Cassie's Cowboy Daddy (5 page)

Sitting on a bale of hay outside the mare's enclosure, Logan took his Resistol off and ran his hands through his hair. Kissing Cassie last night had been the biggest and most enjoyable mistake he'd ever made.

And he'd paid for it. Hell, he was still paying for it.

He'd spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning until just before dawn when he'd finally gotten up, dressed and left the house before Cassie had a chance to come downstairs to fix breakfast. It wasn't some
thing he was proud of, but he just hadn't wanted to face her or the temptation she posed. That's why he'd gone to the bunkhouse for breakfast. But he'd been so irritable that his ranch hands Jock, Tucker and Ray had threatened to quit, and Gabe had gotten so thoroughly exasperated, he'd quit for the third time this week and refused to sit next to Logan at the table.

And all of his misery and uncharacteristic aggravation could be traced back to one source. Cassie Wellington.

What the hell had gotten into him last night, anyway? Why had he lost all control and given in to the temptation of kissing her?

All he'd succeeded in doing was losing an entire night's sleep and making himself miserable with wanting things he knew damned good and well he could never have.

He glanced up to see Ginny slip through the double doors and head for the house, while Hank picked straw from his hair and buttoned his shirt. When thoughts of spending time in the hayloft with Cassie invaded his mind, Logan gritted his teeth and swore.

“You look like hell,” Hank said, swaggering up the barn aisle. “What did you do, go down to Buffalo Gals and tie one on last night?”

Logan shook his head. “I wish I had. I'd probably feel better.” He jammed his hat on his head and met his friend's curious gaze. “I've got to get her off the Lazy Ace.”

“Who?”

“You know who.” Logan propped his forearms on his knees and stared at his boots. “She's turning the house into a spit-and-polished showplace that
looks like a picture out of one of those women's magazines. And you can't walk on the floors. I damned near busted my ass twice last night trying to go upstairs to bed.”

Sitting down beside him, Hank shrugged. “But it smells real nice.”

Logan jerked his head up to meet his friend's philosophical gaze. “It smells like women.”

“I know,” Hank said, grinning.

Logan scowled, but the man's grin just widened. “I'm not going to be able to count on your help getting Cassie and her brood to leave, am I?”

“Nope.” Hank laughed. “I'm determined to see that Ginny stays right here with me.”

“You're setting yourself up for a fall, old buddy.”

Hank's expression grew serious. “I don't think so, Logan. But at least I've got the guts to take that gamble. What about you?”

If they hadn't been friends since grade school, Logan would have hauled off and slugged the man. “Dammit, Hank, you know what happens to women out here. They either go stir-crazy or wind up dying well before their time.”

Hank shook his head. “Look at old lady Watkins. She's eighty-four and still goin' strong.” He paused, then in a low voice added, “What happened to your mom was just one of those freak things, Logan. There was no way of knowin' she'd catch pneumonia, or that a blizzard would keep your dad from gettin' her to town for help.”

“She was only thirty-three. That's too young to die.” Logan's gut twisted. “If we'd lived closer to town, she'd still be alive.”

“You don't know that,” Hank said reasonably. “People in town get sick and die just the same as folks who live out here.” He took a deep breath, then met Logan's gaze. “Let it go. No matter what your dad said about her dying as a result of pulling you out of that pond, you didn't cause your mom's death.”

Rationally, Logan knew Hank was right. But the thought of Cassie or one of her cute little kids becoming ill and him not being able to get medical attention for them made his stomach churn. “I've got to get her to see reason.”

“You know, I think you're just feelin' a little crowded right now,” Hank said. “You'll get used to it.” He chuckled. “Who knows? You might even get to like the idea of havin' them around.”

“No, I won't.” Logan shook his head. His peace of mind just couldn't afford it. “And I for damned sure don't like the way she's decorating the place. I liked Morty hanging over the mantel.”

Hank grinned. “I figured you'd take it hard about havin' Morty and the dogs stored in the attic.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “You know, you do have another option.”

“What's that?” Logan couldn't think of any, but he was more than willing to listen to any suggestion that would get Cassie and her family out of his house.

