Just What the Cowboy Needed Page 6

“I know.” The thought amused Tracy, too. “His skill set runs more toward riding, roping and herding cattle.”

  “I don’t see him as the doll-playing, tea-partying type either.” In fact, Grace had seen the evidence for herself that he wasn’t.

  While they chatted, the waitress brought their food and drinks, then quietly left them to eat.

  “Some of that is my fault.” Tracy took a bite of her salad, then chewed and swallowed as she glanced at her daughter. Cassie was more interested in the small coloring book and crayons the waitress had brought than her food. Her mother sighed. “My name is Tracy and I’m an enabler.”

  “Oh?”

  “When she was born, he was so in love with her and so in over his head. I just didn’t have the heart to throw him into the deep end of the pool with an infant—changing diapers, nighttime feedings. And I was breastfeeding. He visited her every day and I was glad he did. We’re good friends.” She sipped her iced tea. “When she was potty-trained and comfortable being away from me, we fell into the routine of her being at his house on weekends.”

  “He told me he’s never been on his own with her this long before.” Grace speared some turkey and lettuce with her fork and ate it.

  “Whenever I brought up the idea of splitting time with her, he looked like I was a two-headed alien from the planet Mars. I couldn’t do that to either of them. Although I wanted to keep our arrangement fair and give him as much time with her as he wanted. He’s paying child support, and it’s generous. He’s such a good guy.”

  “A good guy? That sounds like something I want to know about.” The pretty, blue-eyed blonde who stopped by their table was wearing a white chef’s jacket. That was a big clue that she’d put together their food. “Who are we talking about, ladies?”

  “Cassie’s father,” Tracy said. “This is the best salad, Lucy. And you know I’d rather have your gourmet burger, but I’m making sacrifices so I can fit into my wedding dress.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I’ll call that salad ‘the bridal gown greens.’” She looked at Grace. “I’m Lucy Bishop, by the way. Half owner of the Harvest Café.”

  “Grace Flynn,” she said. “Nice to meet you. And this is a really good salad.”

  “Grace is here to take care of Cassie while I get ready for the wedding, then go on the honeymoon with my honey.”

  Lucy was looking at Grace, but in a conspiratorial whisper she said to Cassie, “Do we like her?”

  “Yes. Grace makes blueberry muffins for my tea parties and we look at elephant shadows on the ceiling when I get scared at night.”

  At the woman’s puzzled look, Grace added, “It makes perfect sense in context.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for that,” the chef said. “And speaking of good men... Have you met Tucker Hart?”

  “Yes. The day before yesterday at the Fourth of July parade,” Grace answered. “Max and Jamie were there, too.”

  “There’s something in the Hart genes.” The other woman sighed. “Those are some exceptionally nice-looking men.”

  “My daddy is handsome,” Cassie said, catching the drift of the comments.

  “Yes, he is, honey,” Lucy agreed. “And your uncle Max is not hard on the eyes and like a big kid. And how lucky is he? Getting well paid to play a game. Uncle Tucker is awfully cute, too. And funny.”

  “Tucker came back to town recently,” Tracy explained. “He builds houseboats and has traveled all over the country. Now he’s here because his grandfather left him a good-sized parcel of waterfront property on Blackwater Lake and he finally has the time to come home and build a community there.”

  Grace envied the Harts. Yes, there’d been a rough patch when their mom split from their father but they landed with family who cared. They had roots and each other. A connection like that was something Grace had always wanted and would never have.

  “That sounds like an exciting venture,” she said.

  “Tucker’s pretty jazzed about it.” Lucy appeared to be personally invested.

  “Seems like you’ve gotten to know Tucker pretty well.” Tracy had clearly noticed the more-than-friendly-interest tone, too.

  “He’s a bachelor who doesn’t cook and comes in here to eat a lot.” Lucy’s exaggerated shrug seemed to be overdoing the indifference just a little. “We talk. He’s friendly. I like him.”

  “Oh?” There was a tell-me-more twinkle in Tracy’s dark eyes.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. And just because your head is filled with glitter and sparkle and happily-ever-afters, that doesn’t mean anyone else wants all that shiny stuff. Am I right, Grace?”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” When the other woman held up a hand for a high five, Grace accommodated her.

  “See?” Lucy looked satisfied. “Someone else knows that glitter just leaves a mess to clean up and you can never quite get rid of it.”

  “Have you ever heard that expression about protesting too much?” Tracy looked at both of them, then settled her gaze on Lucy. “I’m just saying that you show all the signs of having a soft spot for Tucker Hart.”

  “And all I’m saying is that he seems like a really good guy,” Lucy protested. “Someone should marry him.”

  “Aha.” Tracy’s tone was full of gotcha.

  “I didn’t say anything about me marrying him. But Blackwater Lake is full of single women, and he could have his pick. A woman could do worse.”

  Grace figured that, just like herself, Lucy had her reasons for not wanting to get involved with a man. She planned to buy a house and put down roots in Buckskin Pass, and nothing was going to sidetrack her. Especially a man.

  “It’s getting hotter out here than my kitchen,” Lucy said cheerfully. “I think I’ll go back to it. Miss Cassie, would you care to come with me? I’m sure I can interest you in some dessert that just came out of the oven.”

