Issued to the Bride One Marine (Brides of Chance Creek Book 4)

by Cora Seton

“Nice—I’ll put that on your wedding cake,” Jack said.

  “No, wait. We can work with that,” Connor said slowly. “You’re right; Lena likes to think for herself and do things for herself, too. She likes to be in charge.”

  “She’s made that clear,” Brian said ruefully.

  “Maybe… maybe you’re going at this all wrong,” Connor said. “Hold up and listen,” he added when Logan bristled. “You’re always trying to help Lena, and she’s always getting pissed off. Maybe you’re the one who needs to ask for help. And then let her take charge and help you.”

  Hell.

  That wasn’t the way a man was supposed to do things.

  Everything inside Logan rebelled at the thought. “I just said we’re similar. I don’t like interference. And I don’t like to be bossed around,” he said.

  “Suck it up, Buttercup,” Jack said, laughing on-screen. “Time for the big man to play it small for once.”

  “It’s going to be your turn next,” Logan told him, stung.

  “I’m already getting the lay of the land,” Jack assured him.

  It was Logan’s turn to laugh. “How’s that going for you? Got a visual on the maze yet?” On his way back to the house, he and the other men had watched the drone bounce off the invisible wall that delineated the maze’s airspace. Alice had been sitting on the back porch shucking corn in easy view, laughing at its lack of progress.

  Jack’s face fell. “I don’t know how she’s scrambling my signal, but I’ll get through her defenses any minute now.”

  “Good luck with that,” Brian told him. “But maybe you shouldn’t rile your bride-to-be too much before you even meet her.”

  “Information is the key to any mission,” Jack said.

  Logan excused himself from the room, leaving the others to their talk about USSOCOM and Jack’s future plans. He came downstairs to find Alice in the kitchen tucking containers into a big wicker basket.

  “Almost ready,” she told him.

  “For what?” he asked curiously.

  “To give you this.” She added a bottle of wine, a corkscrew and two plastic cups, then latched the basket. “All yours.” She handed it to him.

  “A picnic?” Logan didn’t understand.

  “You have something to ask Lena, don’t you? I figured it would go over better on a full stomach. That’s not too heavy, is it?”

  Logan hefted the basket. “I’ve carried a lot worse, but what am I supposed to ask her?” He remembered Connor’s idea. He needed a problem for Lena to solve.

  “You’ll have to figure that out,” Alice said, reaching down to pet Tabitha, her white cat. “Better get going. You’ve got quite a hike ahead of you, and Lena’s on horseback.”

  She outlined the directions to Lena’s favorite getaway point and assured him, “We’ll keep an eye on the backhoe, so don’t worry about anything here. Take your time.”

  “Will do.” He headed out the back door. Was the picnic one of Alice’s famous hunches? He supposed it must have been. No matter why she’d thought of it, it was a good idea. Alice was right; he needed to ask Lena a question. Ask her for help.

  But what problem could he ask her to help him solve?

  As he walked, the sun came out, and Logan’s mood improved. Fall was one of his favorite seasons. He thought up ideas and discarded them one after another. He couldn’t ask her help with ranching chores; she’d think he was stupid. He couldn’t ask her to help him build the stables; she’d say they were her stables and then she’d want to build them all by herself.

  He didn’t have any problems to solve—

  Except the trouble with his family.

  Logan shook his head. That problem was impossible to solve, and while he welcomed the idea of getting to know Lena—marrying her—sharing more about his past with her felt uncomfortable.

  But the longer he hiked, the more he became sure it was the only problem he had to offer her. Who knew? Maybe she’d have some insight he’d never thought of. Stranger things could happen.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Logan staggered to a stop, so deep in his thoughts he hadn’t seen Lena on horseback round a curve in the trail ahead of him.

  “Coming to see if you’re hungry.” He lifted the basket. He’d run out of time to find a different problem to solve.

  Family it was.

