by Leigh Riker
The little town of Barren was a far cry from Philly—it was no more than this one street and a few surrounding blocks, from what she’d seen—and most of the area’s population probably lived on ranches like the Circle H. That suited Blossom just fine. She was anonymous here, another bonus.
A smile crossed her lips. She couldn’t imagine Ken here in his fancy suit that had cost thousands of dollars, his silk ties and custom-made white shirts, not to mention his pricey shoes. He’d stick out all right. The local dress code seemed to be jeans and boots and, of course, the ubiquitous cowboy hat.
Logan hadn’t worn one today, but then he didn’t seem to consider himself a cowboy. A jet pilot, he’d told her, and his job was as far from ranching as she was from Philadelphia and Ken. No wonder Logan looked uncomfortable on the Circle H.
In front of a pet store, she gazed at the window display. A red dog collar studded with silver adorned the neck of a stuffed black-and-white border collie. A herding dog. Blossom had seen several of them at the Circle H but only from a distance. We don’t name the animals. They weren’t family pets any more than the little no-name kitten was, at least in Logan’s view.
Unable to resist, Blossom stepped inside the store. From the cat department in the rear, she bought a couple of toys—a mouse with catnip inside, a fishing-pole type thing with feathers at the end—then a dish with a goldfish design and, finally, a small pink beaded collar with a bell to warn the birds.
Outside again, she strolled along the paved walkway, humming to herself.
A few doors down, a children’s apparel shop looked too enticing to be passed by, even when she shouldn’t keep Logan waiting. He’d said not to hurry, but Ken had been good at laying traps like that to spring on her without warning.
Carrying her pet-store bag, she went in.
“Good morning.” A clerk came forward. “May I help you find something?”
“Oh, no. Thank you. Is it all right if I just look around?”
The woman smiled. “Of course. Take your time,” she said as Logan had.
Blossom wasn’t used to dallying. With her father she didn’t dare, and when Ken said jump, she’d asked how high—at least in her mind. Her daily routine in Philly had come to be very structured and, ultimately, confining. She’d even quit her first job there to have more time at “home” to meet Ken’s demanding standards, and it wasn’t often—or hadn’t been until now—that she could simply enjoy part of a morning doing what she liked.
The clerk, who trailed her through the shop, clearly wanted to chat. She had no other customers. Or did she expect Blossom to shoplift from one of the displays? In the next instant she had her answer.
“Do you live here?” the woman asked. “I haven’t seen you before.”
And in small towns, people noticed. She’d gathered that right away from a few curious glances she’d gotten on the street. Blossom would bet the woman knew everyone around here by name.
“I’m passing through,” she admitted with a twinge of regret. What if she’d grown up in a town like this one on a ranch like the Circle H? In a house she could truly call her own?
She explored a rack of oh-so-small baby clothes mostly in blue then, moving on, a set of cream-colored shelves that held silver mugs, little spoons and picture frames. The baby in one photograph made her heart turn over. “What a sweet face,” she said to the clerk, who was still hovering nearby.
“That’s my niece, actually. I wanted to show off this frame in a more personal way. Usually, my stock comes with inserted photos of complete strangers who stare out at me all day. Barren is a close-knit town. People like to make a connection. Isn’t she cute? If you’re not looking for baby boy things, we have some adorable new dresses over there on the far wall.” She waited only a second before asking, “Are you having a little girl?”
As if by instinct, Blossom’s hand went to her stomach. Was she showing already? She hadn’t thought so. It wouldn’t do for word to get around town that she was pregnant. Certainly, she hadn’t told Logan. Or even Sam. Her job at the Circle H seemed precarious enough. She’d be here only a short time, and she’d seen Logan with Nick. She doubted he’d welcome the idea of a baby there.
“No, I’m not,” she said. “I, um, have a friend who is.”
The clerk raised one eyebrow but said nothing.
“Let me show you.”
As the woman pulled out one after another of the most beautiful baby dresses, Blossom all but melted into a puddle on the floor.
She fingered the embroidered hem of a too-cute-for-words gingham sundress. “Pink still seems to be very popular.”
“Purple, too,” the clerk agreed. “Or should I say lavender?”
But it was the tiniest things that called to Blossom. She drifted toward a white basket heaped with layette items from receiving blankets to booties before her gaze fell on an artfully stacked pile of baby hats on the same table.
“The hospital in Kansas City orders these for the newborns,” the clerk told her. “Parents like them for home, too. We have some really nice ones.”
Blossom picked up a multicolored cap in pink and blue and yellow that covered all the bases. To her delight it had an interwoven cowboy/cowgirl motif. “Maybe my friend would like this.”
“I’m sure she would. That’s one of our new designs.”
Blossom couldn’t leave the store without buying something, having taken up the sales associate’s time, and the tiny cap warmed her heart. It didn’t cost that much, which seemed to disappoint the saleswoman but suited Blossom’s budget, and Ken wasn’t here to tell her she didn’t need it.
Moments later she was on the sidewalk again with another bag to carry.
At the end of the street she hurried into the Mother Comfort Home Health Care Agency, her original destination.