  “Is it chocolate cake?” When the other woman smiled and nodded, Cassie turned pleading eyes on Tracy. “Can I, Mommy? Please.”

  “Of course.”

  The little girl slid off her chair and took the hand Lucy held out. Together they walked toward the kitchen.

  Now that they were alone, Grace didn’t have to choose her words carefully. There were things she wanted to know, and now was a chance to find out.

  “I’m assuming you know all about Logan’s life before settling with his grandfather here in Blackwater Lake.”

  Tracy nodded. “I can’t imagine living in a car with my child.”

  “He told me because I noticed that he carries the overprotective thing to a whole new level.”

  “I worry about that,” the other woman admitted. “Cassie is only five and isn’t pushing back on it yet. But she will. If he doesn’t loosen up by the time she’s a teenager, there’s no telling how her rebellion will look or what kind of fallout there will be.”

  “Have you met his father?”

  “Yes.” Tracy frowned. “Logan’s cousin got married last summer, and Foster was there. Charming man. Hard to believe he was such a toad to his wife and kids. But people change.”

  “The way Logan looked when he talked about him...” Grace remembered the dark intensity in his eyes. The loathing that was palpable.

  “Logan believes he could be like his father.”

  “And if he doesn’t maintain rigid control over everything his inner toad will get loose,” Grace guessed.

  “That’s what I think, too.” Tracy sighed. “I just wish he could relax and enjoy his daughter. He’s missing out on so much by holding himself back.”

  “Maybe there’s some glitter here, besides your wedding, I mean. Because of the situation, he’s spending eight weeks with Cassie. Putting in the time is really the only way he’s going to feel more comfortable being a father.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Grace had been curiou
s about something else and just decided to come out and ask. Tracy seemed to be pretty forthcoming about their relationship. “I have a question, and feel free to tell me to mind my own business.”

  “Okay.”

  “You and Logan get along so great, I can’t help wondering why you didn’t get married.”

  Clearly not offended, Tracy smiled at the question. “When I got pregnant he proposed.”

  “Obviously you said no.”

  “Actually I laughed first.”

  “Ouch,” Grace said.

  “I wasn’t making fun. He was very sweet and trying to do the right thing. Which is why it’s so stupid that he’s afraid of being like his father.” Tracy’s smile disappeared. “The truth is that we’re better off as friends. He agreed—was actually relieved, I think. I want him in my life, as my friend and my daughter’s father. But it would never have worked out if he was my husband.”

  “Why?”

  “He’ll never let himself fall in love, and I wasn’t prepared to settle for less than that.”

  “I see.”

  Love ruined his mother’s life, and he wasn’t going to give it a chance to do the same to him. She knew the other woman didn’t mean the words as a warning, but that’s just what they were. And Grace was taking it to heart. Literally.

  Chapter Five

  It was late when Logan headed toward the house, and he was bone tired. But there was a new foal, and that made him happy. Not wanting to track barn muck all the way from the living room, he came around back and left his dirty boots outside before walking into the kitchen. It was dark, but he could see the TV on in the family room.

  The next thing he knew Grace was there and had turned on the overhead recessed lighting. “Hi.”

  Her fresh prettiness nearly took his breath away. Adding to the effect was the fact that someone was here to greet him. After a long day of ranch work there was almost always an empty house waiting. The wave of loneliness following that thought was pretty close to pain.

  “Logan?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think anyone was awake.”

  “Cassie tried to stay up to see you but couldn’t keep her eyes open. She wanted to show you her hair. She and Tracy went to the salon for a trial run.”

  “I’m sorry I missed it,” he said.

  “I took pictures for you.” She slid her cell from her jeans pocket and moved close while touching the phone screen to find what she wanted. “Here is her hair. She and her mom decided part up and the rest down her back. There will be flowers at the crown where the sides are pulled on the top of her head.”

  She scrolled through several photos, all from different angles, but he was having trouble concentrating because Grace smelled so damn good. And he could feel the warmth of her body, what with her arm brushing his. That sure as hell fried his brain, but he had to come up with an appropriate response or his secret would be out. The one about how badly he wanted her.

  Logan cleared his throat. “Her hair looks really pretty.”

  “She thought so and was very excited.” Grace looked up at him and smiled. “I have some shots of her dress, but she doesn’t want you to see it until she walks down the aisle. Her mom told her it’s a thing that the groom doesn’t get to see the bride until then, so your daughter decided that worked for her, too.”

  “Did you get to see it?”

  “Of course. It’s just the men who are kept in the dark.”

  “So it’s a rule?” he asked.

  “One of the most sacred. Female code of the road—always make an entrance.”

  “Whatever makes her happy.”

  Logan was pretty sure if Grace entered a room and he was blindfolded, the scent of her skin would give her away and he’d be dazzled. For a split second he was afraid he’d said that out loud, but she wasn’t looking at him with a horrified expression on her face. Maybe it would be possible to get his head on straight if he put some distance between them. He walked over to the sink and thoroughly washed his hands.

  “It’s late,” she said. “Did you eat anything?”

