Linda Lael Miller Montana Creeds Series Volume 1: Montana Creeds: LoganMontana Creeds: DylanMontana Creeds: Tyler

Home > Other > Linda Lael Miller Montana Creeds Series Volume 1: Montana Creeds: LoganMontana Creeds: DylanMontana Creeds: Tyler > Page 12
Linda Lael Miller Montana Creeds Series Volume 1: Montana Creeds: LoganMontana Creeds: DylanMontana Creeds: Tyler Page 12

by Linda Lael Miller


  “It’s Mom,” he told the assembled crowd, with a roll of his eyes, though Logan could tell he felt important. “Yes, Dad’s here—he’s with us, Mom. So is Logan.” A pause. “Heather was still asleep when we left the house.”

  Who the hell, Logan wondered, was Heather?

  “We ought to head home now,” Vance said, as Josh hung up the cell phone, held it out of Alec’s reach for a few seconds, then put it back in his pocket. “We’re due in town in half an hour.”

  Alec and Josh both said goodbye and pedaled back toward Dylan’s place. Logan got into his truck, the window still down, and Vance lingered a moment.

  “My boys,” he said, “have a dad.”

  Logan felt his ears burn. He’d had supper at Briana’s once, and taken Alec and Josh to town the day before to have lunch and, as it turned out, wait for their mother. Did this yahoo think he was moving in on his turf or something?

  The kids were definitely Vance’s; they looked just like him.

  But Briana wasn’t his wife. Where she was concerned, turf wasn’t an issue.

  “Look,” Logan said, resting his arm on the window ledge and gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly with the other hand, “we just met, so I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and not assume you’re a prickly son of a bitch with a chip on your shoulder. Alec and Josh are nice kids. You’re lucky to have them.”

  Vance huffed out a breath, relaxed a little. Took off his hat to shove a hand through his hair, half turned to follow the boys and then turned back again. “I guess I am a little prickly,” he admitted. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m trying to set things right. That’s going to take some doing and the plain truth is, I don’t need any competition just now.”

  Logan didn’t say anything. He meant to listen, nothing more.

  But Vance didn’t add anything to the speech he’d just made. He turned again, saw that the boys had disappeared around the bend and followed them.

  I don’t need any competition just now.

  What the hell did that mean? Was Vance trying to win his family back, Briana included? Or was he just talking about establishing some kind of relationship with his kids?

  Key word his, Logan thought grimly.

  The gears ground a little as he shifted into First, and the tires screeched as they grabbed the pavement on the county road.

  He hardly knew Briana Grant. If she wanted to reconcile with her exhusband, that was her prerogative.

  Just the same, as he drove through Stillwater Springs, and then past the city limits, headed toward Choteau, it was all he could do not to turn in at the casino, find Briana and ask her what was going on. All that stopped him, in fact, was the recollection that Josh had mentioned a woman.

  Heather.

  He drove on to Choteau, found the stock auction, signed up for a number. He and Sidekick walked past all the pens, examining the cattle and horses that would be up for sale that day.

  Once the auction actually started, the bidding was fast and furious. By the time he loaded Sidekick into the truck, after writing a whopping check to the auction company, he was in the ranching business for real, to the tune of twenty heifers and four horses.

  The cattle would be delivered in ten days, the horses in one.

  Leaning forward in the seat, Logan peered up at the sky through the windshield. The weather was good. The cayuses would be fine in the corral until the barn was habitable.

  He’d had to pay extra to delay the arrival of the cattle, though, since the pasture fence wasn’t finished.

  He grinned at Sidekick, panting in the passenger seat while the night scenery flew by. “How are you at herding cattle, boy?” he asked the dog.

  Sidekick merely watched him, eyes luminous with devotion.

  “One thing’s for sure,” Logan went on. “Cimarron is going to be one happy bull.”

  His cell phone rang.

  Because he was driving, Logan answered without IDing the caller first.

  “Logan Creed,” he said, out of long habit. Until recently, when he’d sold his company, just about every call had been business.

  Laurie laughed, and the rich, warm sound made him miss having a woman in his life, if not her specifically. “Most people just say hello,” she told him.

