ready. If Sampson acts up when we bring him back in, you can lead him over to Cole’s place.”

  Trace paused on his way for more bedding. “Why do I see more fence building in our future?”

  “As long as Cole helps.” He finished spreading the shavings then followed his brother out.

  By lunch time, the two of them had the stall ready, Sadie, Sampson, and Tiny Dancer outside, and all the horses fed and watered.

  “Cole is going to have to build another barn if he keeps bringing in horses at this pace.” He and his brother stood by the south corral watching the colt prance around Black Jack, while Macy enjoyed the shade of the shelter.

  He didn’t blame her for refusing to budge. The thermometer on the barn was reaching ninety-five and would probably top out around a hundred by late afternoon. Plus, the humidity was up, part of the curse of Monsoon Season. The reward would be the rains, but so far, they’d only had a couple downpours to provide a little relief. It would be helpful if they could get another before October, which signaled the end of the season.

  Trace nodded. “I think you’re right. Maybe he needs a stable just for those who will stay here for the rest of their lives and one for those who have the possibility of finding a new home.”

  “That would make it easy to keep track, but it may not work depending on personalities.”

  Trace chuckled. “You mean for horses like Black Jack?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll mention it to Whisper anyway.” Trace took his foot off the bottom rail of the fence. “I’m going to take Lightyear home, grab some lunch and bring the truck down. Call me if the new horse shows up before I get back and I’ll hightail it down here.”

  “Will do.” Logan kept his eye on the antics of the colt until his brother rode by on his horse. Technically, Lightyear was Cole’s horse, but since Trace was the only one who could get a bridle on the beast and since his girlfriend funded all the horse care now, no one would ever argue with him about it. Not even Cole.

  Turning away from the corral, Logan headed for the house. Charlotte would be going in for a nap soon and he wanted to show her the “baby” as she would see it. It was time.

  Once inside, he found her in her playpen happily playing with her stuffed teddy and two rubber horses. His grandmother, who was on the phone, watched him like a hawk.

  “How’s my girl? Do you want to see a baby horsey?”

  Charlotte’s smile at his voice filled his heart with a happiness he only felt with her. She scrambled to her feet, holding on to the side of her play pen with one hand as she lifted the ever-present teddy over her head. “Up, Da-da. Up.”

  Ignoring the frown of his grandmother, he lifted his daughter into his arms. “Ready to see the baby horsey?”

  “Baby, da-da. Kissie.”

  He chuckled as he left the family room and strode outside onto the porch. Holding his daughter was like a balm to his soul. Everything wrong with the world melted away when he was with her…and she was smiling.

  “Baby.” Charlotte’s head whipped around as they passed Sampson in his corral.

  Logan smiled. “No Sunshine. That’s a horsey. That’s Sampson, Uncle Cole’s horsey.”

  She turned back to look at him. “Samsam?”

  “Yes, Samsam.” Cole would love that.

  She giggled and smacked her teddy down against his arm.

  He stopped at the south corral and pointed to the colt. “Look, Charlotte. A baby horsey.”

  She turned her head and when she caught sight of the colt, her eyes widened and her face grew serious. Her words were quiet. “Baby horzie.”

  He swallowed hard. “Yes, a baby horsey.”

  Spotting them, the young colt bounded toward them, stopping just three feet from the fence. It bobbed its head.

  His daughter remained transfixed then lifted her free hand and opened and closed it toward the colt. “Baby horzie.” Her voice was soft with wonder.

  The little horse stopped moving for a few seconds, then pranced across the enclosure.

  Charlotte turned her head to look at him even as she pointed with her teddy bear toward where the colt went. “Baby horzie.”

  “Yes, baby horsey. Just like baby Charlotte.”

  Her eyes grew round again and she smiled a toothy grin before batting her chest with her teddy bear. “Baby.”

  He grinned, blinking at the water in his eyes. “Yes, another baby.”

  Her head whipped back to find the colt, who stood at the other end of the corral. “Eeeeeee!”

  Her squeal of delight shocked both him and the colt, who beelined it back to his mom.

  “Okay, enough horsey for today.” He turned away, but his daughter looked over her shoulder, leaning over his arm.

  Her precarious position forced him to carry her against his chest so she could watch the colt over his
shoulder as they walked away, his back being hammered by the teddy as she chanted, “Baby horzie. Baby horzie.”

