"Men always have their price. The former owner of the Bar T must have thought I was a crazy man. In one way I suppose he may have been right. I paid well over the asking price. I wanted him out fast. It was a going concern, and I took it over as quick as I could. I had nightmares about you up and marrying someone else while I was coming to get you."
Again, there was that phrase. It was a statement of possession, as if he were claiming her. She found it disconcerting.
Was that the real reason why all Martha's potential suitors during these past weeks had been of such dubious quality and reputation? Had Hettie merely been staging a delaying strategy while Logan moved in? When she thought of it that way, it did make sense.
Logan stopped speaking, his shoulders sinking with visible tiredness. He looked drained, and hung his head low, pulling at the grass between his boots.
Martha was amazed at what she had just heard. How could he have done such a thing? He had pursued her across the country. It had been a relentless, determined pursuit by a man who would not take no for an answer. And it had been for her; to find her; to possess her as his wife. How could she deny such a man? She suddenly felt churlish and guilty at the way she had been treating him. The distance she had put between them now seemed so wrong.
Martha went to him, and sat down by his side on the rock. He appeared distant. She stroked the hair on the side of his head, and he responded by looking at her. His eyes had an unfamiliar vulnerability in them. For a moment she saw the young man of long ago, the beau who came to court her. She gave him a gentle smile of understanding.
Martha leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
"I don't know what to say, Logan," she whispered. "I am staggered at what you have done to find me. When you could have had any other woman as a wife."
Logan's eyes brightened suddenly. "There was never anyone else for me. Only you Martha," he said, his voice firm again, confidence coming back into it. "I want you to be the wife I always dreamed you would be." He leaned in closer to her. "And I want you to love me the way you did back then. Back East. Can you do that?"
Martha felt a cold chill settle on her spine. It wasn't the cold of the altitude, but the effect of his request. It reminded her of the dark nights alone; the tears of regret; the pain of rejection; the harsh words of her father; the soothing reassurance by her mother. That had been the darkest period in her life, a time when the most awful thoughts had entered her mind. The sensations made every nerve in her body suddenly sensitive.
Logan sensed her tension, and reached out to her, but Martha stood up and took a few steps away from him.
"What's wrong Martha?" Logan asked, standing up.
Martha turned away, wringing her hands. Why couldn't she accept his heartfelt request? Why was it so hard to give up the past? Wasn't the past gone and over with? She liked to think so; she'd even convinced herself of that in the months since she had come out to Sweetheart Falls. However, now Logan was asking something of her that she wasn't sure she could give, even despite the tale he had just recounted to her.
She needed more time. Logan had become a man who was used to getting his way quickly; that much was clear. He had enjoyed the success of a driven man out in the West, finding hidden qualities inside himself that Martha had never known he possessed. Was that it? That, somehow, Logan was a different man to the one she had known. In fact, he was almost a stranger to her, so complete had the transformation in him been.
Martha drew her shoulders in tight and took a deep breath. "I'd like to go back to the ranch, Logan," she said quietly.
There was silence behind her. She became aware of the sound of the wind blowing up the hillside, and suddenly felt an isolation that stood in sharp contrast to the joy she had felt such a short time before.
She heard the sound of Logan's boots as he made his way over to the tree to untie the horse.
He had told her his story, and now they were going home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They made their way back to the ranch in almost complete silence. She held on to him as before, but this time there was little of the excitement she had felt on the ride out. Martha knew she had probably hurt his feelings, particularly since it must have taken a great deal of courage on Logan's part to be so brutally honest. She respected him for that honesty. It showed that he was a man who could be trusted. He would hold no secrets back from her; and that was important.
Logan had said he wanted their first day as a wedded couple to be memorable, and it had been, for all the wrong reasons. Martha felt a stab of sadness and regret. As she clung on to him, with the force of the horse tossing her from side to side, she sensed that she had entered a world that she knew hardly anything about.
