The Rancher's Wife (11 page)

The group ambled off toward the main house.

“He's changed.” Amy stared after Dominic as he made his way across the field.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “Took a while, but he finally decided to settle down. Cissy and the boys had a lot to do with that.”

She glanced at him. “Does he still compete at rodeos?”

“No.” Logan shook his head. “The last time he rode a bull was over a year ago. He talks about starting up that bull-riding clinic but he's been preoccupied with preparing for the babies lately. When it comes to Cissy, those bulls don't stand a chance with Dom.”

Amy looked back at Dominic making his way up the wide, front porch steps, Kayden on his shoulders and Jayden at his side. “He left the circuit for her?”

Her lips barely moved over the quiet words. Logan's chest tightened at the air of yearning that surrounded her. That familiar wistfulness was in the stillness of her body and the features of her face. It was an air that had clung to her over the years. One he'd first seen shining in her eyes when she'd kissed him by that oak tree all those years ago.

“She's his wife.” Logan moved close, touching her jaw and bringing her face back to his. “A man stays with his family. That's the way it should be.”

Her eyes dropped and her resigned half smile hit him hard in the gut.

Heaven help him, he missed her. Missed
them
. He wanted to rebuild their friendship and remind her of who she used to be before her spirit was broken. Return that sweet look of wistfulness to her face and feel it warm his skin when she looked at him.

You better bring her back
.

Logan smiled. Jayden was on to something, all right. And that was exactly what he was gonna do. “Now, let's go for that ride.”

* * *

A
MY
TILTED
HER
head back and strained to catch the faint touch of warmth from the setting sun. The late afternoon air had grown colder over the course of her ride with Logan across Raintree's grounds.

A wave of dizziness swept over her, causing her weight to shift off-center in the saddle. She grabbed the saddle horn and straightened. Lightning huffed beneath her and shook his head. His white mane tossed about, settling in disarray over her fingers.

Amy made herself heavy, re-centered her balance and weighed her seat down. She blinked rapidly, clearing the dancing spots from her vision and refocused on the horizon.

It was nothing new. For the past week, she'd had the same type of spell almost every day and had felt...
off
. It had to be stress. She'd had her fair share of it since she returned home, and working with Thunder only exacerbated her emotional state.

Amy relaxed as the world centered again. She delivered gentle pats to Lightning's neck. He nickered and slowed his steps, the day's dying light caressing his pale mane in a glow of pink.

It'd be dark soon and would only get colder. There was so much work that still needed to be done with Thunder. It was past time to turn back.

“It's still Saturday, yeah?”

Logan's deep tenor disrupted her thoughts. He cut her a sidelong glance, dark eyes narrowing beneath the brim of his tan Stetson. His broad hands pulled back on his reins to fall into step beside her.

She frowned and nodded. “Why?”

He shrugged, broad shoulders stretching his blue shirt, and grinned. “Just wondering why you're taking a Sunday stroll.”

Amy warmed at his sly look. She dropped her gaze, only to find it hovering over the tight denim covering his muscular thigh.

“I'm enjoying a relaxing ride,” she said. “Taking a break like you suggested.”

“At this rate, it'll take two weeks to cross the grounds. Feels like we've been trudging along at this pace for days already.” He jerked his chin toward Lightning. “He's restless.”

As if on cue, Lightning tossed his head and stomped.

Amy's mouth tightened. “No, he's not.”

“Yeah. He is.”

She raised a brow at his deliberate tone. “So what are you suggesting?”

His grin widened. “A harmless competition between friends.”

“I take it you want to race.”

“Isn't that how our rides always used to turn out?”

Amy smirked. “Pretty much. And, if memory serves, Kayden was correct in saying I always won.”

“Not always.”

“Yeah. I did.”

Logan laughed, the deep, sexy rumble surrounding her and tingling on her skin. “Then you shouldn't have a problem defending your title.”

Amy hesitated, gaze lingering over the warm depths of his eyes and teasing grin. It was a bad idea. She should be back at the round pen, at least trying to run Thunder through the paces.

