Instead, she would be content and grateful for what they’d shared today. It would be best all-around if she simply took this memory of sitting with the circle of his arms—like all the other memories from today—and tuck it deep in her heart.
For today, it would be enough.
Chapter Nine
HE’D SAID SOMETHING wrong. Logan had no idea what, but something had changed. Kendall might still sit in the circle of his arms with her back snug against his chest but she’d put distance between them.
She was a far different person than he remembered. He supposed he’d kept her as a vulnerable young girl in his mind during his years away. While she retained a hint of that innocence, there was little doubt she’d matured into a desirable woman. As they’d made love he’d had no thoughts but of her, had wanted nothing more than to touch her, be touched by her. Be with her.
“You’re so quiet.” He leaned over to press his lips against her temple. “For a minute, I thought maybe you’d fallen asleep.”
“Are you fishing for a compliment, Logan?”
“No.” He kissed her again. “Well, maybe.”
She used her index finger to tap out a pattern on his thigh. An old habit he recalled that she used to combat nerves. “You’re the one with the experience. Maybe I should be the one doing the asking.”
Ah, he realized, she worried about the other women he’d been with. This was something he could deal with. “There’s no one who compares to you, Kendall.”
Her finger stilled. “Do you ever think about how one action, one decision, can change everything?”
“You mean like a defining moment?”
“Yes. For instance, how different do you think everything would be if you’d stayed here instead of joining the Army?”
“We’d be married.”
“Would we?”
Logan didn’t care for the hint of amusement he heard in her voice. “Of course we would. Once you told me about the baby . . . you would have told me, right?”
“Yes, I would have told you. But, Logan, I have to be honest and tell you that I’m not sure if I would have married you. I wouldn’t have wanted you to feel trapped.” Her finger again started tapping.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, how one decision can change everything. Like that day all those years ago in the convenience store,” she went on before he could comment. “If I hadn’t kept whining that I was hot and thirsty, my mother probably wouldn’t have stopped. We would have gone straight home. Instead she hurried me inside the store to make me happy. And we stumbled into the middle of a robbery and ended up being held as hostages when the police were alerted.”
“Did you ever read the official reports?”
She smiled a little. He knew her well enough to know she’d needed to investigate. “Yes, I did. After I came back here, I asked Sheriff Owens to let me read them. My father had been right, it was a ricochet bullet from a police gun that killed my mother.”
“That’s why he never approved of your determination to be a police officer.”
“He blamed them and didn’t understand that I wanted to become an officer and try to make sure something like that never happened again.” She shivered, and his arms tightened around her. “And yet, yesterday, I wasn’t able to help Robbie.”
“Kendall, there’s no way you could have anticipated what Lloyd Miller would do. By staying with Robbie, you kept him alive long enough to get him to the hospital where he has a chance.”
Images of Robbie bleeding onto the ground layered over old images of her mother, her face pale as she stared up at Kendall. As she took her last breath.
“Sheriff Owens will find Miller.” Logan pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re a good cop. Don’t let this one decision make you doubt that.”
“Still, last night after you went to bed, while I cleaned up the kitchen,”—she felt his body jerk a little, wondered why that casual reminder would have such an effect—“I thought about everything that could have gone wrong yesterday. Any day really. Even if I wasn’t a cop, things can go wrong.” She turned to face him.
“This morning, I made an appointment to see Harley Barker. I’m going to have him write up something to say if anything happens to me, you’re to have complete custody of Marissa.”
“Kendall.” He pressed his forehead against hers.
“I think I should tell her. Marissa, that is.” Tears curtained her brown eyes. “She shouldn’t learn the truth at a time like that.”
“No, she shouldn’t.”
His hand moved from her face to curl around the back of her neck, to urge her close for a kiss, drawing it out soft and sweet. “I would like to be with you when you tell her, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, you should be there.”
“Later then,” he whispered, kissing her. “We’ll tell her later.”
“But—”
“Later. Now, for as long as we can today, let it be just you and me.”
Logan lifted his head as Kendall struggled to balance a mother’s nature with a woman’s longing. If she’d learned nothing else yesterday, it was that each day is precious and should be enjoyed in whatever way possible. There would be plenty of days to review the events of yesterday, to question and debate actions. It would make little difference to Marissa if they waited another day to tell her the truth. And it would make all the difference in the world to Kendall. She wanted this time with Logan. She smiled at him and leaned forward for another kiss.
“You and me. For as long as we can.”
WITH HER HEAD pillowed on Logan’s chest, Kendall closed her eyes and relaxed. She felt the warmth of his skin pressed against hers, the security of his arms wrapped around her. The fire he’d started earlier had burned down to more embers than flame, and the sun had begun to slide toward the horizon. Before long, they’d have to pack up and begin the ride back to the ranch.
How could she regret anything about today? They’d talked with much of the same ease and freedom as they’d once enjoyed. He’d accepted, understood, her fear and uncertainty about yesterday’s events. Even more, he’d supported her choices, believed she’d done what was right and best. What woman didn’t want the man she loved to accept and respect her?