What did she really know about being a rancher's wife? The true answer was that she knew absolutely nothing! How could she hope to even understand her husband if she didn't know what it took to be a rancher's wife. There was so much to learn, and she knew she wouldn't be able to do it on her own. There was only one person she could think of who would be able to guide her. Mrs. Proudie.
Martha closed her eyes and thought about what Logan had told her. What was it that was making her feel the jumble of confused emotions that were coursing around inside her?
She thought of Logan's determination; of his resolve; of his fearlessness. He had acted like a man obsessed. She had been the object of that obsession. How incredible was that! To be the object of someone's single minded purpose.
To some extent that made her feel anxious. She had spent so much effort, since they had parted, trying to allay those feelings that their return was all the more difficult to deal with.
All he wanted to do was make her happy. What was wrong with that? Martha told herself that there was nothing wrong with Logan thinking only of her happiness. She was flattered, indeed, honored, that he wanted her to be happy. So, why was it that she was resisting him.
The past was an awful thing, she concluded. It followed you like a spectre; stalked you in the night, and just when you got a second chance at happiness, it came up, and thrust you down into a pit of fear and insecurity.
That was where she was. Instead feeling the joy of being reunited with Logan, she had been thrown into a maelstrom of emotion, and it didn't matter what he said or did. She could not, for the moment, fully accept her great fortune and blessing. And it was all the fault of the past, and the hold which it had taken on her these past years.
The tears welled up, staining the back of her husband's shirt as the horse rode down into the valley, and back to the ranch house.
She saw Mrs. Proudie out by the side of the house, hanging some clothes on a line. Martha tried to figure out in her mind what she could ask Mrs. Proudie. She had no doubt that the kindly woman would understand, and would be more than eager to help.
Logan drew the horse up at the barn and dismounted. Martha looked intently at his face, searching for any signs of upset, but she saw none. His face was calm and placid. When he looked up at her she saw an acceptance there. He didn't seem annoyed at her, and that made her feel better.
She thought how stupid she had been. Here was a man who had gone to the greatest lengths imaginable to make her his wife. He was hardly going to be put off by one conversation.
Martha smiled down at him, and reached out for his assistance in dismounting. He extended his arms, and she willingly let herself drop down to him. He noticed the dampness of the tears on her cheek, but made no comment. He ran a thumb across her cheek, wiping away the moistness.
"I'm sorry, Logan," she murmured, leaning close to him. "I don't know what it is. I just don't think I'm ready for all this."
"I understand it's all been too much for you. It's my fault. I expected too much. I was foolish to think you could start living here, knowing nothing. You've been thrown in at the deep end. I haven't been fair to you." His voice was soft and reassuring. There was an intensity to it that she found compelling. "I know you need time, Martha. And I'm going to make s
ure you get it. You tell me what help you need, and I'll provide it."
"I don't anything about how to be a rancher's wife," she admitted with a gasp.
Logan took her by the hand, and they started to walk toward the barn, Logan leading the horse by the reins.
They went inside the barn, and Logan tied up the horse in the stall.
He turned and took her gently by the shoulders. As she looked up at his face she could see a gentle concern in his eyes.
"I want you to know that I will not let any harm come to you," he said, his voice quiet and sure. "You are precious to me. I need you to promise me that you won't do anything foolish. A ranch is a dangerous place, especially for someone who doesn't know their way around."
Martha looked at him and nodded. "I promise not to do anything stupid, Logan."
He nodded and stroked her hair.
"Mrs Proudie told me she can't wait to show you around the ranch. She's an old hand at this," he said.
"She's wonderful. I think you are so lucky to have her."
Logan nodded. "I sure know that. I'm glad she came to Wyoming with us. Now that you are here too, there's nothing to stop this being the finest ranch in these parts, both at home, and out on the range." There was a strong pride in the way he said the words.
"Are you suggesting that Mrs Proudie and me are a team now?"
