She bit her lip and nodded helplessly.
“Is it bad?”
Again, she nodded. Perspiration trickled down the back of her neck, sticking to her hair.
“Hang on. I’ll get you home fast.”
Logan revved the engine and the truck roared down the highway. Minutes later they reached the gates of Sunset Ranch and Logan slowed the truck. “My house or the cottage?”
“Take me home,” she said, wanting the comfort of her own surroundings, new as they were, but also familiar.
The truck roared to life again and after a short time, the dimmed lamppost lights in front of the stone house came into view. Sophia thanked all things holy that she was finally home.
Logan brought the truck to an abrupt halt. He got out, and she heard his boots on the gravel path as he approached the passenger’s side. Doubled over now, she pressed both arms against her belly, attempting to make the aching go away. Logan opened her door and when their eyes met, the stern set of his jaw softened and he cursed. “I’ll get you out.”
Before she could protest, he bent down to unfasten her seat belt, removing her arms from around her belly first to get them out of his way.
“It’s not necessary to carry me,” she whispered.
Her statement fell on deaf ears. He scooped her from the seat, one hand lifting under her knees, the other at her shoulders. As if this weren’t humiliating enough, her dress slid to her upper thighs. Logan’s gaze locked onto her legs shamelessly as he brought her out of the truck. His hip shoved the door closed.
As he strode purposefully toward her front door, Sophia clung to his neck, giving in to the power and strength of his arms. Cradled this way, she felt safe and protected, though she knew in her head she should be wary of him. She shouldn’t let down her guard. Once they reached the porch, he set her legs down, reached into his pocket and came out with a set of keys. He inserted one into the lock and kicked open the front door. Then he picked her back up.
Moonlight streamed inside, illuminating the front room just enough to guide the way. Logan moved with the grace of a cat into the house, finding the parlor sofa easily. He lowered her gently onto her backside. With her arms still locked around his neck, Logan’s face came within inches of hers and their gazes met through the darkness. A brief moment passed between them. The dark coolness in his eyes blazed now with heat so strong, memories flooded Sophia’s mind of the one blissful, wonderful, sizzling kiss they’d shared so long ago. Her stomach stopped aching for a short time and she became mesmerized by the possibility that was Logan Slade. But just as her mind wrapped around the idea, the heat in Logan’s eyes offering that possibility died away, replaced again by a cold, unreadable stare. Sophia swallowed hard, relinquishing the moment to foolishness.
Logan unlocked her arms from around his neck and rose to full height. “I’ll be right back.”
She lay her head down on the arm of the sofa and listened as he went to his truck. When he returned, he flipped on a lamp on the end table. Soft light flowed into the room. Standing over her, he lifted her hand in his and plopped two round pink tablets down in her palm. “Take these first,” he said.
She stared at them.
“They will help,” he offered, his voice gruff.
They might be poison for all she knew, but she was pretty sure they were antacids, and though she was certain they wouldn’t help, she lifted them to her lips, opened her mouth and chewed. They went down like chalk and made her mouth dry.
“Now,” Logan said, “Take a swig of this.”
He bent onto his knees by the sofa. With a gentle hand, he lifted her head and guided a pink bottle to her lips.
She shook her head. Mixing medications wasn’t wise. “I don’t think so.”
He leaned back a little, holding the bottle away from her. “Trust me on this, it works. I’ve been where you are now. Why do you suppose I carry this stuff in my truck on Kickin’ days?”
Sophia closed her eyes to the look of concern on Logan’s face. It didn’t make sense that he would try to help her. He detested her and wanted her gone yesterday. How could she trust him?
Another cutting pain seized her stomach. “Oh.”
His hand, still nestled in her hair, lifted her head up a little more. “C’mon, Sophia. Just drink it.”
She bit the bullet and gave him her trust, craning her neck forward. He tipped the bottle, and she sipped from it a few times.
“That’s good,” he said. “Give it a few minutes.”
She lay her head down after swallowing the awful liquid. “You don’t have to stay.”
Once again, he ignored her comment. He rose and walked off. She listened for the front door to close, hoping that he’d leave, but instead she heard him fidgeting around in the kitchen. He turned on the microwave. The thought of food of any sort made her queasy.
Her eyes drifted closed and only when she felt something warm being placed on her belly, did she open them again. The warmed dishtowel acted much like a heating pad and soon, between the meds and the heat, the gripping pain in her stomach began to ease.
“You should take a warm bath later,” he said.
She lifted her gaze to Logan’s face.
“Of course, I’d offer to do that with you, too,” he said, the momentary flicker of heat once again in his eyes, “but I’ve got a feeling that wouldn’t go over too well.”
It hurt to smile, but Sophia managed to anyway. “You’ll never know.”
“The way I didn’t know you were going to be sick?”
Humiliation mixed with anger and Sophia hinged her body forward to get up from the sofa. “Is that why you’re here? To rub my nose in it?”
He laid a hand on her shoulder, easing her back down. “Lay back. Don’t get riled.”
“Don’t rile me then.” Her head plopped down on the arm of the sofa again.