“Well, I'm the foreman of this spread, but I've always lived up here.”

“It didn't make sense to have you live down there in the foreman's cabin when I've got five bed
rooms.” Logan brightened as he began to understand what Hank was driving at. “The cabin.”

Nodding, Hank smiled. “Yep. It needs some repairs, but I'd say we could have it ready in a few weeks.”

The more Logan thought about it, the better he liked the idea. It was only a quarter of a mile to the foreman's cabin. Cassie would be far enough away for his peace of mind, but close enough that he could keep an eye on her and the twins in case of an emergency. She could summon his help if she needed it, but not be underfoot all the time, driving him to the brink of insanity with her tempting little curves.

With any luck, she might even come to her senses well before the first snow and be safely back in St. Louis, content to receive her quarterly reports and dividend checks. Or better yet, maybe she'd decide she'd rather have the money all at once and take him up on his offer to buy out her share. That way, he'd still be able to carry through with his plan to give Hank an interest in the ranch.

While he worked on getting the cabin ready, he'd have something to keep his mind off Cassie and the way her kisses lit a fire in his blood and turned his brains to pure mush.

“That's perfect,” Logan said, feeling better than he had in the past three days. He rose to his feet and walked determinedly up the barn aisle. “Come on, Hank. Let's get down there and see what it'll take to get it ready.”

“But what about the chores?” Hank asked, following Logan out into the ranch yard.

“I'll pay the boys extra to take up the slack,”
Logan said, climbing into his truck. “You and I have a job to do. Now, get in the truck. I'd like to be down in Bear Creek by noon to pick up what we'll need to get started.”

 

Careful of each step he took on the highly polished floor, Logan made it to the stairs without incident. It was getting close to midnight and he was bone tired, but plans to renovate the foreman's cabin were well under way and the satisfaction he felt was more than worth the fatigue.

He and Hank had spent the better part of the morning measuring, jotting down the supplies they'd need and cleaning out the dirt and cobwebs that had collected in the log structure over the years. After a trip down to Bear Creek, they'd returned with enough lumber and shingles to get started making the most immediate repairs. The rest of the supplies were on order and would be delivered in a few days.

As he passed Cassie's room, Logan wondered briefly how she'd spent her day. She'd pretty much finished ruining everything downstairs with all the lace and ruffles. All except for his office. He'd made sure to keep that door securely locked.

He shuddered to think what she'd do in there. Most likely the bear, lynx and rattlesnake would wind up joining Morty in the attic. Logan chuckled. Of course, to move them out she'd have to go back in the office, and after her reaction to the stuffed animals that first night, he seriously doubted that would happen.

Opening the door to his room, he shrugged out of his shirt and threw it at the chair, then flicked open
the snap at the waistband of his jeans. He'd get a fresh set of clothes, take a quick shower, then get some sleep.

He started across the room to the dresser. Only, the dresser wasn't where it was supposed to be. “What the hell?”

He moved to reach for the lamp beside the bed, but hadn't gone more than a few feet before he banged his shin on a sharp corner and ran his toes into an immovable object. Pain shot through his foot and leg, and he hopped around cursing like a drunken sailor. When he finally found the edge of the bed to sit down and rub his throbbing toes and aching shin, he discovered it was on the opposite side of the room from where it was supposed to be.

Waving his arms around in the dark, Logan finally located the lamp on the bedside table and switched it on. He cut loose with a fresh wave of cusswords that would have blued the hair on every little old lady in the state of Wyoming and probably half of Montana.

“She's gone too damned far this time.” He ground out the words, rising to his feet. First it was Morty and the dogs. Now this. She'd not only rearranged his furniture, she'd put some of those damned crushed weeds she called potpourri somewhere in the room. He couldn't see it, but he could damned well smell it.

What was next? Would she be trying to rearrange the plumbing in the bathroom tomorrow?

Gingerly putting weight on his injured foot, he limped out into the hall. It was time somebody told Ms. Busybody to leave things the hell alone.

