Logan stared into the distance, seeing more than just the horizon. “You’ve said you wanted to retire, and I have enough collateral to cover the purchase price. I’d like you to agree to let Merrie take over management at the end of the summer.”
“And if you don’t ‘sort’ things out?”
A sick sensation twisted in Logan’s gut. No. He couldn’t lose Merrie. “Well, I guess you’ll have to trust me on that one. And you’ll have to trust Merrie. She deserves a shot at the Bar Nothing, whether we end up together or not.”
Chapter Ten
“Logan Kincaid! What did you think you were doing?”
The question woke Logan from a much-needed nap, and he yawned. Merrie could sure pack a lot of volume for such a little thing. “Something wrong, honey?”
“Yeah...you made a deal with Granddad.”
Logan lifted himself on his elbows. He’d gone up to the slope behind the ranch house, trying to sort things out in his head.
It hadn’t taken long.
If it came to a choice between Merrie and anything else, he’d choose Merrie. In a way, the choice had already been made days ago. He could play the stock market on a computer when they weren’t busy with the ranch. With so much modern technology available, you didn’t have to live in New York to deal on Wall Street.
Then he’d fallen asleep, more content than he ever remembered feeling. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“What about it? That’s what you wanted, to buy the Bar Nothing. I just nudged things along a little.” “You have no right interfering. This is my life. Jeez, I can’t believe you’d go behind my back like that!”
The muscles in Logan’s body tightened and he climbed to his feet. “I didn’t go behind your back—at least not the way you seem to think. I wanted you to have your dream. Why are you so upset?”
“Why?” Merrie threw out her hands, her face white and strained. “You don’t get it, do you? I’ve been working my entire life for this, and now, because a man walks in with a ton of money and the right set of chromosomes, Granddad decides he can trust ‘us’ with the ranch.”
“I do ‘get’ it.” Logan reminded himself not to get angry. “Honey, it wasn’t because he didn’t trust you.”
“Sure. That’s why he decided he could sell me the ranch after he thought we were engaged. A big strong man to take care of things.”
“No. A partner. That’s all he wanted...for you to have someone of your own. Not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t want you to spend your life alone here.”
“It wouldn’t have happened that way.”
“No?” Logan caught Merrie’s shoulders and shook her gently. “You’re so single-minded and stubborn you can’t see anything but the Bar Nothing.”
“What am I supposed to see?” she asked sarcastically.
“Me, honey. Me.”
“Oh, right.” Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths of air. “The stockbroker. The man who doesn’t believe in marriage. The man who wants to live in New York.”
“And the man who’s so crazy about you he’s willing to argue this stupid argument. Don’t forget that one.”
“Terrific. I’m stupid.”
Damnation. It was hard not to get angry. Merrie was so blasted stubborn she wasn’t hearing anything he was saying. “Sweetheart, you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, but you don’t listen.”
“What am I supposed to hear? All the logical reasons I can’t manage the ranch by myself?”
“Hell,” Logan cursed, losing his tenuous hold on his temper. “You talk about wanting a partner in your marriage, but you’re not interested in a partnership. You want to get the ranch by yourself, then drop some poor sap into it like the cherry on top of an ice-cream sundae.”
“That’s insulting,” Merrie snapped.
“For the man it certainly is. Well, honey, I’m not playing it your way. What if I want it all?”
She looked at him uncertainly. “All what?”
“Both. A partnership and a marriage. With you. On the Bar Nothing. And you’re going to have to make up that pigheaded mind of yours, because I’m not going to take anything less.”
Merrie shook her head, so confused she could hardly think. “I don’t believe that.”
“Well, believe this.”
Logan caught her tight and hard against him, kissing her mouth like a hawk falling on prey. He wasn’t wooing, he was demanding...with all the pent-up fury of denied passion and anger, and the pain of thoughtless words both spoken and received.
A moan welled from Merrie’s chest and was lost in the assault upon her senses. How could you think clearly in the middle of so much heat?
As though remembering his greater strength, Logan’s hold lightened, his hands stroking up and down her back, urging her closer of her own accord.
“Logan, no,” she sighed, her words lost in the sultry warmth of his kiss, and the satin glide of his tongue, thrusting deeper and deeper between her lips.
Somehow, she had to make sense of the confusion raging inside her head, and she broke away. Shivering, despite the heat of the day and aching with so much emotion she hardly knew herself.
“Merrie...come back,” Logan said hoarsely, his eyes so dark with emotion they looked black, even in the sunlight.
She put her fingers to her mouth. “I can’t...I have to think.”
Merrie stumbled away, and by the time she reached the barn she was running. Sun Spot was tied to the corral, waiting patiently for the ride that had been postponed by her grandfather’s news. She untied him and fitted her foot into the stirrup.
Sun Spot loved to gallop and she gave him his head. Her hair came free from its loose confinement, and she bent over the palomino’s neck, letting her body move with the powerful animal.
You can’t see anything but the Bar Nothing.