“You don’t like being wrong.”
“Why are you helping me?” She turned her head to face him.
“You don’t know my compassionate side.”
“Do you have one?”
“Are you feeling better yet?”
Sophia stopped arguing with Logan long enough to realize she was feeling better. Almost as quickly as her stomach had become unsettled, it began to feel remarkably normal again. “Yes, I am.” She glanced into his eyes. They were so intense and stubborn one minute, and then so kind and caring the next. “I do feel better.”
Logan nodded. “I don’t kick a person when they’re down.”
“You mean you want a level playing field for when you destroy me?”
“I never said I wanted to destroy you, Soph.”
Soph?
And then it all became clear. Just when she’d thought Logan might have come around and wanted to be civil to her, just when she thought the past was forgiven and they could start anew, she caught on to what he was doing. She still owed him her thanks for helping her recover from her suffering tonight, but now she knew the reason why. “It’s because of Luke, isn’t it? You promised to see me home safely and you’re a man of your word. You’re doing this for Luke. Not for me.”
His eyebrows dented into his forehead. “You have a strange way of thanking a man.”
Sophia’s ire sparked. Logan ran hot and cold with her and she never knew where she stood with him. Her frustration echoed in a shrewish raised voice. “How would you like me to thank you?”
Instantly, his gaze swept over her as she lay on the couch. “Let me give you that bath and we can call it even.”
The idea of bathing with Logan brought a different kind of queasiness to her belly. Images danced in her head. But she was weak where Logan Slade was concerned. He didn’t deserve her passionate thoughts.
But then another thought entered her mind, an uncomfortable memory that had nothing to
do with Logan at all. Don’t go there, Sophia, she reminded herself. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. But the image from her Las Vegas days wouldn’t leave her.
She had been sitting in front of her dressing-room mirror backstage before her performance when she discovered the first note tucked under her makeup case. Bone-chilling fear had traveled along her spine when she read the words.
You are too beautiful, Sophia. You will be mine one day.
She’d received five similar notes, all with the same strange sentiment. What had freaked her out the most was that the person sending the notes had known a lot about her. She’d found envelopes printed with her name on the front windshield of her car or left for her at the motel where her mother worked. The actual words weren’t threatening, so she’d never gone to the police, and she’d never worried her mother about them, either. But Sophia had been frightened on more than one occasion when she’d sensed that someone had been watching her.
After a while, Sophia started really looking at the faces of the men who would come to her shows. She began wondering if the note writer was among them, studying her.
“Thinking about it?” Logan asked, taunting her to answer.
Sophia returned her attention to the man who had rescued her this evening, the man who had invited himself to bathe with her. He had known what her answer would be before he suggested it. He wasn’t serious. Perhaps, if she had an inkling that he was, she might be persuaded to change her mind. Yes, join me in a bath, Logan.
But Sophia was through playing his games tonight. She had enough bad memories to battle and now a queasy stomach to deal with. He’d been kind earlier and she’d wanted to believe that they could get along. She’d relished being in his arms while he carried her inside. She’d appreciated him staying to make sure she would recover. But had she only imagined his concern?
“You should go now.”
He looked at her sprawled out on the sofa and inhaled sharply, as if the idea of bathing with her hadn’t been a joke. “Yeah, I was thinking that same thing.”
“Th-thank you for driving me home,” she said through tight lips that didn’t want to form the words. “And for...for helping me tonight.”
He gave her a quick nod.
Sophia turned away from him then, feeling mixed up inside. She closed her eyes to the sound of Logan’s footsteps fading away. There was no fond farewell from him. No “I hope you feel better,” and no “Call me if you need my help again.” It was a chilling reminder for her not to let down her guard with Logan. He would fool her time and time again, if she allowed it.
The front door opened and closed, and then he was gone.
Only then did Sophia realize that Logan Slade had his own key to the cottage.
He could barge in on her anytime he wanted.
Four
Constance Branford offered Sophia a lemon poppy seed muffin with strawberry filling. She’d briefly met the lodge’s head cook yesterday on her tour with Ruth, and now Sophia sat beside her at a long country oak table, the only piece of furniture in the lodge’s spotless stainless-steel kitchen that wasn’t updated and brand-new. “Oh, no thanks, Constance. I couldn’t possibly.”
Edward’s nana withdrew the basket. To avoid insulting the chef, Sophia quickly explained, “I had my first encounter with Kickin’s chili last night. My stomach is still touchy.”
Constance made a tsking sound. “That’s not food,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t know why the men go there. Edward’s been hounding me to let him eat there, but it’s not for a young one’s stomach. He’ll just have to wait.”
Sophia smiled. The head chef certainly had her ideas about what constituted a good meal. “Apparently, it’s not for my stomach, either. I should stick to the lodge’s food.” She took in the broad range of pastries, biscuits and muffins set out and ready to be served. Behind them, two sous chefs were busy chopping up vegetables and preparing batters. She thought about how Blackie had made off with the spatula right under Constance’s nose and how Edward had offered her his apology. The boy had taken Sophia’s advice. Right in the middle of the table in a clear mason jar sat a small bouquet of wildflowers, picked straight from the fields outside the lodge.