"Not so much a team. More like an unstoppable force," he said smiling.
Martha laughed. "I've never been described as unstoppable before," she said.
Logan stroked her hair. "There's a few more words I can use to describe you, but I don't want to scare the horses," he said warmly. There was a low, vibrant quality to his voice that gave Martha a tingle up her spine.
As if in answer, one of the horses whinnied. It broke the intimate moment between them. Martha realized she was tired, and in need of a rest. Logan seemed to sense that in her.
There had been so much discussed; such a confusing welter of emotions and revelations. She needed time to take it all in, and consider what it meant for their future together. They had such a long future to look forward to; for that she felt truly blessed. She didn't want their marriage to start off on the wrong foot, although she was aware that today hadn't been exactly ideal.
Logan led Martha back to the ranch house. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and Logan kissed her softly on the forehead.
"Have a good rest," he whispered, smiling reassuringly. She looked at him, and realized he wasn't going to accompany her upstairs; he was respecting the boundary they had established the previous night. At that moment she didn't know whether she glad or sad about that fact.
Logan waited at the bottom of the stairs, watching her make her way up. At the top of the stairs she turned and looked back down only to see him walk toward the front door. His head was lowered, and Martha knew that, in that moment, despite his best efforts at hiding the fact, Logan was anything but a happy man .
Martha awoke later in the afternoon after having had a deeply relaxing sleep. However, the worries about what Logan had revealed to her still gnawed away at the back of her mind.
She decided the best way to keep those thoughts at bay was to keep as busy as possible. She guessed that Logan would have gone out, leaving her to sleep. He was probably busy down with the herd. That seemed to be where he spent so much of his time.
Martha went downstairs and headed for the kitchen. Mrs. Proudie was there, busy as usual.
"Feeling better?" Mrs. Proudie asked.
Martha ran a hand through her hair. She realized she must look unkempt, even dishevelled. But it wouldn't matter too much. Logan was out working. She'd have plenty of time to make herself presentable before he came back.
Martha helped herself to some coffee and leaned against the kitchen table. "You know what I'd like to do this afternoon Mrs. Proudie?"
Martha took a sip of coffee and watched curiosity appear on the face of Mrs. Proudie. "I'd like to get to know the house. Every nook and cranny," she stated boldly.
Mrs. Proudie put down the knife she was using to cut vegetables. "That seems like a sensible way to spend an afternoon," she agreed.
"I thought you'd like it," Martha agreed. "I was thinking I'd go around the house and see just what needs doing, and what needs changing," Martha said.
Mrs. Proudie smiled. "I have to say, that is just music to my ears. Ever since we moved in, this place has had the feel of a single man's home. It needs a woman's touch."
Martha nodded and took a sip of coffee. "That is exactly what it's going to get. I haven't been here long but I already see the tell tale signs of a bachelor's residence. There is an absence of color," Martha said.
"The previous owner had some mighty odd tastes, when it came to decor and furniture," Mrs. Proudie said. "We got rid of some of it. But I'd say you're right. It needs an overhaul."
Martha nodded. "Logan said he's happy to buy anything we need and have it shipped from back East."
"He can sure afford it," Mrs. Proudie agreed. "That herd is worth a fortune, provided it can be kept safe from the rustlers," Mrs. Proudie.
Martha frowned. "Rustlers? But you don't have a problem with that here, do you?" she asked.
"We do. Some of the neighbouring ranches have been having problems lately. Cattle have been disappearing, and there's been some serious allegations. But no-one's been caught," Mrs. Proudie said.
Martha was shocked. Logan had mentioned rustlers, and had given the impression it wasn't a problem for their ranch. Perhaps he didn't want to worry her. So far, Logan had presented life on the ranch to Martha as something idyllic, almost perfect. Deep down Martha wasn't naive enough to believe that. She'd seen first hand how difficult life was for everyone who lived out in Wyoming, and she knew that things weren't going to be any easier here on the ranch. Logan was only trying to protect Martha from some of the realities. Martha preferred to know the truth about what she was getting herself into.
