The Rancher's Wife (12 page)

“Let's make a better memory,” he urged. “One we can enjoy remembering.”

God help her, she wanted that. Amy sighed, closing her eyes and touching her mouth to the rough stubble on his cheek. She nuzzled her nose against his skin and breathed him in, savoring his masculine scent. He pressed close and slipped his fingers underneath the ring hanging from her neck.

“Friend, lover, husband...” His husky voice tickled her ear, sending thrills over her skin. “Call it whatever you want.” He nudged a leg between hers and lifted his head. “I'm yours, Amy.”

Her palms tingled. She wanted nothing more than to hold on to him. To find comfort in his strength.

She slipped her fingertips under the brim of his hat, weaving them through the thick waves of his hair, and parted his lips with hers. A low growl throbbed in his throat and he explored her mouth with gentle sweeps of his tongue. His knuckles brushed her cheek, skimming her shoulders and uncurling to secure a grip on her hip.

Heat speared through her and traveled low, making her ache with need. Seeking a distraction, she burrowed her fingers further into his hair and dislodged his hat, swooping up his Stetson and settling it firmly on her own head. It sat a little loose and knocked against his forehead as he kissed her.

His deep chuckle rumbled. He smiled wide against her mouth, his teeth bumping her lips. Amy grinned, savoring the delight in his eyes and cherishing the abandon in his unrestrained laughter.

“That's my favorite one.” He drew back, pinching the hat and centering it on her head. “I should've known better than to risk it with you.”

Amy's grin slipped. It was a teasing statement. Benign and meaningless. But it managed to cut.

Logan winced. He framed her face with his warm palms and kissed her forehead.

“Hey,” he whispered. “This is a better memory, yeah? A good one.”

She nodded, closing her eyes as he claimed her mouth with the softest of kisses. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms in brisk movements and smiled.

“It's getting cold. Let's head back for the bonfire so you can show off your trophy.” He tapped the Stetson and grinned. “I know you gotta be chomping at the bit to gloat to Dom.”

Amy thumped the brim of the hat and beamed, slowing her speech to her best hick drawl. “A girl's gotta lay claim to her bragging rights, sir. Ain't my fault you held back.”

“This time.” He laughed, turning to amble away toward the horses. “I might not on the next run. So you better hope you remember everything I taught you.”

She dragged her palms over her jeans and ducked her head. That was the biggest problem. She couldn't forget. Any of it. The good or the bad. They were impossible to separate.

Logan whistled. Lightning left the creek and trotted toward him.

Logan turned, stretching out his upturned palm. “Come on. Let's head home.”

She placed her hand in his, skin heating at his touch, and mounted Lightning. Logan smiled and left to remount his horse.

Amy eyed the wide expanse of land barely visible between the tangle of trees. A strong wind swept across her overheated skin. It rushed through the long strands of her hair, jerking them over her shoulders and in front of her face in wild arcs.

Lightning stomped, his muscled bulk shifting beneath her as he shook his head, ready to take off again. Amy rubbed his neck and murmured soothing words. The wind whipped with greater strength, causing the trees to sway, limbs to dip and the swift current of the creek to intensify. Even the ground trembled with excitement beneath her as Lightning took a few impatient steps.

Amy inhaled, chest rising and shoulders lifting. The moment was so familiar. Raintree as it had been. Alive and exciting.

Logan laughed. “You look all of nineteen again in that hat.”

Amy opened her eyes to find him at her side.

He swept a strand of hair over her shoulder and his tone deepened. “Ready?”

She nodded, nudging Lightning and undertaking a relaxed pace across the grounds. The wind continued to push at their backs and the festive Christmas lights draping the fences of Raintree's front yard peeked out from the dark stretch of land before them, guiding their way.

Amy squared her shoulders and pushed Logan's Stetson down firmer on her head. Raintree's call grew louder. It beckoned with each sweep of cold air, twinkle of white lights and creak of their saddles. She glanced at Logan, returning his smile with a more cautious one.

Even now, she could feel the girl she'd been unfurling inside, stretching and waking up. Wanting nothing more than to keep riding straight into the warm embrace of the main house and stay in this beautiful place. Needing so much from it and from Logan. Wanting everything despite the cost.

