After that, they talked about ordinary things—the weather, cattle prices, the new barn and the pasture fence.
Presently, Sheriff Book finished his coffee, asked Logan for a copy of Jake’s letter and left with the evidence that Brett Turlow, whatever else he might be guilty of, hadn’t murdered Jake Creed.
“You’d better go talk to Vance,” Logan said, surprising Briana. “I’ll take care of Alec and Josh.”
Briana swallowed, nodded. Got her purse and the keys to Dylan’s rig.
She found Vance at the trailer, after stopping briefly at his job and learning that he wasn’t working that day. The front door stood open, and through the gap, Briana saw her exhusband hurling things into a beatup suitcase.
She knocked, remaining on the porch.
He turned, scowled at her. Flushed to the roots of his hair. “I guess you’re happy now,” he said. “You got the last laugh, didn’t you?”
Briana stepped over the threshold. “Vance.”
He stopped, looked at her again.
“Nobody’s laughing,” she said.
He flung a pair of jeans into the suitcase and sagged into the patched leather chair where Briana had sat during her recent visit with Heather. Bracing his elbows on his thighs, Vance shoved both hands into his hair and stared at the floor.
Briana remained standing. “So this is it? You’re just going to leave?”
Vance didn’t look up. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“This isn’t about what I want, Vance. It’s about the boys. You’re their father, and they need you.”
“Best if I just move on,” Vance said. “You’re going to marry Logan Creed, aren’t you? He’ll make a decent stepfather—”
“Will you, just for once, stop thinking about yourself? Logan will make a good stepfather—probably a great one. You bail out now, and he’ll take up the slack, because that’s the sort of man he is. But is that really what you want, Vance? What matters more? Your stupid masculine pride, or Alec and Josh?”
When Vance raised his eyes to Briana’s face, she saw tears there. “After what happened last night—” He paused, shook his head. “After all the mistakes and the missed birthdays and the crazy stuff—” Another pause. “How am I supposed to face them, Briana?”
“Like a man,” Briana said, but gently, choking up a little herself. “Like a father.”
“You’d still let me see them?”
“Yes,” Briana said, though that part wasn’t easy for her. “Provided you don’t do anything stupid, like reconcile with Heather.”
Vance gave a raw, bitter laugh. “That’s the only good thing about this mess,” he said. “Finding out I’m not married to that maniac after all. She’s going to be in jail for a while, and when she gets out—if she gets out, ‘cuz if the kidnapping charges stick, it’s federal, according to Floyd Book—she’ll take up with some other sucker and make his life hell.”
“Then how about standing your ground, Vance? How about being a real father—present and accounted for—to your sons?”
Vance raised one eyebrow, watching her speculatively. “Wouldn’t it be easier for you if I just signed off, and your new husband adopted Alec and Josh?”
“Much easier,” Briana said, in all honesty. “For me. But we’re not talking about what’s good for me, or for you. We’re talking about what’s best for our children.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe Alec and Josh would be better off without you. And maybe there would be a Vance-shaped hole in their lives from ‘so long, Charlie’ on.”
Vance got slowly to his feet. So many emotions moved in his face that Briana couldn’t read any of them.
“If you’re going to leave, I can’t stop you,” Briana went on, when he didn’t say anything. “But at least say goodbye this time. They deserve that much, Vance.” She swallowed a sob. “They deserve that much, damn it!”
“I guess they’re at Creed’s place right now?” Vance asked hoarsely, after a very long time.
Briana bit her lower lip, nodded.
“Then I’ll go out and talk with them,” Vance said, clearly making the decision as he spoke. “See if they even want me to stick around.”
“They want you to stick around,” Briana said, swiping at her cheeks with the back of one hand. “Just ask them, and you’ll know.”
Vance approached her, checking his hip pocket for his wallet, snatching up his keys from the top of the TV. The gestures were familiar ones, the residue of a marriage that had died a long time before the divorce papers were filed. “You love this Logan Creed yahoo, Briana?” he asked gruffly. “You really love him?”
