Mending Hearts: Logan's Story

by Kimberly Krey

  Even then as Candice sat on the break room couch, she could feel the pleasant warmth of his body as he’d hovered over her. Sense the tempting taste of his lips as they’d grazed her mouth. Feel the incredible sensation of his warm breath as he teased her neck. A ripple of goosebumps rose on her skin at the memory. He had been different that night. Happy. And focused on the moment. Not wrapped up in that world of stress he always brought home with him back in Colorado. Of course he hadn’t said so much as a word to her at her mother and Boyd’s ceremony weeks ago. Logan had stayed in the far corner of the chapel closest to the door. The last to come. First to leave. Never once catching eye contact with her. He hadn’t needed words to get his message across: Logan was over her. Point taken.

  “Looks like I threw you into a world of reflection,” Patty said.

  Candice had to replay Patty’s words a few times to register them. “No, you didn’t. I live in that world. Permanently.” She shook her head, let out a small laugh. “I’ve looked for a way out, trust me. I don’t want to be trapped in some analytical cycle, but it’s how I’m designed.” Already, her mind was working to put a reason to that even. It was the one thing she could never really figure though – why she felt the need to put a cause or purpose behind each occurrence in life. Shelly wasn’t that way at all. Her sister’s it-is-what-it-is attitude allowed her to brush things off before they even settled onto her skin. Water off a duck’s back, her mother used to say. If only Candice could do the same.

  “Why, speak of the devil as I live and breathe,” Patty exclaimed.

  “Howdy, Ms. Nickles,” came a low, familiar voice.

  Candice’s eyes widened as she turned to the doorway. “Logan?”

  Logan tucked one hand into his pocket. His button up shirt, rolled at the sleeves, revealed a line of well-defined muscle along his forearm. His rich, dark hair captured that delicate balance of messy perfection, framing the strong features of his handsome face.

  How could it hurt to look at someone, Candice wondered. Physically hurt? It didn’t make sense.

  “I’m …” he glanced at Patty before setting those deep brown eyes back on her. “I’d like to borrow my wife.”

  Candice sucked in a breath, shifting her gaze to look beyond Logan. She hoped it might clear the sudden layer of fuzz cramming her brain. She caught sight of the disposable foam cups by the coffee maker. If Candice were one of those cups, she’d say she had been filled to the brim with something hot and dangerous. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling these things for Logan. In fact, she had plans to meet with a lawyer later that week, get things taken care of once and for all.

  “I’m sure that’d be fine,” Patty said, cutting into the silence.

  “Oh,” Candice blurted, “I can’t. Sam Green’s watching my class now. I’ve only got until the top of the hour to get back to him. Is there something you wanted to tell me?” Yeah, that was the right approach. Have him spill the details about whatever it was he came for, preferably in front of Patty so things couldn’t get too personal.

  “Well,” Logan said, “for starters, you don’t have to get back to Sam so soon.”

  Candice tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “I went into your classroom already. Sam said I could keep you until 2:00.” Logan leaned back against the wall and shrugged. “Guy owes me a favor.”

  Patty had snuck over to the coffee machine, was pouring herself a cup while Candice worked to find a reply. In went the creamer, the sugar was next, and then Patty began stirring it all together with a tiny red straw. Candice was a mixture of things herself. Her mental cup of hot and dangerous now contained a strong dose of reluctance, a splash of curiosity, and a sweet and undeniable spoonful of desire for the man before her. Perhaps she hadn’t imagined the change in him. He was definitely different from Colorado Logan.

  “You going to come on your own, or do I have to scoop you up and carry you down the hallway myself?”

  Candice looked up in surprise.

  Logan shot her a wink, easing into a playful grin. “It’d make for some interesting conversation among the kids.”

  That earned a laugh from her. “Alright, I’ll come.” Candice stood and straightened her skirt. “But only if you tell me where we’re going.”

  Logan’s smile grew. “And spoil all the fun? Not a chance.”

  She took a backward step, the warmth inside her cooling down in a flash.