Amy pressed a trembling palm to her midsection, smoothing it hard over the flat plane of her belly. This dance with Logan was dangerous. He and Raintree belonged to the rebellious girl she used to be. Not the honorable woman she'd grown into. She had to remember that. Because she wasn't sure if there was room inside her for both.

Chapter Eight

Logan pushed away the cup of “eggnog” Jayden held out and smiled politely. He had lived long enough to learn the value of self-preservation, and any concoction the twins offered was suspect.

“No, thanks, buddy.”

Logan glanced at the massive cypress tree, glowing with white lights. The annual Christmas tree lighting had become a crowd favorite at Raintree. Guests and locals alike turned out every year to help decorate the tree and huddle around the warmth of the festive bonfire.

The group of guests had dwindled down on account of the late hour and most of them had retired to their rooms for the night. Only family remained, along with a few hands who were finishing off the last of their sweet desserts or beer on hay bales used as makeshift seating. Logan spotted Amy silhouetted in the bonfire's blaze, recognizing the familiar shape of his Stetson atop her head.

He grinned. The only time she'd removed it since their ride several hours ago had been when she'd let Kayden climb onto her shoulders to hang a cloth angel on a high branch of the Cypress tree. And, even then, after lowering Kayden to the ground, she'd scooped the hat up and put it right back on.

“But you ain't had no eggnog yet.” Jayden stepped on top of Logan's boots and thrust the cup closer to his face.

Logan frowned and examined the liquid. The flickering light from the bonfire blazing several feet away enabled him to make out the white liquid filling the lower half of the clear mug. It looked safe enough. But the thick, red film floating on top turned his stomach and called for hesitation.

He twisted his lips and glanced at Amy. She had her back to him, sharing a laugh with Cissy, Betty and Traci. At least, she wouldn't witness him being a heel.

“Nah, I think I'll pass.” Logan lifted Jayden off the tops of his boots and set him back on the ground.

Dominic and Pop shifted at Logan's side, cocking their heads and leveling disapproving frowns on him.
Well, hell
. He'd get no support from them.

“Come on.” Dominic nudged Logan. “Don't want to disappoint the little fellas, do you?”

Logan sighed and surveyed the boys. Jayden and Kayden stood side by side, blinking up at him with wounded blue eyes.

His stomach dropped and he shifted uneasily. Nothing stripped your defenses better than kids.

He rubbed a hand over his brow then reached for the cup. “I'm not that big on eggnog, fellas.”

“But it's good.” Kayden smiled. “We made it special, Uncle Logan.”

That, he believed. The strong scent of spices wrinkled his nose as he lifted it to his mouth. He hesitated, holding the cup to his lips.

“Please try it,” Jayden said. “Just one taste?”

Logan's mouth twitched. Whether it was from laughter or distaste of what he was about to put in it, he wasn't sure. But he proceeded, tossing back a healthy swallow of the goop.

A flash of heat engulfed his gums and scorched a path down his throat, choking him. He spewed the last globs of it out of his mouth and doubled over. His eyes watered and tears coursed down his cheeks as he gasped.

“Lord, have mercy, Logan.”

Betty approached, her shocked voice barely rising over the gales of laughter from Pop and Dominic. A hand slapped his back, pounding hard, then shook his shoulder.

“Get it all out, son,” Pop chuckled.

“What in heaven's name have you done to him?” Betty pressed against his side, clutching a glass of sweet tea and peering into his face. “You okay, Logan?”

He snatched the glass from her hand and tossed it back in one gulp. The cold beverage masked the fire coating his throat, allowing him to catch his breath.

Dominic winked. “He just had a taste of the boys' special brew.”

“Oh, Dom.” Betty clucked her tongue. “I told you to throw that stuff out.”

Logan sucked in a lungful of cold air and glared at Dominic. “You mean to tell me you knew what was in that?”

“Of course he did,” Betty said, taking both glasses from Logan's hands. “The boys used up every bit of my cayenne powder making this gunk. They thought it was cinnamon. Heaven knows what else they put in it.”

Dominic held up his hands and adopted an innocent expression. “Easy now, big bro. I only knew because I got talked into trying it, too.”

