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Authors: April Arrington

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BOOK: The Rancher's Wife
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Releasing her wrists, he smoothed his hands around her back, pulling her closer and trying not to plead. “I don't break my promises. I'm offering you something real. Something you can depend on. Something we've both already sworn to each other.”

She straightened. That beautiful back of hers drew up into a proud tilt against his palms, breasts thrusting and stubborn chin jutting.

“That all sounds so nice,” she said. “But I'm not tying either of us to a vow we made as a result of my stupid teenage lie.”

“Amy—”

“You loved me as a friend. A young friend that just happened to grow up on the same ranch as you. I should have recognized that a long time ago.” She stepped back and trailed her hands from him. “I won't take anything more from you. And I won't let you sacrifice anything more for me. If I did, I'd be no more of a woman now than I was at nineteen.”

Logan's gut roiled. So, she'd leave instead. He wouldn't have her at all and it would amount to nothing more than a mistake. Another regret.

“I'm sorry, Logan,” she whispered. “More sorry than you'll ever know.”

He clenched his teeth, half-afraid they'd crumble, and studied the tense curve of her jaw. They'd both always been hardheaded and Amy could hold out longer than anyone. But he'd never known her to be able to walk away from a challenge.

“It's one thing to say it,” he said. “Why don't you show me, instead?”

She glanced at him, features clouding.

“Stay,” he said. “Do right by your family. Do right by me.”

She shook her head. “It's too late for that.”

“No. That's just your excuse.” He shoved away from the porch rail and moved to the door, turning to say, “You haven't changed. Don't know a thing about loyalty. You're no different now than you were back then. The girl that stood right in front of me and lied to get her way is the same woman that's turning her back on her family now. And I'm your family, too, Amy. You worked hard to snag me. You oughta have the guts to stick it out.”

She flinched, body stiffening and face paling.

He watched. Waited. Then forced himself to turn on his heel and jerk open the door.

“Wait.”

He froze, the sweet sound of her voice sweeping over him. Turning, he watched her pick at her pants leg and shift from foot to foot. She came to a decision, stilling and drawing to her full height.

“I'll stay,” she whispered. “Long enough to work with Thunder.”

“Absolutely not.” Logan held up a hand. “That horse is dangerous.”

“I can help him. You know I can.”

“Neither one of us knows that for sure, Amy.” He blew out a breath in frustration. “You could get hurt. Badly.”

“Then help me.”

He hesitated. If he refused, there was a good chance she'd leave or, worse yet, put herself in even more danger by trying to work with the horse on the sly. But his throat tightened at the thought of her approaching the maddened stallion.

She interpreted his silence as agreement.

“So it's settled. I'll stay. Just until it's time for me to take up the post in Michigan. I'll work with Thunder and help ease Mama into the idea of the move. But as for us,” she said, shaking her head, “I can't stay in this marriage, Logan. It's not good for either of us. We'd both be miserable.”

“What makes you so sure?” His muscles tightened, a wave of nausea flooding through him. “Is there someone else?”

“No,” she stated firmly.

He forced the next question past his constricted throat. “You're not still hoping for another baby, are you?”

She recoiled, fear flooding her features, and shook her head.

He stepped forward and cradled her arms. “I'm sorry, Amy. I know how hard it was for you to accept that you can't have any more children. But after Sara—” he swallowed hard, eyeing her pale cheeks “—I have no desire to have another child, either. So what's to stop us? It'll keep the family together.” He rubbed his thumbs gently over her skin. “Plenty of marriages have been based on a lot less than the friendship we have.”

“Had,” she stressed, moving away. “We lost our friendship along with everything else. And I won't stay in a marriage out of duty.”

“That's a damn sight better than throwing it away.” He spun the ring on his finger with jerky movements of his thumb.

Amy kicked off her shoes, slamming the loose heel against the porch rail to break it off, then did the same with the other and rolled up her pants legs.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting started,” she said, slipping her shoes back on and scooping up the beer bottle. “The sooner I begin helping Thunder, the better.”

She made her way down the porch steps, plucking the pins from her hair with one hand as she went and combing through the long, dark waves with her fingers.

“It's too cold out, Amy.” He fell in line behind her, body tightening with a surge of heat at the supple sway of her hips. “Come back inside and get a good night's sleep. It'll wait 'til morning.”

“No time like the present.”

