Cassie's Cowboy Daddy (7 page)

The evening hadn't been easy, but it had given Logan a glimpse of what fatherhood was all about. He smiled. One of the twins—he still couldn't tell them apart—had giggled delightedly when he'd let her feed him some of her pudding, and the other one had laid her head on his shoulder and hugged his
neck when he'd finished pulling her T-shirt over her head.

Taking care of the babies had been hard work, but he'd found himself enjoying it. He frowned. Unfortunately, he'd also found himself pondering things he had no business thinking about.

As he sponged baby food from the floor and high chairs, an empty ache settled deep in his chest. Even though he recognized it as pure insanity, it didn't ease the longing, or keep him from reflecting on what it would be like to be part of Cassie's little family.

 

When Logan walked into her room a day and a half later, Cassie propped herself up against the pillows. The past couple of days had been a blur, but she was beginning to feel as if she might just survive after all.

“How are the twins?” she asked anxiously. She hadn't dared be around them for fear they might catch the flu, and she missed them terribly.

Logan grinned and pointed to his shirt. “Just fine.”

She smiled at the spots on his chambray shirt—water and something yellow. “I see you've fed and bathed them.”

He nodded as he set a tray of food on the bedside table. “And they're down for the night.” He paused as he glanced down at the front of his shirt. “You know, you could have warned me that one of them doesn't like carrots, squash or peas and the other one likes water sports.”

Cassie laughed and reached for the bowl of chicken soup he'd brought her for supper. “It's not
that Chelsea doesn't like those vegetables. She just likes playing while she eats. It's like a game for her. And Kelsie absolutely loves being in water.”

“I know,” he said dryly. “I predict she'll be an Olympic swimmer.”

“Could be,” Cassie said, smiling. She took a sip of the rich chicken broth. “Mmmm, this is good.”

“I opened a can of soup this time, instead of having Tucker make it,” Logan said, chuckling. “If he doesn't stop being so vain about how he'd look in glasses, I'll have the skinniest cowhands in Albany county.”

She laughed. “Or they'll all quit because you're starving them.” She took a sip of the orange juice he'd insisted she drink with every meal. “You know, I've been thinking I'd like to have a celebration dinner when Ginny and Hank get home.”

Cassie felt a pang of longing every time she thought of her friend finding the man of her dreams, but quickly tamped it down. She wished Ginny and Hank nothing but the best in their marriage. “Do you think the men down at the bunkhouse would like to join us?”

“I'm sure the guys would like that idea a lot.” Logan grinned. “It will be one night they won't have to eat Tucker's cooking.”

Remembering how Tucker's beef soup had tasted, she nodded. “I can't really say I blame them.” She took another sip of juice, then placed the empty glass back on the tray. Yawning, she leaned back against the pillows.

“Feeling any better today?” Logan asked, sitting on the bed beside her.

“Yes, but I tire easily,” she said, distracted by his presence. Somehow it seemed extremely intimate having him sit on the bed beside her, carrying on a conversation about ordinary, everyday things.

He reached out and touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “You don't seem to be running a fever this evening. That's a good sign.”

She caught her breath at the feel of his skin against hers. She might not be running a fever, but her temperature was definitely going up just from his touch. She must be getting well.

When his gaze caught and held hers for several long seconds, she became very conscious of the way she must look. No doubt her nose was cherry-red, her eyes bloodshot and her skin tone a sickly pale. Not exactly the stuff men's dreams were made of. But from the look in his eyes it didn't appear he was put off by her obviously haggard appearance.

“Have you heard from Hank or Ginny?” she asked, looking down at her hands. If she hadn't broken eye contact she might have drowned in his deep blue gaze. Glancing back up, she discovered he looked as disconcerted as she felt.

He cleared his throat. “They'll be home day after tomorrow.” Rising from the side of the bed, he picked up the tray. “Do you need anything else before I go back downstairs?”

“No, I'll be fine.” When he nodded and turned to leave the room, she added, “Thank you for taking such good care of the girls…and me.”

