Page 51 of Destined for the Cowboy

A memory suddenly struck her, triggered by the thought of the mustang sculptures. If they went to her place, he’d see the photo. He’d see it, because she’d had it printed, and it was propped up on the kitchen counter, where she could look at it any time. She’d taken a lot of pictures that day, the running, splashing horses from all distances and angles. But only one of the pictures so far was one she wanted to look at all the time. It was of one of the babies of the small herd, who seemed too small to be making the leap off the edge into the water below. And beside the bronze foal crouched Logan, one hand gently touching the little one’s flank, as if he were a live one who needed his calming touch.

The moment she’d captured that image she’d known it would be special. She hadn’t counted on the strange feeling it gave her. But she knew she would treasure it, as a reminder of that day, that visit, and the man who, at the time, she’d doubted would be in her life for long.

And here they were, almost a month later, heading for…she wasn’t sure what.

She told herself not to get her hopes up. He could just be wanting to talk about Jeremy, or Jackson, or something else he didn’t want to broadcast to Last Stand in general, or risk it getting to the grapevine and thus known far and wide.

He left his truck—was there any private vehicle in Last Stand that was more recognizable than that truck?—there and they started walking toward her house. Her half of the duplex, anyway. She had new neighbors in the other half as of last week, and they were taking their time settling in. The noise at all hours was beginning to get on her nerves, and she was starting to worry that it wasn’t just settling in, that they were just…noisy. That would teach her not to worry about the quiet, becausenow that it seemed to be gone, maybe permanently, she craved nothing more.

She didn’t think she imagined that moment of hesitation before he stepped through her doorway. She saw him looking around the main room, and kept watching, curious to see where his gaze would snag. He seemed to notice her office alcove first, then the portrait of the wall of Jackson, Leah and Jeremy. She saw the slightly sad smile that curved his mouth.

“I’m going to have to get a new photo,” she said quietly. “So I always know he’s as happy now as he was then.”

The sadness in his expression faded, and when he met her gaze he nodded. “They are happy.”

“Yes.” A smile curved her mouth, as it did every time she thought of how true that was. “Living proof,” she added in a tone just above a whisper, more to herself than him. Proof that it could happen. But then, Jackson had always been braver than she was, plus he had Jeremy to be worried about, so it was little wonder he’d moved on. While she herself had languished in her unchanging life, the move to this place the biggest change she’d managed on her own.

At least, until now.

Even as she thought it, a loud thump followed by a child’s squeal came from the adjoined unit, seeming only slightly muffled by the wall between. She rolled her eyes.

“Maybe we should have gone to your place,” she said wryly as she walked into the kitchen. “I envy you the quiet.”

When she glanced at him, he was staring at her again, but this time as if in shock. “You…do?”

“Absolutely. My new neighbors are a bit loud. And there’s a lot of local traffic, relatively speaking. Plus, there are times when I come home from a tough day amid dozens of energetic, noisy kids and I’d give anything for that kind of peace and…separation.”

“I would have thought it was too isolated for you.”

“If I want to be around people I know where to find them,” she said dryly. “Coffee? There’s some left in the pot but it’s a couple of hours old, so I can put on fresh—”

She stopped when he shook his head. “Two hours old sounds about right.”

She got down two mugs, and was filling them when he said, in a tone that seemed half statement, half question, “You’d need a lot nicer place than mine, though.”

She looked up, saw he was looking around her living room again.

“No,” she said. “This decor is just…window dressing. Bought from a picture on a website. At the time all I wanted was to get away from the painful memories the old house held.”

She set the mugs on the counter, got her creamer out of the fridge for her own coffee, but remembering he took it black didn’t offer it to him. But she set it within reach in case her home brew wasn’t to his liking.

“If I’d been thinking straight, I would have realized I needed more privacy.”

“I definitely have that.”

He took a sip. He didn’t grimace or gag, so she guessed it must have been acceptable. Or his tolerance was high, because it was a bit too strong now for her. But a little more creamer would fix that.

For a long moment silence reigned, although his words were echoing in her head. Not the ones about wanting to talk, although that had ratcheted her tension up a bit. No, it was his answer to her question that had her rattled.

Looking for something?

Already found it.

And she couldn’t deny that he’d been looking steadily—no, intensely—at her when he’d said it.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The only reasonhe could be here, Logan realized, was because David Carhart had never set foot in the place. He couldn’t even imagine being in the home they’d had together. He didn’t even know where it had been, and he didn’t want to know.

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