Shelly glanced over her shoulder. “Just keep them away from those cream pies and you might be right.”
“Yeah,” Candice agreed, eyeing the door. “Let’s give all the pie to Chase’s kids.” Her brother, Chase, led a trail of bodies into the house. His wife was first in line behind him, griping under her breath at his heels. “You never get home when you say you’re going to, I swear.”
“What am I supposed to do, Tiff?” Chase plopped a bag of store-bought rolls onto the counter. “I’m the manager of the place. It comes with the job.” He caught eye contact with Candice, shooting her a wink as Tiff snapped back a reply. Candice gave him an apologetic grin, the public argument making her glad she and Logan had lived out of state most of their married lives. She missed what Tiff had said in reply, but the heated glare the woman gave Chase could have turned him to ashes.
She stifled the question that popped into her mind each time she was around the couple, but it lingered there just the same: Why had Chase – who’d had a sea of women after him since his junior year – picked someone like Tiff? To drown out the question she began listing Tiff’s good qualities: She was creative, good at decorating. She had a great sense of humor, and she always had her two kids looking like they’d just stepped off the cover of a kid’s magazine.
The kids rushed to her feet, and Candice hunched down, gaining a hug from each. “Hey, guys, I have something fun for you to do. Let’s find Ryan and Ross and I’ll show you.”
Candice got the group started on their table project while Marge and Shelly made a few last minute preparations. Candice had just finished explaining the craft when one of her nephews tapped her arm. She glanced down, bending closer as eight-year-old Ryan motioned her near.
“I want to sit by cousin Trish,” he said in a warm whisper against her face.
Candice’s eyes widened. “You do?”
He nodded.
“Oh.” She looked over the table. “Trish, why don’t you and Ross trade places? We’ll have you sit over here next to Ryan instead.”
Trish, Chase’s little girl, grinned as she settled into her new seat, her small shoulders high and proper. Ryan returned her smile with a wink. A full-on wink! Candice hid a gasp with her hand, resisting the urge to remind her Casanova nephew that he was only in the second grade. Anyhow, chances were – when he told his parents about his affections – poor little Ryan would get the horrifying you-can’t-marry-your-cousin talk and his hopes would be crushed.
“Everybody hush up, in there,” Boyd hollered from the other room. “It’s time to bless this food so we can eat.”
Just as Candice leaned down to get the small group quieted, she heard her mother whispering something in return. Marge whispered the way some of her students did during study period, a sharp and toneless hiss that made her ears ache. “We’ve still got one more coming.”
“We are not expecting anybody else,” Boyd assured, “everyone’s already here.”
“No,” Marge argued, “I told you I invited someone else.”
Silence. Even the kids went quiet, some with their arms folded waiting for the prayer. A knock came at the door then, as if on cue.
Candice’s eyes shot to the white, paneled door.
“Come on in,” Marge yelled.
Trish patted Candice’s arm and pointed across the table. Her little cousin, Ross, had stuck foam stickers onto his eyelids. The blue dots looking like strange, cartoonish eyes. He put his arms straight out before him like a zombie, moaning and giggling at the same time.
Candice couldn’t help but laugh with the others. Ross was a ham, just like Shelly. Even as a kindergartener, the kid could entertain a roomful.
The door creaked to a slow close, and Candice looked up to see their extra guest. Tall, dark, and completely unexpected, Logan stood at the entryway. Her eyes grew wide. If seeing her nephew flirt with his cousin had surprised Candice, the sight before her was an outright shock.
Logan offered an awkward wave and timid smile while tiny cracks formed trails into Candice’s heart. Trails that would lead her right back to places she’d already been. Spots she had chosen to leave behind.
The kids rushed over to greet him. But Candice stood rooted in place, her splintered heart picking up pace, working to piece itself back together again. When she could no longer take it, Candice darted out of the room and through the kitchen. A roomful of family caught in their own world. Completely unaware.
“Mom.” The word was weak on her tongue.
