Choices

by Federici, Teresa

  He wondered what kind of idjit would let this one go. He glanced down at her and saw a thin band of creamy skin where her shirt had pulled up and his stomach clenched again.

  “Well, it’s beautiful. Thank you for having me. I’m just going to get this luggage put in the truck.” Abby had to get out. She had to get away from him, into the cold outside, then maybe her rationale would come back. Logan reached down to grab one of her suitcases that had fallen to the ground.

  “No!” Abby yelled. Logan stopped in mid-bend, turning his head to look at her, a coal black eyebrow raised in question.

  She blushed. She hadn’t blushed since the first night she and Steve had made love with the lights on.

  “I mean, I can get them. Don’t worry about it. I’ll just meet you out front.” With that, she gathered the suitcases on the ground and practically ran out the door he held open for her.

  “That was smooth, Romeo.” Kassey quipped from behind him.

  “I wasn’t trying to be smooth. Oh and since when are we rude to paying customers? What got into you?” Logan turned to look at her, his hands on his hips. Kassey dropped her eyes to the desk, fooled around with some papers there, trying to look contrite but not really making it.

  “I don’t like her type.”

  “And what is her type? She seems pretty nice to me. I really liked her come back with the nail thing. She put you in your place.” He snickered.

  “Oh shut up. You just like her, period.”

  Logan thought about that for a second. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, that was true. She was a guest, though, and just because she was alone here, which was a little unusual, she was off-limits.

  “Well, that’s neither here nor there. Try to be gracious from now on, okay?”

  Kassey nodded, and went back to her work. Logan grabbed his work jacket from the coat stand at his desk and went out the door. She was already in her SUV, engine idling, waiting on him. He wondered again what would bring someone out here alone, and wondered briefly how long it had been since her divorce was final. She was hurting from it still; her tired, shadowed eyes told him that. Not that it mattered, he told himself, she was one of his guests and he didn’t involve himself with his guests beyond the friendly hello’s and how-do-you-do’s. He climbed into his truck and started it, then swung it around in a tight U-turn and pointed it down the track that led to the cabin.

  Abby followed Logan in his truck, going slow on the dirt road that was now covered with a good 6 inches of snow. She thought about her reaction to him, and decided that it was road weariness, coupled with the state of her life. She had been around plenty of good-looking men, hell, it was almost a pre-requisite to being a surgeon, and never felt that way about any of them. Sure she had flirted with most of them, it was like an unspoken rule among surgeons wives to flirt at gatherings, but she had never been interested. She might as well have been back in high school, drooling over the star quarterback.

  She considered herself sophisticated, almost jaded, when it came to men. Her reaction to him was out of character. Sure, he was gorgeous. Tall, dark, and handsome; every woman’s dream guy. Why had she almost thrown herself into his arms? Granted, she hadn’t had sex for almost 6 months before the marriage ended, and it had been almost a year since then. Maybe she was just horny. Jeez, here we go again with the high school attitude.

  She needed to stop thinking about him and pay attention to the road. It was snowing and she was on an unfamiliar road. The Range Rover had all-wheel drive, but she would still run right into the back of him if she didn’t get her head out of the clouds. She looked straight out the windshield, watching the snow fall gently, coating the evergreens, covering the rocks that ran along the edges of the stream next to the road. It was truly beautiful up here, so different from the refined beauty of New England. Out here, a person could get in touch with themselves, without all the distractions back East. That was why she came out here, not to moon over the hot cowboy that owned her temporary home.

  Up ahead, Logan’s truck had come to a stop in front of the log cabin, a lovely two-story farmhouse with a full wraparound porch, and two dormers’ above. The lights had already been turned on, and the chimney was already puffing out smoke. She stopped her truck and just stared at it. She seemed to be doing a lot of staring since she had gotten back into Montana. It was perfect. As was the man that had gotten out of his truck and stood in from of the cabin, waiting on her.

