Page 66 of Destined for the Cowboy

“She’s changed,” he said as Mrs. V moved away.

“Or maybe you have,” Tris said.

He looked at her steadily. “I have. Thanks to you.”

“It was always there, Logan. Maybe I just helped with…the excavation.”

He couldn’t help it, he laughed. Loudly. Some heads turned, and he guessed it was probably because even though he knew most of the people here tonight, he doubted many of them had ever heard him really laugh. Because he hadn’t, really. Until Tris had come into his life.

Seeing Mrs. Valencia had reminded him of the scared, lonely kid he’d been. “I really have changed,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Tris moved away from the knot of people that had clustered next to them. He followed, automatically, inevitably. When they were off by themselves, she looked up at him steadily.

“You shouldn’t forget that kid you were, but he’s not you anymore,” she said quietly. Once more she’d read him like abook she knew well. But it didn’t unsettle him as it once had, it only made him feel…luckier.

Luckier than you deserve—

He cut off the old, instinctive reaction. Grimaced as he said, “I’m not sure I can completely put him behind me.”

“He’s part of what made you the man you are. Just don’t let him run things anymore.”

He thought about those words as the night went on. As people came up to talk he thought he felt a change there, too. He’d always appreciated the respect the people of Last Stand gave him, but had always assumed it was for his work, not for himself. Because that kid he’d been had been sure he didn’t deserve it.

That kid was still there, jabbing him with ideas, telling him it was Tris who drew those people over to chat, not him.…don’t let him run things anymore.Her words echoed in his mind, and he made himself accept the contact for what it really was, an assumption of friendship. It was a strange, new feeling for him, and for the first time he thought he just might be able to push the past far enough down that it would no longer pop up to taunt him.

Tris had done that. She was the one who’d make him think, made him stop, made him able to ignore that voice in his head that seemed only to want to tear him down.

While Mr. Herdmann, publisher of the local paper,The Defender, who to his shock had approached him about a profile their star human interest reporter—who also happened to be Mrs. Shane Highwater—wanted to do on him, paused to get a refill on his drink, Logan looked over to where she was talking to her brother and Nic. She seemed to feel his gaze because she turned her head, giving him a smile that had him wanting to bail on this gathering right now and go straight back to his placewhere they could be alone together. Another change. Before he’d have wanted to leave, but just to get out of the crowd.

Now he wanted to run to, not away.

And as they finally left, after Shane Highwater declared he was all poured out, he found himself glancing at her as they drove, another realization crystallizing in his brain. Something he should have realized long ago. Something that just might silence that kid forever.

Tris wanted him. She was smart, clever, and quick. She was observant, perceptive, and sharp as a horseshoe nail.

And hotter than any forge.

So shouldn’t the fact—undeniable after the last week—that she wanted him mean something? That he was worth it?

He was still marveling over the changes in his life that had begun that day at the Baylor ranch, when they had bumped into each other in the barn, when they got home and he paused to hang up his jacket. He turned around to find the room empty. Once, that might have been a jolt, but now he knew where to find her. Where she always went when they first arrived here, the deck looking out over the Hill Country.

He walked out there, and there she was, standing by the railing. They were approaching a full moon, and the light painted the rolling landscape with a cool, almost surreal glow.

He stopped behind her and slipped his arms around her. She let out a sigh that was so clearly happy it made his chest tighten. She leaned back against him, and again he had to process the revelation that for the first time in his life there wasn’t one single thing he would change.

“It’s nice to be home,” she said.

“I’m glad you feel like that.”

She twisted in his arms, although he didn’t let go, didn’t want to let go. She looked up at him. “I do. More than anyplace I’ve ever been. I feel as if this is what I’ve always wanted. I just neverrealized.” She was facing him now, and slipped her arms around him, pressing herself against him as if she’d felt that same need to never let go. “Thank you. For sharing this with me.”

“I’d share anything with you.”

Her arms tightened. “I know.” She let out a long, contented-sounding sigh. “That’s why I feel like I’m home, after a long, hard road.”

She did understand. More than anyone ever had. And the words he’d never expected to say broke from him.

“I love you, Tris.”

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