by Leigh Riker
“Uncouth,” Logan heard Jacques murmur.
“Yeah? Well, my mother didn’t raise no fancy pants. I’m proud of it.”
“That is obvious. You practically frightened Miss Blossom off with such crude manners—in the barn, too.”
“What?”
A different voice piped up. “Darn straight.”
“Tobias, this is between me and...” Logan could almost hear the familiar sniff from Jacques. “...William,” he finished.
Another object of some kind hit the bunkhouse floor with a thud.
“There. That’s what I think of your prissy ways. Take that.”
“Mademoiselle Blossom did not welcome your ‘attentions’!”
Logan’s gut tightened.
“How did you know—?” Willy’s voice rose with every word.
“He wasn’t even here then,” Tobias put in.
“I heard it from Miss Blossom herself. While we were cooking. She told me how you cornered her in the tack room one night.”
“Why would she bring that up?”
“So you admit it.”
“She’s a good-looking woman. I’m something of a ladies’ man—”
“You are a worthless cur!”
Logan’s eyebrows flew upward. He had his hand on the bunkhouse door latch when the door suddenly crashed open. In a ball of rage, Willy, Tobias and Jacques tumbled out into the darkness, past Logan.
They knocked him off the short stoop, but none of them paid any attention to him. In the yard they became a knot of angry bodies, fists flying, their grunts and the sounds of flesh against bone filling the air. He couldn’t tell who was punching whom.
Logan waded into the fray. “Cut it out! Now!” He hauled Willy then Tobias off Jacques. Logan waved toward the nearest tree. “Over there, both of you! Stay put.” He leaned down to help Jacques to his feet.
“Merci, Monsieur Hunter.”
“Don’t merci me. Who started this?”
“As if he doesn’t know,” Willy muttered.
“You attacked me!” Jacques drew himself up to his full height. Blood trickled from his nose, which Logan could see even in the dark, then down his chin to drip onto his chef’s tunic. “You are an evil dog, William. Don’t touch me again. Do you hear? Jamais!”
Willy sank down by the tree trunk. He rubbed his jaw. He had a rapidly blackening eye. “What does that mean?”
“Never.” Logan had picked up quite a bit of fractured French in the short time Jacques had been here. It got more frequent whenever he was upset, which seemed to be half the time. Logan shot a look at Tobias, who was cradling his arm against his side. “You in one piece?”
“I think my wing’s broken.”
Logan shook his head. “I ought to fire the three of you. Willy, what was that Jacques said about you and Blossom?”
“I didn’t touch her,” Willy said.
“Well, that’s one for you.” He took a breath. “But if I hear a whisper about you shoving yourself at her, I’ll—”
“She gave me that come-on look, boss. The same one you give her—”
Logan stomped over to him. He balled his fist. “Shut your mouth, Willy.”
“Yeah? Or you’ll shut it for me?”
He pulled him to his feet. “Go inside. Put some ice on that eye—and don’t let me see you again tonight.”
“How ’bout I just take off, then?”
Logan ignored him. He knelt to examine Tobias’s arm. “I don’t think it’s broken, but we’d better get you to the doctor in the morning. Too bad the clinic’s not open now. At the least, you’ll probably be in a sling.” He rose with a look of disgust. “A fine lot you are. Fighting like a bunch of schoolyard bullies. Willy, I expect you to check the herd first thing tomorrow—no matter how that eye feels. I don’t want to hear Blossom’s name from you again, understand? Keep away from her. I’ll take care of Tobias.”
Tobias grunted. “I’m tougher than this arm, boss.”
“That’s what you think.” His face glowed oyster white in the dark. Logan turned toward Jacques, who had dropped down onto the bunkhouse stoop and was examining himself by the light from inside. “What’s your damage?”
“I believe I will be...bien. Demain.”
“That so?” He had a big bruise on one cheek and a split lip.
“Oui. Vraiment.”
At that moment, Sam called out from the kitchen door. Blossom stood right behind him, apparently drawn by the commotion. “Logan?” they both said.
“Don’t come out here. Everything’s under control.”
Or was that, as Blossom had said, only an illusion? Willy skirted past Jacques, then limped into the bunkhouse with Tobias beside him, holding his injured arm. The door slammed shut behind them.
Logan looked at Jacques. “If I were you, Jack, I’d sleep in the house tonight. I wouldn’t stay out here with them.” If they started up again, he would fire them all.
Jacques lumbered to his feet. “I will not stay in the house or anywhere else. I cannot work with those...animals. I quit.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LATER THAT NIGHT Blossom sat with Logan on the front porch glider, the stars overhead in full display. The glider creaked a little, and she burrowed deeper into the too-big sweatshirt she’d borrowed from Logan. The spring temperatures were still cool, especially at night.
“Do you know what Jacques said to me before he left? He told me, basically, that I’m a more competent person than I give myself credit for.”
“Jacques was right.”
“Being here has helped. So have you.”