The accusation had angered her, but mostly because it was true. She’d had to focus all her attention, all her energy on getting the ranch. It was the only way to earn the down payment, of proving her determination to her grandfather. And all through those years, what had frightened her about falling in love was the possibility of losing the ranch. Yet love was part of her dream...children and a husband who loved her dearly.
Logan had said he was crazy about her, but he hadn’t said he loved her. “Crazy” might translate to sex, more than love. There was no doubt he wanted her with a volcanic intensity—she wanted him the same way.
“Tarnation,” Merrie groaned, finally pulling Sun Spot to a halt. She’d instinctively headed for her favorite place on the ranch...the hill where she’d taken Logan that first day.
She sat, breathing hard with Sun Spot, and staring up at the rocky outcropping. Memories of Logan’s caresses and urgent words echoed in her ears.
You want to get the ranch by yourself, then drop some poor sap into it like the cherry on top of an ice-cream sundae.
“No.
Merrie didn’t even realize she’d spoken the word aloud until Sun Spot moved restlessly, and she patted his neck, soothing him. She’d always known she would have to marry a man who was interested in the ranch...someone who wanted to make it his home. But not the way Logan had made it sound. Right? Not calculated and cold-blooded. Not possessively.
Yet when she remembered the accusations she’d thrown at him, Merrie muttered another curse. Logan had every right to be angry and disgusted.
“What am I going to do?” she whispered.
If Logan loved her...then he had to be hurt, wondering if the ranch was more important than him.
What if I want it all? A partnership and a marriage?
Not exactly a proposal, but clear enough to know what he wanted...what he intended.
Merrie wrapped her arms around her stomach and moaned. Despite all her attempts to protect herself, she was going to have to choose between Logan and the ranch. He had too much pride to stay for long in Montana, always questioning how much she cared for him. She could
n’t even blame him...the same question would torment her if the situation was reversed.
They couldn’t live on her dreams alone. Marriage meant compromise. It wasn’t one person getting everything, and the other going along.
What should she do?
Merrie lifted her head and looked around at the surrounding countryside. If she chose Logan, it wouldn’t belong to her anymore. This land had sheltered her family for more than a century. Their homestead had been the first permanent structure. Generations of Hardings rested in a small cemetery west of the house. What would those Hardings decide if they had to choose?
Then...without any more thought, Merrie knew.
Logan.
Despite the sweat and toil, the history of their blood written upon the land...they’d choose love.
Because without love, the land meant nothing.
“Tell me something,” Merrie said as she slowly walked up to the ranch house. Logan was sitting on the porch steps and her feet faltered. He was solid and real, and his face was grim as he looked at her, waiting for a response.
“What?”
“Would you have come to Montana, if you’d known how things were going to turn out?” she asked.
A wry smile curved his mouth. “I think that depends on the next few minutes...and what you’re going to tell me. Not that I intend to give up, you understand.”
“Of course not.”
“I’m just as stubborn as you are, and don’t forget it.”
“I know.” Merrie put her hands into her pockets and shrugged. She was good at breaking horses and running a dude ranch, not at romance. Until she’d met Logan it had been easy to avoid entanglement. None of the men she’d met had ever tempted her. But Logan...he was electric. Nobody could ignore Logan Kincaid, at least not a woman under ninety.
The ranch had isolated her from the turmoil and dangers of falling in love. And the joy. She couldn’t forget that part, though up till now, falling in love had been pretty traumatic. It certainly wasn’t all roses and romantic candlelight
“Well, honey?” he prompted gently. “I may not be the best husband prospect, but I’m willing to let go of my past...all those fears about getting married. What about you? Can you share that dream you’ve wanted for so long?”
“I...” The words stuck in her throat. He still hadn’t said he loved her. But she loved him. Terribly. So much it scared the living daylights out of her. “What about me being the wrong kind of woman? I’m not sophisticated or blond, or any of that stuff.”
He reached out a long arm and took her hand in his. By comparison, her fingers were small and delicate...but a long way from manicured perfection. You couldn’t be manicured on a ranch. Merrie wasn’t even sure she could manage it in New York, no matter how hard she tried. She wasn’t made for cocktail parties and designer clothing.
Logan laced their fingers together and tugged until she stood between his outstretched legs. He was so tall their eyes were almost at the same level, though he remained seated on the step.
“Honey, I would have hated a woman from Sully’s wife list. Tall and blond?” He shrugged and touched a lock of her windblown auburn hair. “That was immature—a holdover from leering at the high school cheerleader in her miniskirts. I much prefer hair the color of cinnamon, and someone who fits against my heart as though we’d been made for each other.”
“But—”
“As for reserved, composed and elegant?” he continued as though she hadn’t said anything. “That was because I thought of Grace Kelly. She always looked distant and unattainable, and since I didn’t want a wife anyway, unattainable seemed like a good idea.”
“You could have anyone you want,” Merrie muttered.
“Flattering, but not true.” His thumb traced circles over her palm and she ‘trembled. “Now let’s see... sophisticated. There are all kinds of sophistication...like a woman who appreciates people just the way they are. A woman who can be compassionate to someone like Gloria Scott, even when she’s hurting inside herself.”