Logan choked back a laugh, stretched around Pop and grabbed a handful of Dominic's shirt. “You little shi—”

“Language, boys,” Cissy admonished.

The rest of the ladies had arrived. Traci covered her mouth as a fit of giggles overtook her and Amy smiled a mile wide. Cissy, however, shoved between the men and rose to her toes, prying Logan's fist from Dominic's shirt.

“Not in front of the little ones.” Cissy smoothed her hands over Dominic's collar and the corner of her mouth kicked up. “Besides, my husband looks especially nice tonight and I'd like to keep him that way.”

Dominic tugged her close and whispered in her ear. Cissy's cheeks reddened. She batted at Dominic's chest, disentangling herself from his hold and started for the main house.

“Time to go in and get a bath, boys. It's getting late and you both need your rest.”

The twins groaned.

“Aw, come on, Aunt Cissy.” Kayden scowled. “Just a little longer. We ain't got no school all week.”

“That's,
we don't have any school this week
. And from the sound of those double negatives, I think they should've canceled vacation and kept you in class.”

“But—”

“I said, no.” Cissy stabbed a finger at the ground and smiled. “Now, do your good-night rounds and get your tails over here.”

“Best do what she says, Kayden,” Dominic whispered, expression grave. “Santa's watching.”

Kayden pouted but delivered his good-night kisses to everyone. Jayden followed suit but after kissing Amy's cheek, he wrapped his arms around her hand and pulled.

“Will you come in, too, Aunt Amy? I want you to tuck me in.”

“Yeah,” Kayden chimed, grabbing Amy's other free hand. “And will you read that same story you read to us last night? No one else does the voices good as you.”

She smiled. “I'd love to.”

“You gotta do your good-night kisses before you go in,” Kayden said solemnly. “It's Aunt Cissy's rule.”

Amy laughed. “Well, we don't want to break any rules, do we?”

She pressed a swift kiss to Dominic and Pop's cheeks then peppered a few more all over the boys. They gurgled with giggles and she laughed harder in response. Logan's chest warmed at the sight. The heat from the fire had painted her cheeks a cherry red, making those gorgeous green eyes shine like emeralds.

He'd heard her laugh on several occasions throughout the evening and each delightful bout of it melted away another lost year between them. It was easy to recall the teenage years she'd spent at his side by the Christmas bonfire, plucking marshmallows from his roasting stick and sneaking sips of his mulled wine.

She caught him staring and blushed even more. “Are you coming in?”

“Soon,” he said. “I'm gonna help clean up.”

“Come on, Aunt Amy.” Kayden shoved at her hip. “Give Uncle Logan his good-night kiss so we can go in.”

Logan grinned and arched a brow. Amy hesitated, glancing down at the boys. Their wide blue eyes moved from her to him and back again.

Amy sighed and stepped closer. She brushed her lips against his cheek, lodging a sweet ache in his belly. Logan curled his hand around her hip, tugging her close and nuzzling her neck.

A small hand shoved between them. Jayden scowled up at him and wrapped his arms tight around Amy's leg.

“You already got your good-night kiss, Uncle Logan.”

He laughed. “Guess you're right, buddy.”

Amy stepped back and tapped the brim of the Stetson with a fingertip. “Good night, gentlemen.”

Amy left with the boys, following the other ladies and laughing on the walk back to the main house. Cissy looked over her shoulder and blew a kiss to Dominic.

“I hate to call it quits early, but...” Dominic rubbed his chest and grinned, dimples denting.

Pop held up a hand and smiled. “Say no more, son. We'll wrap things up out here.”

Dominic jogged off, catching up with Cissy and hugging her close as they made their way up the path. Amy trailed behind the couple with the boys, pausing every few steps to point at the sky and answer the boys' questions.

“Amy sure has a way with those boys,” Pop murmured. “She looks good with 'em.”

Logan stiffened. He turned away to watch the hands laugh and pass around another round of beers. Amy did look great with those boys at her sides. But he couldn't shake the last image he'd had of her holding a child.

Their
child. Sara. And the sight had been gut-wrenching.

