In the kitchen Grace filled a cup with water, then put it in the microwave. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I’m having real tea. Want some?”
That made him smile. “I’m more of a coffee guy.”
“I can make a fresh pot for you.”
“It was a stressful day. I need something stronger.”
She leaned back against the cupboard while waiting for the water to heat. “The pressure of playing Prince Adam?”
“Yes.”
But mostly he felt the strain of having to resist her. What combination of characteristics drew him to her like a moth to flame? Her hair? Pretty, but there were a lot of pretty brunettes out there. Her eyes? Hazel with flecks of gold and brown, colors that changed when she was happy, disappointed or just being thoughtful. Her smile? God knew he would do almost anything to get one out of her. The trim body? He highly approved. The package was attractive, but when you threw in that quirky personality...
The microwave went off and she pulled out the steaming mug, then dropped in a tea bag. She noticed him watching her, and the pulse in her neck jumped.
“You’re sure you don’t want some tea? It’s supposed to help you sleep.”
“I’ll pass.”
Logan grabbed a tumbler from the cupboard and a bottle of Scotch from above the refrigerator. After pouring a small amount into his glass, he took a sip. The liquid scalded all the way to his belly but did nothing to put out the fire burning there.
They were facing each other, not even standing all that close, but he swore he could feel the heat of her body, smell the scent of her skin.
“So...” She blew on the steam rising from her mug. “You did good today.”
“If you mean looking like a complete dope, then I agree with you.” He took another sip of Scotch.
“Yeah. Just so you know, the video will be on YouTube.” She grinned. “You might have felt like a dope, but to your daughter you hung the moon.”
“She’s five.”
“True. And she would have been ecstatic if you had sat there like a vegetable, or grunted like a caveman.”
That made him smile. “Prince Adam has standards after all. He would never stoop that low.”
“And that just highlights my point. Even playing make-believe you have principles.”
“Not being a Neanderthal isn’t all that high a bar,” he said wryly.
“Cassie’s bar is just you being there. So, I say again, you did good, Logan.” She sipped her tea, and a twinkle in her eyes turned them gold. “Did you notice how she pushed her advantage about learning to ride when you mentioned the horses?”
“Give her an inch and she’ll take a mile.” A chip off the old block, he thought. Grace gave him a kiss and he took her to bed. His gut knotted at the memory, part guilt, part hunger.
“You really should teach her,” Grace said. “Her mom lives in town, but this ranch is part of her world. Her heritage. How wonderful that she has it.”
“I’m not sure she’s the right age—”
“When did you learn to ride?”
“Twelve. Granddad taught me when we came to live here on the ranch.”
Grace was studying him. “Your face just lit up. Why? Was it learning to ride, or just being with your grandfather?”
“Both. He was tough as leather but a good man. He loved my mom and would do anything for her. And actually did when he took all of us in.” He tossed back the last of his Scotch, then stared into the bottom of the empty glass. “He said I took to riding a horse pretty well but it would have been easier and I’d have picked it up faster if I’d started when I was younger.”
“Like five?”
He met her gaze. “That’s just mean, piling on like that. Taking Cassie’s side.”
“You threw me a bone and I went with it.” She didn’t look sorry at all. “It’s something to think about.”
“It was a low blow using my words against me. And yet, wise. How did you get so smart, Grace Flynn?”
“A very good question.” She set her cup on the counter beside her and folded her arms over her chest. “I went from foster home to foster home and then a group placement. Unlike you, I didn’t have any family who taught me things.”
Logan realized that from time to time he felt sorry for himself because of the bad stuff that happened in his childhood. But when he thought about how much worse Grace had it growing up, he realized he had no right to self-pity. She sure didn’t go there. “The people who took you in must have been good.”
“Yeah. And I could say the same for you.” She gave him a pointed look. “Your mother and grandfather showed you right from wrong and how to apply those lessons to your own life.”
Logan set his glass on the island and toyed with it. “But there’s no escaping your DNA.”
Her eyes turned dark, more brown than green, a shade of hazel hidden until now. “At least you can put names and faces to your DNA. I can’t do that because no one wanted me.”
He saw the sadness and anger that she usually hid beneath a perky smile. Life had knocked her around, but she still managed to be sweet, smart and funny. And so desirable.
“I want you.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Logan wanted them back. “Grace, I didn’t—I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s all right. I can see the but in your eyes. And I get it. You’re fighting your DNA.”
“Giving in to it would make me just like him.”
“The man you detest,” she said.
He nodded. “By extension I would hate myself. And I don’t want to compromise you any more than I already have.”
For a split second her eyes said, “What if I want to be compromised?” Then she sighed and nodded. “I understand, Logan.”
“Okay. Good. I’m glad.”
“I’ll take my tea upstairs.” She picked up her cup and headed out of the room, then stopped. “You told Cassie you had to work late with the horses, but it’s my afternoon off. Will that mess you up?”