  She pressed her lips together. Scanned their surroundings as if looking for a good reason to say no. “I guess so,” she said finally. She urged Atlas to turn around. “There’s a spot just up ahead. Meet you there.”

  She spurred Atlas on, leaving Logan in a cloud of dust to trudge after her. Up here he had a fine view of the rest of the ranch. It wasn’t hard to see why Brian already felt attached to the place. He thought he could dig in here, too.

  If Lena let him.

  Let her solve the problem, he reminded himself. Let her take charge.

  This wasn’t going to be easy.

  “What did you bring?” Lena asked when he finally caught up with her.

  “I’m not sure; Alice packed the basket.” He set it down, opened it up and pulled out a red-and-white-checkered blanket. He handed it to Lena, who spread it on the ground. “Looks like sandwiches, potato salad, pickles…” He took them out one by one, appreciating Alice’s attention to detail. There were plates and silverware, chips and apple pie. And, of course, the bottle of wine.

  “I’m hungry,” he said, realizing it was true.

  “Me, too.” They settled in, passing the containers back and forth, Lena holding the cups while Logan poured the wine.

  It was almost civilized, Logan thought.

  But how long would that last?

  Lena wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to this picnic. Maybe because her ride had settled her down and made her realize she couldn’t be upset with Brian for falling in love with Two Willows. He was Cass’s husband, and it was right for him to stake his claim here, especially with a baby on the way. That didn’t mean she had to accept Logan’s presence here, though.

  Although right now his presence wasn’t that bad. He hadn’t called her baby girl again, for one thing. Hadn’t said much at all, actually. Their companionable silence made her feel mellow, and the food Alice had packed was hitting the spot.

  “Out here, you could almost pretend it was a hundred years ago,” Logan said suddenly.

  She’d had that same thought many times before. Lena liked to come out here and pretend the world was a much newer place. That the continent hadn’t been overridden by cars and airplanes, and that there were vast stretches of land sparsely populated, enough for everyone.

  “If you could go back in time, when would you go?” she asked him. It was a question she’d pondered often by herself but had never asked anyone else.

  Logan thought about that for a good long while. “It’s hard to choose. I’d love to go back and see the Romans. On the one hand they seem so modern, and on the other, so incredibly ancient. But mostly I think I’d like to be here in the United States in the 1600s. I’d like to be one of the first Europeans who set out to explore this continent. Just a musket in my hand and a pack on my back, walking into the forest to see what was there. I guess every man wishes he could be a pioneer at some point. How about you?”

  “The Revolutionary War,” she said without hesitation. “Fighting for freedom. For shared values. Against tyranny—I can’t think of anything better than that.”

  “I imagine you don’t picture yourself sitting in a parlor with the other ladies rolling bandages for the war effort?”

  She couldn’t help but meet his impish grin with one of her own. “Hell, no.” That was the last thing she pictured herself doing. “I would’ve been a spy. A rebel spy. I would have worked for General Washington.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Lena hesitated. People only led with that if their question was personal. “I guess.”

  “Why don’t you sign up? Hell, why not be a spy—today? I’m sure you cou
ld do it.”

  “College. Languages. The military. Years away from my home.” She waved a hand to encompass the ranch. “It’s a nonstarter. Two Willows is my life. It always has been. I was born to run this ranch. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but I also think you could be an asset to this country. Did your father ever suggest—?”

  “No, he didn’t,” she said shortly. “And my mother wouldn’t have liked it, even if he did.”

  “She would have stopped you from going?”

  “No, but—” How to explain to him. “She had a superstition. One she really believed.” Lena didn’t want to expose her mother’s memory to ridicule, but sooner or later someone would fill Logan in on her mother’s quirks if they hadn’t already. “She made a pact with the land. If she stayed on Two Willows—always—the General would remain safe.” She braced herself for Logan’s derision.

  “So… she never left the ranch?” Logan set his sandwich on his plate. “Not at all?”

  “No. Not ever. Now she’s gone, it’s Cass’s job mostly—but we all help. There’s always one of us here.”

