Logan's Woman

by Avery Duncan

  It was hard to tell himself that he didn’t care whether she was upset by the rude “welcome” or not, but he managed.

  He didn’t know this women, and he had no intention to.

  And he also swore not to say a word to her if he saw her again.

  Nothing good could come out of an attraction that strong. His first wife had been proof of that.

  Bitterness seeped through him and he started down the road, to the one solace he had ever had before.

  Chapter 2

  Claire was shocked to her soul.

  What the hell had just happened?

  One second she had been walking out of the pharmacy, the next she’d been thrown into a whole new world of grey.

  A grey so vivid, it was like silver, wrapping around her body and heart, tugging at her desires. His eyes had been surrounded by thick black lashes, and set above high cheekbones that were perfectly aligned with an amazingly strong jaw.

  Her heart had stopped, then went right into overdrive. She had barely gotten time to look at him when he’d been storming away, but what she’d seen had been enough to pique her curiosity and her normally submissive desires.

  His body was perfection. Tall, nearly a foot higher than her, with wide shoulders that she could picture herself cuddling against in front of a fire with a book in her hand, and long legs encased in dark jeans. She could bet he hadn’t been aiming for a fashion statement in those dark jeans and brown cowboy boots, but damn she could barely keep herself from swooning. He’d had on a brown Staten to match his boots, so it had been hard to see the color of his hair, but she’d seen the back of his nape and knew he had black as midnight hair, or a very dark brown.

  He was beautiful. Dangerously, enticingly, beautiful.

  And off limits. Her shoulders dropped slightly. Even if he wasn’t, she obviously wasn’t his cup of tea. The way he had stared at her while leaving as a good enough testament to that.

  Pushing her hair back off her shoulders, she was just about to go into an adjoining store, but was stopped by six old women, all with white hair, and all with wide, watching eyes.

  She grimaced.

  “You and Logan have met, haven’t you?” asked one, while another came forward to peer up at her.

  “Logan?” She was confused, and backing away from them.

  “Oh, yes, yes. Logan Marshal! Of course you know him,” cooed a different old woman, patting her hand. “But what on earth did you do to make him so angry? I’ve never seen him look at a woman like that before.”

  Her brows lowered, confused. These old women were fluttering around her, touching her hair, asking her questions after the main speaker did, and she was expected to know what she’d done to piss off a virtual stranger?

  Claire’s face started to flame. She backed away from them. “Uh, listen --I have things that I need to get done...”

  They waved their hands at her, laughing at her feeble attempts to get away.

  “Hush, dear. We just want to have a little chat.” The way that was said to her instantly put her on guard. One of the women’s eyes, in the far back of the group, was sly. Like a cat waiting for milk, she thought with instant guard.

  “I can’t. Sorry,” she said evasively, before going into the store and praying that they stayed outside of the store.

  They did, and walked down the sidewalk with their voices hushed. She felt as if she’d just made big mistake and she had no idea what to do about it.

  She paid attention to what she needed for her stay here, instead of going over what had happened. It was over and she couldn’t do anything about it.

  Claire had always had an aversion to hotel pillows. Something about how stiff and used they were bugged her.

  She’d realized on her way here that she’d have a problem full-out shopping. The elevator at the hotel was broke, and she would have to walk up the stairs. She couldn’t do that with hands full of bags, and plus, she wanted a least one free hand to fend off Gerry if he came up to her, which she had no doubt he would since he’d tried while she was leaving.

  There were shampoo bottles at the hotel that she could use, so she had decided to make this trip about pillows and bedding. She would eat out tonight and then get food tomorrow, and then shampoo’s and conditioner's the next day.

  She also decided that it was a good idea that she was spreading out her shopping. If she was lucky, a lot of people wouldn’t notice her single-trip days and no one would be aware that she was even here.

  Except for the man...she had a feeling that he had noticed her.

  A lot.

  Her face heated again as she went through the isles of the bed and bath store, looking to see if they would have her favorite brand of pillows. Of course, though, they didn’t. The brand that she liked was expensive, one her father always had to order in for her.

  She picked the best she could, trying to hide her disappointment. She asked the store owner if she could hold the pillows for her while she went out to dinner. It would be smarter to eat and then purchase them, so that she wasn’t carrying around a bag of pillows while she tried to find a place to eat.

  Nodding to herself as she began out of the small, cozy store with lower ceilings and carpet floors, she was shocked at how late it had gotten.

  When she’d began her shopping and private tour of the small town where everyone seemed to know everyone else, it had been bright with the sun still in the sky. Only two hours later and it was starting to set.

  She looked to the sky, and her eyes widened. It was so beautiful. The blues of the sky had been replaced by soft purples and oranges, and the lines of clouds streaked across the skies like flags. The sun was a deep red and it took her breath away.

  Feeling warm inside, almost forgetting about why she was there in the first place, she started to walk around again, looking for a diner and sometimes at the sky. The darker it got, the more violet it got.

  The town had everything, as small as it was. There were two clothing stores, three hardware stores, a vet that was really active even this late, and four different restaurants with a laundry mat right next to it. On the other side of the restaurant, was a better hotel than what she was staying at, and across the street was hers.