He turned back, and she could have sworn he looked wistful and a little sad. “Believe me, Cassie. It was my pleasure.”

 

Logan watched his men congratulate Hank and Ginny on their recent marriage, then file into the kitchen on the way back to the bunkhouse to thank Cassie for including them in the celebration. Each one had been on his best behavior. Even ornery old Gabe.

From the kitchen door Logan watched Cassie say goodbye to the men, then move around the kitchen putting away leftovers, loading the dishwasher and laughing with Ginny. Cassie had recovered from the flu and resumed her normal routine several days ago, but he still intended to keep a close eye on her—to make sure she didn't do too much too soon. But the truth was, he just liked watching her.

“Enjoyin' the scenery as much as I am?” Hank asked, coming to stand beside him.

“I'm just making sure Cassie doesn't overdo things,” Logan said automatically.

“Uh-huh, sure.” Hank's expression told him the man didn't believe Logan's flimsy excuse for a minute. “What do you say we go into the study, while the women get things cleaned up?”

Lifting a brow, Logan asked, “Don't you want to spend the evening with your bride?”

Hank grinned. “Oh, I don't intend to be away from her for very long. But I have something I need to talk over with you.”

Logan nodded and headed toward the living room. “Let me check to make sure Chelsea and Kelsie are doing okay in the playpen.”

“You got kind of attached to those little girls while Ginny and I were gone, didn't you?”

“I'm just helping Cassie out,” Logan said. He hated the defensive tone of his voice almost as much as he hated the smirk on Hank's face.

Fortunately, Hank had the good sense not to comment further as they walked into the study. Logan would have hated having to deck his best friend when he had just returned from his honeymoon.

Lowering himself into the chair, Logan leaned back and propped his boots on the edge of the desk. “So what have you got on your mind?”

Hank's expression turned as serious as Logan had ever seen it. “Have you talked to Cassie about movin' into the foreman's place yet?”

“No.”

“Good.” Hank stared at his boots for several long seconds before he met Logan's gaze. “Don't get me wrong. I really appreciate you invitin' me and Ginny to stay here. But we've been talkin'. We'd like to move into the cabin as soon as it's finished.”

“After Ginny called to say you two were married, I figured out you had this in mind when you suggested we work on it,” Logan said, nodding.

He understood Hank wanting to be alone with his wife. But what Logan couldn't quite grasp was the sense of relief filling his soul. Cassie and the babies would be staying right here in the house with him.

“Glad you understand.” Hank grinned. “How much more work will we have to do before it's ready?”

“We still have to install the kitchen cabinets and sink. And we'll have to replace the plumbing and wiring.” Logan shrugged. “I'd say we could have it
ready in about a month, maybe a little sooner if everything we ordered gets here on time.”

“Perfect.” Hank's grin could have lit a small city. “We've already started tryin' for a baby.”

At Hank's announcement, envy sliced through Logan. But he did his best to conceal it. He found himself wishing for things to be different, wishing that he and Cassie were the ones trying to create a baby together. And that scared the hell out of him.

He'd never wondered what it would be like to watch a woman grow large with his child, lay his hand on her swollen belly and feel the baby move. But he suddenly envisioned how Cassie would look pregnant, and sweat popped out on his upper lip, while a shiver snaked its way up his spine.

Managing a smile, he said, “Congratulations. I hope it looks like Ginny and not you.”

“That's what I'm hopin', too.” Laughing, Hank rose to leave. “I think I'll go find my wife and continue our honeymoon.”

As Hank crossed the room to the door, Logan made a split-second decision. “Hank, do you think you could watch things around here for a couple of days?”

“Sure. Why?”

“I'm thinking about taking a trip up into the mountains to check on Samson,” Logan said.

Hank nodded. “Need to do some thinkin'?”

Logan didn't try lying his way out of it. Hank knew him too well. “Yeah, I do.”

“What time you leavin'?”

“I'd like to get an early start.” Logan left his chair
and followed Hank out into the hall. “I'll probably leave around daybreak tomorrow.”

“I hope you get the answers you're lookin' for,” Hank said, clapping Logan on the shoulder.

