Tracy had brought the little girl out every day to ride, but now it was the weekend and she’d be spending the night for the first time since Grace had gone home to Buckskin Pass. Instead of the mall or a movie, they were in the corral, and she was trotting Chocolate around as if she’d been born in the saddle.
If not for Grace, Logan probably wouldn’t be having this particular moment. Instead of thanking her, he’d sent her packing. The decision was knee-jerk, but he shouldn’t still be second-guessing it. She was always going to leave anyway. He’d simply cut the ties a little sooner. But the fact was he felt like pond scum. And the damn empty feeling inside him wouldn’t go away.
“Look at me, Daddy!”
“I’m watching, baby girl.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. He’d just been thinking hard about Grace’s sweet smile while he did.
“Am I doing okay?” She moved the reins, giving the horse a cue.
When Chocolate walked over and stopped in front of him, Logan patted the horse’s neck. “You’re doing great, kiddo.”
“Grace would be really happy I’m doing so good.”
“She would.”
“I wish she could see me.”
Logan wished he could see her, just standing by the fence, smiling at him as if he were her star pupil. “I can’t believe how fast you’re learning.”
“Can I go outside the corral?” She gave him that pleading look. The one that said she knew he wouldn’t like it but would he please just say yes.
“We’ll take a ride to the lake.”
Logan wasn’t prepared for the sudden, unexpected stab of longing that cut through him. That’s the trail he’d wanted to show Grace the day his father dropped in unexpectedly. Claiming he wanted a chance to know his granddaughter.
“Oh, boy! The lake.” Cassie was quivering with excitement. “Can we go now?”
“It’s almost dinnertime. And the sun is getting pretty low in the sky. We’d run out of light, and it can be dangerous to ride in the dark. If the horse puts his foot wrong, he could injure himself. And you.”
“I wouldn’t want Chocolate to get hurt.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.”
“Grace says we should be kind to all living things. Even bugs,” Cassie said seriously.
That sounded like Grace. She was beautiful inside and out. The truth was, Logan hadn’t been very kind to her. He’d refused to listen to anything about his father. But thinking about it later had tweaked his curiosity. He’d asked his brother if he remembered anything about their mother refusing money or help from Foster Hart. Turned out Tucker did recall that.
It seemed her pride had kicked in because she loved him so much and didn’t want him to see her as pitiful. His brother also recalled their father showing up at the ranch and Granddad running him off to protect them.
Since finding out all this, Logan had been questioning his decisions regarding his father. He’d talked with Tracy about introducing him to Cassie. Like Grace, she believed the man sincerely regretted what he’d done to his family. She also thought it unfair to deprive their daughter of the opportunity to meet her grandfather and form her own opinion.
Two months ago if anyone had told him he would even consider this, he’d have said they were nuts. But the really crazy thing was that it didn’t feel wrong. Still more of Grace’s influence on his life.
“Hey, kiddo, we need to curry Chocolate and feed him before I feed you.”
“Okay.”
Logan lifted her off the horse’s back when she held out her arms to him. He squeezed her close, feeling love well up inside him that pushed out everything bad for a few moments. Normally she wiggled to get down, but for some reason she hugged him tight. Maybe feeling a little insecure and clingy. Maybe missing Grace. Maybe she sensed he needed it.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too, Cass.” He put her down. “Do you want to lead Chocolate into his stall?”
Her eyes grew wide because she’d been asking to do this and so far he’d said no. Until now. “Can I?”
He handed her the reins. “Go for it.”
“Come on, Chocolate.” She headed for the barn entrance, and the horse obediently followed. “Oh, boy. Grace would be so excited to see me doin’ this. Wouldn’t she, Daddy?”
“You bet she would.” He could picture the pleased smile on her face and just a hint of I-told-you-so in her eyes.
After walking the horse into his hay-covered stall, Cassie handed back the reins. “I’ll go get the curry brush.”
“Okay. Good job.”
While teaching her to ride, he’d also been impressing on her the obligation of taking good care of the animals. She was a natural and soaking it all up like a sponge. Logan secured the horse by wrapping the reins around a fence slat. Then he unbuckled the cinch beneath the horse’s belly and lifted off the saddle before setting it on top of the stall fence.
Cassie returned and held out the brush. “Here, Daddy.”
“Why don’t you give it a try?”
“I can’t reach.”
“Do the parts you can and I’ll get the rest,” he said.
“Okay.” She beamed with confidence.
Logan watched carefully as she slid the brush onto her little hand and moved it over Chocolate’s lower body and the part of the mane at her level. There was fierce concentration on her little face as she performed the task. He was so proud of her. It occurred to him that this was another father/daughter moment he wouldn’t have if not for Grace.
“Daddy.” Cassie looked up a little sadly. “Grace never got to see me do this.”
“I know.”
“She would have liked watchin’ me.”
“Yeah.” Apparently he wasn’t the only one thinking about her. “Do you want me to take over, baby girl?”
“Okay.” She handed him the brush and supervised, pointing out places he’d missed. “Don’t forget his mane, Daddy.”