She'd promised to bring the stallion back to his old self and hadn't made a lick of progress. Thunder was the last hurdle she had to overcome before leaving. One that would enable her to pack her bags and walk away to a fresh start, leaving the empty ache in her chest behind.

Only, it was becoming harder to believe she could ever banish it altogether. The four-year absence from Raintree had left her longing for home. These last few weeks had reminded her how much she missed it. And most—
or worst
—of all, making love with Logan had reminded her of exactly how much she missed
him
.

They'd continued to sleep beside each other in the same bed. Most nights, she'd fallen asleep on her side, carefully keeping her distance. But each morning, she'd woken up in Logan's arms, then slipped away quickly while he slept. She'd never been able to give Logan her body without handing over her heart. Still couldn't. And Logan's heart was something he'd never been willing to share with her.

Amy sighed. Could what Logan offered be enough? Maybe he was right. Maybe she was too hung up on a fantasy. The kind that didn't exist. Maybe what he offered was as real as love could get.

“You're thinking too much.” Logan moved his mount closer and placed his big palm on her thigh.

Amy's leg tensed. His tender caress penetrated her jeans, slipped beneath her skin and danced in her blood. It rushed higher and filled her chest with a sweet heaviness. The same sweet welling of heat that bloomed when Logan held her, his heart beating beneath her cheek.

Amy closed her eyes and squeezed the saddle horn tighter. She wished that feeling could last. Wished she could carry it with her, possess it forever and never feel alone.

“Just once,” she whispered, clarifying at his confused look. “We'll race one time.”

That would be enough. Then she could set this longing down and move on. Let Raintree go. And leave Logan, along with the girl she used to be, behind.

She straightened, tossing her hair over her shoulder and re-centering her seat. “How about we up the stakes, though? You win, I muck the stalls. I win, the hat's mine?”

Logan's mouth twisted, his tone hesitant. “Don't know about that. A man should never be parted from his hat.” He tapped the brim with his finger. “And this is a damned good one.”

She laughed. “So, you know you're gonna lose.”

He knuckled the Stetson up an inch, narrowing his eyes and smiling. “Didn't say that, babe.”

Amy's heart tripped in her chest. Logan's flirtatious gaze seared over her, heating her skin. How many times had she wished for that look from him over the years? And to get it now...

A man stays with his family
.

How she still wanted that. Wanted Logan at her side every day. His child in her arms.

His child
. Amy froze. Dizzy spells for a week. Feeling
off
. Her hand touched the flat plane of her belly.
How long had it been since...?

She'd arrived home on Thanksgiving Day and she and Logan had made love the night after. Her mind scrambled to count the days, which quickly added up to weeks.
Three weeks
. Almost three weeks to the day since they'd—

No
. Her shoulders slumped, a heavy weight settling over her. There was no need to worry on that account. There was next to no chance of it. What had the doctors said after she'd lost Sara? Her chances of conceiving were—
greatly diminished
.
Highly improbable
. And, in the event of a successful conception, pregnancy was...
inadvisable.

Amy swiped the back of her hand over her forehead, whisking away cold beads of sweat.
Placental abruption. Stillborn. Hemorrhaging. Scarring.
Cold clinical terms for something so horrifying.

No. It was highly unlikely. It had taken several times for her to get pregnant before. They'd only been together the one time and she'd been late more than once over the years. But never this late.

Amy's stomach churned, her palms growing sweaty. She didn't know which emotion railed at her more. The paralyzing fear of possibly being pregnant. Or the overwhelming pain of never being able to conceive.

A frigid wind swept through, masking the sun's fading warmth. A streak of adrenaline shot through her veins and shook her limbs, the urge to bolt hitting her hard.

The endless acres before her beckoned, the dormant ground unobstructed and ripe for the taking. Amy tightened her legs around Lightning. He jerked his head, drawing to a reluctant halt.

Lightning wanted to run. So did she. More than anything.