Marge turned to look at her. The room stilled.
Candice’s eyes locked on her mother’s. Pale. Blue. Questioning.
She wanted to explain that she’d ruined everything Candice had worked toward over the last year. That, in one careless move, she’d ripped the healing scabs from her heart. Candice folded her arms, her hands feeling cold and numb, and forced out the only thing that would come to her lips. “What in the world are you trying to do?”
CHAPTER THREE
Logan stared down at his plate of food, wondering why he’d agreed to come to dinner. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been greeted properly, by everyone but Candice, that is. The family had welcomed him with sincere interest and warm smiles. Heck, his niece and nephews had made him feel like a million bucks the way they bombarded him when he’d walked through the door.
“Could someone pass the potato salad?”
Logan glanced up from his plate; the potato salad was directly in front of him. It seemed Tiff had either forgotten his name, or refused to address him directly. A quick glance at her python-ready-to-strike glare had him recoiling. Perhaps there were two here who weren’t so happy to see him.
“Sure.” Logan handed the container to Chase who gave it to Tiff, then set his thoughts back where they’d been. He felt angry for some reason, hostile, even. Though he couldn’t exactly account for it. Sure, it would have been nice for Candice to greet him better than she had, but nothing about her quiet, standoffish behavior was a surprise. So what exactly had him so cranky?
“How are you folks handling the late snow?” Marge asked. “At the ranch, that is.”
It took Logan a moment to realize she’d been addressing him. He turned his attention toward his mother-in-law. “What was that?”
“Don’t the cattle run out of food about this time of year? Start feeding on the growing greens by now?” She spoke from experience. Up until Candice’s father died, Marge’s late husband ran the ranch they lived on. They’d sold the acres once he passed, convinced the tumultuous lifestyle had put him in an early grave. It was the same reason Candice supported Logan’s decision to skip ranching and become a vet instead.
“Yeah,” Logan said, “they’re usually eating the greens by now, but we’re holding up all right, I guess.” He rested his forearm on the table, glad Candice was seated directly at his side; it made keeping his gaze off her easy. “In fact, we just put in an order to have some feed brought in to get us through the month. It was more painful for my Uncle Grant, of course, with as many cattle as they have. Most of what we brought in was for them. That’s a huge chunk of change.”
Marge nodded. “I can imagine.”
“They’ve had a few real good years though,” Logan added, “so it shouldn’t hurt them too much.”
“Well, that’s good,” Boyd said. “Sounds like you guys will come out of it just fine.” The others nodded in agreement. Boyd, Marge’s soon-to-be fiancé, was as friendly as he was loud, and Logan mused he’d make a perfect match for his mother-in-law.
When the table reduced to the sounds of scraping forks and quiet chatter, Logan’s gaze veered over to Candice. She was a key piece to the mental puzzle he was working to solve. The one that might explain his sudden shift in mood the moment he’d arrived. He eyed her plate first, frowning when he saw that her food had barely been touched. While covering a cough, he tilted his head just enough to get a good look at the expression on her face. She was taking a sip of her drink, yet just as she set the glass down, her pretty green eyes
darted to him.
Logan grinned, if for nothing more than the odd nature of the situation. “Hi,” he said in a whisper.
Her face flushed red. Her blonde brows furrowed. And her lip twitched the slightest bit at one corner. After a very Candice eye-roll, she answered back. “Hi.”
Just why on earth was his pulse rising? Heck, he’d been married to the woman for nearly ten years. It increased even more as Candice brought her mouth close to his shoulder. Racing – his pulse was racing now.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, “but why are you here?”
Logan set his fork down, reached for his cup, and muttered behind the glass. “Because your mother asked me to come.”
“You could have said no.”
That comment brought back that angry surge of heat. “What’s it to you?”
Candice shrugged. “I just think it’s weird. I don’t come to your family things.”
“I don’t come to yours either, precious, this is the first one in – ”
“Precious?” Candice scrunched her face in disgust.
