Cowboy On Her Doorstep (Montgomery Brothers Book 1)

by Pam Mantovani

  Then she took in the fierce set of his features, the waves of tension that rolled across the yard to tug at her heart. She said nothing, not even when she felt the heat of his body as he followed her up the walk, and she unlocked the front door. As much as she didn’t want to have this conversation inside the house where they risked Marissa waking, she couldn’t very well stand outside where neighbors would see and possibly hear what they had to say to one another.

  “It’s okay,” she said to the young woman rising from the sofa, color draining from her oval face when Logan’s boots echoed on the bare floor. “Audra.” Kendall kept her voice soft and easy, as if she brought a man home every other night. “This is a friend of mine, Logan Montgomery.”

  She half turned to gesture toward him, only to realize he’d moved across the room, ignoring them. From her periphery she saw Audra let an old fear hurry her away. The sound of the back door closing echoed through the quiet room. Kendall couldn’t calm her friend’s unease now. Later, they’d talk. For the moment, all of Kendall’s attention was focused on Logan’s face as he hunkered down to stare at a series of pictures of Marissa on the small bookcase.

  That hard line of his jaw relaxed, and his throat worked once, as if trying to clear the emotion that had lodged there. Oh, and the emotion was in his eyes, blazing with discovery and longing. On one bent knee, his hand fisted as if to stop from reaching out to stroke a finger over the milk chocolate curls. What she saw both pleased and frightened her.

  “She looks like you,” he whispered.

  “Funny, when I look at her, I see you.” He lowered his head, drew in several ragged breaths that seemed to mirror the fearful pounding of her heart. “She’s like you in so many ways. She’s always full of questions. Since moving back here, she’s changed from wanting to be a fairy princess to a cowgirl riding in the rodeo. She has a bad habit of leaving her toys scattered all over her room, but I usually don’t say much to her. I don’t want her memories to be of me spending all my time cleaning or arguing with her about the way her room looks.”

  Logan stood abruptly, turned to face her. She nearly took a step in defense. “I don’t want a damn report. I want to see her.”

  “Yes, well.” Kendall resisted rubbing her damp palms on her trousers. “It’s late, Marissa’s asleep, and I’ve just come off a ten-hour shift.” She glanced around, remembered her friend had slipped out of the house. No chance of a buffer or diversion from this conversation.

  “I don’t expect you to wake her up,” he said, “but, Kendall, I want to see her as soon as possible. I’ve already lost so much time with her.”

  “I never said I’d keep you from her.” Though it would burn a hole in her heart each and every time she saw them together, she knew she had no hope of keeping them apart. The woman in Kendall, who had given her heart in the first place, raced to overtake the mother who would make any and every sacrifice necessary to defend her daughter’s heart against the pain of losing love. “I’m saying you’re going to have to wait a little longer.”

  Logan scrubbed hands over his face. He looked so tired, from a kind of fatigue that had dogged him longer than the two days he’d been home. She’d often dealt with that kind of exhaustion, one that sprang from emotional more than physical weariness.

  “You mean more than just seeing her tonight, or even tomorrow,” he said, with the instinctive understanding they’d once shared. “You mean waiting to tell her that I’m her father.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you punishing me because I left? Because I’ve been away so long?”

  “No. I’m protecting my daughter.”

  “Our daughter.” For a second, an instant, her heart quivered at the fierce narrowing of his gaze. “Our daughter, Kendall. I realize that you’ve had her alone for more than four years, but that’s in the past now.”

  “Is it? You haven’t been home in five years, Logan. And you never once contacted me. Why should I think that’s going to change? Just because you’re here now doesn’t mean you’ll stay.”

  He opened his mouth, as if about to say something, and then closed it with an almost audible snap of his jaw.

  With a sigh she shoved a hand through her hair. “I need to lock this up.” She gestured to the gun in the holster at her waist. “I’ll be right back.”

  She walked down the hall to her small bedroom. With the routine of seven months on the job, she loosened the belt, secured the gun in the locked box on the top shelf of her closet, and shut the door. She turned with every intention of peeking in on Marissa. Her shoulders jerked along with her heart.

  Logan stood in the doorway of her bedroom.

  Logan. Bedroom. There were two words that so did not need to be together in any sentence. Not in any way, shape, or form in her mind. Still, images and sensations from the past knocked on the walls of her heart. Five years of suppressed longing were jumping with joy at the thought of being set free.

  “Are you ashamed that I’m her father?”

  “What?” Sheer shock replaced misgivings. “No, of course not. Oh, Logan, how could I be ashamed when you gave me the most precious thing in my life?” Driven by a force stronger than her misgivings, she walked to him, gently wrapped her arms around him.

  His arms immediately came around her waist, held her close.