And that was it. That was all he got before she tipped up the beer and quickened her step, raven hair swinging as she disappeared into the dark night.

Logan stopped, rammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and headed back to the house.
Stubborn, hardheaded woman
. Only Amy would camp out in a stable in the dead of night, freezing her tail off. Hell if he'd encourage her.

He took long strides across the lawn only to halt at the foot of the stairs. He should let her go. Walk away. It was the sane, sensible thing to do.

And he almost did. Almost kept right on going. Into the house and an empty bed. Away from Amy. Away from the mess of their marriage. Only, his legs wouldn't budge.

“Damn.”

Logan spun back around and followed the same path Amy had taken, moving swiftly across the field toward the stable.

Chapter Five

“She's dead.”

Amy inhaled, her peaceful hold on sleep slipping with the intrusive whisper.

“Nah,” a second voice declared. “She just breathed, see?”

“No, she didn't. She freezed to death.”

That was Jayden. The uncertain tremor and concern in his voice gave it away.

A small hand poked Amy's chest and the warm presence of two small bodies closed in at her sides. Her mouth twitched. She kept her eyes shut and shifted on the stable floor, pressing deeper into the heat at her back, reluctant to release her relaxed state.

A strong hand flexed on her hip. Amy stilled, her stomach flipping as she recognized the familiar strength at her back.

Last night, Logan had tried his best to talk her into going back inside but she'd been determined to stay by Thunder's stall. The stallion had been left alone too long, cooped up away from everyone. She couldn't stand the thought of him spending another night in isolation. Instead, she'd settled on the cold stable floor, keeping a vigilant eye on Thunder.

She'd hoped Thunder would relax after getting used to her scent again. Had thought it might even help him settle down and find comfort in having someone close. It'd worked to a certain extent. Even though Thunder had started his usual intimidation tactics when they'd arrived at his stall, he'd eventually quieted down after a couple of hours. After which, she must have fallen asleep.

Logan, true to his word, had stayed at her side, gathering her against him and throwing a blanket over them. And, as usual, she'd settled right back into his arms. Even in her sleep.

“If she's dead, then that means Uncle Logan's dead, too.” Kayden's whisper tickled her ear. “He was with her. And he ain't moving neither.”

“Uh-uh,” Jayden argued. “If Aunt Amy's dead, it's 'cuz she freezed to death. But Uncle Logan wouldn't die 'cuz men don't get cold.”

Logan's chest shook. His gentle breaths of silent laughter ruffled her hair. Apparently, he was playing along, too.

“I know how to check,” Kayden said.

Amy cringed as the tip of Kayden's tiny finger jerked her eyelid up, making her eye roll with discomfort. He released it and sat back with a sigh.

“Yep,” Kayden said sadly. “She's dead.”

“Do something.” Jayden's voice turned anxious.

“What do you want me to do?” Kayden's tone was long-suffering.

“Give her CRP.”

“What?”

“CRP,” Jayden said. “You know? Blow air in her mouth.”

Okay. That was enough playing along. Amy opened her eyes.

Kayden sucked in a mouthful of air, held it with puffed cheeks and leaned forward.

Amy held him off with a hand. “That's not necessary, Kay—”

The sharp slam of Thunder's hoof against the stall door sounded, an earsplitting crack of wood cutting through the air and causing them all to jump. Logan's arms shot out, snagging the boys close. He bundled them all together and rolled over, pressing against the wall and covering them.

“What's happening?” Jayden cried, his arms tight around Amy's neck.

“That mean horse is trying to stomp on us.” Kayden burrowed his blond head into her middle.

“No.” Logan's voice, calm and soothing, rumbled at her back. “He's just letting us know he wants his space.”

Thunder's assault on the stall door ceased. Logan tensed, holding them all tight in the wake of the silence, then eased back. He stood and tugged them, each in turn, to their feet.

“Land sakes, what have the boys done now?”

Betty stood in the stable entrance, Traci at her side, and eyed the twins.

“Nothing,” Amy said hastily. “Thunder's being rowdy is all.”

“Rowdy's an understatement,” Logan said, frowning. “He's about to take that door down. We need to turn him out so I can work on it. Don't want to chance him breaking it down tonight.”

“He wants out,” Jayden murmured.

His sad eyes lingered on Thunder. He took a hesitant step toward the stall. Thunder resumed kicking, his hooves slamming against the stall walls and echoing around the stable.