She did, she realized, with dizzying clarity, but Vance certainly wasn’t going to hear it first. Logan was—when the time was right.
“See you at the ranch,” she said, turning to go.
DYLAN SOUNDED downright beside himself. “Is this important, Logan?” he demanded, over his cell phone. “Something came up and I—”
“It’s about Jake,” Logan said. He was in the living room, watching as Josh and Alec battled cybermonsters on all three monitors of his computer.
He eased away, out of the boys’ earshot.
“Did somebody finally prove that shit-heel Brett Turd-low dumped two tons of logs on Dad up in the woods that day?”
The play on Brett’s last name was by no means original. Thinking of what the other man had endured over the years, Logan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Old man, he thought, you fucked up so many people’s lives. “No,” Logan said quietly. “He’s been cleared.”
“Then what, damn it?” Dylan shot back.
“It’s not something I can tell you over the phone,” Logan replied.
“Is this another gambit to get me back to the homeplace?” Dylan asked, sounding distracted. “Because, brother, I am in no mood for games right now.”
“I did kind of hope you’d show up for the wedding,” Logan said, surprised to feel one corner of his mouth tug upward in a grin.
“The wedding? You and Briana?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t it a little soon—?”
“Can’t be soon enough to suit me,” Logan answered.
“Do I have to remind you that you’ve already got two strikes against you?”
“This is different.”
“That’s what they all say,” Dylan argued. “’This is different.’ Hell, I’ve said it myself.”
“As soon as we get the license and explain things to the kids,” Logan said, “Briana and I are getting married. That would be three or four days from now, give or take ten minutes. Be there, or be square.”
“’Be there, or be square’?” Dylan groaned comically. “Have you been watching vintage TV or something? I think they said that in Dad’s generation.”
Logan chuckled, but his eyes burned at the mention of his dad, at the reminder. Life had been too painful for Jake, so he’d just checked out. It would take some doing to get over that.
“Is Jim going to be your best man, or is the job open?” Dylan asked.
Logan sensed that everything teetered in the balance, as far as his relationship with Dylan—or lack of one—was concerned. “Job’s open,” Logan said. “If you get here in time, that is.”
“I’ll try,” Dylan grumbled. That was probably as close as he’d get to a promise. He still sounded strange—not just distracted, but beleaguered.
“Is everything all right?” Logan asked.
“Oh, it’s just peachy,” Dylan snapped.
“Talk about vintage lingo.”
“Look, Logan, I—Stop that, damn it—”
Another grin warmed Logan’s face. “Are you with a woman?”
“I wish,” Dylan said. “I’ve got to hang up now—I said stop it—but I’ll get there when I can. If I don’t show up in time, go ahead without me.”
Logan chuckled, rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Trust me, I will. Vegas is always an option—we wouldn’t have to wait for a license there.”
&n
bsp; Dylan sighed in a very un-Dylanlike way. “Vegas,” he muttered. “Bright lights. Good-looking women. Twentyfour-hour poker games. Silver buckles at the National Finals Rodeo. Those, my brother, were the days.”
“Do me one favor,” Logan said quickly, sensing that Dylan was about to hang up.
“What?”
“Get word to Tyler, if you can. Tell him I need to talk to him, in person.”
“He’s not speaking to me, Logan—I told you that. Wait—Oh, shit—”
“Just do it, Dylan.”
Dylan rang off without a goodbye—or a promise.
What the hell was going on with him, anyway? Woman trouble, most likely, though he hadn’t been willing to admit it.
Logan had no time to ponder the question further, because all three dogs started barking, and the boys rushed to the front windows, and in the next moment, they were yelling, “Dad’s here!”
Time to make yourself scarce, Logan told himself.
He left by the back way, made for the barn, stealing a glance at the new arrivals as he went.
Briana got out of Dylan’s truck, and Vance got out of the van.