  Grimacing, she went into the diner and held her purse tightly, not knowing what to do.

  She’d never been anywhere but to restaurants where waiters served her. There was no one to tell her where to sit, or greet her. She had no one with her to help her with what to do, and when every eye turned to her, she felt helpless.

  And scared.

  Actually, she was terrified. Claire had never had to deal with something like this before. Feeling her cheeks burn, she hesitantly walked into the diner and tried to ignore all of the eyes that were watching her like she had her head cut off.

  While the diner itself was cute and welcoming, it seemed the people were anything but. There were tables all over the white and lime green tiled floors, and several booths set up against walls that were lined with white and an almost unnoticeable yellow stripped pattern.

  The remaining sunlight that poured in from the windows cast a golden glow into the room, accenting the yellows and greens. She would have felt completely at peace here, if she had known what to do and if people hadn’t been staring at her.

  At the back of diner, there was an open kitchen and a bar set up at the counter. She decided that the safest bet was to sit at the bar. It was a lot easier to evade company, whereas at a table, it invited someone to sit with her. Stomach tight, she sat at the bar and was wondering how to get their attention when a woman, probably near the age of fifty, with dark yet greying hair, popped up from the counter, smiling widely to the new visitor.

  “What can I get for you today, sweetie? Want to start off with a drink?” she asked, taking pen and paper out of her apron, ready to take her order.

  Claire nodded, looking around for a type of menu.

  It appeared right in front of her face. Trying to cover how awkward she felt, sh
e gave the woman a small smile. Her eyes flickered over the name tag she wore. Claire looked at the menu for a second and said, “I’ll take a milk, please.”

  Darla, as her name tag had read, smiled. “I’ll be back with that in a jiffy. Just let me know when you’re ready to order.”

  Claire nodded at her and then went back to looking at the menu. She already knew what she was going to get, but had to give herself something to do so she didn’t feel so awkward and out of place.

  The bell to the diner ringed, signaling that someone knew had entered. So out of place that she felt, paranoia caused her to turn her head to see who had entered.

  Her breath caught in her throat and she regretted looking.

  It was the man, the same one who had seen her outside of the pharmacy. At first, he had a relaxed look about him. He didn’t notice her staring. He came up to the bar, just several seats down from where she was, and called out to Darla saying hello.

  Oh, good lord.

  His voice.

  It was deep and masculine and it sent shivers down her back. She should have known that his voice would be as great as his face...and body. She clenched her hands around the menu to keep from showing how much his presence was affecting her.

  She kept silent, even as Darla come over to greet him with Claire’s milk in her hand. “Here you go, honey. Did you decide on what you wanted to get?”

  Claire pointed at the menu, forcing herself to ignore the sudden pair of eyes she felt on her back. “Just the burger,” she said quietly, wishing she could sink under the counter. His eyes on her, and the heat she could feel coming from them, was doing a lot more than affecting her.

  “Comin’ right up!” Darla said, smiling widely.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, fingering the strap of her backpack and staring at the table, hoping it made Darla talk to the man instead of her.

  But, that didn’t happen.

  Nope.

  Instead, she talked to both of them.

  “So, Logan, have you met Claire yet?”

  She started. How the heck had Darla known her name?

  “I haven’t,” he said shortly, taking a seat three over from hers. It was intentional.

  “She’s been the talk of the town ever since that taxi dropped her off!” Darla chirped, patting Claire’s hand.

  Oh god. Did everyone know everything? She could have sworn that no one had seen her enter the hotel.

  She rubbed a hand over her face, beginning to think coming here had been a horrible idea. These people were way too close-nit for her.

  “Well, tell us your last name,” the woman coaxed, leaning over the counter on her elbows. Even though Claire couldn’t see the man, she was aware enough to know that he was barely paying attention, choosing instead to reach over the counter and pour himself a cup of coffee.

  “Claire Brady,” she said, a lie. She hadn’t been aware she’d told anyone her real name, or anything about her for that matter, but she would remember to be vague about her identity. She was surprised that some of these people didn’t know who she was, but that wasn’t a problem for her at all. Who would recognize a supposed dead woman, anyways?

  All she really hoped was that they didn’t notice she was lying. Claire had never been a liar, and she felt horrible doing it now.

  Even though it was necessary...

  Darla grinned at her. “Claire Brady, meet Logan Marshal. I’m Darla Pedersen and my husband and I own this diner. We live just down the block from here.”

  Claire smiled at her. “That’s wonderful. I like that atmosphere in here, it’s very warm.” In all honesty, she didn’t know what to say. She only had a few friends, and those were her father’s friend’s children. When she talked to other people, it was at formal gatherings and she was required to smile, give compliments, and look glamorous by her father. It had never bothered her before, but now that she was out in the open, where normal people were, she had no clue how to act, and now it did bother her.

  Darla smiled wider, obviously pleased by the compliment.

  “You are such a sweetheart! Anyways, have you met Logan yet?”

  Her eyes flickered over to the huge man and the image of him staring at her like he was entranced came to her mind.