C
assie awoke to someone pounding on her door and bellowing like an enraged bull. Switching on the bedside lamp, she kicked the covers aside and jumped to her feet. If Logan Murdock woke the twins, she'd have his head on a silver platter.

Throwing open the door, she hissed, “Lower your voice before you wake the girls.” She stopped short when she saw the dark scowl lining his brow. “Is something wrong?”

“You could say that.” He gave her a tight smile. “You've gone too far this time, lady,” he added, his voice sounding a lot like a growling animal.

She took a step back. “What do you mean?”

“First there was Morty and the dogs.”

“M-Morty?”

“I let that slide.” He advanced a step.

She retreated half a step. “Wh-what dogs?”

“But not this.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, sidestepping one of the twins' teddy bears lying on the hardwood floor. Had Logan slipped downstairs and hit his head? Was that why he was being irrational? Why did he think she'd know anything about some man named Morty and his dogs?

“You know damn good and well what I'm talking about,” he said, moving forward.

“No, I don't,” she said, retreating another step.

He advanced. “You invaded my personal space. What the hell made you think you could rearrange my bedroom?”

“You told me I could.”

“Like hell I did.” He started toward her again, but suddenly stumbled and, lunging forward, crashed into her, knocking her off her feet in a flying tackle.

Cassie had no time to react as Logan's arms closed around her a split second before they landed on the bed in an undignified heap. Flat on her back with him on top of her, she lay in stunned silence for several seconds as she tried to gather her wits about her.

All that registered was the fact that Logan's weight pressed her into the mattress, his hard muscles touching her from shoulders to knees. The feel of his bare chest against her cheek, the sound of his rather unsteady heartbeat beneath her ear and the mingled scents of leather and man assaulted her senses, making her traitorous body tingle to life.

“Are you all right?” he asked, leaning back to look down at her.

“Yes.”

He glanced over the side of the bed. “What's a teddy bear doing in the middle of the floor?”

She blinked. How was she supposed to form a rational answer with his warm breath whispering over her cheek and his lips hovering just above hers? “It fell from the shelf…when you pounded on the door.”

Logan looked down at the woman in his arms. Her soft body felt good beneath his. Real good. When her expressive green gaze met his, he groaned. Along with stunned disbelief and apprehension, he saw the same awareness that gripped him, watched it turn into the undeniable spark of desire as she stared up at him.

He knew for a fact that he'd lost what little sense he had left, but as the blood rushed from his brain to the region below his belt, he could no more stop himself from kissing her than he could keep the sun from rising in the east each morning. Besides, kissing Cassie was much more appealing than continuing to read her the riot act over a damned stuffed moose and rearranged furniture.

Lowering his mouth to hers, he heard her soft intake of breath, felt her body tense slightly beneath his. But when their lips met, she circled his neck with her arms and melted into him. At the small gesture of acceptance, fire streaked through him and he came to full erection. She might make him mad enough to chew nails in two, but he wanted her with a fierceness that knocked the wind out of him.

He savored her lips and memorized their softness, adding an urgency to the hunger building inside him.
When a tiny moan of pleasure escaped her, he accepted the invitation and pushed past her parted lips to explore her more completely. She tasted of minty toothpaste and sweet, willing woman.

Her tongue met his in a tentative mating, and Logan felt as if he'd been handed a rare gift. She'd never admit it, and maybe she didn't even realize it herself, but Cassie was letting him know without words that she wanted his kiss, wanted to taste his passion as much as he wanted the same from her.

He loosened his hold on her to run his hands along her sides to the swell of her breasts. Her thin nightshirt was the only barrier between them and he could feel her nipples peak in anticipation of his touch. The knowledge sent a fresh surge of need straight to his groin.

Rubbing the tight nubs with his thumbs, he kissed his way to the rapid pulse at the base of her throat. “Feel good, sugar?”

“Mmmm.”

He lowered his head and touched first one taut peak, then the other with his tongue. Her nails scored his bare back and she moaned softly. Impatient to taste the puckered flesh without the hindrance of the thin cotton fabric, he reached down and lifted the tail of the shirt to expose her bare breasts to his appreciative gaze.