Vance put a hand on each of his sons’ shoulders and then the three of them crouched in the yard, like a posse picking up a trail in the dirt, and powwowed.
Briana reached the barn a few moments after Logan did, her face puffy, her eyes red-rimmed, smiling from ear-to-ear. Sticking both hands into the pockets of the lightweight pink hoodie she’d put on that morning, along with jeans and sneakers, she tilted her head back to look up at the new beams overhead.
“Looks pretty sturdy,” she said, with a sniffle.
“Built to last,” Logan agreed, watching her. “You all right?”
She met his gaze again. Sniffled again. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she said.
Logan braced himself. He’d lost a lot in his life—his mother, Jake, two wives and a lot of dreams. If Briana backed out, said she wasn’t going to marry him after all, it would be worse than all the other things combined.
They stood about a dozen feet apart, in the shadowy coolness of the barn, with its new stalls and roof. It had stood more than a hundred years, that barn, and now it could stand a hundred more.
None of which would matter, without Briana, without Alec and Josh. Even without Wanda, for Pete’s sake.
“I—” She stopped, moistened her lips. She wasn’t wearing a lick of makeup, and yet she looked Botticellibeautiful. “I think you should know—”
“Briana, you’re driving me crazy here.”
“I love you,” she blurted.
The whole universe ground to a stop. “What—?”
Color flared in her cheeks. “I know it’s crazy, but—”
He closed the distance between them, picked her up by the waist and spun her around, with a shout of joy. And then he kissed her.
Really kissed her.
She was gasping when he finally let her come up for air. “Are you—Do you—?”
“I love you, Briana Grant,” he said. And then he flung back his head and yelled it, because he couldn’t keep it inside. “I love this woman!”
She beamed up at him. “Guess we won’t have to worry about breaking the news to the kids,” she said. “Or any of the neighbors, either.”
He laughed. “Guess not,” he said.
One small figure appeared in the doorway of the barn, then another.
“Are you and Logan getting married?” Alec asked.
“If that’s all right with you,” Logan said, praying to God it was. If the boys had objections, they’d really be getting off on the wrong foot.
“You’d be our dad?” Josh inquired cautiously.
“You’ve got a dad,” Logan replied. “I’d be your stepfather.”
Silence.
Logan waited. Briana waited.
“Yee-haw!” Alec yelled suddenly, punching the air with one fist.
“Ya-hoo!” Josh bellowed.
“They seem to approve,” Briana said dryly.
“Can we spend the night at Dad’s place?” Josh wanted to know. “Heather’s gone, so the coast is clear.”
“It’s a little soon for that,” Briana answered. “Let’s wait ‘til things settle down a bit.”
“Like that’s ever going to happen,” Alec remarked.
“He’s got a point,” Logan told Briana.
“Not tonight,” Briana said firmly.
The boys were only momentarily disappointed, zooming back out into the sunlight.
“Mom said ‘not tonight,’” Alec reported.
“She’s going to marry Logan!” Josh announced.
Logan slipped an arm around Briana’s waist, and they followed the kids.
Vance was standing by the corral fence, watching the horses.
After exchanging glances with Briana, Logan approached Vance while she steered the boys toward the house.
“That’s some fine horseflesh there,” Vance said, without looking at Logan.
“Thanks,” Logan answered, bracing both arms on the top fence rail. “In a day or two, I’ll have cattle, too. Not a herd, but the start of one.”
Vance nodded, his gaze still fixed on the horses. “Briana’s a good woman,” he said. “You give her any grief, and you’ll have me to deal with, cowboy.”
“I was about to tell you the same thing,” Logan said. “You planning to head out?”
“I was,” Vance answered. “But I don’t think I can leave those boys of mine. I’ve got a job and the trailer and my old van—not much, but something—so I reckon I’ll stay put.”
“That’s good,” Logan said, and he knew he’d caught Vance off guard. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other man staring at him.
“Good?” Vance echoed.