  She put her truck in park, and got out, going around to the back to raise the hatch to get her luggage out. Logan came around to where she was standing.

  “This time, I insist.” he said, reaching around her to grab her two suitcases. His arm brushed against her, and Abby shivered again. Even through clothes, he could send shivers up and down her spine!. This could be a problem if she didn’t get her head on straight. Abby grabbed her other two bags, and followed him through the snow and up the front steps to the front door. They stood there for a second, and Abby was aware of his height, and how close he was to her.

  “You have the key, Mrs. Stanford.”

  “Oh, God, your right. And it’s Abby; please don’t call me Mrs. Stanford.” She said a little desperately, digging through her purse to where she had thrown the key. God, what was wrong with her? She hated the way he said “Mrs. Stanford”; it was like she didn’t want to be reminded that she had once been married all of a sudden. She turned to open the door, and Logan frowned at the back of her head. How bad had her ex-husband hurt her that she didn’t want to be referred to as a “Mrs.”?

  She got the door open, and Logan followed her inside, and put her bags on the staircase. She followed suit and placed the key on the table that sat next to the front door.

  She stood looking around; the feeling that this was a perfect place to think about what direction her life was going to go in was overwhelming. It just felt right. The front door opened into a great room, with the eat-in kitchen on the right and the living room on the left. The walls were all log, the furniture in the living room looked cozy and comfortable. A wall of windows framed the fireplace that had a cheery fire already going in it, and they looked over the stream that ran alongside the cabin.

  “There’s a bedroom in the back with a bathroom, and upstairs is a loft with pool table and another bedroom and bath. The bedroom upstairs looks out over the Yellowstone River and Crazy Mountains. It’s my favorite. Um, I have a cell tower on the property, so you can get a signal, and you can access the internet if you need to. Like Kassey said, we do furnish extra towels and there are all the utensils you need in the kitchen, including coffee and some staples, you supply the real food. There’s a Wal-Mart in Bozeman, plus other grocery stores, and there are some in Livingston. Snow should stop tonight.” Logan stopped, feeling completely self-conscious.

  He was proud of his ranch, and this little cabin that he had designed himself and decorated, but he felt completely inadequate with her standing there, looking around. She should be at the Ritz, not some back-water cattle ranch an hour from civilization. The feeling was completely foreign to him, a naturally self-confidant man.

  Abby sensed a change in him, and turned to look at him. He seemed uncomfortable, which was not something she would have expected from him, even in the hour she had known him. He seemed like one of those guys who knew he could accomplish whatever he chose, and he would be right. She didn’t get the arrogant vibe from him, and that was one vibe she knew, but he just seemed competent.

  “This place is fantastic, and I will be very comfortable here. I love it.”, she said, trying to make him more comfortable.

  “Well, pardon me saying so, but you just don’t seem to fit.”

  Abby shrugged and rolled her eyes, wondering if she had the word “snob” written on her forehead.

  “Look, your receptionist already thinks I’m some princess from back East and couldn’t handle taking out my own garbage. Your manager also thinks I’m some high society idjit. Yeah, I have nice clot
hes, although a little lacking for the weather, and I drive a nice SUV. You know what? I was raised in White Fish, on a cattle ranch, for Christ’s sake. I know how to take care of myself. I swear, I might not need to stay at the Ritz, but I sure as hell would’ve had a better reception than this!” Abby said, stalking into the kitchen side of the great room.

  Logan’s head snapped up at her words, and he followed her into the kitchen. Now he was really intrigued. Whitefish? Cattle ranch? Talk about peeling an onion!

  She was at the sink, filling a coffee pot with water.

  “Look, I’m sorry about Kassey and Ben, and I’m sorry about what I said. We get middle-class families out here, not people—“, he cut off what he was about to say when she swung around, coffee carafe in hand.

  “Don’t you dare say ‘people like me’. I will throw this water all over you, and that is not the way to start out a vacation.”

  Logan threw his hands up in surrender. Abby stood there, thinking that this was surely the strangest situation she had ever been in, and she started to laugh.