  “All right, hello,” he said.

  “Cranky.”

  “How’s the marriage going?” he asked, to lighten things up. And maybe to get under her skin just a little, even though they were on friendly terms. Pretty much.

  “I’m thinking of divorcing myself,” she said. “We don’t get along very well, me, myself and I.”

  “Sorry to hear it,” Logan replied, but he had to chuckle. There were all the normal, ordinary people in the world. And then there was Laurie.

  When she didn’t make an immediate comeback, he thought he’d better jump-start the conversation. He didn’t feel like chatting, and getting it going was the only way to get it over with.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  Dylan’s voice echoed in his mind, and then Tyler’s. What do you want?

  Laurie started to cry.

  Shit, Logan thought. “Laurie?”

  “I can’t keep my dog,” she said.

  “What?” Logan asked, confounded.

  “I just moved into this condo, and they won’t let me keep Snookums.”

  Logan glanced toward Sidekick. “That’s rough,” he said sincerely. Was she just venting? Or did she expect him to do something?

  “I was wondering if you’d take him,” Laurie said. “He’s a good dog.”

  “Laurie, you live in California, and I live in Montana—”

  “I could put him on a plane. Logan, you’ve got to do this for me. I can’t move right now, and I’m going to be evicted if I don’t find Snookums another home and I can’t just hand him over to strangers—”

  “Snookums?” Logan echoed stupidly. He could feel himself being sucked into a vortex reserved for people who love dogs. All dogs—big, small and in between.

  “You’ll do it!” Laurie cried, with such joy that Logan couldn’t think of anything to say. “Are you still there?” his second wife, now married to herself, asked.

  “I’m here.”

  “I’ll put him on a plane as soon as possible.”

  “Snookums?” Logan repeated.

  “You can change his name if you want to,” Laurie said, sounding hurt.

  “Laurie, can’t you—”

  She started to cry again. “Please, Logan. Please?”

  He sighed audibly. “Okay,” he said. “What kind of dog is—”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I’ve booked the flight,” Laurie broke in, sniffling, her voice radiant with gratitude. “Thanks, Logan.”

  And with that, she hung up.

  Logan closed his phone, looked into the rearview mirror, meeting his own gaze.

  “Sucker,” he said.

  Sidekick made a soft sound in his throat.

  “You’re getting a brother,” Logan told him. “Snookums.” The dog tilted his head to one side.

  “Yeah,” Logan confirmed. “You heard me right. I said Snookums.”

  *

  “DAD GOT THE JOB!” Alec announced the moment Briana stepped into the house that night, after work. “And we found them a great trailer to live in, too!”

  The van was in the backyard, but there was no sign of the happy couple. “Where are your dad and Heather?” she asked, bending to pat Wanda in greeting.

  “They’re taking a shower,” Alec said.

  Behind him, Josh made a face. “Together,” he said.

  I’ll kill him, Briana thought, setting her purse aside with a thunk.

  “Heather found a job, too,” Alec blathered on, the whole shared-shower thing going right over his head. Thank heaven. “She’s going to be doing hair at the shop in the strip mall.”

  Heather was a hairdresser? Briana sincerely hoped the woman’s own strawlike tresses weren’t typical
of her work. “That’s great,” she said, because Alec was so happy.

  “They can’t move into the trailer until tomorrow,” Josh said, raising his eyebrows to give the statement adequate portent.

  “But we got some groceries!” Alec chimed, swinging open the fridge door as proof. Briana saw a six-pack of beer, a package of lunch meat, salad makings and one of those bake-it-yourself pizzas.

  She hadn’t slipped into a parallel universe after all.

  Vance had bought beer.

  In the distance, the shower stopped, and a few moments later, Heather padded into the kitchen, bundled in a skimpy pink bathrobe, her geyser ponytail hanging limp from the steam and moisture.

  “Hi, Briana,” she said cheerfully. “You go put your feet up or something, because I’m cooking supper tonight.”

  Briana opened her mouth, closed it again. It wouldn’t be right to tell the woman to cover up, for God’s sake, because there were children in the room. Would it?