“Your grandson is a nice boy,” Sophia said.
“He’s mischievous, like any ten-year-old, but yes, a good boy. He’s had a rough time without his parents.” Constance, whose eyes brightened when speaking of Edward, didn’t fit the mold of a white-haired, rocking-chair nana at all. The astute, intelligent woman who ran the lodge’s kitchen was quite capable, but there was an underlying current of sadness in her expression, too.
“I know something about losing a parent. It’s never easy, but with a child...”
Constance shook her head. “Edward’s parents aren’t dead.”
Sophia blinked.
“My son and his wife have drug addictions. It got really bad and the first seven years of Edward’s life were tumultuous. They left Edward with me, and I have legal custody.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Sophia had experience with her father’s addiction but poor Edward had to live through that turmoil with both of his parents. At least for Sophia, she’d been blessed with a loving mother to raise her, but the boy hadn’t been so lucky. Perhaps the resulting trauma was responsible for his speech problems.
“The best thing those two ever did was to hand over his custody to me without putting up a fight. They knew Edward would be better off with me. I’m doing the best I can to give him a stable home.”
“Sunset Ranch is the best place for that. I grew up on the ranch and loved living here as a child.”
“I agree. And Logan has been kind to Edward, giving him responsibilities on the ranch to make my grandson feel needed. Letting him take care of Blackie was a very good idea.”
Logan again? Why did everyone think the man a saint? But in this case, Sophia couldn’t begrudge his kindness to the boy. “Boys and dogs go hand in hand.”
Constance glanced at her watch. “He should be back from walking the dog soon. He gets up early on school days to feed and walk Blackie.”
“Shall we go over this month’s menus now, before he gets here?”
“Certainly. Can you handle coffee?”
“It smells delicious.” She stroked her tender stomach that was begging for something warm and comforting. “I would love some.”
Constance poured them both a cup and they got down to business. Sophia had some ideas for a summery theme for next month’s menu. But she had to be delicate about making suggestions. Stepping into Ruth’s shoes, and trying to make changes this early on, could ruffle feathers. Even so, Sophia was determined to have a hand in everything going on at Sunset Ranch. She remembered her mother’s prowess and how involved she’d been with every aspect of the lodge.
Ten minutes later after a productive conversation with Constance, Edward walked through the kitchen doors, wearing a backpack and a shy smile. Sophia waved at him as he shuffled his way over to his nana.
“Edward,” Constance said, “have you fed and walked Blackie already?”
He nodded and slipped Sophia a guilty glance. She reassured him with a friendly smile that said their little secret was safe, not that she’d ever tattle on the boy to Logan about their encounter yesterday, or anything for that matter. “Hello, Edward. Good to see you again.”
“Hi.”
“Is your lunch in your backpack?” Constance asked.
Again, he nodded.
“Okay then, off you go. You don’t want to be late for the bus.” Constance took his hand and walked him to the door. He reached up to give his nana a big hug, Constance squeezing him tight and kissing his forehead before letting him go. “Have a good day at school, sweetie.”
Right before he strode out the door, he turned to Sophia a
nd gave her a wide smile. “G-goodbye.”
Touched by the boy’s consideration, she tipped her head. “Bye, Edward.”
Sophia finished her coffee and concluded her business with Constance, bidding her farewell and walking away from the kitchen’s savory scents. In the well-designed lobby, her heels clicked on the stone floors as she headed toward her office. She still had difficulty believing that she owned any part of these elegantly rustic surroundings, yet each morning before she got out of bed, she reminded herself that half of the lodge belonged to her.
Luke appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and walked alongside her. “Mornin’. Hey, can I speak with you a sec?”
“Good morning, Luke. I was going to call you this morning. How did your horse do last night?”
“She’s gonna be okay. It was a tough delivery, but she managed. Her foal is real fine. You have to come see her.”
“I will. You must be relieved.”
“Surely am, but I think the mare might’ve struggled less than you did last night. I heard you had it rough after I left Kickin’.”
“Oh,” she said, her shoulders slumping. She wasn’t thrilled she’d been the topic of discussion between the two brothers. Logan must have spilled all the beans with glee. “I see your brother told you I didn’t handle the Number Three well.”
Luke’s face twisted with self-recrimination. “I should have never brought you there.”
“Oh, no. It’s not your fault. I should’ve known better. This has been a trying week for me, coming back here and dealing with all the changes in my life. Next time I’ll do better.”
“Next time? Honey, if you think I’m taking you back anytime soon—”
“I’m going back, Luke. One day.”
His shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug. “I’m just grateful that Logan was there to help you.”
“Yes, your brother is my knight in shining armor,” she grumbled quietly.
Luke threw his head back and laughed. Then she found humor in it, too, and laughed along with him. He took her arm and steered her out the front door. They strode along the length of the veranda and stood with the morning light to their backs as late spring sunshine warmed the air on a blue-sky day. Luke looked left then right, as if making sure they were alone. Whatever was on his mind today, he wanted a private conversation.
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