  Five years ago, she would never have been so bold. Five years ago, she’d known the emptiness that came with little or no physical affection. Five years ago, she’d been a young girl with romantic dreams. Since then, she’d yearned and longed for every touch, caress, and press of body she’d shared with Logan that one night. Instead of dwelling or giving in to the heartache of the loss, she’d poured all that emotion onto her daughter. She’d be damned if Marissa ever doubted her mother’s love the way she’d doubted her own father’s feelings.

  “I have a lot of regrets in my life,” she whispered, “but being with you that night has never been one of them.”

  “I want to do what’s right.”

  “You always did. Even when it meant ignoring what you wanted.”

  He stepped back, and her empty arms dropped to her sides. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Keep your voice down, you’ll wake Marissa.” She paused a second. “You wanted to leave right out of high school.”

  “I wanted Dad and Carter to listen to my idea about training horses for barrel racing,” he corrected and scrubbed his hands down his face. “I thought they’d eventually get used to the idea and come around to my way of thinking. Then Mom got sick.”

  “And you left.”

  “It was a little more complicated than that, but for now, we’ll just leave it at yes, I left.” He turned and walked away.

  “Do you see that?” Kendall demanded when she followed him out of the bedroom. He paced the living room, the movement so familiar to her. “Do you see how you walk away whenever you don’t want to face something?”

  “I left your bedroom.” She heard the grind of his teeth in every word and felt the irrational need to push at him.

  “It’s more than that. You walked away from memories.”

  His gaze narrowed as it stayed focused on her. She saw a glimpse of the man, the solider he’d become during his absence. “Trust me, Kendall, you don’t want me having memories while I’m standing this close to you and your bedroom.”

  Kendall sucked in a surprised breath. The dark look in his gaze was so compelling that her hand instinctively went to her hip. That’s when she realized it wasn’t a physical threat she saw, but need. And that was more dangerous than if he’d made a move toward her. She had the split-second notion that if she stepped toward him they’d be locked and rolling on the floor of her living room the way they once had in his truck bed.

  She inhaled two more trembling breaths before she could speak. “Logan, I know bette
r than anyone how your mother’s death changed you. I also know how it feels to be a young child desperate for a father’s love.”

  “Then you should understand why I want to see her, to know her.”

  “For how long? Until you get tired of the responsibility that never lets up? Until you decide you’ve had enough of playing daddy and decide to leave?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Maybe not. I’m tired, and when I am, I tend to be irritable. You have no idea how it feels to be so exhausted and know you have no one to depend on, no one to give you five minutes of rest or quiet.” She dragged hands through her hair, resisted the urge to pull at the ends. “Still, I would do it all over again without hesitation.” Her heart pinched before she dropped her hands to her side and looked into his beautiful green eyes.

  “Logan, you asked me why I never contacted you. Let me ask you the same.” She encouraged a new slice of hurt to coat her words. “Did you ever think about how I felt when I found out the day after we made love that you’d left? Then, as time went on and I still heard nothing from you, what else could I think but that you were glad to be rid of me?”

  Her throat choked on the emotion welling up inside of her, straining to break free. She took a half step back, torn between wishing and fearing he would reach for her. “What else could I think but that I was one more regret for you to leave behind?”

  “You should’ve known better, I could never think of you as a regret.”

  “It’s how it felt to me at the time.” And every day since, she wanted to add but kept silent. “You never said a word about leaving.”

  “I planned to tell you that night, that’s why I came by to see you. Hell, Kendall.” He scraped fingers through his short hair. “You surprised me. I never expected . . . damn it. You were the one who talked about leaving.”

  I would have stayed if you’d asked. It was foolish to think of what had never been, what would have been wrong for both of them. At that time.

  “It was all I could think of at the time,” she admitted. “Getting away from my father and what I saw as his betrayal.”

  And now? Her heart demanded. Now, when they’d both changed and grown? Now, when they’d seen what the world could bring, when they’d experienced disappointment and heartache, along with pleasure and joy? Tears burned for release, but with the same will that had helped her through all the hurt and loneliness, she refused to let them fall.

  “Did you get pregnant on purpose?”

  The question didn’t surprise her, but the tiny nick of pain did. She’d offered him her innocence, her love, and had all but demanded he accept both. “No, it was just a lovely side benefit.”

  “Was it hard?”

  She didn’t try to pretend he asked about the physical labor of giving birth to his child.

  “Sometimes.” More for something to do—and to give her a little distance—she moved to sit on the sofa. “Physically, I felt good. I worked two jobs until right before Marissa was born, so I had enough saved to get us past those first two months.”

  “You had no one to help you?”

  “I took advantage of all the free or reduced assistance I could get.”

  “Really? The Kendall Grant I knew never asked anyone for help.”

  “Where Marissa is concerned, there’s nothing I won’t do to make her life better.” Her mouth twisted in a bitter curve. “It seemed only fitting that I take charity money after my dad used my college fund to pay for his missionary trip.”

  “Did he know?”