  “Look, Mr. MacKinnon-“

  “Oh, no, if you can insist that I call you Abby and then stand there and threaten to throw ice cold water on me, the least you can do is call me Logan.” he said, lowering his hands and grinning.

  Abby’s stomach did a lazy roll over that grin, and she turned away from him. His eyes were mesmerizing, a perfect gray, no trace of blue or black in them, and they lit up when he smiled.

  “Well, Logan, I appreciate all the info, and please, try to think of me as a middle-class woman out here alone, trying to figure out her life.” Crap, why did she say that?

  Logan stared at her, her long, wavy hair catching glints of the fire from across the room, turning it into a molten waterfall that draped over her shoulders. Better for his peace of mind to think about her with five kids and a husband than to think of her like that!

  “I guess I’m gonna go now, let you get settled in. It’s going on 6 o’clock, so I’ll send someone over here with some food for tonight. The roads will probably be bad to get out to the interstate, and I know you must be tired. I’ll see myself out.”

  Abby waited until she heard the click of the front door shutting, then turned around and faced out into the great room. What possessed her to say that? Think of me as a woman out here alone? To figure out my life? That would cause some problems. Well, it would cause problems for her. She was sure he was married, maybe even to that woman back in the office. She didn’t noticed a ring on his finger but men who were ranchers tended to not wear wedding rings, as they had a tendency to get caught on machines and fences. That was how she needed to think about him, as being married. With kids. Lots and lots of kids. All running pell-mell and screaming for Daddy.

  She turned around and dug for coffee, finally found it, and put on a pot of coffee. She still had her inadequate coat on, but walked out onto the front of the porch. It was already dark, had been for a while or so, but the snow falling was peaceful. It had a dampening effect on sound so she felt that she was the only one in the universe, with no outside noises to break into her solitude. Tomorrow she would worry about her life. Tonight she would just enjoy the Montana quiet and a hot bath and relax. No more thoughts of hot cowboy.

  Chapter Two

  So much for no thoughts about hot cowboy. Abby woke up the next morning, buried under the thick quilt, and lay there. Her dreams had been filled with Logan. Logan riding a horse, reaching down to pull her up; Logan swimming in a lake the color of his eyes, teasing her to jump in with him; Logan reclining in front of the fire, his hand raised up to her, inviting her to lay down next to him. And what happened when she had taken his hand and lay down next to him. She hadn’t thought her imagination was that productive.

  She pushed herself up and rolled off the bed, clad in a flannel night shirt and socks. She walked to the window and opened the shutters, bright sunlight pouring in. She chose the upstairs bedroom, and unpacked last night, not wanting to mess with it this morning. The view that greeted her was amazing. Off in the distance, the silver ribbon of the Yellowstone snaked through his land, and the jagged peaks of the Crazy Mountains stood stark against the bright morning. The dots of color in the white pastures were most likely his cattle, brought down for the winter from the high summer pastures.

  She turned away, excited to explore. All she did done last night was unpack, take a long bath, and eat the meal that a silent ranch hand brought over. It had been one of the two she had seen when she first got there, the Small One, as she liked to think of him. She opened the door to his tentative knock, and he just stood there, the food on a plate extended in front of him. Abby reached out and took it, said Thank you, and he just turned around and got into his truck and left. Strange. She was becoming accustomed to the reaction she was getting from people here at LM Ranch.

  The meal turned out to be good old fashioned stew in thick gravy, with biscuits piled up on the side. She had eaten it with great gusto, it having been a long time since she had eaten comfort food like that.

  Now, she ran downstairs, and put on a pot of coffee, then went to the back of the cabin. Another bedroom and bath lay along the hall, including a little alcove with a built in desk and internet hook-up. She looked into the bedroom, and saw it had a little deck through a set of French doors. The downstairs bathroom was just like the one upstairs, with a soaker tub and separate shower. All in all a very comfy and surprisingly luxurious cabin. The furnishings were not high-end, but very stylish, and the flooring was real hardwood, not laminate.