Logan jumped in front of Jayden and examined the door for damage. “We're about to turn him out, buddy.”

“Why can't we let him out
now
?” Jayden slipped between Logan's parted legs, stretching up on his toes and reaching for the latch on the stall.

“No, Jayden.” Logan spun him gently toward Betty. “You leave this to me and keep your distance from him. He's dangerous.”

“But—”

“No buts. Thunder's wild when he's loose. He needs to be fenced in.” He ruffled Jayden's blond hair and nudged him toward the door. “You and Kayden can watch Thunder all you want once we turn him out. For now, you keep out of the way.”

Jayden glanced up at Amy, his chin trembling and blue eyes glistening. “He doesn't like it in there. He wants out.”

Amy's chest tightened. She patted his cheek and smiled. “I know he does. And we're going to let him out for some fresh air soon.”

“Well, in that case, you boys go on in and get some breakfast,” Betty said. “Give Logan and Amy time to get a handle on Thunder, then you can come back out to watch later on.”

Kayden grumbled on his way past Betty and Jayden trudged behind but both boys picked up their pace at hearing pancakes and bacon were waiting on them.

“Pop told me he found the two of you out here with Thunder last night,” Betty said. “We got worried when you didn't show back up.” She tilted her head at Amy, expression cautious. “I guess this means you changed your mind about working with Thunder?”

Amy nodded. “I don't know how much progress I'll make with the little time I have but I promised Logan I'd give it a shot while I'm here.”

Betty glanced at Logan. “I'm glad to hear that.”

Logan ducked his head and resumed examining Thunder's stall.

“I brought a pancake and bacon sandwich out for each of you.” Betty smiled, placing two foiled bundles in Amy's hands. “Figured if y'all were gung ho to stay out here all night, you wouldn't take a break long enough to eat this morning. The hands were wolfing them down so fast, I didn't think there'd be any left by the time you did get around to coming in.”

The thick weight of the packages warmed Amy's palms and the sweet aroma caused her stomach to growl. The rumble was loud and long, triggering Logan's deep chuckle at her back and a giggle from Traci.

Amy joined them, the laughter lifting her spirits. For a moment, it felt like home again. The way it used to before things went so bad. When the ranch was full of comforts, family and laughter. A time when she'd never wanted to leave.

“Take a few minutes to eat before you start working,” Betty said. “You can't make it through a long day on no sleep and an empty stomach.”

Betty smiled but her eyes were puffy. Dark circles hovered beneath them and a red tinge lined her lashes.

Amy winced, a lump rising in her throat. Betty had probably stayed up half the night, too. Worrying and weeping. And she'd been the cause of it.

“Thank you, Mama.” Amy hugged her close, murmuring near her ear, “I'm not going anywhere yet, you know?”

Betty sighed, squeezing her tight. “I know. I'm glad to have you home for however long you're able to stay.” She pulled back and smiled. “I'm happy about your new job and I'll help in whatever way I can. For now, let's just have a great Christmas together, okay?”

Amy grinned, the pressure easing in her chest. “Yes, ma'am.”

Betty looked at Logan. “Dominic and Pop said they'd handle the trail rides for you today. So make sure you eat, too, before getting started.”

Logan dipped his head and winked. “Yes ma'am.”

Betty left, calling over her shoulder, “I gotta get back to the kitchen. Sun's coming up and there's a hungry crowd of guests that needs to be fed.”

Amy tugged at Traci's arm as she turned to leave. “You're still gonna help me out with Thunder, right?”

Traci's brows rose. “Do you want me to?”

“Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way.” Amy placed the foiled sandwiches in Traci's hand. “Can you do me a favor and hold on to these? I need to change out of these clothes before we get started, then you can watch me work on getting Thunder out of the stall.” She laughed. “Or, at least, try getting him out. Do you think you can round up a couple sticks and strings? We'll need a rope, too.”

Traci beamed. “No problem.”

Amy changed into a gray hoodie, jeans and boots then joined Logan and Traci outside. The strong morning sun had broken out above the horizon and burned off the frost from last night. The air turned warmer and the wind less fierce. Amy tilted her head back and pushed up her sleeves, absorbing the heat.

Figured. Georgia weather was unpredictable at best. It could be thirty degrees at night then spring back to seventy by noon. She'd learned a long time ago to just take it as it came.