  “No. I’ll just have a quick sandwich or something, then hit the sack.”

  “There aren’t any leftovers from dinner. Tracy fed Cassie after shopping, before she dropped her off here. And I had a salad.”

  “No problem. I’ll find something. Why don’t you go on up to bed.”

  Bed. A three-letter word that made his body go tight with need. He got a vivid picture in his mind of him, her and a mattress with their bodies so close you couldn’t see light between them. He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong to deserve this punishment, but without a doubt there would be a screwup in his future. Maybe he could bank this torture to pay for it.

  “I’ll go up. But only after you get a proper hot meal.” Her voice was full of stubbornness, and he just didn’t have the energy to fight her on this.

  “That sounds good.” Understatement of the century, he thought. It sounded too awesome to be real.

  “Sit down. I’ll get you a beer.”

  “Waiting on me is not really in your job description.”

  “Then let’s just call it my good deed for the day,” she said.

  “Okay.” Again he was too tired to argue and just sat on a stool at the island.

  She opened the refrigerator and checked out the contents. “I’m thinking omelet. Quick, hot, satisfying.”

  Like sex, he thought. He was on a roll. Maybe his sister was right about men being pigs. At the very least he had a one-track mind, and this seemed to be his fallback position every time he saw Grace.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Does that sound okay to you?”

  “Yeah.”

  She nodded, then grabbed a longneck beer and tried unsuccessfully to twist off the cap. Without a word, she handed it to him. “That is not my area of expertise,” she said once he took it. “I’m better with cooking.”

  “I can handle it.” He easily opened the bottle.

  There was a wry expression on her face. “I loosened it for you.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “I plan to. Denial works for me.”

  That got a reluctant smile out of him. It actually made him feel better than the long drink he took from his beer.

  “You should do that more often,” she said.

  “What? Drink?”

  “No. Smile.” She turned away and got busy combining mushrooms, spinach, tomatoes, cheese and eggs in a pan to cook. When the omelet was ready, she slipped it onto a plate along with a fork and slid it across to him. “Get started on that while I make some toast.”

  He would have told her not to go to any more trouble on his account except his mouth was full. And it tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten in his life. Could be he was starving for food. But he was pretty sure it fell more into the starving-for-her category.

  When the bread was toasted, she buttered it and set another plate in front of him before mixing three different kinds of berries in a bowl. Finally, she fixed herself a cup of tea, then took the stool beside his and stared at his empty plate.

  “I wish I could say I’m that good a cook, but you were probably hungry enough to wolf down Pop-Tarts.”

  “That’s a fair guess. You’re also a really good cook.”

  “I’m glad. So what kept you so late?” She cupped the steaming mug in her hands and blew on it.

  The sight of her mouth made sweat bead on his forehead and had heat pooling low in his belly. Her words echoed hollowly in his head, and it took several moments to process them and form a coherent response.

  “A pregnant mare went into labor. She’s high risk after having a stillborn baby, and I wanted to be there when she foaled.”

  “Is the baby okay?” Grace asked.

  “Mother and baby are fine. Everything wa
s textbook perfect.”

  “That is so cool.” She smiled, and her eyes sparkled with pleasure at the news. “It’s too bad Cassie didn’t get to watch. She would have loved seeing the new baby horse.”

  “I don’t know. She’s kind of little to be there for that. Could be upsetting. It’s not pretty.” He picked up his beer and tilted the bottle toward her to make a point. “And you can call me overprotective if you want, but I can live with that.”

  “You’re her father and have every right—no, every obligation—to question and censor what she’s exposed to. And obviously Tracy should have a say. But here’s something to think about. She’s a rancher’s kid, and animal birth is a part of that.”

  Even though Cassie was normally here only on weekends, Logan couldn’t guarantee that a situation like this wouldn’t come up during her visit. “Good point.”

  Grace looked thoughtful. “Although, I’ve never seen a horse give birth. You’re probably right about her not witnessing it just yet. But I know she’ll love seeing the baby.”

  “Yeah.” He speared a strawberry with his fork. “But you also have a point. She’s going to be here on the ranch, and that means being exposed to life happening on its own terms. What if I start her out with seeing the baby first? The finished product so that she knows there’s a good outcome. Then maybe it wouldn’t hurt for her to see kittens born or a litter of puppies.”

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” she said.

  Her approval made him feel like a million bucks. Why did her opinion matter so much? Probably because he knew she didn’t shy away from telling him when he was stepping in it, so he could believe her when she told him he was doing something right.

  Could be the food hiking his blood sugar back to normal, but he wasn’t as dog tired as he’d been walking up from the barn a little while ago. Or maybe his renewed energy had something to do with her company. He wasn’t used to having anyone here waiting for him when he walked in the door. The fact that he liked it bothered him more than a little. But making the feeling go away was like stopping a speeding train.

  He wasn’t a superhero, just a man. Grace was an antidote to the loneliness he confronted every day, but his overprotective streak didn’t just include Cassie. Unfortunately, he was his father’s son, and sooner or later the bastard inside him would get out. His plan was to keep it from happening with Grace. He wouldn’t hurt her for the world.