  When he made it to the porch, he found his grandmother watching them. “You’re going to spoil her.”

  He shook his head as he walked by her. “Too late.”

  She sighed behind him. “You can bring her upstairs. It’s time for her nap.”

  Logan carried Charlotte to their bedroom, surprised to see her eyes already closed. Placing her in the crib, he stroked her cheek gently. She’d rearranged his life and taught him so much just by being alive.

  His grandmother’s hand on his shoulder had him turning around.

  “There’s a truck coming up the driveway. I think the new horse is here.”

  He nodded. As usual there would be a lot to learn in a very short time. He left the room quietly and headed downstairs. Before going out, he stopped in the kitchen, following the fresh baked smell of something. On the counter was a plate of blueberry muffins, probably for tomorrow morning’s breakfast. Grabbing up two, he peeled back the paper cup of one and stuffed it in his mouth before the screen door closed behind him.

  Two people exited a white double-cab pickup truck with a horse trailer. Pulling in next to them was Trace. Perfect timing brother. His brother came around the front of his truck to greet the man in a black cowboy hat.

  Palming one of the muffins, Logan held out his hand to the woman with wavy black hair. “Welcome to Last Chance.”

  She smiled. “I’m Dana, the animal rescuer.”

  Logan widened his eyes before glancing at the chuckling man who came around the front of the truck.

  The man held out his hand. “I’m Bo Fletcher, the people rescuer.” He was Logan’s height, but built more like Cole. Though he wore a cowboy hat, it was obvious he was a firefighter.

  “Welcome. Cole said you drove all the way from Dallas to bring us a new horse.”

  Dana gave Bo a worried glance, then stood straighter and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “We did. Let me introduce you to Cyclone.”

  Cyclone? Logan glanced toward the north corral they had cleared. Would that fence hold a horse named Cyclone? Only one way to find out. Following Dana to the back of the trailer he froze.

  Well, damn. The horse was a fucking Clydesdale!

  Chapter Six

  Jenna finished typing in the last of her notes on Mrs. Greyson’s orange tabby cat, Marzipan, and saved her file. Picking up her chart of patients for the day, she breathed a relieved sigh to see Connie had left her a half hour for lunch.

  Her receptionist was worth her weight in gold. She was thankful every day that Connie had decided to retire early and move to Arizona only to get bored within a month’s time.

  If Connie hadn’t found the litter of feral kittens and brought them to the office the day Jenna had been overrun with appointments, she probably would have never found the time to hire anyone. She’d been managing with just herself and a part-time vet tech up until then.

  Putting down the chart, she headed out to the front. There was a good chance Connie had already ordered their lunch from one of the three eateries nearby and all Jenna would have to do is pick it up. When she reached the waiting area, there was no one there except Mr. Erickson’s dog, Butterball.

  The dog wagged its tail at her but didn’t move as it was well trained and was probably told to sit by its master.

  “Come here, Butterball.”

  The English Bulldog immediately waddled over to her and licked her hand.

  When the restroom door opened, Connie came out. “I ordered lunch from Ollie’s.”

  “Great. Where’s Mr. Erickson?”

  Connie’s smile disappeared. “The poor man. He passed away. His son said he had an aneurysm. By time the ambulance arrived, it was too late.”

  She stood. “I’m very sorry to hear that. He was such a nice man. So why is Butterball here?”

  “It was Mr. Erickson’s wish that you have him.”

  “Me?” Her schedule was far too crazy for her to own an animal unless it was a farm cat that fed and watered itself and didn’t need any attention.

  Connie pinned a loose blonde strand back into her upswept hair-do then gave her a long look. “Yes, you. I’m sure Mr. Erikson told you that you needed a companion or at the very least a watch dog. I know he told me that many a time.”

  Darn, the older man had said that, but she thought he meant she should get a dog, not that he wanted her to have his. “But what about his son? Wouldn’t he want Butterball?”

  “He already has three little dogs and said if he brought home one more his wife would divorce him.”

  “I can’t believe she’d do that with it being his dad’s dog.”

  Connie nodded her head. “I can. That woman has a mean streak if you ask me. My friend knows that woman’s mother and the stories I’ve heard would curl your toes.”

  She should have known Connie knew someone who knew someone. The woman had made it her mission in life to be the 411 for the entire town.

  “Now go get our lunch while you still have time to eat yours. I’m sure Butterball would enjoy the walk.” Connie picked up a leash and set it on the counter.