  Logan nodded. “Brian said something about that, but I didn’t understand it. So, you feel since your mother never left the ranch, you should stay, too?”

  “I want to stay,” Lena said fiercely. “You’re right; I would make a damn good soldier—and a damn good spy. But Two Willows needs me.”

  Logan nodded. “The Revolutionary War?” he said, bringing them back to their earlier topic, as if sensing their discussion had strayed too far for Lena’s comfort. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be injured back then. Medical treatments were pretty much like torture.”

  Lena chuckled, grateful to be back on solid ground. “I wouldn’t have gotten injured,” she said with conviction. “I would’ve made sure we won the war a year or two earlier.”

  Logan laughed out loud. “Cocky, aren’t we?”

  “I know what I’m capable of.”

  “I bet you do,” Logan said, sobering. He lifted his sandwich and took another bite, and his gaze took on a faraway look. Lena wondered what he thought about when he got like that. The career he’d left behind? His family?

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” she challenged him.

  Logan swallowed the bite he’d just taken. “Do you think I’d be here if I did?”

  “Why are you here?”

  He looked away again. “The short answer is because your father sent me.”

  “What’s the long answer?” Lena took a sip of her wine. She wondered if Logan would tell her the truth.

  “The long answer is… I think fate wants me here.”

  She sputtered and swallowed, the liquid going down the wrong way. Logan reached out, clapped her on the back, and her cup went flying, spilling the wine, which drained into the dusty ground beside the blanket.

  “Shoot. Sorry.” Logan fetched her plastic cup and returned it to her. Lena looked at the dust covering it. He took it away again and replaced it with his.

  “You’re kind of a menace, aren’t you?” Lena asked.

  With that rueful expression on his face, he looked like the puppy he’d had her picturing the other day. “I don’t mean to be.”

  She set his cup down and returned to her own sandwich. “Why do you think fate wants you at Two Willows?” she asked.

  “It’s a little personal.”

  “Now you have to tell me.” Lena winced. That sounded a lot like flirting, and she didn’t mean to flirt with Logan.

  “You know my parents wanted me to be a priest.”

  “Heaven help us all.”

  Logan elbowed her.

  “Stop it, or you’ll send my sandwich flying next,” she warned him.

  “My parents wanted me to be a priest,” he tried again, heaving a sigh. He was even more handsome when he was losing his cool, Lena had to admit. She tried to focus on his words instead of his face. “I never wanted that,” Logan went on. “Never had the patience for that kind of thing. But for a while now…” He took a deep breath, and Lena waited curiously to see what he’d say. “I’ve been having these dreams.”

  “I don’t want to hear any more,” Lena said quickly.

  He made a face. “Not that kind of dream, although—” He cut off with a grin she was getting to know far too well. “Are you sure you don’t want to know? Some of them are pretty interesting…”

  “That’s it; I’m leaving.” Lena made like she’d stand up.

  Logan tugged her back down. “Fine, but you don’t know what you’re missing.”

  Lena tried as hard as she could not to guess what she was missing, but she couldn’t help wondering what Logan thought about when he pictured them together.

  Had he pictured them together?

  She had, if she was truthful. And when she imagined his hands on her bare skin, well… things got pretty hot.

  “Anyway,” Logan went on. “These dreams are different. I have this sense that something’s wrong. That someone needs help. A woman.”

  “Okay.” Not too out of the ordinary.

  “And here’s where it gets weird. In my dreams, St. Michael appears.” He lifted the medallion. “And he hands me his sword. I know I have to save… whoever it is I’m supposed to save.” He broke off for a moment and shook his head. “That’s why when trouble came, I did try to save someone. Not with a sword—”

  “Save who?” Lena couldn’t help asking.

  “The wife of a Major.” His face had gone ruddy, and Lena watched him, fascinated, as he looked anywhere but at her. “I was walking past their house. They lived on base, like me. I heard shouting through an open window. Stuff crashing around. It sounded like a fight, and there was a woman involved.” He finally met her gaze. “What was I supposed to do? Let her get beat up?”