  “C’mon, Candice. Just let it be a surprise for once, will you?”

  Patty stopped blowing on her coffee. “Just go with him,” she said. “He is still your husband.”

  Candice rolled her eyes. She didn’t like people ganging up on her. The problem was, part of her wanted to go with him. Just seeing him had her feeling less broken than she’d been moments ago. Besides, he’d have her back by 2:00. It wasn’t like a whole lot could happen in such a short time. At last Candice snatched her paper bag off the table, reached for her jacket, and set her gaze on the doorway past Logan. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Talk about miracle upon miracles. Logan could hardly believe his luck. He’d actually managed to get Candice to leave with him. And here she was, seated in his truck.

  One very big step in the right direction.

  “So why does Sam owe you a favor?” Candice asked.

  Logan slowed at the approaching stop sign. “I treated his dog a few weeks back. His collie had some sort of allergic reaction.”

  “Is he okay now?”

  “Yeah,” Logan said. “And it’s a she – the dog.” He’d done the service free of charge – wasn’t like he was still in practice or anything – just doing a favor for an old classmate. But once discovering Sam was the only other fourth grade teacher at the elementary, Logan planned to ask the guy for a favor in return. He’d known that Candice would be as downhearted as it got the day after their spot on the list expired, and he planned to tear her away from her grief for a time. Of course, their position on the list hadn’t really expired, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Besides, Candice said she’d already resigned herself to a life without children. Now he needed to help her see that she didn’t have to abandon life with him along with it.

  Candice folded her arms, set her gaze on the sights beyond the glass, and remained quiet while Logan drove on. Anticipation stirred within him as he turned down the dirt road along the orchard. Row after row of gorgeous green, complimented by pink blossoms and buds. Soon the tiny apples would grow and add an entirely new splash of color to the mix.

  “I’ve always loved this orchard,” Candice said, her voice a calm and soothing song. “It makes me feel so alive. Like I could run down the rows with my arms stretched out and breathe in all the wonderful scents.”

  Logan hid a grin. His old Candice was back – if only for a moment – lost in the beauty of her surroundings. The orchard was a sight in itself, Logan wouldn’t deny it, but it’s not why he’d brought her here today. A vision of what he’d really come for eased into view. A massive meadow lining the north side of his father’s land, nearly hidden behind the old weathered shed.

  A deep gasp pulled from Candice’s throat as the view unfolded before her. A sea of tall-standing flowers in full bloom, the rich petals a myriad of color, caught between orange and pink.

  “What is this? Whose flowers are these?”

  Logan slowed the truck and steered it beside a leafy oak. “Doc Johnson’s wife had them planted a few years back. Says she likes to sit on the back porch, rock in her chair, and gaze at them all season long.”

  “Wow. I don’t blame her,” Candice said. “Are they fragrant?”

  “Not sure.”

  Candice pushed open the truck door, inhaled a deep breath, and spun back to look at him. “They are fragrant!” A pleased grin pulled at her lips. Her hazel eyes went wide with wonder. She jumped down from the truck and pulled in another breath. “Can you smell them? It’s incredible.”

  So was she, he mused
. It was as if part of her soul was connected to the growing world around her. Like the field was not made up of mere flowers, but of old friends. He’d missed that about Candice – her passion. It seemed to always pull her out of the darkest slumps. Back in Colorado the options were plenty. Nearby rivers and trails, scenic drives to nearby parks. The Garden of the Gods – with its massive red rocks and unique formations – was her favorite. Montana wasn’t lacking for beauty either, and perhaps it was time to explore some of it with her.

  After shutting off the truck, Logan reached for the pair of tennis shoes he’d borrowed from Allie, knowing that Candice would most likely be wearing a pair of heels. He’d been right. Unlike most women he knew, Candice preferred wearing skirts to work. She’d take a simple cotton skirt over a pair of jeans any day. Thank heavens Allie had the sense to tuck a pair of socks into one of the shoes; that was something he hadn’t considered.