“Hi, Blossom.” At the reception desk in the front room, an attractive dark-haired woman had been typing on the computer. When she glanced up, a slight frown crossed her face. “Everything all right on the Circle H?”
Not really. She’d stepped over a boundary with Logan yesterday because of that kiss, and on the way into town she hadn’t known what to say to him. “Fine,” she said, struggling to remember the woman’s name. A few days ago she’d helped Blossom fill out her application.
“I had a terrible time finding someone for Logan. I’m glad you filled the bill.”
“I’m not sure about that but—” She didn’t go any further. “I wanted to ask about my pay. I wasn’t sure of the arrangement.”
The woman’s frown deepened. “The agency collects the money from a client, we take our commission for placing you, then cut a check.” She paused. “It’s not Friday so I can’t pay you yet for the week. But don’t worry. The Hunters always meet their bills and if they didn’t—”
“I’m not worried.” Which was a lie for a different reason. “But...could I get cash instead?”
“That’s not our usual policy.” She hesitated again. “If it’s inconvenient for you to come to town again, we could do direct deposit at your bank.”
Blossom’s pulse skipped. That was even worse. There was no way she’d open a bank account. She wouldn’t give Ken a trail to follow. She’d already made one slip soon after she left Philadelphia. “Not cash then?”
“I can check with my accountant.” She gave Blossom an encouraging smile. “Or I could mail the check to you.”
“No, I’ll come in on Friday.” If she lasted that long before she had to move on again.
Shifting her packages, Blossom finally remembered the woman’s name was Shadow. Her brown gaze was very direct. “Is there a problem, Blossom?”
“No, of course not. I like the Circle H,” she said, which was true. “I was just wondering. Please ask your accountant.”
Her heart was still thumping by the time she finally finished t
he grocery shopping. The ranch cupboards and pantry, the huge double freezer, held plenty of food so she didn’t need much, but a few items had been missing for the dinner she planned to make tonight. Assuming she could think straight by then. A check? Up until now she’d worked for cash doing odd jobs or waiting tables whenever she ran out of money.
But at the baby store the clerk had noticed she was a stranger and seemed suspicious of her at first—and even more of Blossom’s claim that she wasn’t pregnant. Then Shadow had wondered about her need for cash.
As he’d promised, Logan was waiting for her outside the grocery store.
He hopped out of the truck to load her bags into the open bed beside some big sacks of feed.
“I’m sorry I took so long.” She glanced at his face to see if he’d meant what he said earlier or might erupt at any second because she’d taken her time.
“No problem. You hungry?”
Her stomach was in knots. “I could eat something,” she said because Logan looked so eager, and it was already his lunchtime, if not hers. “But I should get this food in the fridge.”
He peered into the bags, not noticing the Baby Things logo. She’d stuck the small bags into a larger one from the market. “Not that much cold stuff here. It’ll be okay while we eat.” They got back in the truck. “How does fast food sound, then?”
“Perfect.”
Blossom expected him to pick up some burgers and fries then head straight back to the ranch. Instead, after their stop at a local drive-through at the edge of town, Logan suddenly pulled off into a nearby parking area beside a swift-flowing stream.
“Let’s eat here. The sun is out, it’s one of the first decent days after winter and the temperature’s warming up—at least for an hour or so. In Kansas the weather can change on a dime. Come on,” he said, already halfway out of the truck. “The groceries can wait a bit longer.”
Blossom followed him, though she wasn’t sure it was such a good idea. In the barn yesterday she’d glimpsed another side of Logan, and this morning he’d been nothing but kind, so she wasn’t afraid of being alone with him.
As long as he didn’t ask her too many questions.
CHAPTER SIX
LOGAN WAS IN no hurry to get back to the ranch.
He’d decided to stop while they ate and make a little small talk to take his mind off things. He hadn’t been exactly charming when Blossom first stepped foot on the Circle H, and yesterday, when he saw Nicky, he’d acted even worse. He had to be careful not to let her see his interest in her—an interest he had no right to indulge—but he needed to take a breather before they drove back to the ranch and the gates closed behind him like a steel prison door.
The small roadside park had one table under a large cottonwood tree, so he set out their meal then sat beside Blossom on the bench. He wolfed down one cheeseburger then started on another. When he glanced sideways, he saw she hadn’t taken a bite of her grilled chicken sandwich.
“You okay?” It was becoming a habit to ask how she felt.
“Yes.” She was staring at the water. “I’m enjoying the view.”
He had to admit, there was a lot to like. The clear stream rushed past. Birds chirped and twittered among the trees. Sunshine slanted through the branches, gilding Blossom’s face with a soft gold, and the air smelled of flowers. Wild ones, probably, this time of year.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said.
“And you’re not eating.”
She took a small bite, as if to please him, which didn’t please him.
“What did you do in town?” he asked.
“I bought groceries.” He already knew that. “And window-shopped.”
When she didn’t say any more, he dug into his fries. Good, greasy food to fill a man’s stomach. He still hadn’t gotten that steak.
“The shops in Barren are pretty small,” he said. “Not like the stores in Philadelphia I bet.”
She sipped her soda. “I wasn’t much of a shopper, but Barren is a nice town.”
