Mending Hearts: Logan's Story

by Kimberly Krey

  Mending Hearts

  Logan’s Story

  Second Chances; Volume Two

  A Companion to the Sweet Montana Bride Series

  KIMBERLY KREY

  Mending Hearts

  Copyright © 2015 KIMBERLY KREY

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art by KIMBERLY KREY © 2015

  Formatting by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

  ISBN: 1515083098

  ISBN-13: 978-1515083092

  Mending Hearts

  Logan’s Story

  Second Chances; Volume Two

  A Companion to the Sweet Montana Bride Series

  Second Chances Series:

  by KIMBERLY KREY

  Rough Edges

  Allie’s Story

  Mending Hearts

  Logan’s Story

  Fresh Starts

  Bree’s Story

  See Amazon.com for availability

  DEDICATION

  To my River Bivs:

  You have such a pure and loving heart!

  You care about friends and

  strangers alike, often putting others before

  yourself; that is a rare and

  beautiful gift!

  Thank you for being kind, compassionate,

  and for always striving to

  Do the right!

  Love you forever & ever.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Logan cursed under his breath while trudging over the frozen ground. Late March and they still had enough snow to cover the ranch as far as the eye could see. To make matters worse, another mean Montana blizzard was about to strike.

  A blast of static came from the CB at his belt. “How we doin’ on feed, son?” Earl asked.

  Light from the pale sky lit the dwindling mound as he pulled open the barn door. His father’s voice had been coated with concern, and while he hated making it worse, Logan couldn’t hide the truth. “Looks like we’re going to have to order some extra feed with Grant and Betty. This won’t last beyond the next storm.”

  The sound of Earl’s disheartened sigh came through the dusty box. “I was afraid of that. I bet you’re sorry you left your practice behind about now.”

  Logan pressed at the small button. “Not at all, Pop. A day on the ranch – even one like this – beats a day in the office any time.” Logan didn’t bother elaborating, but he’d meant every word. Being a veterinarian wasn’t for him. Too bad he hadn’t realized it sooner. “I’ll head over to Grant’s this afternoon and we’ll order the feed. Shouldn’t make too much of a dent. With the extra cattle we’ve got this year, we’re bound to see a good payoff come fall.” With that, he clipped the box to his belt and worked at distributing a portion of feed to the hungry cattle.

  He checked the calving barn next. Baby calves latched onto their mothers, safe from high winds, low temps, and hungry coyotes that stalked ranches this time of year. The calving barn was a new addition itself, and a welcome one at that. It left Logan with one less thing to worry about in a world where the very word seemed to own him. Worry over the hungry cattle. Worry over finances and his father’s ranch. And worry over the one thing he tried very hard not to think about: Candice.

  Yet as he continued his chores in the blustering cold, images from their struggling marriage flooded his mind. The replayed events always treaded the same trail: The early, fairytale-like beginnings, followed by a sequence of disappointments and wrong turns.

  And then something more tragic.

  He winced, redirecting his thoughts. All too often Logan revisited the difficulties of his past, yet he’d learned to keep certain memories tucked safely away; he wasn’t about to unleash them now. He’d simply focus on taking care of the things he could control, like ordering feed to carry them through the next few weeks.

  With his thoughts back in line, Logan headed out to his Uncle Grant’s place. White flurries of snow flew wickedly across the faded blue sky as he shut off the engine to his truck. He was just about to crack open the door when his phone buzzed. It took him a moment to get it to his ear, having to dig the thing from his pocket and all, so he didn’t bother checking the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “Logan?”

  The sound of the voice surprised him. “Marge?” It was his mother-in-law. “What’s going on?” He pulled the phone away from his ear, prepared for the woman’s rather loud voice.

  “Nothing really. Well, a whole lot, actually. On Monday night we’re having a big family get-together at my place.”

  Logan furrowed his brow. He and Candice had been separated since they moved back to Montana; they didn’t attend the other’s family functions. “Okay…” he prompted.

  “I know you and Candice aren’t seeing each other right now, but I think it’d be best if you came.”

  His keys fell to the floor mat. It felt as if his heart had done the same. “Why? Is something wrong?”

  “No,” Marge said in a reluctant tone. “It’s just that… well Boyd has proposed, and we’re getting married. We plan to tell everybody that night, but I’m not sure how Candice will take it.”

  Candice’s mother was getting remarried? Now, after all these years? He was stunned – had never imagined the widowed woman remarrying for as long as she lived. “Maybe you should just pull her aside and, you know, tell her one-on-one.”

  “Oh, heavens no,” Marge said. “I need her to be surrounded by loved ones. It’s not that I don’t think she’ll be happy for me and Boyd, but the situation will put her in a pickle. Her living in the house and all. She won’t want to stay here once Boyd moves in.”

  His mind raced as he switched the phone from one hand to the other. Just where in tarnation would Candice live? “I see what you mean.”

  “So,” Marge blurted. “Will you come or not?”

