She glanced to the nightstand. A weathered novel rested on the edge, its corners crumpled and worn. A murder mystery. How long had it been since she’d seen him reading one of those? A smile crept over her face. Logan really did seem to be back to his old self. But why had he given so much of it up to begin with? The craziness of school and work and running his practice? Or did it have more to do with her? Candice vowed that if it had anything to do with her she would rectify that. She didn’t want Logan losing pieces of himself for her. She loved those pieces.
“You’re welcome to try it out, but I assure you it’s not as comfortable as the other.” Logan’s deep, booming voice took Candice by surprise. He stepped closer, nudged up against her from behind, and cupped her elbows with his palms. “Of course, if we get in there together, I’m sure we could get pretty cozy.”
A deep thrill rose in her chest. Every sense she owned stirring into action:
The sound of Logan’s deep voice.
The pleasing scent of him all around her.
The sight of his large hands gliding down the length of her arms.
The feel of his body next to hers.
And though his kiss was only a memory to her now, she could nearly taste him in that moment too.
“What do you say?” he mumbled, his warm breath flittering over her neck. Heating and teasing all at once. Mmm. She let her eyes close – for only a second – before remembering herself.
At once Candice stepped away, gaining distance before spinning to face him. The passion she saw storming in his eyes should have drawn her in deeper, but it woke her further instead. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.” She pulled in a deep breath, tried to slow it as she exhaled, and offered the slight shake of her head.
A smile crept over Logan’s lips. The intensity she’d seen only moments ago shifting into something else. Something she couldn’t quite read. “We haven’t done anything yet, Love,” he said in a low voice.
“And that’s how we need to keep it,” she said. “Like we agreed.”
He gave her a single nod. “Fine by me.”
“It is?”
“Yes. I was merely playing with you, Candice.” Amusement danced in his dark eyes.
Whoa. He was playing with her alright. And he was winning. “Good,” she snapped, walking toward the doorway. But Logan caught her by the hand as she passed. His fingertips trailed up her wrist.
Goosebumps spread over her arms.
“I finished things up in the kitchen,” he said. “I thought we could take a look at the yard out back.”
Candice’s mind was everywhere at once. And no place in particular. Just a bunch of sloppy images whirling through her mind. The cinnamon toothpaste. The novel at his bedside. The bright, tempting bed beside him. The intoxicating scent of him had her picturing lazy Sunday mornings on a sunlit bed with him. It made her wonder why she was holding back at all. Logan was hers for the taking and she knew it.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she blurted, rushing out of the room. In seconds Candice was down the hall, through the front door, and out on the porch. Her breaths had picked up to the point of panic. Loud, shaky, and quick. She knew there was something to be afraid of, she knew it. It would just take her a moment to recall… And there it came. Right on cue. Sleepless nights of wishing and waiting. An endless stream of pregnancy tests, not one showing a positive sign after the miscarriage. Not. Even. One. The loss of the baby. Empty arms and an empty crib. The hollow ache in her heart.
A flood of dread fell over her. Dark, heavy, and mean. But familiar. And as unfriendly as it was, the pain was almost a comfort. She knew what to do with it. How to use it to her advantage. Pain like this could cause an entire army to take guard over her heart, and here she was, calling it to the surface. Summoning it like some magical spell.
Coward, an inner voice scolded. She was a coward if she let this stop her. Sure she could rely on the familiar method of closing Logan off – mystic or not – and use it to undo the progress she’d made. But would this magic spell bring her the happy ending she always dreamed of, or would it keep her from reaching the happiness she actually stood to gain?
~+~
Logan wasn’t sure he could take it. What was the old saying – give them an inch they take a mile? Seemed the story of his life was step forward an inch and Candice would run a mile. In the opposite direction. “Damn it,” he grumbled, kicking the doorframe. He sunk a hand into his pocket and fisted the keys he found there. He wanted nothing more than to get in his truck and drive. Let Candice spend the day sulking about her miserable new fate of living with him in a home they’d admired since the day it was built with nothing but promise and a blue sky ahead of them.