“You’ve been taking notes.”
“Huh?” She stared blankly at him.
He grinned. “I just meant you’ve been paying attention to what I’ve been saying.”
“I’m practicin’ payin’ attention for kindergarten. Grace said it’s important to listen when the teacher’s talkin’.”
“She would know all about that.”
If her impact on his daughter was anything to go by, the kids she taught were really lucky to have her. And those kids lived in Buckskin Pass, a three-hour drive from Blackwater Lake. The empty feeling came back with a vengeance, and he wanted to believe it was only because he was hungry.
“I think Chocolate is groomed just fine. What do you think, Cass?”
“Good job, Daddy.”
“Okay. What do you say we go eat?”
“I’m starvin’.”
Logan removed the bit from the horse’s mouth, secured the gate, then hung up the tack. Side by side, he and Cassie walked up to the house. For the last week he hadn’t looked forward to going inside when the place was so quiet. At least for the weekend his daughter was there, so it wouldn’t feel quite so empty.
He was grateful to Grace for pushing him to bond with his child but not the part where he felt so much lonelier than he had before he knew her. If they’d never met, he wouldn’t know what missing her was like. But he couldn’t undo meeting her, so there was no choice but to appreciate the good and gut it out with the bad. He’d get over it. He’d get over her.
After both of them had washed up, Logan poured frozen fries on a cookie sheet, then put it in the oven to heat. After that he turned on the grill just outside the kitchen door and cooked the hot dogs. Cassie had insisted Grace always let her set the table, so she handled that after he got plates down from the cupboard.
When he set the platter containing grilled hot dogs on the table, his daughter turned up
her nose. “They’re burned. I don’t like the black part. Grace never did it like that.”
Logan needed patience and he needed it now. It wasn’t so much the critique of his grilling style as much as it was her constantly talking about Grace. Thoughts of her kept popping into his mind anyway, but with Cassie reminding him of everything, he didn’t get a break from the feelings. Every time he heard her name it was like a poke to his heart. The constant reminder was a burr under his saddle rubbing a raw spot.
He took a deep breath. “I’ll make you another one.”
“Okay. In a pot of water on the stove. That way it won’t be black. Grace said so.”
He did as requested and managed to get the fries out of the oven without burning them. Having the eat-a-vegetable “discussion” wasn’t high on his list right now, so applesauce would have to do.
Cassie made a face when he started to put ketchup on her plate. “Grace lets me do it by myself.”
He handed her the plastic bottle and didn’t say a word when she squeezed out enough for the whole town to dig in.
Cassie ate her fries first, delicately dipping them in the mountain of red sauce on her plate. Then she took a bite of her hot dog and said with her mouth full, “Do you think Grace misses me?”
“I’m sure she does.” Why did he feel responsible for Cassie being sad? Grace was always temporary. “Kiddo, you do know that Grace was never going to stay here, right?”
“Yes.” She looked at him solemnly. “But I hoped you’d ask her to.”
He had asked. It didn’t go well. That wasn’t quite true. Things were perfect, until his father came and messed with his head. But he wondered why Cassie would even think he’d ask Grace not to go. She was only five. Was it just being a girl? Female intuition? Because he knew for a fact she had never seen him kiss Grace. Or even touch her for that matter.
“Why did you think I might ask Grace to stay?”
“Because you like her. And she likes you. A lot,” she added emphatically.
“Did she say that?” Now who was hoping?
“No. I could just tell you liked her.”
“Of course I do. She was here to take care of you.”
“That’s not it. You like her.”
“Didn’t I just say that?” he asked.
“No.” A thoughtful look scrunched up her face. “You like her the way Mommy likes Denver.”
The kid was talking love. He wasn’t going to debate that, but he couldn’t resist asking. “Why do you say that?”
She shrugged her small shoulders. “You were happy when Grace was here. Now you’re not. Your eyes are kind of sad.”
Was he that obvious? Apparently so if a five-year-old noticed. He’d thought having Cassie for the weekend would push away the loneliness. It always had before, but not now. Not since Grace.
He had to believe that letting her go was the right thing to do. For her sake.
* * *
It had been less than a week since Grace left Logan and Blackwater Lake in her rearview mirror, and that time had made no difference in how much his rejection still hurt. The fact that she even thought such a thing gave her a bad feeling that she would never get over him.
“You’ve beaten those eggs within an inch of their lives, Gracie. Is it those poor, innocent yolks you’re mad at? Or something else?”
She looked down at the frothy, pulverized yellow stuff in the bowl, then her landlady. Janice Erwin was in her sixties, wore her silver hair in a sassy pixie cut and had the warmest brown eyes ever. The two of them were making breakfast together in the cozy country kitchen of the house where she rented a room. Jan stood beside her, in front of the deep sink. She was washing strawberries while Grace handled, or mishandled, the eggs.
“I was just daydreaming.” About Logan. But she kept that part to herself.
Memories of the handsome rancher seemed woven into the fabric of her soul. That wasn’t poetic, just a fact. And depressing because it meant that, unlike Lance the Loser, she would never get over the cowboy she’d left behind.