  With the quick jerk of one hand, Logan unsnapped the top buttons of his denim coat. He tugged at the neck of his shirt next, suddenly feeling like a trapped animal. A Saint Bernard in a poodle’s pen. He pushed open the truck door, welcoming a gust of wind to cool his heated face. “I’d like to be there for her, trust me, but Candice wants nothing to do with me.”

  “I don’t think she knows what she wants,” Marge said, her loud voice coming in handy now to combat the sound of the storm. “Just come, Logan. Please.”

  An image of his wife popped into this head. Soft, blonde hair, deep green eyes, and a smile that could knock a man off his horse in a blink.

  Logan puffed out an exhausted gust of air. “Alright,” he finally said. “What time?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Candice pressed a thumb into the avocado in her hand, frowning as it stayed firm beneath her touch. There’d be no guacamole in her near future with this bunch.

  “There are a few ripe ones in back,” a voice spoke from behind.

  Candice spun to see Ms. Dibbs stacking a pyramid of oranges. “I pull them off the shelves when they are so close to rotting, but if you use them by tomorrow they should make a nice dip.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Candice said. “I’ve been craving guacamole for weeks.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “Craving?” She glanced down at Candice’s midsection. “Are you two finally…”

  “No.” Candice’s face warmed. “Not that kind of craving.”

  “I was going to say, you don’t look like you’re expecting.” The woman returned her attention to the oranges. “But while we�
��re on the subject, I wonder if you’re getting enough greens. That’s really supposed to help. When my daughter was trying to get pregnant…”

  Candice tuned out her words while gritting her teeth. How was it that she had lived away from home most of her married life yet still everyone knew her business? Well, if they knew so much about her they may as well know it all. With that thought, Candice spun around.

  “And then of course,” Ms. Dibbs continued, “you should always prop your butt on a pillow – ”

  “We’re separated,” Candice blurted, silencing the woman in an instant.

  “You don’t say?”

  A thick gulp slunk down Candice’s throat. She forced her shoulders higher and nodded. “Yeah. We have been since we moved back here. We’ll be getting divorced soon.”

  After an awkward moment of gaze-dodging and lip-twisting, Ms. Dibbs motioned for Candice to follow her. “Let’s go get you those avocados. I’ll slap on a reduced price sticker that will have you taking them home for next to nothing.”

  “Thanks,” Candice said, trailing after her into a large cooler. She wished she could ignore the woman’s comments, pretend she hadn’t heard them and just go on with her pleasant day. But it wasn’t so easy. Not when a list of unsolicited tips and suggestions came rushing through her head. Try waiting a few days between intercourse. Stay in bed for an hour with your legs propped. Make sure Logan’s not wearing his jeans too tight. Why people thought her business was their business she’d never know.

  Still, she pasted a smile on her lips while taking the avocados from Ms. Dibbs. The woman meant well, after all. Soon word of their pending divorce would catch on, and she wouldn’t have to hear any more helpful tips about her private life. She could hardly wait to have it all behind her at last.

  ~ + ~

  Candice tore off her coat after entering the house. “Hello?” she called, draping it over the chair.

  “In here,” her mother hollered from the kitchen.

  “Please say Shelly hasn’t picked up the kids yet.” Candice rounded the corner to see baby Rueben tucked into his grandma’s embrace.

  “Nope. Ryan and Ross are out back, and I’m warming Reuben’s bottle now. You’re just in time to feed him.”

  Candice gave her mom a relieved smile as she set the sack of groceries on the counter. “Ah, thank heavens. I had a student stay after to retake a test, and then the store took longer than I thought. I worried by the time I got home they’d be gone.” Candice washed and dried her hands as her mom approached, then gently took the baby from her arms. “All I could think about was snuggling up to this warm little bundle.”

  Reuben gummed his fist with a series of small grunts, working his way into a cry.

  “You’re not going to fuss now, are you?” Candice cooed, walking slowly into the front room. “Come on. Come sit with Auntie Candice while Grandma gets your bottle.” She eased onto the couch before running a finger over his doughy-soft cheek, appreciating every tiny feature.

  Marge scurried into the room, the bottle in one hand and a burping cloth in the next. After tucking the cloth under Rueben’s chubby little chin, Marge sunk onto the couch as well. “Not sure how much longer Shelly’s going to need me.”

  Candice looked up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean your sister wants to stay at home, and Phil’s just about at the point in his job where he can manage it.”

  “Wow,” Candice said in a whisper. “That’s wonderful. I wonder why she didn’t mention it to me.” Yet even as she spoke Candice realized why her sister hadn’t told her. Shelly worried that news like that would only hurt. After all, her younger sister had everything Candice had dreamt of since she was a little girl. “I wish Shelly could realize that good news to her is good news to me too. I don’t want her to hold back when she talks to me.” Irritated heat pooled into her chest. “It’s one thing to deal with a tough hand in life; it’s another to deal with the way people treat you because of it.”

  “Now don’t you go worrying over that,” Marge said. “Hey, did you ever convince that friend of yours to come out for a visit? What’s her name, Lana?”