Logan bit back his words as he caught sight of Chase, Candice’s brother. As if playing a game of charades with only him, Chase made a stabbing motion to his eye with his fork. The sight made Logan laugh out loud, despite the tension he felt. He guessed Chase was on the outs with Tiff as well.
The camaraderie between them was a welcome thing, if only it was enough to ignore the glare coming from Candice’s direction. With his gaze set back on his plate, Logan tilted his head toward her, working to keep his voice low. “Look, if you want me to leave, I will.”
“Can I get everyone’s attention?” Boyd pushed away from the table and came to a stand. He was a large man. Big in stature and round along the edges. He beamed down at Marge, a wide grin at his narrow lips. “You want to have the grandkids come in too?”
Marge nodded, coming to a stand as she hollered for the kids to join them. She fiddled with her hair as the little ones – lined up like a train – chugged around the corner. Each child had their small hands clenched onto the shoulders in front. Ross, the smallest of the bunch, led the way. “Choo, choo!” he bellowed.
Logan glanced at Candice in time to see the color drain from her face. Odd. He thought she’d be smiling at the kids and their … Oh. He followed her gaze across the table, saw Marge’s fingers laced through Boyd’s as the two waited for the kids to settle into place.
“Do you want to go ahead, or should I?” Boyd asked.
“I’ll do it.”
“Do what?” Ross asked from across the room?
Marge was glowing. “Tell you guys the good news,” she said. “Boyd has asked me to marry him!”
The kids jumped up and down, cheering and giving high fives. Candice’s siblings were on their feet at once, congratulating the happy couple on their engagement. Asking questions about the date. Tiff asked about the ring, prompting Boyd to pull a small box from his pocket.
“Guess it’s time for me to give this to you,” he said. The box tumbled from his hands and onto the table. “I’m a little nervous,” Boyd admitted, grabbing the box and cracking it open. He placed the ring onto Marge’s finger while Shelly and Tiff oohed and awed. Chase pulled out his phone and shot a picture of them. But Candice held still. Stunned into silence as the scene unfolded before her. A life-change, as her mother said it would be.
“Hey,” Logan muttered under his breath, “do you want to get out of here?”
Her gaze shot to him. If he hadn’t known better, Logan might think she’d just witnessed a tragedy. The horror etched in her face was nearly comical.
“You mean like, on a drive?”
He nodded, glad he was no longer the center of her angst.
She scratched her forehead while pondering. “Just leave? Without saying anything?”
Logan tipped his head. “Congratulate them first. Tell them you’d like some fresh air. And then we leave.”
She gave him a weak nod.
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll go first.”
Candice stayed glued to her seat as Logan came to a stand and rounded the table. “Congratulations, you two,” he said, offering his hand.
Boyd wrestled him into a bear hug instead. “Thank you, my boy. Glad you could make it.”
“Me too. And thank you for the fine dinner. Unfortunately I have to get going.” He turned around to see Candice still sitting on the edge of her seat, looking like she’d been handed a death sentence. “I told Candice I’d run her to the market. She’s got a migraine coming on and needs to renew her prescription.”
“I thought – ” Marge started to say, but then she caught herself and gave Logan a knowing look. “I believe you’re right. You kids run along.”
Logan sighed in relief as he spun around and motioned for Candice to join him. “Thanks again for dinner.” He would have liked to say goodbye to everyone properly, especially since he couldn’t be sure when he’d see them again, but the matter was urgent.
Candice didn’t say a word to her mother or Boyd. Simply dashed ahead of him, out of the room, and toward the front door.
Logan snatched the coat he saw draped along the back of a chair, recognizing it as hers. He held his hand out to stop the screen door from hitting him in the face and trailed after her.
It was dark out. Already the sky had shifted from blue to black.
Candice stopped in her tracks and spun in place. “Where’s your car?”
“I traded it in,” Logan said, pressing on his key. The lights on his truck flashed as it unlocked just yards away.