“You’ve been daydreaming a lot since you came back from that job in Blackwater Lake.” Jan’s eyes had gone from warm to questioning and concerned.
Grace wasn’t sure how to answer and simply said, “Have I?”
“Yes, you have.” Her landlady turned off the water. “Come to think of it, you haven’t said much about work there. What did you think of the town?”
“Have you ever been there?” Grace was stalling. She wanted time to form a detached response.
“Never had the chance to myself. Andy worked at one of the ranches when he was younger.”
Jan was a widow. Her daughters were grown and living with their families in California. After Andy died, she sold the ranch and downsized to this house with its white siding, green-painted shutters, wood floors and lots of room in the backyard for her garden and flowers.
When Grace invested her savings in a house that would never be hers, owned by a man who never cared about her, Jan offered her a place to stay and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Friends helped friends, she’d said. To make sure they stayed friends, Grace insisted on paying rent. Jan had said she could use the extra money, but Grace always suspected the woman was lonely, too.
“What did your husband think of Blackwater Lake?”
“He wanted to stay. Said it was beautiful country with the lake and mountains. Nice people, too. Then we met, fell in love and decided to buy a piece of land and raise our girls here in Buckskin Pass.” Jan dried her hands on a dish towel. “Is it still like that?”
“One of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen.” Not that Grace had seen many places. But the lush trees, towering peaks and crystal-clear water had spoken to her soul. Darn it. There was that stupid poetic streak again. Love didn’t just crush her heart; it was making her feel like a fool, too.
“Good to know Blackwater Lake hasn’t changed. Wish I could say it hadn’t changed you.”
It took several moments for the words to sink in because Grace was still hung up on the downside of love. “You think I’m different?”
“No question about it, sweetie.”
So it showed that something happened to her. And she thought she’d been hiding it awfully well. “I don’t know what to say.”
“It might be good to start with what went on while you were there,” Jan suggested.
“I just did my job. Taking care of Cassie.”
“The five-year-old?”
“Yes.” An image of the adorable little girl who had tea parties and loved riding a horse popped into Grace’s mind. The memory was swiftly followed by an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Taking care of that little munchkin didn’t feel like work.”
“And you miss her.”
“Yeah.” Grace hoped that was enough of an explanation. What happened between her and Logan was something she wanted to forget as fast as possible.
There was a puzzled expression on Jan’s softly lined face. “Is Cassie the only one you miss?”
There was a twinge in her chest, right in the area around her heart. “She’s the one I spent most of my time with.”
“That’s not what I asked,” the older woman said gently. “Tell me about Cassie’s father.”
“Logan.”
“So that’s his name.”
“Yes. Logan Hunt.” Who was really a Hart in spite of changing his name.
“And?”
“What? He hired me to take care of his daughter until her mom got home from an extended honeymoon. He paid me enough so that I now have the money for a down payment on my own house.”
Grace had been so sure that buying a home and putting down roots would fix everything, but now she wasn’t so sure. Instead of excitement at the prospect of having what she’d always wanted, she only felt let down and emptier than sh
e ever had before.
“Hmm.” Jan picked up the colander filled with washed strawberries and tilted it from side to side, draining the excess water.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. I just thought you would look happier about being able to go house hunting.”
That’s because she didn’t need to hunt. She’d already found the place for her, and it was on Logan’s ranch in Blackwater Lake. When he’d asked her to leave, the door to her dream slammed shut in her face. There was no recovering from that.
“I am happy about it,” she lied.
Jan smiled at her, but it didn’t completely erase her concern. “I’ve never once regretted having you here in my home, Grace. In fact, I feel as if you’re my third daughter.”
Grace’s throat closed with emotion for several moments. Kindness like that could pry the tears out of her, the ones she’d been holding back since leaving Logan. When she could form words without her voice breaking, she said, “And you feel like the mother I never had.”
“Oh, sweetie—” The older woman pressed her lips together for a moment, controlling her own emotions. “I’m so going to miss you when you’re gone.”
“I’m not moving to Mars. We’ll have lunch and run into each other at the grocery store and in town.” And it occurred to her how difficult living in Blackwater Lake would have been, the chance of running into Logan always hanging over her. It would crush her all over again every time she saw him.
“It won’t be the same,” Jan said, smiling sadly.
“You’re going to make me cry.” Grace sniffled.
The other woman studied her. “The tears are there in you, but I’m not the only one responsible. Tell me what happened with you and that little girl’s father. You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”
“Nothing will make me feel better, I’m afraid. And you have no idea how much I really don’t want to talk about this.” Grace sucked in a shuddering breath. “But you are more than just my friend, and you deserve more than an evasive answer.”
“Come on, honey, this sounds like a kitchen table talk.”
She let the older woman lead her to the round oak table with its green cloth place mats and tin pitcher filled with pink, purple and yellow wildflowers. They sat in the ladder-back chairs and faced each other, knees nearly touching.
Just What the Cowboy Needed Page 18