  Lena swallowed. “No. Of course not.” His earnestness told her the incident still bothered him. “What happened?”

  “They were fighting,” Logan said. “But no one was getting hurt. Turns out the wife was taking her anger out on some of their possessions. All I managed to do was punch the guy, embarrass both of them and get myself reassigned to your father’s task force.”

  “It was still the right thing to do.” She had to hand it to the General; he sent men of integrity to Two Willows.

  “I’d do it all over again if I heard that kind of fighting,” he admitted.

  “But you just said fate sent you here, because if you hadn’t had the dream, you wouldn’t have intervened,” she pointed out.

  Logan seemed to mull this over. He shook his head. “I would always intervene if I heard a woman being hurt. Guess I don’t know what the dream means, after all.”

  “You should talk to Alice about it; she’s all about premonitions.”

  “Maybe I should do that.” He leaned back and rested his weight on his hands. “That still leaves me with the problem of my parents. How do I convince them I’m not priest material?”

  He was asking her for parental advice? That was comical. “You realize I don’t even speak to the General, right?”

  “You had a good relationship with your mother, didn’t you?”

  Unexpected tears pricked her eyes. Lena blinked them away quickly. She would never cry in front of Logan. Wasn’t one for crying at all. Something had her all out of sorts these days.

  But she had been able to show her feelings to her mother, and she realized she missed that. “Mom was amazing,” she said simply. “I mean, she ran this whole place while the General was gone. She had help, but she held it together, inside and out. She was the heart of the ranch. The five of us can’t match her.”

  “What was she like?” Logan asked softly.

  “She always had time to talk. You’d walk into the kitchen thinking you were hungry, and an hour later all your problems would be solved.”

  “What advice do you think she’d give me?”

  Lena considered him. “I think she’d start by asking what your goals ar
e if becoming a priest isn’t one of them.”

  He toyed with his fork. She noticed he’d barely touched his food—odd behavior from a man who loved to eat as far as she had seen. “I want to settle down.” He looked almost as surprised as she was by this pronouncement. He shrugged. “It’s time.”

  “What about being a Marine? You’re ready to give that up?” She couldn’t explain why warmth had spread through her at his declaration. She wasn’t interested in Logan. Definitely not in settling down with him.

  “I guess I am. I loved it.” He spread his hands wide. “Loved the action. The sense of purpose. The hard work. The camaraderie. But I think I can have all of that here—”

  “Here?” Lena set down her plate. “What do you mean here?”

  “Lena, you’re not dumb; you know why your father sent me.”

  Lena blinked. She hadn’t expected him to come right out and admit that. “He sent you to marry me?” He was right; she had guessed something like that. But knowing it was one thing. Having Logan say it was another altogether.

  “He did.” His gaze searched hers. “And I’m more than willing. I’ve been staring at your face back at USSOCOM for months, Lena. Saying hi to your photograph every morning when I went to work.”

  “Saying… hi?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “Hello, baby girl,” he said. And then he leaned over and kissed her. “Now that I’ve said what my goals are, what advice would your mother give me?”

  Slug him. Slug him, a voice in her mind railed. Do something to stop this right now!

  But Lena couldn’t move, because she heard her mother’s voice, too, as clearly as if she were here at the picnic. She knew exactly what advice Amelia would give Logan. “Stay the course, son. Don’t you give up on my girl. She needs you.”

  Lena swallowed hard, scrambled to her knees and began to repack the basket. “She’d say it’s time to head back.”

  Logan sighed. “I’m not going to push you. We need to get to know each other first. I’m just telling you how I feel.”

  “You know how I feel about men,” Lena retorted. “Or haven’t I made myself clear?”

  “We’re not all abusive.” He reached out to touch her cheek, as if he knew right where Scott had hit her. Maybe he did. Maybe Brian and the others had discussed her at length. The thought made her burn with anger.