Pop shifted, his elbow brushing against Logan's. He remained silent for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“It's nice having Raintree full again,” Pop said. “It'll be even nicer when Cissy and Dom's girls get here. I hate that Amy might not be here when the babies arrive.” He hesitated, rocking back on his heels. “How much longer is she staying?”

“A couple weeks.” Logan rasped a palm over the stubble lining his jaw and turned away.

“Don't mean to pry but have you talked with her any more about things?” Pop's gaze heated his skin. “I thought Amy might've changed her mind about leaving after she settled in.”

“No.” Logan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I'm still working on getting her to stay put.”

“You two seem a lot closer now than when she first came home.” Pop nodded as if in reassurance. “That girl still loves you. Always has. No amount of time or distance will change that.”

“You sure about that?” Logan faced him. “You thought the same thing about Mom and we all know how that turned out.”

Pop held up a hand. “That was different.”

“How so?”

Hues of red and orange from the bonfire flickered over Pop's face. He kneaded the back of his neck as his eyes roved over the acres stretching out around them.

“Gloria never wanted to come here. Raintree was always my dream, not hers. She tolerated it because she loved me but she wanted something different.” His mouth twisted. “And she found someone else that would give it to her.”

Logan sighed. “We were better off without her, anyway.”

“You think so?” Pop glanced at him. “I wanted your mother from the first moment I saw her, but we both knew we weren't a good match. She was happy in the city and I was a rancher just passing through.” A short bark of laughter escaped him. “That short skirt and high heels of hers did me in, though. I fought it but it didn't take long for the rest of her to win me over, too. We knew the odds were stacked against us but we loved each other enough to give it a shot.” His smile dissolved. “She ended up being miserable here and wanted to go back to her old life. I tried my best to talk her into staying. It didn't work out because neither of us was willing to give up one path for the other.”

Logan scoffed. “Except her path had another man on it.”

“Not at first. But she did meet him and she ended up choosing a life with him instead of here with us. Wasn't much I could do about it and still keep my dignity. There are things in life you can't control, Logan. At least, your mother was honest. Told me how she felt before she acted on it.”

“And that excuses it?”

“No.” Pop's tone turned sharp. “It was one thing to walk out on me. But my boys—” He swallowed hard and looked away. “I wasn't proud of myself back then. No matter how much I hated your mother for leaving y'all, I still loved that woman in equal measure. Probably always will. And that's how it is. You don't get to pick who you fall in love with. It just happens. If it works out, you end up living with 'em. If it doesn't,” he said, and shrugged slowly, “you find a way to live without 'em. It took me a long time to learn that.”

Logan dropped his head, focusing on the shadows cast by the bonfire.

“Guess that's why I've never blamed Amy for going after you like she did,” Pop said. “I knew what it felt like to want someone that much. That girl's always had a strong spirit and loved you the second she laid eyes on you. As hard as it may be to understand, she was just fighting to keep you.”

Pop's hand curled around his forearm. Logan tensed, lifting his eyes to face him.

“I wish you'd open up for once. Tell me what you're thinking. Feeling. You're closed so tight—” He kicked the ground with a boot. “But that's my fault. I put too much on you when your mama took off. Left you to tend to your brother. I had so much trouble holding myself together I didn't realize how much you boys needed me.”

“We turned out fine, Pop.”

“Fine's not good enough. Not for me or my boys. You've always been careful and independent. Even as a kid. But sometimes living safe keeps you from the best things in life.” Pop watched Amy disappear into the darkness, then peered back at him. “Amy used to enjoy life. Showed you how to at one time. She could be the best thing that ever happened to you.” His grip tightened on Logan's arm. “But if you want a real shot at saving your marriage, you've got to open up.”

“I'm trying.”

“No, you're not.” He shook his head. “You're pushing Amy away like you do the rest of us because you're afraid of things going bad.” He hesitated. “You've gotten worse since y'all lost the baby.”

The baby
. Logan's muscles tensed.
A mistake
. “Her name was Sara.”

“I'm sorry,” Pop murmured, touching his arm. “You haven't been the same since you lost Sara. And it's time for you to...”

“What?”

Pop sighed. “Move on. You've spent so much time worrying about Amy, it's time you worked on yourself. Time for you to let go of what happened. Time to forget—”