What a joke. There had been times he was sure Candice felt something for him, but now he wasn’t so sure. Perhaps he’d been imagining it all along. He had to get out of there. Out of the house in the least of it. He’d planned to take Candice to the back yard, show her the patch of dirt he’d tilled, and spend the rest of the day getting a garden started with her. Perhaps he should put in half-a-day’s work instead. Get a few pressing ranch chores crossed off the list. Only he didn’t want to start up that habit again. Dive into work when things were too complicated at home.
Logan pushed out a labored breath as he weaved through the house, making his way to the deck off the kitchen. The sun was high, its hot rays dryer than they’d felt earlier that day. The land beyond the yard was option one. Cattle grazing in the distance. A fence line he’d been meaning to check for weeks now. Option two was closer. Just a few feet from the massive deck. A patch of dirt that held more promise than he wanted to admit. He knew how much Candice needed that garden. Knew it would give her just what the doctor would order: fresh air, sunlight, and something to care for. With that thought pushing him on, Logan pulled out his phone and typed a text to Candice, unsure as to where she’d run off to.
Come to the backyard please. I’d like to show you something.
As he shoved his phone back into his pocket, Logan realized it was possible Candice had left altogether. Maybe she was miles away by now, talking to Shelly about Shelly’s baby. Shelly’s kids. Shelly’s husband. Anything but her own life… His phone let out a buzz. The screen lit up with her reply.
Okay.
That was it? Okay? Of course his heart didn’t seem disappointed. Foolish thing was pumping into an excited rhythm for no reason at all.
“Hi.” Her voice was silk. Smooth and lovely, but lacking the warmth he craved.
Logan spun to see her walking along the grass, the leisurely pace causing her hips to swing and sway. A slow strut. She folded her arms over her chest as she neared. Pointed her bare feet inwardly as she looked down.
“Were you out front?”
She nodded.
“I squared off this patch of dirt,” he said, motioning to the spot off the lawn. “Thought if we wanted to do a garden we should do it now. Go get all the supplies.”
She glanced at the spot and shrugged. “Alright.”
“So you want to come?” he asked.
“Sure. I’ll get my shoes.” And then she was gone.
Alright? Sure? I’ll get my shoes? No ‘that would be great,’ or ‘thanks for going to all that trouble.’ She’d never been this difficult to please before. Candice had been quite the opposite. But perhaps she’d changed. Maybe this new Candice was going to be a hard-to-please, pouty woman who did nothing but moan and gripe and make herself miserable. Not to mention those around her.
A thought occurred to him in that moment – one he couldn’t believe hadn’t struck him before: Logan wasn’t the only one on trial here. This wasn’t a game of let’s-see-if-Candice-would-take-him-back. This was a whole lot bigger. What if Candice’s concerns were more relevant than he thought? Maybe they weren’t right for each other after all. It occurred to him that if the adoption agency called tomorrow, saying they had a baby just for them, he wouldn’t be able to accept – not in good conscience. Logan wasn’
t willing to stay with someone who didn’t love him. And he certainly wouldn’t drag a child into such an unknown place.
Yep, he resolved, watching as she climbed into the truck on her own, Candice wasn’t the only one with a choice to make. Logan had to think of his future too, and the future of any little souls that might come along. Maybe – just maybe – staying with Candice wasn’t the best thing after all.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“You going to walk around with your arms crossed like that the whole time?”
Candice shuffled along the dirt walkway behind Logan, straining to keep up. “What did you say?” She could hardly tell, as far ahead as he was.
Logan glanced over his shoulder briefly to look her up and down. “I asked if you were going to keep your arms folded like that the entire time. It’s weird.”
“Weird?” she squeaked, walking faster to catch up with him.