What if she didn’t have to leave? As she should have done much sooner, she finally told Logan about her call to Tammy the night she’d met the stranger. Had she only put herself in greater danger then?
“I’ve been thinking ever since about that—and Ken.”
“Don’t,” he said but Blossom went on.
“At first, he seemed like the perfect guy, so different from my father.” She gazed up at the stars. “But then he turned from Prince Charming into a—I don’t know how to say this—a worse man than the one I grew up with.”
“I didn’t help matters that first day or so,” Logan insisted.
Blossom shook her head. “You just tried to keep me from getting hurt by the bison calf, tossed against a tree like Sam.”
“Yeah, and what about the time I all but forced you to go to Doc’s office?” he pointed out.
But Blossom had stopped listening. She’d felt a stronger kick against her palm. Logan must have noticed and covered the back of her hand with his.
“Wow,” he murmured, pushing the glider a little with one foot.
“He’s getting stronger.”
He smiled in the darkness. “She’s going to be a barrel racer for sure. With legs like that, she has to be. I’m thinking Ginger for her first horse—”
“That’s a nice idea.” Blossom pressed her lips tight. She had no business spinning fantasies, or dreams, about the baby, girl or boy. About Logan.
For a few more moments, she sat there anyway, feeling the warmth of his solid shoulder against her more delicate one—the shoulder Ken had slammed into a wall one night not that long ago—before she put distance between them.
All at once the remembered feel of Logan’s mouth on hers and the way he’d said I really missed you was replaced by another thought of Ken.
“Tammy told me Ken hired a private detective who found that man who bought my Lexus—the first car I sold after I left.”
“Could he find the others?” Farther west, closer to the Circle H.
“I traded with people who didn’t care about transferring a title—if they even had one in the first place. I always paid cash, but—”
Logan stroked her cheek. “Then I can’t imagine how he—how anyone—could track you here. Barren’s a small town, Blossom. There’s no reason to even drive through—”
“Ken has his ways. I guess I should have changed my name. Gotten contacts—green instead of brown eyes. Dyed my hair. But at first, I thought if I could get far enough away, he’d never find me.”
Logan drew one of her curls through his fingers. “I like your hair the way it is.”
A rush of heat streaked through her, but Blossom moved away from his touch. “You have enough to worry about with Nick. Libby’s already suspicious about...us, and I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your custody suit. That’s what matters.”
“I never know what she’ll come up with next.”
“Then you have to be extra careful. So do I.”
“Blossom, what are you going to do after your baby comes? You can leave now, if you’ve decided you have to, but later on?”
“That’s what Shadow asked me.”
“A child changes everything. From the second I first saw Nicky, I became a father above everything else. It will be the same for you.”
Logan leaned closer. In the distance a horse whinnied. A spring frog chirped near the pond. “Once the baby is born, you won’t have the freedom to run—if that’s even the word for it. You’ll have to stay where you are, wherever that is, and in doing so, alone, you’ll be risking your child’s well-being and safety.”
“Shadow said that, too.”
He sat back. For a while longer, they studied the stars. “Doesn’t really change anything right now, does it? For you and me.”
“Change what?” Blossom asked, although she already knew.
She thought he whispered this, then he moved closer again and his mouth was on hers. His kiss was sweet, and all too brief, before he eased back to set the glider moving. “I think you should stay, Blossom. If Ken or that private eye does find you here, we’ll take care of it.”
“You bet we will.” Neither of them had heard Sam at the screen door. His voice startled Blossom and Logan, shattering their brief romantic interlude.
“How long have you been standing there?” Logan asked.
“Long enough to see the way of things.” With a satisfied smile, he turned back into the lighted house, and Logan shook his head.
Blossom had another dream in her mind. What if she and Logan could make a new, far better life together—one in which Ken would have no part? Then she and her baby would be safe. But could she take that risk? Stop running?
* * *
BLOSSOM COULDN’T GET to sleep. Well after midnight, hours after she and Logan had sat on the porch glider, quietly talking, then sharing more kisses after Sam had suddenly appeared then left, she lay staring at the white globe of the ceiling light in her room.
Tammy had given her a warning she couldn’t ignore. Blossom had initially put her in danger, which was cowardly. The problem was hers, not her friend’s. And Jacques had made her see how much she’d changed, how capable she had become. Maybe she wasn’t the best cook in the world, and never would be, but she knew how to do other things and do them well. With Ken’s impossible standards, she’d never been able to measure up. Maybe her own were enough.
Logan’s earlier words echoed inside her head. The Circle H isn’t a bad place to make a stand, if it comes to that. And now tonight, We’ll take care of it.
Yet the first step was up to her.
In the darkness Blossom flung aside the covers, got out of bed and fumbled her way to the door. Being careful not to make a sound as she crept out of her room across from Logan’s, she tiptoed down the hall to the steps. Breathing a little easier because she hadn’t wakened anyone, she went through the living room, along the downstairs hall and into Sam’s office, which was where Logan managed the books now.