  Vance appeared, shirtless, buttoning up the fly of his jeans. “I hope you don’t mind if we stay one more night,” he said easily. “Can’t get the keys to the trailer until they turn on the water and the lights, and that’ll be tomorrow.”

  Briana did the fish thing with her mouth again.

  Open.

  Closed.

  Open again.

  “Good,” Vance said, heading for the laundry room. He came out a moment later, buttoning up a clean shirt. Evidently, he and Heather had done a little washing in between getting jobs and renting themselves a trailer. “Heather!” he called. “Get a move on with this pizza! I’m a working man now, and I have to eat!”

  Briana booked it for her bedroom, shut the door and swapped out her casino getup for shorts and a T-shirt.

  When she got back to the kitchen—and she had to force herself to come out of hiding—Heather was semi-decently dressed in a pair of skin-tight white jeans and another huggy top that left her belly bare. She popped the pizza in the oven and gave Briana a thoughtful once-over.

  “You should cut your hair,” she said.

  Briana grabbed protectively at her braid. Why did hairstylists always want to cut long hair short? It was like a challenge or something—Mount Everest to a climber.

  “I’d be glad to do it for you,” Heather went on. “No charge.”

  “Thanks,” Briana said. “But I like it this way.”

  Heather frowned prettily. “When we get older,” she said sweetly, “we really shouldn’t wear our hair long.”

  The remark was so outrageous—and so guilelessly sincere—that Briana didn’t even get mad. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.

  Heather smiled, pleased, and started the salad.

  Vance and the boys were in the living room now, watching a game of some kind of TV.

  “Isn’t there something I can do to help?” Briana asked. “With supper, I mean?”

  “You could set the table,” Heather said sunnily.

  Briana went to the cupboard for dishes.

  “This is nice, isn’t it?” Heather asked, whacking away at the green onions.

  Briana didn’t answer.

  Heather turned, looked back at her over one shoulder. “I’m so proud of Vance,” she said. “He got the first job he applied for.”

  “Imagine,” Briana agreed, biting the inside of her lower lip to keep from saying more.

  Heather squinted at her. Maybe her sarcasm detectors were going off. But then she smiled again, shooting down Briana’s theory. “We have an extra bedroom at the trailer,” she said. “Vance and I hope the boys can stay with us sometimes, on weekends and after school.”

  That was a bridge Briana didn’t intend to cross until she got to it. “The boys don’t go to school,” she said. “I teach them at home.”

  Heather turned back to the salad greens, chopping harder. “Vance says he’ll have to put his foot down about that,” she replied, in a rush of words. “Anyhow, Alec and Josh want to be like other kids. Play baseball and stuff. I mean, you’ve done a good job as a mother and everything but—”

  “Heather.” It was Vance’s voice.

  Briana, frozen, turned only her eyes in his direction. Nothing else would move.

  “Well,” Heather burst out, “you said you were afraid to say anything about putting the boys in a real school, so I—”

  Vance stood in the doorway to the living room, with Alec and Josh squeezed in on either side of him. “Heather,” he repeated.

  She broke into tears and fled to the bathroom, since there wasn’t really anyplace else to go.

  “That went well,” Briana said, meeting her exhusband’s eyes at last. “And Alec and Josh are doing just fine with their schoolwork.”

  “They need to be around other kids, Bree,” Vance said.

  “Get involved in sports. Go on field trips. Stuff like that.”

  “So now you’re suddenly the caring father?”

  Stop, said the good angel. Stop now. The kids are listening.

  “I know your dad homeschooled you,” Vance said quietly, letting her question pass without comment, “and it worked out fine. But Alec and Josh are my kids, too, and they’re going to school this fall, like everybody else.”

  Alec peered around Vance’s elbow. Josh took a step forward.

  “Dad’s right, Mom,” Josh said. “We want to be regular kids.”

  “Alec?” Briana asked softly.

  “I wanna be on a baseball team,” Alec told her. “I wanna ride a yellow bus and eat lunch at the cafeteria.” Briana sat down, closed her eyes.

  Everything was changing, and it was happening too fast.