“I do, too, Hank,” Logan said as he watched his friend head for the kitchen to find Ginny. “I do, too.”

W
hen the back screen door slammed shut, Logan looked over the horse he was saddling, expecting to see Hank. Instead, he watched Cassie coming across the yard toward him. She looked good in the pale light of dawn. Damned good.

But he couldn't remember a time since he'd met her that she hadn't. Even when she'd been ill, she'd looked good to him. He'd seen her at her worst and he'd still wanted her. Wanted to take care of her. That bothered him and was the reason he was heading up into the mountains.

As she approached, his body stirred and he bit back a curse. He was in deep trouble if all it took for him to get hard was her walking toward him. He thanked the good Lord above that he was standing on the other side of Dakota. At least he'd be able to
hide the fact that he was aroused as long as he kept the horse between them.

“Where's my horse?” she asked, walking up to him.

His mouth dropped open. “Your horse?”

“Yes, my horse.” She smiled, flashing those killer dimples, and he felt his insides catch fire and his stomach tighten. “I'm going with you.”

Logan felt his world tilt and every nerve in his body come to full alert. “No, you're not.”

Her smile disappeared. “Yes, I am.”

She ran her hand down Dakota's gray neck, and Logan found himself wishing she'd run her hands down his body. He had to make himself concentrate on the rest of what she was saying.

“I want to see all of my inheritance. Besides, it can be dangerous up in the mountains. You shouldn't be going alone, and it's not fair for Hank to have to leave Ginny so soon after getting married.”

Logan would bet everything he had that her last two statements were almost word for word right out of Hank's mouth. If Logan could have gotten his hands on the man at that moment, he'd have beaten the living tar out of him, then choked what was left of his sorry carcass for good measure.

“Don't worry about me,” Logan said, adjusting the saddle girth. He tried to make his tone as reassuring as possible. “I've been traveling these mountains by myself since I was twelve years old, sugar. I know them like the back of my hand.”

She nodded. “Then you'll be the perfect guide.”

“You need to stay here with Chelsea and Kelsie,” he said, turning to load the packhorse.

“Hank and Ginny have offered to take care of the girls.” Her smile returned. “They said it would be good practice for them.”

Logan stopped loading the packs to look directly at her. That was a big mistake, he decided. She looked so damned sweet and tempting that it took all of his resolve to shake his head. “I'm not taking you with me, Cassie.”

“Yes, you are.”

“
No,
I'm not.”

Her silence gave him a moment of hope that she was about to give up. Then, walking around Dakota to him, she did the one thing he couldn't resist. She touched him.

“Please, Logan?”

The gesture was simple and wasn't in any way meant to be provocative. Hell, all she'd done was place her hand on his forearm, and that had been covered by his long-sleeved shirt. But the warmth from her touch, her soft voice saying his name just about turned him wrong side out.

Closing his eyes, he called himself nine kinds of a fool. But he was man enough to admit he was fighting a lost cause. “Do you know how to ride?”

She nodded, but there was indecision in her expression. “Sort of.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“When I was a child, my parents used to have friends who owned a farm south of St. Louis. I sometimes rode their horse. But I think she was about a hundred years old.”

“Horses don't live that long.”

“You know what I mean.” She gave him one of
those looks a woman always gives a man when she thinks he's being dense. “It was extremely old and didn't have a lot of energy left.”

“In other words, you sat in the saddle and that's about it,” he guessed.

“Correct.”

Glancing down, he pointed to her feet. “Riding in tennis shoes isn't a good idea.”

“Why?”

“There's no heel to keep your foot from slipping through the stirrup. If you fell off, you could be dragged or stepped on. Do you have a pair of boots?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes lighting with excitement. “Does this mean you'll take me with you?”

“Go put your boots on,” he said, resigned. He decided it was almost worth the hell he'd go through for the next couple of days just to see the elation in her beautiful green eyes.

She reached up to give him a quick hug, sending his blood pressure up several notches and playing hell with his effort to get his body back under control. “Thank you, Logan.”