  Just then, he turned and looked at her. She didn’t expect the annoyance that entered his eyes, or the warning. He obviously didn’t want her mentioning anything.

  Claire shook her head, looking away from him.

  “I’ll introduce you to now, then! Claire, this is Logan Marshal. He owns the Marshal Ranch down the road from here. He used to be a marine and he’s really quite --”

  “Darla,” he said in warning. The deepness of his voice made her shiver despite herself.

  “Sorry, sorry,” she laughed, turning around to grab the ready burger that was sitting on the kitchen counter, right above the sinks. She put it in front of Claire and smiled. “It’s on the house. We welcome new visitors here. Consider it a welcoming gift.”

  Claire looked at her, shocked. “Oh, no, it’s okay. I can pay for it -- I won’t be here for long, just a couple of weeks, maybe a month or two.”

  “Well that’s long enough for me! It’s on the house, and don’t argue,” she said sternly, pointing her pen at Claire. Smiling yet feeling awkward, Claire took a bite and tried to it so the woman left her alone. Claire liked her, she was nice, but the point of coming out here hadn’t been to make new friends and gain attention.

  “So where are you staying?” Darla asked, unaware that Claire was desperate for her to leave, or maybe she knew but chose to ignore it. Everyone here seemed so nosy. Claire swallowed and answered out of politeness.

  “That hotel across the street --”

  Darla gasped, making her stop.

  “What?” she asked, taking another bite of her sandwich. It was hard not to make a mess; she was so hungry she could have inhaled it.

  “Why on earth...there is a cheaper hotel across the street and it’s in much better condition!” Darla said, obviously shocked at Claire’s choice.

  Claire shrugged, unable to explain her reasons for picking a run-down hotel with a creep for an owner.

  “Have you met Gerry then?” her curious friend asked, a frown marring her aging face.

  She grimaced, and felt Logan’s eyes go over her face. She looked at him head-on, lips pressed, not knowing what to say.

  Just then, she was aware of the whole entire diner listening in on her conversation. She dropped Logan’s eyes, face pink. She took one more bite and set the sandwich down, grabbing her backpack.

  “I have to go now -- thank you so much for the sandwich. I’ll make sure to stop in next time for a bite.” That was a straight lie. She wasn’t leaving her hotel room at all, except to get the things she needed.

  Then she was done exploring and drawing attention.

  “You only took two bites!” she exclaimed, standing up from the counter. “At least let me get you a to-go box.”

  Claire waited while she grabbed one, picking at the strap to her backpack. Logan was still staring at her and it was harder to ignore it. He commanded attention, and it was enthralling.

  She trained her eyes on the ground, only looking up when Darla came back with a Styrofoam box in her hand. Claire put the sandwich in and then started to move toward the door, anxious to get away. Her life had changed, and she was having a hard time adjusting to it. She didn’t know how to hold conversation with a normal person, and while she was used to the attention she gained at her father’s parties, she was not used to the blatantly judgeful stares she was getting from the people sitting around her.

  Everyone was nice to her, where she was from. She never slipped up, she was always kind and thoughtful of other people, and the old ladies adored her. If you were good with the old people, you were good for everyone else. Because like it or not, they held the power.

  She pushed open the door and the bell chimed.

  It had gotten darker outside, she noticed as she starte
d to walk to the store she had been at. She had yet to pick up her pillows and she refused to sleep on the gross hotel ones. They were thin and hard and fakely sterile-smelling. Even smelling about it made her stomach hurt.

  Claire held onto her backpack straps tightly as she crossed the street, trying to hurry and dreading going back to the hotel where Gerry was.

  ---------------------------------------------

  “Can you believe that she’s staying at that rat hole? With that nasty Gerry there?!”

  Logan listened to Darla rant and had to agree with her disgust. Even he didn’t like the thought of a woman staying here. It was the place that druggies and thugs went when they couldn’t afford normal rent. There had been many times where the town was woken up by police sirens because of that hotel, and Gerry had a record for going after young women who wanted nothing to do with him.

  There had also been a close call with a girl who had lived here a couple years ago. He hadn’t taken the hint and had stalked her. Later, when she suddenly disappeared, it was rumored that he’d attacked her and she had moved to a different state. He never mentioned it to anyone and no one asked. But, that same year, everyone began locking their doors at night and making sure their children were in before dark.

  Logan himself had a collection of shotguns, and even though they weren’t reserved for Gerry, he was prepared to use one should the little creep come onto his property without permission.

  He wasn’t biased or conceited in the least, but he knew that Gerry was scared of him. Almost everyone was. They thought he was a loose cannon and he was perfectly fine with that. If the people in this town left him alone, all the better.

  Darla hit his arm lightly, drawing his attention. Her eyes were lit up with an inner glow that made him frown. “I know what we could do!” she said excitedly, rapping her pen on the table as she thought.

  “What do you mean.” Logan really didn’t want to know.

  “Well, I was thinkin’ that maybe you could offer to let her stay with you so she doesn’t have to stay with that pervert Gerry! Did you see her face? I bet he’d already tried going after him.”