“Beautiful,” he said, taking her into his mouth.

As he teased and coaxed her, she arched her back and threaded her fingers through his hair. Shifting his position, he pressed the hard ridge of his erection against her thigh, allowing her to feel what she did to him, how much she made him want her.

Never in his entire life had he been aroused faster or wanted a woman more than he did Cassie at that very moment. And not just physically.

Well, hell! Why did he have to have that grand revelation now? He had no business longing for the things Cassie made him want. Things he knew damned good and well he could never have.

Rolling to her side, he pulled her nightshirt down to cover her breasts, then sat up. “Look, I…”

What was he going to say? What could he say? He for damned sure wasn't going to tell her he was sorry, because for all the hell he was going through now, her soft flesh beneath his and her sweet taste on his lips were worth whatever torture he had to endure.

“I'll…uh, see you in the morning,” he finally said, rising to his feet.

He didn't look back as he crossed the room. He couldn't. If he did, he wasn't sure he could walk away before he did something that both of them would end up regretting. And he couldn't bear the thought of Cassie having regrets about making love with him.

Cassie watched Logan walk to the door without a backward glance. He closed it behind him with a quiet click and only then did she manage to get her lungs to take in air again.

What in heaven's name had gotten into her? She'd never in her entire life been the passionate type. Nor had she ever questioned that lovemaking was anything but mildly pleasurable for a woman. Not even in the early days of her marriage when love was new and she'd been blinded to Stan's selfish nature had
she felt such intense sensations or longed for more. But all Logan had to do was touch her and she seemed to lose every ounce of common sense she possessed and turn into a bundle of wanton need.

Her cheeks burned as she remembered clutching his head to her, reveling in the feel of his hot, wet mouth drawing deeply on her breast. Her nipples peaked and the coil in her womb tightened once again.

“Oooh,” she moaned, crawling back beneath the covers. She curled into a ball as she fought the ache of unfulfilled desire.

She reminded herself that the girls' future depended on her keeping her head and not doing something stupid. Any involvement with Logan Murdock beyond their business partnership would be pure and absolute insanity.

But the memory of his hands on her body, his lips moving over her sensitive skin, kept her awake well into the night. When she finally did manage to drift off to sleep, she dreamed of a tall, dark-haired cowboy with hot, wild kisses and the touch of a sorcerer.

 

Cassie spooned the last bite of cereal into Chelsea's mouth and wondered for the hundredth time where Ginny and Hank were. Without the buffer they provided, breakfast had been a silent, uncomfortable affair. Logan had managed a formal “good morning” when he first came to the table, but he hadn't looked directly at her and he'd quickly fallen into silence as he ate.

How long could they avoid talking to each other?
Would they pretend what had taken place last night and the night before had never happened?

Her nerves on edge, Cassie jumped when Kelsie pounded on her tray. The baby was staring intently at Logan and holding her little arms out for him to take her.

“No, sweetie,” Cassie said, wiping Kelsie's mouth. “Mr. Murdock's eating.”

Logan looked up, and Cassie could feel his intense gaze watching every move she made. When she dropped the washcloth on the floor and had to rinse it in the sink before wiping off Chelsea, he set down his fork.

“Here. I'll hold her while you take care of the other one.”

Cassie swallowed her surprise as she lifted Kelsie from the high chair and handed her to Logan. “Thank you.” Turning back to wipe off Chelsea, she asked, “Have you seen Hank this morning?”

She unfastened the safety belt and settled the baby in her arms before turning to find a deep frown creasing Logan's forehead.

“No, I haven't.”

At his harsh tone, Kelsie whimpered and her tiny chin wobbled.

His expression immediately changed and he brought the baby's hand up to tickle it with his mustache. “Sorry, sprite. I didn't mean to scare you.”

Kelsie squealed happily and pounded on his face with her other hand. The sight made Cassie's insides ache.