When she turned and started jogging back to the house, he called after her. “Wear a long-sleeved shirt—preferably flannel—and a warm jacket.”

“I'll be ready in twenty minutes,” she said, disappearing into the house.

He sighed heavily and headed for the barn. He'd be a raving lunatic by the time they reached the campsite. How was he supposed to do any kind of soul-searching by taking the source of his torment
with him? And how in hell was he going to keep his hands off her?

Several scenarios came to mind and made him so damned hard that riding a horse would undoubtedly prove hazardous. He rubbed a hand over his face in an effort to wipe out the erotic fantasies. It didn't help. He had the feeling he was fighting the inevitable.

After opening the stall of the oldest, gentlest horse he owned, he led Valentine to the door of the tack room. He quickly saddled the mare, led her out to where his gelding and the packhorse stood tied to the corral, then turned and headed for the house. He wasn't happy about what he was about to do, but a week ago he'd made Cassie a promise.

And although he didn't plan on kissing her, he'd be damned before he went back on his word.

 

Cassie glanced at Logan for at least the tenth time as they rode side by side across the valley toward the eastern mountains surrounding the Lazy Ace. She'd been so shocked by his appearance when he'd met her at the corral, she hadn't been able to ask how far they were going, how long it would take to get there or when they'd return.

One question kept running through her mind. Why had he shaved off his mustache?

He hadn't said more than a handful of words to her all morning, and if his unapproachable demeanor was any indication, he didn't want to talk about the absence of his facial hair. Or much of anything else, for that matter.

She knew he wasn't happy about her accompa
nying him up into the mountains, but that was too bad. For some reason it wasn't enough to hear about the land her uncle Silas had left her. She wanted to
see
it. Besides, what Hank had told her was true. It was dangerous for Logan to be traveling the mountains alone.

Closing her eyes, Cassie tilted her head back and breathed in the fresh, unpolluted air. The warmth of the sun on her upturned face felt wonderful. “Uncle Silas was right. This is the most beautiful place on earth.”

“Really?” Logan didn't sound as if he believed her. “You like this better than the city?”

“Oh, yes. I wish I'd lived here when I was a child,” she said, feeling more content than she had in years. “Bringing the girls out here to grow up is the best thing I've ever done. They'll always know this kind of beauty exists.”

They rode in silence for several more minutes and had just ridden into the line of trees ringing the upland meadow when Logan asked, “What would your husband have thought of your decision to move the girls out here? Would he have approved of his daughters living somewhere out in the back forty of God's country?”

Cassie didn't particularly like discussing Stan, but she supposed Logan had a right to know, since she and the girls were here to stay. “Stan died in a car accident before the twins were born. But he wouldn't have cared one way or the other, even if he'd lived.”

Logan reined in the gelding under a canopy of pine trees. “We'll eat lunch and rest the horses here,” he said, waiting for her to stop the mare. Dismounting
his horse, he helped her down from Valentine. “What do you mean, he wouldn't have cared?” he asked.

Shrugging, Cassie walked over to sit on a boulder at the base of a pine tree. “Stan didn't care for anyone or anything but himself. He'd filed for divorce two days before he was killed.”

Logan opened one of the leather bags behind his saddle, then handed her a sandwich. Unwrapping his, he watched her take a bite. “So your husband never knew about Chelsea and Kelsie?”

Her appetite deserting her, she rewrapped her sandwich. “I didn't find out I was expecting twins until after he died. But he knew I was pregnant,” she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “That's why he filed for divorce. He gave me a choice—I either terminated the pregnancy or he'd leave. I chose my babies.”

Logan had leaned against a tree across from her and, although his stance appeared relaxed, she detected his tension in the tightening of his features. “What kind of man wants his wife to get rid of their child?” He sounded angry.

“A very selfish, self-centered one.”

“Obviously.” Logan shook his head. “So you've been on your own with the babies from the start.”

She nodded. “And we're doing just fine. We have each other. We don't need a man in our lives.”