  Way, way too fast.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BRIANA HAD Sunday off, and when it dawned, she stretched luxuriously in bed, thrilling to the mistaken idea that she could sleep in.

  Then she remembered. Vance and Heather were moving into their rental that day, and Alec and Josh had insisted on helping. Which meant they’d be going into town to spend the day at the new place.

  He’s their father, Briana reminded herself. And this is what you wanted—isn’t it?

  From the kitchen, she heard cooking noises. Wanda stirred, got up and jumped heavily off the bed. Went to the door and stuck her nose against it.

  With a sigh, Briana got up, pulled on her ugly yellow bathrobe with the pink chenille roses on the back, cinched the belt and came out of hiding.

  Vance was fully dressed and busy making breakfast—pancakes and sausage patties, his specialty. Heather was in the shower.

  “Where are Alec and Josh?” Briana asked, as she opened the back door to let Wanda out.

  “Riding their bikes up and down the driveway,” Vance answered, letting his gaze drift slowly over Briana before shaking his head and looking away. “Met your neighbor yesterday. Logan Creed.”

  Briana merely nodded, made her way to the coffeepot. Even though there was nothing going on between her and Logan, she wasn’t comfortable discussing him with Vance.

  “I probably didn’t make the best impression on him,” Vance said, flipping a pancake.

  Briana went still, her coffee mug halfway to her mouth. “Meaning what?” she asked.

  “I might have seemed a little…territorial.”

  Briana waited, but Vance didn’t go on. So she prodded him. “Territorial? How so?”

  “The boys talk about him a lot,” Vance said, concentrating on the pancakes. “So I just reminded him that they’re my boys.”

  Briana couldn’t think of a response that wouldn’t start a yelling match, so she kept her mouth shut.

  Vance turned, just as Heather entered the kitchen from one side of the room and Alec and Josh and Wanda came in from the other.

  “We can talk about it another time,” Vance said. Subject dropped. It was probably for the best, Briana thought.

  The pancakes were good, like always, and so was the sausage. Briana wasn’t hungry, but she ate because she knew she was going to need her strength. Every ne
w day, it seemed, brought fresh challenges, flaming hoops to jump through, higher hurdles to clear.

  “Want to come into town with us and see the new place?” Heather asked Briana, when the meal was over and the clearing-up had begun.

  Alec looked at Briana in happy expectancy. Josh mouthed, “Please.”

  “Okay,” Briana said. Whether she liked it or not, the boys would be spending a lot of time at Vance and Heather’s, for the time being at least, and she needed to know exactly what sort of place it was.

  Briana washed dishes while Heather dried. Vance, having cooked breakfast, went outside with Alec and Josh to get the van ready. The old beater always seemed to need tinkering with before it would run—that, at least, hadn’t changed.

  “I’m—I’m sorry about the things I said about the boys going to regular school,” Heather ventured, as soon as they were alone. “I was out of line.”

  “No harm done,” Briana said. She’d had most of the night to think about the home-versus-regular-school question, and she’d decided to give in. She’d homeschooled the boys from first grade on, because she and Vance had followed the rodeo for most of the year. Then, when they’d wound up in Stillwater Springs, she’d continued, partly because Alec and Josh were doing really well in their studies, and partly because it was a new place and she’d felt overprotective.

  “It’ll give you more free time,” Heather suggested. “Come fall, anyway.”

  Free time? What would she do with that?

  Outside, the van’s engine roared to life.

  Alec rushed in; Josh followed slowly, with Wanda.

  “Can I ride with Dad and Heather?” Alec asked eagerly.

  Briana felt a pang. “I guess so.”

  “We could all go together,” Heather put in.

  “I have some errands to do,” Briana said quickly. It wasn’t a complete lie; the Stillwater Springs Library was open on Sundays during the summer, because of the influx of RVers and casino patrons. She had a stack of books to return, and wanted to check out more.

  “I’ll ride with Mom,” Josh said quickly.

  Thus, Briana and Josh followed Vance, Heather and Alec into town.

  “You’re all right with this?” Briana asked her son, as they passed the entrance to Stillwater Springs Ranch.

 

‹ Prev