  “Yeah, Lana Peters. But no, she’s got too much going on, I guess.” The mention of her close friend had dropped Candice’s spirits another notch. She didn’t miss too much about Colorado, having her family here like she did, but she did long to have some girl time again. And Lana – unlike a lot of other mom friends she had – was always up for a girls’ night out.

  “Well, maybe she’ll come once summer’s here,” Marge said as she climbed off the couch, leaving her and the baby in peace.

  Candice nuzzled her face against Reuben’s cheek, listening to him suck and gulp, and let the warmth of him take her away. Nothing soothed a heart like holding a baby, and Candice sunk right into the bliss of it, breathing in and out with the little life in her arms.

  She barely noticed Marge as she sped around the house fussing over one detail and the next. Once she dragged a card table and chairs into the front room, Candice realized she was missing something. “Are we expecting company tonight?”

  Her mother tipped the card table on its side. “Didn’t I tell you? Everyone’s coming out for dinner.”

  “They are?” The thought filled Candice with anticipation one moment, and then dread the next. She loved the company, and enjoyed catching up with her niece and nephews, but Candice couldn’t quite shake the emptiness she felt once they all said goodbye. Something occurred to her then – if Shelly stayed at home with the kids she wouldn’t get to see them much anymore. That was probably why Shelly hadn’t mentioned it.

  A thick layer of gloom settled over the space. Candice held Reuben even closer, kissed the side of his head, and forced her thoughts from the sudden loneliness she felt. “So what are we eating?” She hadn’t remembered seeing anything in the kitchen. Hadn’t caught scents of her mom’s cooking, either.

  Marge began setting up the chairs. “Boyd will be here any minute with his famous ribs.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Shelly’s picking up a potato salad from the market,” Marge continued, “and your brother and Tiff are bringing rolls.”

  Candice stood to follow Marge into the kitchen, watching as she pulled a cream pie from the fridge, and then another. “I feel bad. I’m the only one who didn’t contribute.”

  “No, don’t feel bad. It was a last minute thing. Besides, you’ve been working all day.” Marge reached out to take the baby, a large smile plastered on her round face.

  “Hey, did you dye your hair?” Candice asked.

  Marge shifted her eyes from Candice to the baby. “Of course not,” she said. But Candice could tell she had. The woman’s short hair had been streaked with increasing shades of gray over the last few years. And now, not a hint of grey could be seen. Only rich, dark brown remained. It made her look younger. “It looks nice,” Candice persisted.

  Her mother turned away from her and fished Reuben’s binky out of the diaper bag.

  “Hey,” Candice said, recalling the avocados she bought. “Want me to make some guacamole for tonight?”

  “No, dear. Don’t you worry about making the dip. Just find something for the grandkids to do. A fun little craft or something once they get here.”

  “Okay,” Candice agreed, an idea coming to mind already. With some extra cardstock she had laying around, Candice outlined a placemat for each one of the kids. Next, she set markers, crayons, and foam stickers at the center of the table. The kids could decorate not only their own placemats, but their paper cups and plastic utensils as well.

  The tangy aroma of Boyd’s famous ribs made it through the door before he did. The large man carried a massive foil container as he hollered from the porch. “Incoming!”

  Candice propped the screen door for him. “Hi, Boyd. Come on in.

  “Where should I put these?” Boyd’s voice was loud enough to carry into the kitchen, the yard outback, and possibly the neighbors’
place as well.

  Candice glanced over one shoulder. “The countertop, maybe?”

  “No, no,” her mother yelled from the kitchen. “The stovetop is best. They’ll stay warmer here beneath the light.”

  Boyd paused to give Candice a knowing look. “Guess we better listen to Marge-and-in-Charge,” he said out the side of his mouth.

  Candice laughed and shook her head. Her father would roll over in his grave if he heard someone referring to her mother in such a way. Dad was mild-mannered, soft-spoken, and had never been the kind of tease Boyd was.

  Her sister, Shelly, came next. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck,” she groaned, tightening the messy ponytail at the back of her head.

  She looked like it too, but Candice didn’t say so. “Why?”

  “To start,” Shelly said, “I repotted two dozen trees today at the nursery. Two dozen. And I’m not talking teeny little baby trees. The trunks were bigger around than my arm.”

  “Why are you doing such physical work there?” Candice asked. “Don’t they have a guy around that can do it?”

  Shelly only yawned and shook her head. “Want to keep the boys overnight for me? Phil’s out of town and I’m two episodes behind on my show. Plus if I don’t soak in a hot bath for at least twenty minutes, I seriously will shrivel up and die.”

  Candice laughed. “We’d be happy to keep the boys. You know that.”

  Shelly’s posture drooped. “I know, but I would miss them too much. I’ve barely even seen them today.”

  “I know.” Candice smiled, wrapping her arm around her ever-frazzled sister.

  “Guess I’ll have to settle for Ninja Turtles and a quick shower instead.”

  Shelly’s rowdy boys were running circles around the place. “You never know. They might just tire out and drift off during the Ninja Turtles.”