The girls would never know what it was like to have a father. She swallowed around the lump in her
throat. Unfortunately, even if Stan hadn't died in that car accident, it wouldn't have been any different. The girls still wouldn't have had a father. He'd made it perfectly clear that if she insisted on completing the pregnancy, he'd divorce her and never look back. And Cassie knew he'd meant every word he'd said.

Disturbed by the thought of what the twins were missing, Cassie didn't realize for a moment that Logan was speaking to her. “What was that?”

“I asked if you've seen your friend Ginny.”

Cassie shook her head and headed for the hall. “I would imagine she's still in bed. Why?”

“If either one of you happen to see Hank, tell him I've already gone to work on that project we started yesterday.” He followed her into the living room, where she'd placed a quilt on the floor. “Can you manage these two this morning?”

“Of course.” She placed Chelsea on the colorful patchwork, then took Kelsie from him. “After we play for a while, they'll take a nap.”

“I have work to do,” he said. “If you need anything…” He paused, staring at her. “Where did you get that mark?” he demanded.

She reached up to touch the small red spot on the side of her throat. “I…uh, think it's irritation from—”

He swore. “It's a whisker burn.” Running his hand across the back of his neck, he shook his head. “Look, I—”

Cassie's cheeks heated and she looked away. “Don't worry about it. It should fade in a couple of days.”

Logan touched her chin with his index finger, lift
ing it so her gaze met his. “I'm sorry, Cassie. It won't happen again. I give you my word.”

The intense look in his deep blue eyes made her heart twist. Why did it bother her that he was vowing not to kiss her again? Wasn't that what she wanted, too?

Dropping his hand, he stepped back, then stared at her for several long seconds. Just when she thought she'd melt from his intense scrutiny, he turned and headed for the door.

“Lunch will be ready at noon.”

“Don't worry about lunch for me,” he called over his shoulder. “I'll be down at the foreman's cabin until suppertime. Maybe longer.”

When she heard his truck roar to life, she sighed. “Well, I guess that settles that.” She looked down at her happy daughters. “Looks like we're on our own this morning, girls. At least, until Ginny finally decides to get up and greet the day.”

Four hours later Cassie glanced at the clock, then at the stairs. She hated to bother Ginny, since she was technically on vacation. But the twins would be waking up from their naps soon and Cassie really could use help making lunch. She'd developed a slight headache and so far the tablets she'd taken hadn't relieved it.

Just as she made the decision to go upstairs and roust Ginny from bed, the phone rang. Hoping the sound hadn't disturbed the girls, Cassie grabbed it before it rang a second time.

“Lazy Ace Cattle Company.”

“Hi, Cass.”

“Ginny?” Cassie glanced at the stairs. So much
for her theory about Ginny sleeping in. “Where are you?”

“Cheyenne.” Ginny sounded breathless and…happier than Cassie could ever remember.

“Is Hank with you?” she asked, already sure she knew the answer.

“Yes, he is.” Ginny giggled. “Cass, Hank and I got married last night.”

Cassie felt as if the floor tilted beneath her feet. “You did what?”

Ginny laughed. “You heard me.”

“My God, Ginny, you've known him less than a week.”

Her friend was silent a moment. “I know I haven't known Hank very long, but I really love him, Cass.”

Cassie sighed. “Well, you know I'm happy for you. I'm just in shock.”

“I'm sorry, Cass. I know I always said you'd be my maid of honor when I got married, but Hank swept me off my feet. Listen, I don't have time to talk right now. As soon as Hank gets back with breakfast—”

“It's time for lunch,” Cassie said dryly.

“Oh, yeah. I suppose you're right,” Ginny said, giggling. “Anyway, when Hank gets back, we're heading down to Denver for a short honeymoon. He wanted me to have you tell Logan that we'll be back in about a week.” In the background, Cassie could hear someone pounding on a door. “Just a minute, darling. Listen, Cassie, I have to go. Take care and we'll see you in a week.”

When the line went dead, Cassie stared at the phone for a full minute before placing the receiver
back on its cradle. Ginny marrying Hank had been a huge surprise. But what shocked Cassie more than anything was the wave of longing that had coursed through her—was still coursing through her—at Ginny's announcement.