Logan didn't comment further as he finished his lunch. He couldn't. He was still too outraged by what Cassie had told him. Her husband had to have been a class-A jerk—first for wanting her to get rid of their
child and second for intending to leave her pregnant and alone.

Hadn't the man realized what he had? Stan Wellington had been gifted with everything Logan had ever wanted in life, but couldn't have—a wife and family. And in the process of throwing it all away, the man had convinced Cassie that she didn't want or need anyone to share her life, or to help her raise her daughters.

Maybe it was for the best that she and the twins had moved to the Lazy Ace, Logan decided. Living on a remote ranch with him was probably safer for the three of them than life alone in a big city. At least he'd be there to protect and take care of them for as long as they stayed.

He tried to extinguish the spark of hope building in his chest. Maybe they wouldn't leave. Maybe Cassie and the twins would stay and allow him to feel as if he were a part of their family from time to time.

Yeah, and cattle roost in trees.

Stretching, Logan walked over to where he'd ground-tied the horses and picked up the reins of the gelding and mare. “We'd better get moving if we want to make camp by supper.”

Cassie nodded and walked over to Valentine. “Why do my legs feel like limp spaghetti?”

Logan smiled. “You're not used to riding.”

He put his hands around her trim waist and prepared to help her mount up. Touching her in any way played hell with his libido, but when he helped lift her into the saddle, her cute little rear bobbing in front of his face had him biting back a groan.

Swinging up onto his horse, he ground his teeth
against the pure and utter frustration gnawing at his gut. If he had any sense, he'd turn them around and head back to the ranch. If the simple act of helping her onto a horse had his blood flowing like fire through his veins, there was no way in hell he'd be able to keep his hands to himself lying beside her tonight in that tiny little tent.

By midafternoon the trail had narrowed and they were forced to ride single file. Logan frequently twisted in his saddle to look back at Cassie. He wanted to make sure she wasn't having any problems keeping up with him.

“Doing okay?”

She smiled. “Just fine.”

“Good. We still have a few more miles to go before we make camp.”

The trail forked a few yards ahead, and he'd just started to guide Dakota up the right path when the guttural grunt of a bear combined with Cassie's piercing scream made Logan's hair stand on end and set Dakota to crow hopping. He immediately got the gelding calmed, but the rope he'd used to tie the packhorse to the back of his saddle snapped. He watched a few of their supplies go flying through the air as old Smokey bucked like a rank bronc in a two-bit rodeo, then broke into a dead run as he headed back down the mountain, taking the rest of their camping gear with him.

And Cassie had raised such a ruckus she'd scared poor old Samson right out of his hide. Bellowing and crashing through the brush like a steamroller, the bear was putting as much distance as he could between himself and the unhinged female who'd screamed
bloody murder. Logan figured the bear would be halfway around the mountain before he finally stopped.

Fortunately, Valentine had a calm enough nature she hadn't started bucking, but her ears were pinned back and her nostrils flared wide. Logan wasn't sure which one was showing more of the whites of their eyes, the woman or the mare. But he did know beyond a shadow of doubt that if Cassie didn't stop squirming around in the saddle, the frightened mare would wind up following the packhorse down the mountain and take Cassie with her.

Quickly grabbing the mare's reins to keep her from fleeing, he tried to soothe both the woman and the horse. “Easy now, sugar. He's gone.”

“Are you sure?” Cassie asked anxiously, still twisting around to see which direction Samson had fled. Logan had to get her to calm down.

Bringing Valentine alongside his horse, Logan didn't hesitate. He held both sets of reins in one hand, then wrapped his other arm around Cassie's waist and hauled her onto his lap. The gelding shied at the extra weight, but Logan managed to hold both horses, the woman and his temper. Barely.

Their camping supplies were halfway down the mountain and he'd probably never see his bear again.

But when Cassie put both arms around his neck and clung to him as tremors racked her slender body, his anger melted like an ice cube on a hot plate. She was seated across his lap, so her warm little bottom pressing against his groin and her breasts crushed to his chest had the predictable effect. He bit back a groan. He was hotter than hell and there was no way he'd be able to hide it when she calmed down.