“Yes.” Logan grabbed a flatbed cart, reached for a few shallow boxes, and proceeded through the open flap of a massive white tent. A sea of green sprouts in small pots filled the area, each labeled with pictures and prices.
“Lots of people walk around with their arms crossed, Logan, in case you haven’t noticed.”
He stopped in his tracks, gave her a wry look over one shoulder. “Yeah. If they’re weird.”
Candice sneered.
“Or ornery,” he added, “like in your case.”
“I wasn’t mad until you said that. And maybe we should talk about how you walk for a second, Speedy Gonzalez. You’re the weird one. Racing ahead of me so I can barely keep up.” She was getting madder by the minute. Why was he picking on her?
“What did you call me?”
“Speedy Gonzalez. The cartoon mouse.”
“Candice, is that you?” The loud but frail-sounding voice took Candice by surprise. She spun around to see exactly who she imagined she might.
“Ruth?”
“Yes, child. How are you?”
The small woman shuffled toward her, one foot after the next, securing a thin shawl over her knobby shoulders as she went. Metal bracelets clanked along her wrists, lines of silver and turquoise. Wow, it really was Ruth. Her face had aged, her hands too, deep wrinkles lining her pale skin. But her eyes were the same. A mix between blue and green, just like Dad’s.
“Marge and Boyd told me you two had moved back here. We were in Phoenix during the wedding so I didn’t get to see you.” She reached her thin arms out, motioned for Candice to come closer. “Here,” she said, “come give Auntie Ruth a love.”
Candice wrapped her arms around her father’s only sister.
“I sure am happy for your mother,” Ruth said. “Good for her.”
Candice nodded. “Yeah. I am too. And I didn’t realize you guys were still running the nursery. Didn’t Clint take over?”
“Oh, he did. We’re just a couple of part-time workers now, is all,” Ruth said with a wink. She turned her head to the side in a slow, very obvious manner, her gaze following Logan as he made his way to the far corner of the tent. “And just where does he think he’s going?”
Candice rolled her eyes. “I don’t know.”
Ruth brought a hand to her chin, scrunched her face as she looked at Logan, and then Candice in turn. “Hmm. You two going to plant a garden together this year?”
Candice gave her a single shrug. “I guess.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said, not seeming to pick up on Candice’s tone. “Planting a garden is one of the most satisfying things you can do.”
Candice managed a smile. She was glad to see Ruth, genuinely so, but the timing was off. Why’d she have to bump into her when she was so irritated with Logan? And he just kept making it worse. Walking ahead of her. Selecting plants without her. Not stopping to acknowledge her Aunt Ruth. Candice reached for her phone. “Just a second.”
Ruth stretched her neck to glance down at the phone. “What are you doing?”
“Just getting Logan’s attention.” Candice tapped a few keys and brought the phone to her ear.
“Couldn’t you just holler at him?” Ruth asked.
Candice got a kick out of watching Logan struggle with the plants he held. Three pots were pinned against his stomach with his arm, another four were balancing within his large hands. He hurried down the narrow path to the cart, tripping over a green hose, and then set down each container in turn. At last he retrieved his phone, irritation from the moment showing on his face. He brought it to his ear without even looking at the screen.
“This is Logan,” he said.
“Hi,” Candice said in a cheery voice. “How are you?”
Logan shot her a glare from across the tent. “Fine,” he managed without unclenching his teeth. “Why are you calling me?”
“Because I thought you might want to come say hi to my Aunt Ruth, that’s why.”
“That’s your Aunt Ruth?” He sounded surprised. Shocked was more like it. Like he’d expected her to be dead by now. Or like she looked beyond recognition.
Candice shot invisible darts at him with her eyes. “Yes, silly. Come say hi. And make it quick, my little speedster.”
Candice ended the call and shoved the phone back into her purse. As if Ruth had summoned Uncle Glen with her mind alone, the man stepped into the tent with a wide grin on his face.
“Is that my little candy girl?”