  “I wrote him when Marissa was born, but he never wrote back. I told myself that it didn’t matter. But, a couple of times every year, I sent him a card along with some pictures of her.” She shrugged, as if she could dismiss years of hurt with the gesture. “It was stubborn of me, I guess.”

  “Determined,” he corrected. After a brief hesitation, he came over to sit at the opposite end of the sofa. “I’ve never met anyone as determined as you when you’ve made up your mind about something.”

  “Which is just a polite way of calling me stubborn.”

  She expected, had hoped for the flash of his smile, indicating they’d come to some sort of uneasy truce. Instead, he looked at her with the same intensity as he had during their first meeting today. “I guess that’s what worries me the most.” She didn’t ask why. “You’ve dug in your heels about not letting me spend time with her.”

  “I’ve dug in my heels about not telling her that you’re her father. Logan, try to see this from my viewpoint. If you spend time with her, she’s going to love you.”

  As Kendall had. As she was so terribly afraid she still did.

  “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

  “It is.” She saw the misery blazing in his eyes. “I don’t want her hurt.”

  “And how is spending time with her, with her loving me, going to do that?”

  The fact that he had to ask, that he didn’t have a clue, ripped at her. She sighed. “Did you hear what I said about how Marissa is always full of questions?” She waited until he gave her a hesitant nod. “If we tell her that you’re her father, I can guarantee that one of her first questions is going to be why you don’t live with us like the other daddies. How will you answer her?”

  “Is that what this is about? You want me to marry you?” he asked while his hands fisted on his knees.

  Kendall stood and paced around the room, using the movement to keep the hope from surfacing. How could he ask her that and not know what it would do to her? “You’re missing the point.”

  “No, it would work. I can support you.”

  “I don’t need your money.” The words fired like a gun, sharp and rapid. Her heart felt as if it were bleeding from the pain. “I’ve managed to provide for her without your help. You can’t buy her, Logan.”

  “Damn it, Kendall. How are we going to resolve this if you twist everything I say?”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but then admitted fear accounted for much of her reaction. “Money isn’t what Marissa needs.”

  “Right. She needs a father.”

  “One who is involved in her life.” The spurt of anger felt good as it washed away longings she had no business wishing he would ease. She would not, absolutely would not, depend on a man to complete her life. And if she had to yell until her throat was raw to get him to understand, it’s what she’d do. She’d always done what she had to without waiting for someone else to take care of her needs. She’d had little choice after all.

  “What are you going to do?” she demanded. “Breeze in, spend a few days with her, maybe buy her a few toys, and then leave again? It’s not enough. Time and attention are what she wants, what she needs.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to give her.” His words, his tone, the way he swept a hand through the air all conveyed his irritation and frustration.

  “For how long?”

  If she had to, she’d keep hammering home this point until it got through his thick skull. Just as she’d refused to hear his protests the night she’d seduced him. Now there was another type of innocence in jeopardy.

  “Just how much time are you willing to give, Logan? There were plenty of nights when I was so tired from a long day at work. But I still had dinner to make, baths to give, laundry to wash and dry and fold, all while trying to figure out which bill to pay this month.” Those long years of burden leaked out, fired the simmering embers of an angry resentment she hadn’t realized existed.

  “You’re not being fair. I could hardly be here to help you if I didn’t know.”

  “True enough, and I accept blame for not telling you. Hindsight makes it easier to see the mistakes. But don’t you dare come here after all this time, expect to spend a few days with her before you leave again, and not think about how it’s g
oing to hurt me to watch you go.”

  “Who said I was going anywhere?”

  Shocked by the question, Kendall fought against holding tight to the tiny sliver of a chance that he might actually stay. In that silence, she watched as Logan slowly rose to his feet. It took her only a second to realize he no longer looked at her.

  His eyes had gone wide while his body seemed to have gone attention-stiff, but she had the sudden, unarguable sensation that he hadn’t heard her shouted confession. And while there was small comfort in that knowledge, she felt her heart drop into her stomach an instant before she heard the voice.

  “Mamma?”

  Chapter Two

  “MAMMA.” MARISSA’S small feet slapped against the bare floor as she ran across the room. “Mamma.”

  A demand now, more insistent as she felt a small hand tug at the material of her uniform slacks. Kendall watched as Logan’s left hand closed into a tight fist. Oh, the look on his face was everything she’d hoped would be there when he first set eyes on his daughter. It was a look she knew she’d never, ever forget. It was a look that reminded her of his stunned realization that she’d been with no one before him.

  “Marissa,” he whispered with a soft reverence. Then he suddenly looked at Kendall. There was nothing calm in his expression, nor any frozen wonder. There was determination and insistence.

  Kendall’s heart faltered even as her spine stiffened. “No,” she whispered in answer to the silent demand.

  She turned and knelt, wrapped her arms around the sweet reassurance of her daughter and the stuffed blue dragon Marissa still slept with. Even as Kendall nuzzled her cheek against her daughter’s curls, she felt Marissa peek over her shoulder at Logan standing behind them.