  She could stand here and argue with her receptionist or take the dog and pick up lunch while it was still hot because when Connie ordered from Ollie’s it was always the special of the day, which was invariably a warm dish.

  Taking the leash, she attached it to Butterball and left. Luckily, the dog was very well behaved and known to at least half the town, so when she tied him to the post of the porch at Ollie’s, he had plenty of attention while she went inside and paid.

  As she walked him back to her office, she gave him time to pee on a small cactus before heading inside. He may be a very well-trained dog, but she’d have to find someone else to give him to. Her life was far too busy for a dog, especially a four-year-old English Bulldog who was used to being an only child.

  Setting the lunch on the counter, she unhooked Butterball and handed the leash to Connie. “I’ll take this in my office. What is it, by the way?”

  Connie grinned. “My favorite, chicken pot pie.”

  Jenna’s stomach growled in response and Connie shooed her away with a wave of her hand. “You go eat. I’ve got things covered here.”

  Gratefully, she brought her lunch to her office and opened it up, cutting into the crust to let the hot aroma escape so she wouldn’t burn her mouth. As she sat, she looked down to find Butterball at her feet. “If you think you’re getting some, you are sadly mistaken. I’m a vet. I know exactly what you can and can’t have and this is not for you.”

  The dog looked at her with imploring eyes, but he finally decided she wouldn’t be moved and laid down at her feet.

  She was glad because in about three more seconds she would have caved. Now, if she could just hold out long enough with Logan until she could quit the Last Chance, she’d be golden.

  Taking a bite of the delicious pot pie, she glanced at the clock and did a quick calculation. In five and a half hours she could finally tell Cole the news then check the new horse and be done. Maybe she’d get lucky and the man who owned half her heart would be meeting with his baby’s mother.

  As her lunch cooled, she ate faster and faster, her gaze flicking between Butterball and the clock on her wall.

  Connie stuck her head in. “Your one o’clock appointment is here. I put them in exam room two.”

  “Thank you.” She picked up the schedule. They always used exam room two just for cats and it appeared there would be more than one. Miss Knox had brought four of her cats for their annual vaccinations.

  Jenna stood and almost tripped over Butterball. “I can’t bring you in with me, honey. You’ll have to stay in here. Stay.”

  The dog, who rose to his feet when she caught her balance, lay down again at her command. She wished she had that kind of control over her own heart. Heading for the exam room, she forced herself to focus on the work she loved.

&
nbsp; It turned out to be a busy afternoon and in no time Connie was saying goodbye and heading out to her weekly poker game. Jenna called Butterball from behind the reception desk where she found him halfway through the afternoon. “I think Connie wants to keep you here, that’s what I think.”

  She hooked his leash and turned out the lights. “You ready to check out a horse ranch?”

  Butterball wagged his tail while she locked up then he followed her to her car. When she opened the driver door, he hopped in and settled himself on the passenger seat. “Oh, really?”

  He looked at her innocently.

  “That’s not a safe place for you. In the back, BB.”

  He blinked as if he had no clue what she meant.

  She squinted her eyes at him and pointed to the back seat. “Butterball. Back.”

  His ears lowered and he crawled between the seats to lay across the back.

  “Good dog.” She settled in and quickly had them headed toward Last Chance. As she drove closer, her grip on the wheel tightened. After a sleepless night of Logan making love to her all over again, she’d finally made up her mind. Yet even as she prepared to tell Cole the news, her gut tightened. Not only would she no longer have the much needed income, but she wouldn’t be seeing Logan again unless in passing.

  But that’s why she was quitting as the ranch’s vet, so she wouldn’t see him anymore—to go back to the way it was after the county fair last year. No, it wasn’t just like that at all because Logan had stopped yelling at her and taken to kissing her again. How was she supposed to forget about him if he did that?

  She slowed as she came to the dirt-packed yard of Last Chance. An empty horse trailer was parked to the left, and she pulled up next to it. Maybe she could sneak into the barn, check out the new horse, and leave without anyone knowing she’d been there. The only problem with that plan was she needed to find Cole.

  The lights were on in the house and a yellow glow spilled out onto the porch, but no one was in the living room. Exiting her car, she grabbed her bag and almost forgot about Butterball. He’d probably like to stretch his legs after the ride, but she had no idea how he would react to horses.