She sat in the worn leather desk chair and considered using the aged computer, but Logan had logged in for her before and she didn’t know the password, and she wanted this connection to be more direct, more human. From her, and her alone.
Logan had left his cell lying on the desk. For another second she hesitated, her hand hovering just above the phone. It must also have a passcode, and if she guessed at too many combinations of numbers, the security measures would lock out Logan, too. If, instead, she was successful, she’d only be leading Ken to Logan.
Blossom reached for the landline phone on the other side of the computer. And, with a quick prayer for courage, she made two calls.
The first was to Ken. At one time she’d wanted to forget his number. Now, within seconds, she’d reached him—or rather, his answering machine. For an instant Blossom froze. She could hang up, try his cell, but this would do. Her hand shook, and so did her voice when she tested it before the beep sounded to record her message.
Blossom took a deep breath to steady it.
“Kenneth, it’s me.” Deliberately, she’d used his full name. “Don’t ever bother Tammy again. No matter what you do, I’m staying right where I am. I’m outside of Barren, Kansas. Have a nice...life.”
Blossom waited another second then hung up. She put the old phone—probably a first-generation cordless—back in its charging cradle then lifted it again.
Tammy didn’t answer, but it was the middle of the night, so she left that message, too.
“Don’t be afraid,” Blossom said. “This is just to let you know I’m okay and so are you. Ken won’t contact you again. I’ve told him where I am. I need to deal with him myself, Tammy. I understand why you don’t want to hear from me again, but...thank you for being such a good friend.”
With one hand on the silent phone as if to touch the woman who had been her only connection to her former life, she sat there until a slow smile began to form.
She’d done it. Taken that first step.
Until she faced Ken, she would never be free.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LOGAN HELD HIS breath while Libby lectured him. To his amazement, after their talk at the birthday party, she’d actually brought Nicky to the Circle H again, though now she was clearly having second thoughts.
The quiet time he’d spent with Blossom on the porch still made Logan smile. The past three years had been hard ones, and that night he’d felt like a new man again. Didn’t he deserve some happiness?
“Nothing will happen, Libby. You were a reasonable person last time.” And she’d almost seemed to enjoy the birthday party. “I promised him a picnic and I don’t want to disappoint him, certainly not for some lame excuse that he might hurt himself.”
“It’s this ranch—it’s just full of potential for tragedy.”
You don’t see any rain, do you? Any funnel clouds?
“Nicky can ride with me. He did fine in the arena with the other kids—”
“That’s different from being outdoors on some trail.”
“It’s not far.” He paused. “You and I used to go down by the pond, beside the willows there.”
Her tone hardened. “Sounds harmless, doesn’t it?”
Logan held her gaze. “Remember, I asked you to marry me there.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You even got down on one knee. But harmless? I said yes because I was young. Foolish.” She didn’t mention love. Despite her words he could hear the slight give in her tone as if she’d run out of energy to quarrel with him.
“Libby, you did a good thing in letting Nicky come for the party.”
“Because I was here, too. Keeping an eye on him.”
“Now he wants to be with me for the day.”
“And Blossom,” she added.
He stared at her. “You’re really jealous.”
“Maybe. A little, but not for the reason you think. And Nick does seem to adore her.”
“Then
why are you so reluctant to leave Nicky with us on his own?” Logan had never been able to figure her out.
She looked down at the ground between them. “Because, if you must know, whenever he’s away from me, I remember that I almost lost him once.” Her voice thickened. “I feel like I’ve lost him all over again.”
He rubbed the nape of his neck. “Aw, Libby.”
“True. So now you know.”
To his relief, she finally gestured toward her car and Nicky clambered out. She kissed him goodbye with a big hug then said a few words in his ear, of warning, Logan supposed, before she drove off.
Logan turned to Nicky, but with only a quick “Hi, Daddy,” as he passed by, he ran toward the barn.
Logan stopped him. “That kitten isn’t coming with us,” he said. “She’d only get lost in the grass or run into trouble with the bison. She has to stay here, buddy.”
Nicky’s jaw set. “She wants to come.”
“Sorry, those are my terms.”
As if he hadn’t heard, Nicky headed for the barn again. And Blossom appeared on the back porch with a wooden picnic basket. Logan recognized it as the one his mother and grandmother had used when he was still a boy—before he’d lost them. Today he’d show Nicky and Blossom the kind of relaxed, peaceful afternoon that had been missing from all their lives.
She came down the steps then glanced at Libby’s retreating car.
“Where’s the fire?”
“Anywhere Libby goes.” He was about to say something more when Nicky raced back from the barn with the kitten galloping behind. In his boots, he clumped to a stop in front of her.
“Blossom! Hi!”
She handed Logan the basket then hugged Nicky. “Hi, little cowboy.”
“Uncle Grey calls me that, too. Daddy says we can have a picnic. We can ride there.” Wearing jeans, a checked shirt and a straw cowboy hat, he planted both hands on his hips, glanced at the kitten then tried again. “Can we take Blossom? The two Blossoms?”