  Abby got a coffee cup out of the cupboard, and poured a cup. She drank it black, needing no extras. She had always felt like a freak at Starbucks, surrounded by people ordering half-caff, non-fat, something or other, and then she would get up to the front and order coffee, black. People stared. She opened cupboards, familiarizing herself with what each one held, then opened the refrigerator. Nothing in there but leftovers from last night. She grabbed two biscuits and tossed them into the toaster oven. They would serve for breakfast, until she could get into town and pick some stuff up. She thought about picking up some heavy duty clothes, also. The ranch offered riding and hiking, but other than her hiking boots, she didn’t have a good winter coat other than her ski parka, and her jeans were designer, not meant for Montana snow.

  She stood at the counter, sipping her coffee, and felt some stress leave her. She hadn’t thought about Steve in almost 15 hours, and her dreams sure had nothing to do with him. Thinking about that, she moved to the great room, and turned on the gas logs. She moved to sit on the floor in front of the hearth, immediately thought about her dream from last night, and switched to the deep, comfy chair and ottoman.

  She looked out over the stream in back, and tried to think about nothing. Unfortunately, her mind was not meant for idleness. Her thoughts ranged from her cheating, conniving ex-husband to Logan McKinnon, who she barely knew and found almost unbearably attractive. Steve was who she needed to forget, her first, and so far only, love, who had taken her trust and love and stomped them into the ground. She felt a brief stab of pain when she remembered how it felt to find out about his mistress, when the woman had the temerity to show up at the townhouse on Beacon Hill looking for him.

  From there on the next year was a blur of lawyers, accusations, and pain. She pressed a hand to her heart, as if she could stop the ache there from spreading, but it was no good. She wasn’t the kind of woman to recover quickly from betrayal from the man she had loved, but she wasn’t a quitter. She would get her life back, maybe go home to White Fish, open up a business, or just stay on the ranch and help her parents.

  Knowing she would spend more reflective moments over the next few weeks, and not solve all her problems in one shot, she got up from the chair and decided to get dressed and go to town, get groceries, maybe pick up some lunch. Leave the thinking for later. Maybe she would run into Logan.

  Kassey watched as Abby drove past the ranch house, on her way into town. She had
stopped in to get direction to Wal-Mart and Kassey’s opinion of the woman had gone up a notch. She couldn’t be too snobby if she was willing to go to Wally World.

  “You can come out now Logan.” Kassey called out.

  A door opened behind her, the one that led to the main house, and Logan stepped out. He walked into the office and noticed Ben and Jake lounging on the sofa.

  “Don’t ya’ll have some work to do?” Logan asked, frowning at them.

  “Just stopped in to see how our guest is doing.” Ben replied, unfolding his tall frame from the sofa. He was as tall as Logan, but looked completely the opposite. He had blonde hair the sun had bleached platinum and his blue eyes were like chips of ice that only warmed up when he smiled, which he did often. Ben found humor in every situation. He was built like a bear, but didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. His face resembled that of a professional boxer, complete with crooked nose. He and Kassey were married, and had come to work on the ranch with Logan when he had first bought it 10 years ago, when a man could still afford to buy a working ranch in Montana.

  “Kinda pretty guest, wouldn’t you say Jake?” Ben asked, looking down at the skinny kid still sitting on the sofa. Jake blushed. Ben laughed and reached down to punch him in the arm.

  “Well, let’s have a talk about the guest, ok?” Logan said as he sat down at his desk. He had to get out of the office soon, and run some fences, anything to get outside, but first he needed to put his employees in their place. Hell, they were more like family than anything.

  “First off, can we not refer to her as ‘the likes of you’ anymore? And try to treat her with some respect, instead of thinking she’s a hopeless princess?” Logan started out, first looking at Ben then at Kassey.

  Ben had the good grace to look at his toes, and Kassey found something interesting in a corner to look at.