“Josh and Alec are great kids,” Logan replied. “If they were mine, I wouldn’t leave them, either. No way, no how.”
“Briana told you—about Wal-Mart?”
Logan nodded. “She told me.”
“It was a damn fool thing to do, leaving them like that.”
“No argument there,” Logan said mildly. “But that’s in the past. What matters is what you do now.”
“Yeah,” Vance said, looking toward the house again. “You tell my boys I’ll be back another day, will you?”
“I’ll tell them,” Logan answered.
Vance turned and walked away, toward his van.
And Logan headed for the house, where Briana waited, and the boys were probably playing games at the computer again.
She was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee, looking at the collection of Creed pictures, smiling every once in a while.
Once again, she’d stopped Logan in his tracks. Taken his breath away.
“You,” she said, looking up at him with a twinkle in her green eyes, “were one seriously cute little kid.”
“I was angelic, too,” he said, grinning.
“Don’t push it,” Briana replied wryly.
“I have something for you,” he told her. He went into the living room, interrupted an intergalactic battle long enough to pull a folder from his desk drawer, returned to the kitchen.
He set the folder on the table, in front of Briana.
She looked up at him curiously. “What—? Tell me these aren’t legal papers… .”
“Take a look,” he urged, with a grin, drawing up a second chair and sitting down. Breathing in the scent of her hair and her skin.
Slowly, Briana opened the folder. Then she gasped.
“The pictures,” she marveled, staring down at a sheet of snapshots showing Josh and Alec as toddlers, splashing in a plastic swimming pool. She turned to the next sheet, and then the next, and a tear slipped down her right cheek.
Logan didn’t wipe it away, as much as he wanted to.
“Oh, Logan,” she whispered, looking at him mistily. His wild-west Madonna. She probably had no clue how lovely she was—and that was part of her charm. “You fixed them
—”
“The originals are still in pretty bad shape,” he said. “But I did what I could.”
She closed the folder, scooted off her chair and onto his lap. Wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead into his cheek. They sat like that until Alec bombed in.
“Josh!” he whooped, delighted. “Mom is sitting on Logan’s lap!“
“Yuckaroo!” Josh yelled from the living room.
Briana laughed, and the vibrations wreaked havoc on Logan’s senses.
“And they’re snuggling!” Alec reported triumphantly.
“Film at eleven,” Logan joked.
“Like I’d let you film what’s going to be happening by then,” Briana murmured, this time into his neck.
At eleven that night, as it happened, both boys had been asleep for several hours.
And the venerable walls of the master bedroom absorbed the sounds of unrestrained pleasure, the cries of a man and a woman who loved each other, and knew it.
EPILOGUE
Three days later…
FRANKLY, BRIANA was a little intimidated.
Logan’s house in Las Vegas could have housed the main concourse of a major shopping mall, with room to spare. The floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room overlooked the gleaming spectacle of the city by night, punctuated by the forms of colossal cacti and rock formations that could only have carried God’s byline.
The boys were at home, with Vance—Kristy had promised to look in on them and call in case of an emergency, and Josh, as always, had his cell phone.
Logan handed Briana a champagne flute bubbling with ginger ale. He’d worn a tux to their wedding, at a chapel on the Strip, and swapped it out for slacks and a sports shirt after the ceremony. Briana was still sporting the sleek emerald-green evening gown she’d chosen for the occasion, the day before, in one of the Forum shops at Caesar’s.
Briana tapped her flute against Logan’s, studying his face closely for any signs of regret. He bent his head, kissed her with light, lingering leisure.
“I’m sorry Dylan didn’t make it,” she said, once she’d caught her breath. This world—Logan’s world—was so different from anything she’d ever known.
Thank God they’d be going home to Stillwater Springs Ranch first thing in the morning.
Logan chuckled against her mouth. “Classic Dylan,” he murmured. “He’ll turn up when he’s damn good and ready, and so will Tyler.”
Montana Creeds: Logan Page 29