“No. Thanks for the reminder. I’ll rearrange my chore schedule. Cassie and I can go see a movie.”
“Okay, then. Good night.” She walked away without looking at him.
Logan stood there for a long time feeling like crap. Why did doing the right thing feel so damn wrong? The fact that Grace was so understanding about why he couldn’t touch her again should have been a relief.
It wasn’t. And the loneliness pouring through him was proof.
* * *
Grace realized an afternoon off wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She’d gotten used to doing things with Cassie, and now being on her own felt...lonely. There was something special about the little girl and she loved being with her. She’d have happily given up this time by herself, except that it was important for Cassie to be with her father.
Today Grace had explored a little more of Blackwater Lake and liked the community even more. In a refurbished barn painted red with white trim, there was a thrift/antiques store on the side of the road as you drove into town. The items inside were all donations and the profit went into The Sunshine Fund, which helped people going through a rough patch financially to get back on their feet.
Now she was browsing the shops on Main Street. April Kennedy’s photography store showcased pictures the owner had taken of local scenery—the lake, mountains and meadows of wildflowers. She’d chatted with April, whose biggest problem was who would be taking the wedding photos when she married Sheriff Will Fletcher in a couple of months. Quality problem from Grace’s perspective.
She’d spent a lot of time trying to decide whether she liked the black-and-white or color prints better. And all that thinking had made her hungry. Now it was too late for lunch and too early for dinner, so she decided the perfect compromise
was ice cream. One perk of being an adult was that you could make your own decision about spoiling your appetite. Not that anyone had cared all that much about her appetite when she was a kid.
Potter’s Ice Cream Parlor was close and she walked to it, feeling virtuous about burning off calories before indulging. Her thighs weren’t rock hard, but no one was perfect. She walked into the cheerful little shop adjacent to the Harvest Café. Just in front of her was the cold case with a glass front where the ice cream was displayed.
Little circular tables and chairs with the backs shaped like hearts filled the center of the store for customers to sit and eat. Prints of various sundaes and multicolored sprinkles were on the walls. The place was empty except for a young mother with two children, one in an infant carrier. And she looked familiar.
She was Logan’s cousin. Grace had met her on the Fourth of July here in town. “Ellie?”
The woman turned. It took a beat or two, but Ellie McKnight finally smiled when recognition dawned. “Grace. Hi. Sorry. Took me a second to put your face and name together. I used to be quicker than that. I think it’s called mom-brain.”
“Probably has more to do with sleep deprivation. Your baby boy is beautiful.” She smiled at the sleeping infant in the carrier.
“Thank you.”
“Honestly, I’m surprised you even remember me. You get extra points for that because it was so brief and pretty chaotic during the Independence Day celebration.”
“In a town like Blackwater Lake it’s the new faces that stand out. Plus you work for my cousin. Of course I remember you.”
“That’s very nice of you to say even if it’s not true,” Grace said.
The teenage girl working behind the counter came out of a back room. Her name tag said Tiffani.
“Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was here. What can I get you?”
“Can I have vanilla, Mommy?” her little girl asked.
“Of course, sweetie.”
Ellie gave her order, then looked sheepishly at Grace. Her voice was too low for the child to hear. “I know I’m a horrible mom. Ice cream so close to dinner is bad. But I’m starving and I know Leah is, too. I think breaking a rule every once in a while is not an official Mom fail. In fact, maybe it’s okay not to be rigid all the time.”
“I agree.”
But Logan wouldn’t. Relaxing control meant he was turning into his father. It was black or white. No gray area. No wiggle room.
Tiffani set a small cup with a scoop of vanilla on the counter. “Here’s one.”
“Thanks.” Ellie took it and walked over to a table with the kids. She set the infant seat on the floor, then lifted Leah to a chair and put the ice cream in front of her. “Be right back, love.”
“Okay, Mommy.” The little girl took the plastic spoon and started to eat.
When Ellie returned to the glass case, another cup of ice cream was ready for her. She paid the bill and picked up her treat. “Where’s Cassie?”
“It’s my afternoon off,” Grace said. “That means father/daughter movie day because heaven forbid he try something new with her.”
“Is there a problem?” Ellie looked sympathetic.
“Did I say that last part out loud?” Accidentally on purpose. Classic passive-aggressive. Grace sighed. “No. Everything is fine. Well, it’s not really fine, but it’s none of my business.”
“That sounds like something that needs some discussion,” the other woman commented. She looked at the cup in her hands. “But there isn’t anything ice cream and girl talk can’t fix. Come on over and sit with us when you get yours.”
Ellie walked away before Grace could politely decline the invitation, and by the time she’d paid for her salted caramel and vanilla sundae, talking seemed like an excellent idea. Plus she really liked this woman.
Grace sat down across from her. Leah was between them, completely absorbed in alternately eating her ice cream and playing with it.
“So,” Ellie said, “how are you liking it here in Blackwater Lake?”