Then there was the love they’d shared, if only physically on his part. He’d been so gentle, so loving. She felt a proud smile bloom on her lips. He’d also been very, very satisfied. Even before his move to protect her, she’d known he’d been with other women in the years they’d been apart. She also believed that no matter what happened in the future, he would not be able to forget her and this day.
So she would shove aside thoughts of the future. For as long as they had, she would enjoy what they’d found together.
“I guess we should think about starting back,” Logan murmured, and again she felt that proud smile curve her lips at the sleepy, sated, quality to his voice.
“I suppose.” Kendall stretched, enjoying each inch of where her skin slid along his, luxuriating in the hard contours that fit so well with her softer ones. Her hand coasted along the ridged planes of his stomach, her fingertips teasing as they tapped their way toward his groin.
His hand clamped down on hers. “Kendall,” he growled in warning before he let out a long sighing breath. “God help me, I had no idea you would be so . . . demanding.” His lips brushed her temple even as his fingers closed tighter to stop her from traveling further.
“I have years to make up for,” she said, laughing.
“At any other time, I’d love to take you up on your offer. But I think I’ve got a boulder trying to tunnel into my hip.”
They sat up, and when Kendall glanced over her shoulder, the teasing comment she planned to toss his way vanished. She’d forgotten. Yes, at one point the realization that he’d been shot, that he
could have been lost to her before they found each other again, had nearly undone her. But Logan, his voice calm and his hands gentle, had reminded her that he was here now. At the time it had been enough. Her hand trembled as it pressed to the rolling sickness in her stomach.
Her fingers itched to touch, not to excite but to reassure. The skin was puckered with evidence of his wound, pink with time. She wanted to lean forward and run her lips over the jagged line, feel the reminder that despite the injury he sat here with her now.
“Will you tell me?” she asked, her hand gently tracing the scar.
“You don’t want to hear about that now.”
She moved her hand away and reached for his discarded shirt, slipped it on, began to work the buttons. It bolstered her to see that her hands were steady. “Will you tell me?” she repeated, promising herself this would be the last time she asked.
“It’s pretty typical,” he began after a pause long enough that she’d been about to rise. “We were on patrol, following a lead to locate an insurgent stronghold. One of the locals gave us information, guided us part of the way.” He blew out a breath.
“We were to gather intel, nothing more. No engagement. Only, someone forgot to inform the locals about that order.” He looked away, stared off into the distance. Kendall watched his profile, knowing that she didn’t need to see his features to guess some of what must be coming.
“I pulled rear duty, keeping an eye out for suspicious movements. My buddy Dave had the lead.” He looked back at her. “You would have loved Dave. He was actually stationed with the Guard. It’s how he paid for college. Back home, in Chicago, he was a teacher at a school in a low-income district. He used to tease me and say he was going to arrange a field trip to bring some kids to the ranch so they could see the horses. He’s the one who started calling me Cowboy.”
She heard the ease and bond of friendship in his voice. “You’re right, I would have liked him.”
Logan was silent a minute, again looking off into the distance. “We were ten days away from deploying home. I’d heard about the old man. Dave still pushed me to ask for medical leave, but I didn’t see the point. He told me he’d use any excuse possible to get home sooner and hold the baby boy he’d never seen except in pictures and videos.”
Kendall moved on instinct. She scooted over, and Logan wrapped his arms around her. He lowered his face into her hair a minute, his breath hot and ragged against her scalp, before he shifted so his cheek rested on top of her head.
“Dave called a halt to the search when we came upon this wide area between a couple of huts where a bunch of kids were kicking a soccer ball.”
“He stopped the patrol to watch them,” she said.
“He stopped because some kid had kicked the ball in his direction,” Logan corrected. “He bent down to gather up the ball and toss it back at the kids. Only when he straightened, they’d all disappeared. He stood there, with that stupid ball in his hand, looking around when the first shots rang out.”
She moaned a little, and Logan’s arms tightened like steel bands around her.
“Everyone was screaming, but Dave just stood there, a puzzled expression on his face. I watched him glance down as the blood spread over his stomach. The ball slipped from his fingertips with the same agonizing slowness as he dropped to the ground.”
He began to rock a little. “Orders were being shouted, sand was flying from bullets hitting the ground, nicking a building. When I saw one hit Dave in the leg, I moved.” Kendall eased out of his embrace and turned so she could face him. “I couldn’t just let him lay there, an open target for anyone to empty their clip into as if he was nothing more than target practice.”
She couldn’t stop the wince at the harsh image he presented. Then she lifted both hands to cup his cheeks. She wondered if he even knew there were tears blurring the green of his eyes. Later, she’d have to think about the depth of a friendship that would bring this strong, vibrant man to tears.
“No, of course you couldn’t.” She leaned in, pressed her lips to his and then to both cheeks.