"I hope they get whoever is doing the stealing," Martha said.
Mrs. Proudie pursed her lips. "Sometimes you have to make tough choices. You can have a wolf in the fold, and not even know it," she said, her brows furrowing in deep concern.
Martha wasn't sure what Mrs. Proudie could mean by that. It seemed like such an odd thing to say. She decided to forget it for the moment. "So. Where can we start in the house?" she asked.
Mrs. Proudie wiped her hands with a towel. "I can show you around each of the rooms first. Get you a sense of how things are. You just tell me what you think. Be honest. I won't be offended. Most of what's here is someone else's fault anyway," she said with a resigned shrug of the shoulders.
Martha smiled and followed Mrs. Proudie to the parlor. When they walked in she was stunned to find Logan sitting in a chair with a bunch of papers on his lap. He looked up and smiled.
"I hear you ladies are going to make some changes around the house," he said. There was a mischievous glint in his eye. Martha assumed he had heard them in the kitchen.
She went to Logan, and kissed him on the forehead. "I thought you'd be at work," she said.
Logan looked up at her and smiled. "I am at work," he said, gesturing to the papers. "I also figured I'd have a quiet afternoon at home while my wife took some time to settle in, and get to know her new home."
Logan looked over at Mrs. Proudie who was trying to keep her eyes away from her employer, and his new wife.
"Don't let me keep you," he said. "Just ignore me. Pretend I'm not here."
Martha looked down at him and smiled. "I'm not sure I'm going to be able to do that, Logan,"she said.
He rubbed a hand down her arm, and she felt a tingling along her spine. He looked deep into her eyes, and there was a sparkle in his gaze which made something shift inside her.
Martha swallowed and composed herself. "Let's go Mrs. Proudie. There's work to be done. Let's start with this room," Martha said.
She turned and took up a position in the center of the room. Mrs. Proudie
stood by her side.
Martha scrutinized the furnishing, wallpaper, flooring and decorative objects in the room, and found all of it wanting. As she chatted to Mrs. Proudie about what needed to be done, she was intensely aware that Logan was watching her, listening to her every word. Yet, he said nothing.
Martha tried to ignore him, but she found that she couldn't. She could feel his eyes watching her, and she imagined the expression in them.
Martha absolutely refused to turn and speak to Logan. She knew that if she did that her sense of purpose would be affected. She wondered what was going through his mind as he watched her standing in the middle of the room discussing how she could make it a reflection of her own tastes.
She wondered if her tastes matched his. They had both come from similar backgrounds so she assumed that he would share her preferences. However, she wasn't wholly convinced.
Mrs. Proudie looked at Martha in such a way that Martha knew what was going through the elderly housekeeper's mind. She was probably wondering why Martha wasn't consulting Logan about the changes to be made, and even why Logan wasn't interrupting them with his own ideas.
Then Martha realized the truth. Logan was making a statement. He was saying that Martha was in charge of the home, and that she alone would decide what the place would look like. Logan was giving Martha complete freedom to remake the home as she wanted. He was happy to accept her judgment and taste.
Martha went into a long speech about the wall coverings. Mrs. Proudie listened, nodding in agreement. Then, Martha suddenly stopped speaking. Mrs. Proudie looked at her. "You were saying Mrs. Crawford?" she asked.
Martha finally turned and looked at Logan. His head was lowered, and his attention was apparently fixed on the documents on his lap. Martha didn't believe for a minute that he was as interested in them as he appeared. She was sure she could see the slightest crack of a smile on his cheeks.
Martha turned to Mrs. Proudie. "Let's see the other rooms," she declared. She strode out of the room with Mrs. Proudie following close behind. Martha glance d behind her, and was relieved to see that Logan hadn't followed them.
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