“Whatcha say, handsome?” Amy asked, combing her trembling fingers through Lightning's coarse mane and striving for a calm tone. “Want to show him up?”

Amy lowered her torso, lightened her seat and clutched the reins. The command from years ago bloomed in her chest, rose to tickle her tongue and escaped on a panicked whisper.

“Fly, boy.”

Lightning heaved forward, hooves pounding over the ground, spraying up dead grass and clumps of mud. Amy moved with him, staying steady and centered. The stallion's powerful lunges stirred excitement in her veins. It buzzed in her blood, strengthening her posture and dancing on the surface of her skin.

Each foot of distance brought back her balance and soothed her senses, reminding her of how she used to feel. Brave. Carefree.
Alive.

She hooked the reins around the saddle horn and rose up, firming her grip with her thighs and stretching her arms out to catch the rush of wind with her palms. Cold air licked through her hair, teasing her neck and slipping beneath the billowed back of her shirt.

The throbbing gallop of Logan's stallion sounded at her side. Amy glanced to her left. Logan leaned forward, his muscular thighs hugging his horse's middle, his powerful build steady, keeping pace with her.

He smiled. “That all you got, babe?”

Amy laughed, a rebellious energy she hadn't felt in years firing through her body. The wind roared by her ears, her heart pounded and a sweet sense of freedom overcame her. She renewed her hold on the reins and gave Lightning permission to charge faster. They regained the lead, sprinting a foot ahead and swallowing up the spacious fields before them. Logan remained hot on their heels.

Lightning stretched his legs in long, galloping leaps following a familiar path until they crossed the edge of the open field. He slowed to a walk as they came to a cluster of trees lining a rushing creek and carefully maneuvered between them until they reached the bank.

“Good boy,” she crooned.

Amy kissed Lightning's sweaty neck, drew him to a halt and glanced over her shoulder. Logan stroked his horse's neck and eased up beside her. She examined his devilish expression, narrowing her eyes on the sexy curve of his smile.

“You held back and let me win.”

Logan chuckled. “Are you implying you couldn't have outrun me otherwise?”

“No. Just making an observation.”

“So, considering that, I get to keep my hat.”

“I don't know,” she said. “I'll have to think about it.”

She swung her leg over Lightning's back and hopped down, watching as the stallion walked to the creek and began to drink. Logan followed suit and led his horse over to join Lightning.

Amy turned, eyeing the scattering of trees and noting one in particular. She sighed as she surveyed the solid strength of the oak tree. Its impressive shape and towering height was familiar and stirred an ache in her chest.

She winced, absorbing the rush of embarrassment. It was the same tree Logan had leaned against when she'd first kissed him. It had taken every drop of bravery she'd had to touch her lips to his all those years ago. To risk so much for what she knew would be so small a reward.

She'd loved Logan just as strongly then as she loved him now. There was no need to fight it or run from it. It just was. She had to accept it as something she could never change or leave behind.

Amy walked over and leaned against the oak's trunk. She closed her eyes and absorbed the whispering rush of water from the creek and the rough bark at her back, allowing herself to imagine, just for a moment, how different things might have been if she hadn't lost Sara. If she hadn't pushed Logan so hard. If she'd given him a chance to love her back.

She felt fabric sweep past her shoulders and a strong heat drew near to her chest. She opened her eyes to find Logan leaning close, his dark eyes on her mouth and his muscular arms braced against the trunk on both sides of her.

Her belly fluttered as his lips parted, his head dipping.

“Wanna give it another try?” He tapped his mouth with the blunt tip of his finger.

Amy shook her head, heat racing up her neck. She pressed her palms tight to the tree behind her, digging her fingers into the uneven crannies of the bark.

Logan's gaze left her mouth and traveled over her face. His lips tipped up at the corners.

“Come on, babe,” he whispered, taking one of her hands in his and holding it to his chest. “Try me.”

She pressed her lips together, stilling as his eyes darkened and returned to her mouth. The heavy throb of his heart beat against her palm and coursed down to her wrist, coaxing her pulse to join its rhythm.