“It sure is,” Ruth answered before Candice could.
Logan was making his way toward the group in a slow crawl, snagging one plant after the next without consulting her on even one. She forced her attention to her uncle instead, blood boiling with irritation.
“Hi Uncle Glen,” she said, throwing her arms around him.
“Well, well.” The man gripped both of her arms to look at her. His light eyes searched her face. “Your father must be riding on the highest cloud in the heavens. They don’t come any prettier than this, do they Ruthie?” He nudged his wife’s arm.
“Of course they don’t,” she said. “And Logan’s here too. Did you see him?” The couple exchanged a look.
“You don’t say,” Glen bellowed, turning his sights on Logan. “Well, come on now, boy. Don’t be such a stranger. What are ya, in some sort of hurry? Buying one of everything and making a run for it?”
Logan let out a chuckle. “Sounds like you’re onto me.”
Uncle Glen’s smile faded as he looked at the two, back and forth. If tension had a face, Candice was wearing it. And Logan too. Of all the times to bump into relatives. Especially ones known for their perfect, healthy, lovey-dovey, never-mad-at-one another relationship.
Ruth rocked back on her heels, sliding her clanking bracelets from her bony elbow back to her wrist. She moved her unreadable gaze to Glen while furrowing her brow. It felt more muggy inside the tent suddenly. Candice fanned her face with her hand and gulped. The last thing she wanted from her aunt and uncle was some sort of marriage lecture.
At last her uncle gave Ruth a silent nod. “You two all done in here?”
“Yeah, we’re ready to ring up now,” Logan said. “Think we’ve got everything we need.”
“Not everything.” Ruth motioned to her husband, her eyes speaking words all their own.
Glen tipped his head back. “That’s right,” he agreed. “I’ve got something that I think the two of you can really use. Something that can fix just about anything.”
“Fix? I’m sure the soil is fine,” Logan said, but Uncle Glen put his hand up to stop him.
“This is different. And don’t worry, it’s free of charge.”
Candice trailed after her uncle and Logan, who was dragging the cart behind him as he moved. “Just don’t argue with him,” she muttered to Logan. “It’s not like you have to use it if you don’t want.”
“I’m not arguing with him,” Logan said under his breath. “Just wish he walked a little faster, is all.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you do.” She resisted the urge to tag on his new nickname. Truth was she
was in no mood for a detour either. She just wanted to take what Logan had picked out, get back to the house, and let him plant the stupid things alone. It was obvious he hadn’t planned on doing it together anyway.
“Just a little further down,” Uncle Glen said, weaving through one tall greenhouse after the next. The wheels on the cart squeaked as Logan tugged it along the matted, dirt path. After passing the final greenhouse, the smallest white tent of the bunch, her uncle led them alongside the far end, where the property met with an old trailer house. A towering oak grew there, shading a makeshift patio of sorts. Intricate iron furniture rested on old, red bricks, sparse patches of short grass sprouting in between.
“Just over here,” he said with a grunt. He kneeled beside a short table, its surface covered with a lacy tablecloth. A glass vase holding fresh flowers stood in the center. Glen picked up the vase with a rather shaky hand and placed it on the brick flooring. He tugged off the tablecloth next, and Candice realized it was actually an old, weathered trunk serving as a table. The wood was dull, dark, and bloated so badly it had split in parts. Logan had abandon the cart yards back, and was now hovering over the trunk alongside her.
Glen creaked it open with another grunt. “Ah, here we are.”
Candice puzzled over what she saw. The case was empty save one item resting in the center.
“Ah, yes. This is just the sort of magic you two need.” Glen reached in to secure the thing with both hands, and lifted it toward them expectantly. A large glass bowl. Not the shiny delicate glass of a fish bowl. Rather that thick, green-looking glass old soda bottles were made of. Twill cloth covered the top while a thin rope held it into place with a rather small bow.
Mending Hearts: Logan's Story Page 12