“I never thought of it as ‘nice,’” he said, smiling. Just as a bison calf wasn’t that cute to him. Yet Blossom appreciated both.
“You really don’t like it here.”
“Point for you,” he said. “The ranch, though, that’s where the tough memories are.” He slanted her another look. “I imagine you’ve got some bad ones, too. Or am I wrong?”
“A few” was all she said. “Do you like Wichita better?”
“I like my job. I always wanted to fly, ever since I was a kid.” He finished the fries then wadded up the wrapper. “We used to go to the air show in KC every year—when my folks were still alive—and I guess that’s where I caught the ‘bug.’” He paused, remembering. “In part because of my dad, too. He loved planes and passed that on to me. Too bad he didn’t live long enough. He would have been proud.”
“What happened to him?”
Logan looked away. “I was almost eight then, the day before my birthday. He and my mom had gone to a cattle auction near Denver—this was before Sam ran bison. He wasn’t in the picture yet. They started for home early not to miss my party the next day. Dad had bought me a new horse, the first I ever owned, and my grandma later told me he’d wanted to see my face when he led it out of the barn in front of all my friends. But on their way home, the weather turned bad. The roads iced over and then the snows came. By the time they were halfway, it had become a true blizzard.”
“They were in a car crash?”
He nodded. “With the roads like that... I’m pretty sure my mom begged him to pull off for the night. He could be stubborn, though. Like me sometimes,” he added. “Anyway. Some guy coming the other way hit them head-on.” Logan swallowed hard. “They were both killed. I’ve always thought—if he’d listened to her, or they hadn’t gone to that auction...but they were also far from the nearest town or a hospital. There was no LifeFlight helicopter. If there had been...” He trailed off. “Maybe that’s one reason I became a pilot. Didn’t help with Nicky, though. Years later, a flood at the ranch put me right back in that other time... Frankly, I’ve never been one for birthday parties ever since.” He pressed his lips tight then let out a breath. He didn’t usually spill his guts like this.
Time for a change of subject.
“You ever see the Blue Angels?”
“No. My dad was army.”
He grimaced. “Ouch. Well, we can’t all fly, but those navy guys were my heroes. Man, their precision, even the closest they get wingtip to wingtip until you’re sure they’ll collide, the deafening sound of that team just overhead as if you could reach out and touch them, the power of those engines screaming past...” He felt his face heat. “I sound like that eight-year-old kid. I guess I still am.”
“I’m sorry about your parents, Logan. So you took flying lessons once you were old enough?”
He forced a grin. “Nah. Decided to skip all that. Bought my pilot’s license from some website—and off I went, into the wild blue yonder. Learning on the job.” She’d said that to Grey the other day.
Her lips twitched. “You’re joking.”
He laughed. “Yeah. I am. I hope you don’t mind my teasing.”
She tilted her head. “I like it. I haven’t seen you really laugh before.”
“Every now and then,” he said then sobered. “Seriously. I did take lessons—a Christmas present one year from Sam.” His grandfather had wanted him—and Sawyer—to stay at the Circle H, but he wouldn’t deny Logan his dream. “Then I joined the military right after high school graduation. I wasn’t Blue Angels material, as it turned out, but I did all right.”
“Were you in combat?”
“From the air,” he said. “All that experience got me my civilian license and a college education, thanks to my veteran’s benefits. After I got my BA
in engineering, and had married Libby, I spent more time at the ranch while I looked for a job in Wichita. I’m working my way up there.”
“I bet you’re good.”
Warmth flowed through him. “Why do you say that?”
“I’ve seen you with the ranch hands—Willy and Tobias?—and you’re a natural leader. You maintain discipline.”
“Which you know something about.” It was a guess but not by much. She’d spoken of her father before.
Blossom admitted, “My dad ran a tight ship—or rather, house.”
“And your mother?”
Her gaze faltered. “She ran it for him when he wasn’t there. She was like his next in command. He’s retired now and they live in Alabama. Still, I think having to be so careful and precise over the years has finally worn her down.”
“What about you?”
“I never quite measured up,” she said, “and maybe that was my way of rebelling.” She almost grinned. “Maybe that’s why I keep making dinners you don’t want to eat.”
But he couldn’t let the subject go at that. “After you left home—?”
“I got a job, then shared an apartment in Philly.” She didn’t go on.
To give her time, Logan gathered up his trash. Was there a man in the picture? He dumped his bag and wrappers in the nearby garbage can then turned back to Blossom. She was still sitting there, her meal half-eaten, her hands twisting in her lap.
Today he’d seen a strange, and worrisome, combination. On the one hand, she was bold and funny and...dear, his grandmother would have said. On the other, she was sometimes like a stray dog that’d been kicked too often, abandoned in an animal shelter, cowering in a corner.
His hands fisted. A guy, he thought. Logan might have made a hash of his marriage and lost Nicky for now, but he’d never even thought of harming Libby. Or any woman. As any decent man would, especially one raised on Western values, all at once he wanted to protect her, too.
“I know about your father. Did someone else hurt you, Blossom?”
Her eyes looked wide, and almost teary. She put her hands together on the tabletop, like a child in school, and shrugged.