“Oh.” Warmth burned in Merrie’s face. Yet a secret pleasure was growing inside her. “You heard us talking.”
“Yeah, I heard. You were sweet and kind, even though Gloria doesn’t deserve anything from you.”
“She was upset. I think she really loves Chip.”
“That would be a miracle.” But his voice wasn’t caustic, just amused. “Honey...don’t you see? That list was about not getting married. It wasn’t about us.”
“What about me being too emotional?”
He urged her closer, pulling till she was sitting on his hard thigh. She squirmed a little, because the pressure on her fanny made sultry sensations dart through her veins and settle deep in her tummy. And from his smile, she knew Logan understood exactly what it did to her. His large hand settled over her abdomen, massaging the affected area and making it worse.
“Logan,” she said desperately. “I don’t think you should do that.”
“Oh...” He smiled wickedly. “I definitely think I should. You see, that’s part of you being emotional... knowing you want me, and being unable to hide what you feel. You’re so incredibly honest, Merrie. Especially the way you respond to me.” His expression sobered and he kissed her throat. “That was the problem between my parents—they were so busy playing games and hurting each other, they never took the time to be honest.”
“I’m not sure how honest I am,” she muttered. “It seems I keep doing things for certain reasons, and realizing later that the reasons were completely different.”
“That’s okay. We all do it—that’s human nature.”
Merrie relaxed into Logan’s chest. As a junior high school science teacher, she knew a lot about biology. She saw budding biology at work in her students, and she knew about the scientific processes. But none of that could explain why the feel of his heat-dampened body could make her breath short and nerves jumpy with sensual awareness.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Logan jerked. “What did you say?”
“I love you,” she said quickly, sitting up straight again. “And I’ll live in Seattle or New York, if that’s what you want. I can’t promise to really fit into that big city life-style, but I’ll try. So...are you going to marry me or what?”
Logan looked at Merrie, her chin raised stubbornly in the air, ready for his rejection if that’s what was coming. He didn’t know if he should laugh or shake her.
“Of course we’re going to get married. I happen to love you, too,” he drawled.
“You do?” The shattering joy and delight in her green eyes humbled him. Never in his life had he imagined such a woman, so full of life and courage. And she belonged to him, the way he belonged to her.
“I absolutely adore you,” Logan vowed. “I’ve just been too stubborn to admit it. If I hadn’t found you on that tree house, I would have spent the rest of my life being miserable. I’ve already made a bundle of money, but it would never have been enough.”
“Your scorecard,” Merrie said quietly.
“Yes. A scorecard...get so many points, and then I’d be happy. Only by the time I’d made those points, the rules would have changed, and I’d need to make more. You understood what I was trying to do, even when I didn’t.”
She winced and bit her lip. “Yeah, but haven’t I been doing the same thing with the ranch?”
He stroked his thumb across her mouth, his eyes tender. “There are some dreams worth fighting for...and the Bar Nothing is one of them. I want to raise our kids here. It’s a wonderful heritage, Merrie. You were right about that.”
“Children?” she breathed.
“Yeah...a bunch. Any objections?”
She shook her head vigorously. “No.”
“Good. But you’ll have to be careful when you’re pregnant, and not overdo,” he warned. “I’m going to be very old-fashioned about that. Actually I want you to be careful all the time, but especially when you’re having a baby.”
“I can already tell, you’re going to be a worrywart. Pregnancy doesn’t incapacitate a woman,” Merrie argued. But she didn’t look too upset, more amused.
“Honey! I’m not joking.”
“Okay, I’ll be careful.” Even though she’d agreed, Logan knew he’d have to watch her. She was too blasted independent.
“Good. And we’re not living in the city,” he ordered. “I hate the city. It’s a terrible place to raise kids.”
Merrie squirmed some more on his lap and he groaned. He finally caught her hips to hold her still.
“You don’t hate the city,” she insisted. “I remember perfectly. You said you hated small towns.”
“The Bar Nothing isn’t a small town.”
“It isn’t the city, either.”
“That’s right.”
She drew back, puzzled. “I don’t understand.”
“The truth is I never really liked big cities. They just seemed better than a small community where people gossip and know everything about you. And cities are easier places to make a name for yourself... easier to prove I wasn’t just some second-rate kid from the wrong side of town.”
Merrie framed his face in her hands and kissed him lightly, lovingly, on the lips. “You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me. Not ever. And you were never second-rate. Do you hear me, Logan Kincaid?”
A wild freedom expanded in Logan’s chest. He’d never have to prove himself to Merrie. She loved and believed in him, and that was all he’d ever need.
“I hear you. And we are living in Montana,” he said for good measure. “I don’t want any argument about it.”
“Me? Argue?”
“Yeah, you. The Red Bombshell.”
“Not a chance.”
“Hmm.” Logan lifted Merrie and carried her to the porch swing. Several cowboys were working around the corrals and he wanted some privacy to kiss her properly. “I suppose we’re going to have some terrific arguments,” he murmured, cuddling her close.
The Marriage Stampede (Wranglers & Lace #5) Page 15