  “I can’t believe how inspiring this is,” Candice said as he stepped next to her, holding the shoes behind his back. “I can already see the art project I’m going to have the kids do. A field of flowers. Colored potpourri for the petals. Grass for stems…” She let out a long, dreamy sigh, and turned to him. “I wish I could just run through it.”

  Logan popped one brow. “You do?”

  She gave him a wordless nod while her slender fingers fiddled with the neck of her blouse.

  “Then today is your lucky day.” He lifted the shoes to where she could see.

  Candice glanced at the pair before setting her eyes back on him. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “We can’t actually do it. That would be rude. I’m sure Mrs. Johnson –”

  But Logan stopped her right there. “It’s fine. I already asked her.”

  “No way.” Candice brought her hand up, began biting at her thumbnail as she eyed the view further. “Hmm,” she mumbled. “We can really do it?”

  “Yep. Go ahead and hop back into the truck for a minute. I’ll uh… help you change out of your shoes.”

  He could hardly believe his eyes as Candice did just that. What? No arguing? That was a surprise – a refreshing one at that.

  The skirt she wore wasn’t short by any means, the lacy hem coming right to her knees. But as she climbed onto the running board of his truck, the fabric hiked up, giving Logan a glimpse of her smooth-looking thigh. A smoldering fire burned low in his belly at the sight. He averted his gaze in time for her to settle into the seat, her feet dangling over the edge.

  Candice secured her skirt around her legs, tucking it in the center so nothing beyond her knees showed. She proceeded to lean forward, reaching for her tan colored heel, but Logan stopped her.

  “Uh-uh,” he said. “I’ve got this. Can’t have you falling out of this monster truck and onto your pretty face, can we?” His hands were on her ankle before she could argue, working to unfasten the delicate clasp. A fragrant breeze swept over his back, causing part of Candice’s skirt to ripple. She rested her hands on it and blew out a breath. Not a calm, even breath. More like a nervous one. Shaky. Halted.

  Logan glanced up. “You cold?”

  With her lips pinned between her teeth, Candice shook her head. At once a rash of goosebumps surfaced over her legs.

  Was his touch affecting her? Logan could only hope. He let the tips of his fingers linger along the smooth arch of her foot as he slipped the first shoe off. He moved on to the next with an audible gulp, encasing her small ankle with one hand. It was silk against his palm.

  “So,” he said, “how’s your day been going?”

  Candice lifted her chin, holding his gaze with unreadable interest. “Why do you ask?”

  Logan tilted his head to one side, gave her a knowing look. “The list?”

  “Oh.” Her gaze dropped back to her feet. “I’m doing alright.”

  He offered a slight nod before returning his attention to the gold clasp at her shoe, feeling clumsy suddenly as he worked to unlatch it. At last he loosened the strap and gently pulled the heeled shoe off her other foot. Despite what Candice said about not being cold, the tips of her toes felt cool against Logan’s fingers. He grabbed the soft, cotton socks and tugged them onto her feet, one after the next, then proceeded to cup her toes between his palms, hoping to warm them. Without another thought, he gave the ball of her foot a good, long squeeze, and then another. And soon he was massaging her foot altogether.

  Candice didn’t fight it. Only leaned her cheek onto the headrest and closed her eyes.

  Knowing he had her consent, Logan moved to the other, pressing into the knots he found along the way. When she moaned in approval, a smile pulled at the corner of Logan’s lips. He circled a thumb over her ankle and envisioned moving up her legs. Rubbing her calves first, and then making his way up to her thighs. The image fanned at the fire in his belly once more. That deep-rooted yearning he had for her. At once he stepped away and let his arm drop.

  Candice’s lashes fluttered, and she looked at him with inquisitive eyes.

  Logan cleared his throat. “Guess we better get these shoes on you.”

  “Are they Allie’s?”

  “Yep,” he said, “should fit you well enough.”

  “Are she and Braden still doing well?” Candice asked through a yawn. “They looked so happy at the wedding.”