Grace knew that was a general lead-in to talk about Logan, but she decided to go with it. “I’m very impressed. I saw the thrift store today and love the idea of funneling that money into a fund that helps people.”
“Yeah. It’s a really special project. My brother Sam owns Hart Financial and is in charge of administering the fund.”
“Don’t you have two other brothers?”
“Yes. Lincoln is in real estate development with my husband, Alex. Cal owns Hart Energy. They both recently relocated here from Dallas.” Ellie’s voice was filled with pride as she mentioned her family.
“You’re very lucky to have siblings.” Grace couldn’t stop the spurt of envy, so she might as well cop to it. “I’m an only child.”
“I am very grateful for my brothers,” she admitted. “That’s not always how I felt when we were growing up, however. But the three of them have had my back more than once. And I hope I’ve done the same for them.”
“That’s nice.”
“And speaking of family,” Ellie said. “How are you liking working for my cousin Logan?”
“Cassie is a sweetie. She makes the job easy. In fact, it doesn’t feel like work.”
“So, your reservations regarding the situation are all about Logan?”
Grace was kind of hoping they were going to skip over her little outburst. “Oh, I’m really not entitled to an opinion.”
“And yet you have one.” Ellie smiled. “What was it you said? Something about him not trying something new. There was a tone in your voice, and I’d bet you have a lot to say on the subject.”
“That’s the thing. I’ve already talked to him about shaking things up, making Cassie part of what he does on the ranch. But he’s one stubborn cowboy.”
“It’s in the genes.” Ellie noticed something in Grace’s expression. “What did I say?”
“Do you know Logan well?”
“We’re first cousins, but our fathers couldn’t be more different. Logan’s mother left with her children because Uncle Foster is a serial cheater. We didn’t see them for years after that. But now we’re all here in Blackwater Lake. We’ve reached out, met him at Bar None, the local pub, trying to reconnect.”
“He actually showed up?”
“It was kind of a surprise to us, too,” Ellie admitted. “I was hopeful that his presence meant he had an open mind about being part of the family again. Apparently he was just there in body but not in spirit because he’s back to keeping to himself.”
“Really?”
Ellie nodded. “We make sure to invite him to all the family holiday gatherings, but he never shows. And his siblings kind of follow his example.”
“I guess the wounds their father inflicted are too deep. Being homeless had to have been tough.”
“So you know about that?”
“Yes.” Grace sighed. “And I met Foster Hart.”
Ellie’s eyes widened. “When?”
“The day after Tracy’s wedding. He showed up unexpectedly at the ranch to see Cassie.”
“How did that go?”
Grace would never forget the fury in Logan’s eyes or the warning in his voice. “Not a Kumbaya moment.”
“I can’t really blame Logan. Uncle Foster brought it all on himself. Actions and consequences.”
“I get that. But the funny thing is,” Grace said, “it looked to me as if he’s genuinely sorry about alienating his son. And he seems to really want to see his granddaughter. Get to know her.”
“What did Logan say?”
“Putting it mildly, he said that Foster shouldn’t hold his breath about that ever happening.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully. “So it’s not just my brothers and me Logan is rejecting.”
“Apparently not.”
“I get why he’s
angry at his dad. What they went through before settling with their grandfather here in Blackwater Lake was pretty terrible. But the rest of the family didn’t hurt him. We’re trying to embrace him.”
“Like I said. The wounds go pretty deep.”
“So he’s refusing to have anything to do with anyone named Hart except his brothers and sister,” Ellie mused. “I know he goes by his mother’s maiden name of Hunt, but I was hoping time was smoothing the rough edges of his resentment. It would seem that’s not the case.”
“On the upside, he’s trying not to be like his father. Everything he does is about protecting Cassie.”
“That’s all well and good,” Ellie said. “But as she gets older, she’s going to want answers about why she has relatives close by but never sees them. It’s not necessary to protect her from us. We would never hurt her.”
“I’m sure he knows that on some level. And really, the whole movie thing is about limiting his interaction with Cassie so he doesn’t hurt her somehow. He doesn’t trust his DNA. And it’s not just about his daughter. He’s insulating himself from anything that could touch him emotionally.”
“Including you?”
“What?” Grace met the other woman’s gaze.
“If you were talking to one of my brothers they would miss it because they’re men after all. But you can’t hide it from another woman.” Ellie’s voice was gentle. “You have feelings for Logan.”
“Not on purpose.”
“It never is.” Ellie’s tone was sympathetic. “And?”
“He’s so worried about becoming his father that he completely rejects feeling at all. Except for Cassie.”
“Oh, Grace—”
She half listened to the other woman’s supportive words, but her mind was spinning with what she’d just heard. Things with Logan were worse than she’d thought. She knew he was keeping her at arm’s length, but she was the hired help. He wouldn’t hit on her and risk being like his father.
Just What the Cowboy Needed Page 13