She, Logan and Traci took up residence on the white fence lining the paddock. They lingered over the sweet and salty breakfast Betty had provided, watching the horses stroll across the dormant brown grass of the fields. The pleasant chatter of guests sounded and, soon, Raintree's grounds were speckled with visitors, all soaking up the pleasant late–November day.

After eating, Logan brought the hose around and they scrubbed their hands under the spray, cleaning the traces of grease and sweet aroma of the sandwiches away. The fewer strange smells introduced to Thunder, the better.

Amy brought the hose to her mouth, swallowing a few gulps of the water, the metallic taste of the nozzle clinging to her tongue. Logan followed suit, splashing the spray over his face and rasping his palms over the stubble lining his jaw. The thick muscles of his shoulders and back rippled beneath the tight pull of his shirt with each movement.

Amy's palms itched at the display, a deep longing to smooth her hands over his broad shoulders and weave her fingers through the dark waves of his hair overwhelming her. She turned away and faced Traci.

“Did you round up everything?”

“Yep.” Traci handed the items to her. “Rope, sticks and strings, just like you asked for.”

Amy thanked her and attached strings to two of the training sticks.

“You ready?” Logan asked, turning off the faucet and shaking his hands dry.

Amy nodded, handed Logan the rope and one of the sticks then led the way into the stable. Her heart tripped in her chest.

A finger threaded through her back belt loop and tugged. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. Logan's eyes peered into hers, the sensual curve of his lips pressing into a firm line.

“Go easy, Amy,” he said.

She swallowed hard, ignoring the warm flutter in her belly, and walked to the back of the stable to stand in front of Thunder's stall. The stallion pinned his ears and tossed his head back, nostrils flaring on sharp pulls of air.

Amy's thighs trembled. The shaking traveled down her knees to her shins, leaving her lower half weak and unstable.

“Easy,” Logan repeated.

He stood a few feet away, a tic appearing in his jaw. Traci hovered behind him.

Amy waited as Logan prepared his rope, studying the movements of his strong hands. The thick, twisted fibers seemed like such a weak support against a frightened, thousand-pound animal. She closed her eyes and placed her hand on the latch of Thunder's stall.

* * *

L
OGAN
MOVED
CLOSE
to the stall, keeping an eye on Thunder as he whipped the rope overhead and lassoed him. The stallion cried and kicked the wall with his back hooves, thrashing against the pull of the rope.

“It's okay, boy,” Amy murmured.

Thunder stopped at the sound of her voice, pinned his ears back and pawed the ground. Logan's throat closed.

“Go wait for us outside, Traci.” Logan firmed his hold on the rope, then nodded after Traci left. “Let him out.”

Amy unlatched the stall and pulled it open, raising her arms and directing Thunder's feet toward the exit. The stallion backed away, jerking wildly, but eventually exited with her encouragement.

It took several minutes to maneuver Thunder out of the stable and into the round pen. Logan removed the rope and let him buck around the pen until he settled down and drew to a halt on one side.

Amy moved toward the entrance of the pen, her tender expression causing Logan's mouth to run dry.

“He's not like you remember, Amy. He's aggressive now. Likes to dive and bite. You have to start hard and end hard.” Logan lifted his training stick, jiggling the string and motioning toward hers. “Use that thing on him if you need to.”

She frowned. “I've never whipped a horse and I won't start now.”

Logan shook his head. “I've never done it, either. But the last time I tried to work with him, he almost forced me into a position where I had no choice.”

“This time will be different,” she said, walking to the gate.

He bit back a curse. “How you figure?”

She stopped and faced him. “Because you have help. We're doing this together.”

Together. Logan glanced away, focusing on Thunder and ignoring the pleasurable tingle sweeping through him. There was no room for distractions in that pen.

He cleared his throat. “We start hard and we end hard.”

Amy opened the gate and they entered, walking to the center of the round pen. Thunder pinned his ears and pawed the ground, dipping his head and snaking it from side to side as if to attack. Logan immediately threw his left hand up and whipped his training stick behind Thunder's heels, lashing the ground with the string.

“Move,” he shouted.

Thunder started then ran left, making it halfway around the pen before he stopped. Amy stepped in, striking her stick against the ground behind him and forcing him forward. Thunder balked, rearing and spinning his back to her.

BOOK: The Rancher's Wife
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