  Logan nodded, realizing that was the second time he’d caught her yawning. He wondered if she hadn’t slept well the night before, with as heart-broken as she was. Had she spent the long, lonely night in tears? The thought made him ache. And there was that blister on her bottom lip – the one that formed each time she pinched it during sessions of worry.

  “Logan?”

  He glanced up at her. “Yeah?”

  “Your sister and Braden,” she said. “How are they doing?”

  “They’re happy,” he said, snapping out of his musings. “Braden’s perfect for her. The girls really like him too. Even Paige, and you know how she is.” He stopped there, realizing perhaps Candice didn’t know Paige too well anymore. Logan had spent the last year catching up with his family; she hadn’t. “I think I told you they were adding onto the house, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Well it’s almost done now. They’re just working on paint and all that.” He motioned to the shoe he held out for her, and Candice pushed her heel deep into it, allowing him to tie the laces in turn.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  A bit of guilt crept in with the question. Had he really believed their chance at making things work was over, Logan would be a wreck. Still, the mere idea that Candice was giving up hope – if she hadn’t already – made it hard to breathe. “I’m doing alright,” he finally said. He took her by the hand, motioning for her to jump down. “I’ve just been more worried about you, I guess,” he added once she hit the ground. “It’s not a good time to be alone.”

  The blue sky seemed to brighten as she gave him a light grin. His heart was a horse – galloping into action, racing to the point he thought the pulsing of it might be visible through his shirt.

  “You’re right,” she said. “It’s not.”

  With her hand soft and warm in his, Logan walked along the outskirt of the field, the light hushing sound of their movement carrying on the wind. “Where should we start?” he asked.

  Candice dragged him back a couple of feet. “Right here.” She pointed at the spot where the flowers changed from their pretty orange color, to a spread of lavender buds. “There’s a tiny break in the growth,” she said. “Almost like a narrow path.”

  Narrow was right, but it was the perfect place.

  “I wonder if these ones will bloom once the others dry up,” Candice said, looking over the buds. She sounded delighted at the thought. “Wouldn’t that be magical? A new bloom for each part of the season?” Her voice had risen in pitch with excitement.

  He smiled. Her enthusiasm was contagious – that spark for life that never fully died out no matter how dow
nhearted she got. Logan had come to live for it. “Yes,” he said, “it would.” And with that, he led her into the field, cradling Candice’s hand as he went. He walked slowly at first, the rustle of swaying stems rhythmic as they moved. But as they picked up speed, the sweeping hush did too, fusing into one continuous sound.

  A bubble of laughter trilled from behind. He glanced back to see a wide smile set on her face. “This is incredible,” she said. “It feels like a dream.”

  He chuckled. “Want to go faster?”

  “Okay,” she said. “But not too fast.”

  The swooshing noise at their feet grew louder, and so did the sound of her laughter.

  “The blossoms smell so sweet,” she hollered.

  Logan pulled in a deep breath, inhaling the honey-sweet scent for himself. He glanced over one shoulder to see Candice lift her chin toward the sun. His gaze fell to the tips of her fingers as they grazed over the pastel buds with her other hand. He gave it a shot, feeling oddly clumsy in the effort after watching her graceful touch. Soft, velvety pods tickled the length of his fingers and palms, some grazing the inside of his wrist. It felt nice. Soft, like a woman’s touch.

  Gradually Logan slowed, reducing their pace until he was barely moving. They were nearing the end of the field, and he didn’t want their moment to end.

  A wave of vertigo fell over him as he spun to face her, the sound of their fast-paced breaths filling the space between them. Logan gulped, working to calm his pounding pulse as he appreciated the flushed color of her cheeks, accented by the surrounding flowers. So beautiful.

  Candice held his gaze, took a step closer. He noticed something then – a world of conflict, dancing in the forest of her eyes. Doubt, laced with desire.

  Desire. The word poured over his skin. Sunk into every pore.

  His heart clanked wickedly against his ribs, but he didn’t move. Not even an inch. He feared it might break the spell. Please. Just give into it, Candice.

  At last she reached out to him with timid movements. Placed her hands at either side of his waist, gripping him just above his belt.