Page 29 of Destined for the Cowboy

“I admit if I see one, I jump. But I’ve gotten past the run and hide instinct.”

“And the bats?”

“I love the bats,” she declared. “I have ever since I first got here and saw them at the Congress Bridge in Austin.”

“I appreciate the mosquito-free zone they provide,” he said solemnly, and this time she laughed.

She recognized the big turn from this morning, saw the shadow of the darkened house, and slowed to a stop about where she had then. He was out of the car so quickly it almost stung, but on the heels of her reaction she realized he was simply standing there, leaning against the open car door, looking at…something. Curious, she got out, saw that he was looking almost straight up.

She tilted her head back, and gasped aloud. She was looking at the vast, almost smoky-looking spray of stars that was the Milky Way, clearer than she’d ever seen it.

She’d been obviously aware of the night sky as soon as the sun had set, but she’d been distracted, first by him then by driving, and it hadn’t really registered until his actions had called her attention to it now. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, motionless, staring upward in awe, when she felt…something. At last she shifted her gaze, to find Logan watching her.

“Another reason I wanted this place,” he said.

“I feel so oblivious,” she said. “I mean, I’ve seen it, but…not like this.”

“Out here we’re away from any lights from Last Stand, and a good fifty-plus miles, as the bat flies, from the lights of Austin. It makes a difference.”

“An amazing difference.”

There was a moment of silence before he went on, and when he did, he sounded as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “It’s even better from my back deck. The angle’s better and you can lean back on the lounge and just…look.”

She answered without even thinking about it. “I’d like to see that.”

Another moment of silence before he said, sounding the same way again, “Then come on.”

Chapter Sixteen

He had, Loganwas sure, done stupider things in his life, but right now he couldn’t remember any.

What had possessed him to invite, of all people, this woman inside his hideaway? This woman of class, style, used to much better things than she’d find in his home, which was a step or two below humble. He couldn’t even look at her when, after he’d flipped on the lights, she stopped just inside the door and started to look around.

He’d lived here for several years now, and it had everything he needed or wanted. But now he was looking around, trying to see it through her eyes, and he had no doubt she would find it lacking. One large, long room, a basic but fully functional kitchen across one end, and a table on a side wall next to one of the large windows.

Against the opposite wall was the couch where he did a lot of his reading, a small coffee table piled with books, and a couple of chairs. In a few feet of space not occupied by windows and the wood stove hung a flat-screen TV, which didn’t get used nearly as much as the reading lamp at the end of the couch. At the far end of the oblong room, opposite the kitchen, was his sleeping area, not even a bedroom, just his king-sized bed tucked into the alcove created by the wall of the bathroom that took up the rest of that space.

It worked for him, alone, but for someone no doubt used to the finer things, to more space and conveniences, it had to look rather Spartan and perhaps even pitiful.

Especially when that someone had been married to an architect, who would no doubt have laughed at the simple, barn-like lines of the place.

“This is wonderful!”

Her exclamation caught him completely off guard. And now he not only looked at her, he stared at her. “What?” he said, blankly.

“The wood on the walls and ceiling, I would have thought it would be too much, but it blends so well with the just slightly different flooring and the cabinets. And the wide-open space…it reminds me of Jackson’s place.”

He’d only been in the place where Jackson and Jeremy now lived once, back when it had been Clark, the Baylors’ foreman’s place, but he remembered enough to see her point.

“He’s got a better kitchen.”Well that sounded lame, Fox.

She turned that way. “You have a fridge, a sink, a stove with an oven, a microwave…and a coffee machine. What else do you need?” She turned back, and she was smiling at him so genuinely he couldn’t doubt she meant what she’d said. “Well,” she added, the smile becoming a grin, “assuming you have an indoor bathroom.”

It was so obviously teasing he found himself smiling back. “No bathtub, though. Just a shower.”

“I imagine there are times you might miss a good long soak, after a long day of wrestling horses and iron.”

There were, in fact, days like that. Days when his weary muscles protested after exactly the exertions she’d described. Enough that he’d thought about putting in a hot tub out on the deck, as silly as that seemed for a place that got as hot as Texas did.

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