“I needed both hands, so I dropped my weapon. I was hit almost immediately when I began dragging him away.” She bit down on her bottom lip to hold back the moan. “But I managed to get us both behind a building. I screamed for a medic, but there was so much shooting going on that no one could hear. I tried to put pressure on his wound, but nothing helped. Finally, Dave gripped my arm. I had no choice but to look down at him. God, Kendall, I’ll never forget that look on his face. I’ve had nightmares,” he admitted, scraping his hands down his face.
“His last words were for me to go home before it was too late.” Logan lowered his hands and stared at her. She glimpsed a reflection of the horrors he saw in his sleep when his guard was down.
“Only I was too late. Too late to make peace with Dad, too late to be here for Carter because I decided to travel with Dave’s body and spend a few days with his widow. I lied to her,” he added with a soft murmur. “When she asked, I couldn’t very well tell her that Dave’s last words were an order for me to come home after I finished my tour.”
“You’re not the kind of man who could,” Kendall agreed, trying not to picture a scene she feared ever facing.
“So I made up something about Dave telling me how much he’d always loved her, how he apologized for missing out on being a father to their son, a husband for her.” Logan looked down at her. “It makes me think of how much I’ve missed with Marissa. And you. I’m sorry, Kendall.”
Her throat was thick with tears. What good would it do to agree with him? It would change nothing. And, as she’d once told him, it was always easier to look back and see where another decision should have been made, how that decision would change so much. She almost wished she hadn’t pressed for him to tell her. It was bad enough to know he’d been injured. Now, if he returned overseas, those clear images—that danger—would be foremost in her mind on a daily basis.
How could she find the right words to ease the pain of a past without asking for a promise for the future? “Logan, I’m proud that you’re the kind of man who took the time to be with your friend’s wife, that you made sure she knew her husband didn’t die alone. I’m proud that you’re the kind of man who came here to be with your brother, even after there was nothing left to do for your father. You have nothing to apologize for.”
He nodded but said nothing, just eased her back into his arms where they both sat in silence.
A short time later, they began preparing for the ride back to the ranch. While Logan saddled the horses, Kendall packed up everything else. As she folded the blanket, she gazed over the stretch of land where so much had transpired today. Would there ever be a day when she would again stand here with Logan, perhaps in a house they shared, with the children they raised together?
She could picture it so clearly in her mind. Her heart encouraged her to believe it possible, but the streak of practicality that had been essential for her survival the past five years warned her not to get her hopes up too high. After all, one day, however amazing it had been, did not guarantee they wanted the same future.
Then she turned toward the horses. Logan stood there, looking adorably awkward. Holding a small clutch of wildflowers. She had no defense against the man she loved offering her a bouquet of purple Fireweed and white Bear Grass.
“They’ll probably wilt before we get back to the house,” he said.
“Maybe,” she agreed. But in her heart they would forever bloom and bring pleasure. She walked to him, pressed her lips softly to his. “But I’m going to enjoy them.” And us, she silently added. “For as long as I can.”
Chapter Ten
“I APPRECIATE YOU coming out here.” Kendall set down two mugs of coffee on the kitchen table.
“No problem,” Sheriff Owens replied, taking a hot swallow. “In fact, I th
ink it’s a good idea for you to spend a couple more days out here. Give everyone in town time to settle a little.”
Everyone but her. She felt at loose ends. She’d done some cleaning this morning, but, despite the fact that two men had been living here for the past several weeks, the house hadn’t needed much. She didn’t know how to handle this freedom that everyone kept insisting would be good for her, to be without a dozen different chores or responsibilities. There may have been times, numerous times, when she’d wished for this kind of luxury, but she was anxious to get back to work, back to the normal routine of her life.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t enjoyed her time with Logan. Her cheeks heated with thoughts and images of just how much, and how often, they’d enjoyed one another in so short a time.
It thrilled Kendall to know Logan wanted her. She luxuriated in his attention, craved his touch and taste, felt powerful with the knowledge that she could and did please him. She desperately wanted to believe there was more to their relationship than this profound need they’d uncovered and acted on.
“I hear there’s been little change in Robbie’s condition.”
Sheriff Owens nodded, taking another swallow of coffee. “Mr. Patterson hasn’t left the hospital. Some of the ladies from your daddy’s church have been taking him food, sitting with him.”
Kendall didn’t bother to correct him that it was no longer her father’s church. Jonathan Grant had been head of that church for more than twenty years; it was going to take more than the four since he’d left to go on a missionary trip for people to think of it differently.
“The search at Miller’s place didn’t turn up anything to give you an idea of where he could have gone?”
“We’re following a few leads.”
Kendall hated this feeling of being excluded. She knew of course there was no way she could have participated in the search of Lloyd Miller’s place, just as she understood it was wrong to expect Sheriff Owens to give her any details of the search. It was one more example of how her life had upended in the last forty-eight hours. She missed the camaraderie of her fellow officers, missed the long shifts that left her with aching feet. She even missed Rhonda’s relentless teasing.
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