“A pickup?” She sounded annoyed.
“I’m running a ranch now, honey. I’m a regular old country hick, just like you said I’d be.” The words had come out faster than he could control them, each coated in a bitterness that only years could create.
Candice shot him a glare before striding toward the passenger side of the truck. Logan opened her door and offered his hand.
“I can get in there myself,” she assured, stepping onto the running board. She’d always hated big trucks with oversized wheels. Something Logan had relished when he purchased tires nearly half her height. After a bit of effort, she made her way onto the seat with a grunt. Once there, Candice folded her arms and shook her head.
“I can’t believe it,” she said once Logan settled into place. “I cannot believe those two are getting married.”
Logan roared up the truck and backed out of the drive. “He seems like a good guy.” He’d been with Candice long enough to know offering this comment was like prodding at an ornery kitten. And in all of his practice, he never escaped such encounters without a few good scratches.
“What?” By the tone of her voice he’d say the claws were out. “Sure he’s a nice guy, but that doesn’t mean they should get married. I thought they were more like friends.” Her sentence ended like someone had snipped it off with a pair of scissors. “Except Marge did tell me they’ve been getting kind of cozy. I guess I just didn’t take her seriously. I never thought they’d get married.” She groaned and threw her head back. “Here I spent all those years encouraging her to move on and remarry and just when she has me convinced that it’ll never happen she gets engaged to freaking Boyd McGallister. Boyd is … Dennis the Menace. Did you ever hear of that show? It was in black and white and the kid always got into trouble making his neighbor’s life hell?”
Logan hid a grin. “Of course I know who Dennis the Menace is.”
“He’s like that. Always goofing off and messing around. I feel like I’m babysitting when the two are together.”
Logan flicked on the blinker as he neared a stop sign, hiding the chuckle that climbed up his throat.
“It’s not funny,” she assured. “And you know what’s even more annoying? The fact that nobody in my family wants to tell me good news. Like I’m some mean little troll who wants everyone else to be as lonely as I am.”
Lonely? He got snagged on the word for a moment. Can
dice was lonely. Just like him.
“And it’s stupid because I just had a conversation about it with my mom like, minutes before you got there. I was asking her why Shelly would tell her about this really great thing in her life and not me and now that I think about it, I bet my mom already told everyone about her and Boyd.” She was getting worked up now. Her voice tight and tense. “And here’s dumb old Candice thinking they’re just friends when everyone knows they’re like, making out behind my back…” She broke off there and shuddered.
“Huh.” It was all Logan could manage. He was treading on dangerous territory here. And though her whole TV comparison had caused him to smile he was still trying to figure out a way to cure Candice of her lonely condition.
“Did she tell you?”
Her question was like a fly ball no one warned him about. “Tell me what?”
Candice tilted her head. “That she was getting married.”
There was no way to get out from under her scrutinizing gaze. No way to avoid the question that sounded more like an accusation than anything else. “Yes,” he blurted.
Her mouth hung open for a moment. Logan had every reason to keep his eyes on the road. Dark night. Slippery streets. Flurries of snow falling before them. But the hurt he saw on Candice’s face gripped hold of him and didn’t let go. His heart groaned at the ache of it.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She clammed up then, brought her thumb to her lip and chewed at the nail. It stayed quiet until her phone let out a short, sharp beep, gaining her attention. Logon glanced over in time to see a smile cross over her mouth. It wasn’t a big smile, just a small, pleasant grin, but he couldn’t help but wonder whose text she was looking at.
It wasn’t any of his business – he knew that much. So he had no right to ask. None. He repositioned his grip on the wheel and let out a puff of air. “Who’s that from?” he blurted, unable to hold it back.
Her thumbs were busy at work. The bright screen lighting the entire cab. “Lana,” she said. “I’ve been trying to get her to come visit, but so far I haven’t had any luck.”
Mending Hearts: Logan's Story Page 2
