Cassie's Cowboy Daddy (3 page)

“Since my children and I are going to be living here, don't you think it would be a good idea if we were on a first-name basis?” she asked, rising to face him.

He stared at her a moment before he nodded, stepped aside and motioned toward the hall. “All right,
Cassie.
Let's go into my study.”

She normally hated confrontations, but she looked forward to this one. Logan Murdock needed to be treated to a few home truths. And the sooner, the better. She'd been around one too many selfish, self-centered men to let this one get the best of her.

She only wished his deep baritone hadn't sounded so sexy, or that she hadn't preceded him down the hall. His voice had that rough bedroom quality that sent a tremor passing through her when he said her name, and she could feel his gaze on her backside as surely as if he touched her there.

The man was, without a doubt, the most infuriating, obstinate soul Cassie had ever met. But he made her knees wobble and her lungs forget to take in air.

Logan brushed past her to open the door, and a tingle raced the length of her. Reminding herself to breathe, she entered the study and looked around in an attempt to distract herself from the unsettling reaction. To her disappointment, it was no different than any of the other rooms in the house—cherry wainscoting, massive pieces of leather-and-walnut furniture and neutral, nondescript drapes. It appeared Logan Murdock was stuck in a decorating rut.

“Does it meet with your approval?” he asked from somewhere behind her.

Cassie turned toward the sound of his voice, but instead of the snappy comeback she'd intended, she let loose a startled squeak. A huge bear in the corner loomed over Logan, mouth agape, claws extended, and after all the talk about Samson, it took a moment for her to realize the beast was poised for all eternity in the ferocious, battle-ready stance.

She shuddered and turned away. Instead of her gaze settling on something innocuous, she came face-to-face with the largest snake she'd ever seen outside the confines of a zoo. It was sitting in the middle of the mantel above the fireplace, four inches of rattles protruding from the tan-and-brown-blotched coil, the
raised head promising a deadly bite from its enormous, bared fangs.

What sort of man kept such hideous works of taxidermy in his home? she wondered, spotting a lynx on the shelves beside the fireplace. The animal was frozen forever in what looked to be a really lousy mood.

“No wonder you keep this door closed,” Cassie said, her voice slightly shaky. “No one in their right mind would want to come in here.”

It was all Logan could do to keep from laughing out loud at Cassie's shocked expression. Her face had paled to a pasty white and she looked ready to bolt for the door. She had no way of knowing this room had scared the hell out of him when he was a kid. Or that the stuffed animals were a lot older than he was.

“They threatened the welfare of the Lazy Ace,” he stated, lowering himself into the chair behind the desk. “When they attacked the livestock, my family had no choice but to deal with them.”

“You see me as a threat.” Cassie turned to glare at him. “Is this your way of telling me I'm the next to be stuffed and mounted?”

Logan watched her cheeks color a pretty pink as the double meaning of her words registered with both of them. He swallowed hard and his body responded in ways he'd rather not dwell on as a very provocative scenario flashed through his mind. This wasn't going the way he'd planned. He was supposed to be discussing her departure from the Lazy Ace, not trying to hide the fact that her remark excited the hell out of him.

“I…uh, never said you were a threat.”

“You didn't have to.” She sat in the leather chair in front of his desk, her arms crossed beneath her breasts, her expression defiant. “Once you found out who I was, you turned off the charm and turned on the hostility.”

“You weren't exactly Miss Congeniality yourself.” He leaned back in the high-backed chair and sighed heavily. “Look, taking potshots at each other isn't going to get us anywhere. What do you say we start over?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” she agreed. “I think that might make our living here more tolerable.”

Every time she mentioned staying on the ranch, the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up and his gut felt as if he'd been punched.

Logan squared his shoulders. He knew beyond a shadow of doubt he wasn't going to like what she had to say, but he'd always been of the opinion that a situation should be dealt with head-on.

“Why don't you tell me why you want to live here, then we'll go from there,” he suggested.

“All right.” She took a deep breath, then met his gaze. “Uncle Silas bequeathed money to my cousins, but his last wish for me and the twins was a new way of life. By leaving me his half of the Lazy Ace Cattle Company, he's provided me the opportunity to stay at home to raise my girls.” Her relieved smile made the knot in Logan's gut twist even tighter. “I remember hearing Uncle Silas repeatedly say the unhurried pace of rural Wyoming was the perfect place to raise children. And he was right. It's much safer
here, the girls will have a healthy atmosphere away from the smog and fumes of an overcrowded city, and I'll be with them to watch and enjoy every moment of their lives, instead of hearing about it from a baby-sitter.”

By the time she finished telling him about her desire to be a full-time mother and how important it was for her to raise her kids in a safe, wholesome environment, Logan felt as if he'd been blindsided by a steamroller. If he insisted she leave now, he'd feel like a low-down, sorry excuse for a skunk.

“Wouldn't you rather live in town?” he asked hopefully. He knew all too well the dangers the area posed to women and children. But if he tried to explain that to her now, she'd think it was nothing more than a ploy to get her off the Lazy Ace.

She shook her head. “I've analyzed it from every angle and arrived at the same conclusion each time. It was the nicest thing Uncle Silas could have ever done for us. I want the girls to grow up here where they can run and play.” She gave him a pointed look. “And I want to be here to oversee my share of the ranch.”

Logan left his chair to pace back and forth behind the desk. “I could keep you informed of all business transactions in a quarterly report when I send a check for your part of the profits. Like I did for Silas.”

“Nothing against you, Mr. Murdock, but it's my inheritance and I think it would be in my best interest to be here in order to watch over it.”

“The Murdock and Hastings families have been in business together for over a hundred years….”

“I know,” she said, nodding. “I've heard the
story since I was old enough to listen—first from my father and grandfather, then after they passed away, from Uncle Silas. Your great-grandfather, Jake Murdock, and my great-grandfather, Ned Hastings, left St. Louis with nothing but their six-shooters and a deed for a large piece of prime ranch land they'd won in a poker game.”

“That's right,” Logan agreed. “And it was your great-grandfather who lost interest and moved back to Missouri thirty-five years later,” he said pointedly. “He and the rest of your family have been perfectly happy as silent partners in the ranch. The Murdocks were the ones who stuck it out and made the Lazy Ace what it is today.”

“I'm well aware of that,” she said, her patience beginning to wear on his nerves. “But when Uncle Silas willed me his share of the ranch, I made a firm decision to become an
active
partner. It's not fair that you and your family suffered all the hardships, while my family sat back and did nothing. Besides, I want to have firsthand knowledge of how you're handling our livelihood.”

Logan stopped to glare at her. “I'm a man of my word. If that was good enough for your uncle, it should be good enough for you.”

“I'm not my uncle, Mr. Murdock. Put yourself in my shoes. Would you trust someone you didn't know with the stakes this high?” When he remained silent, she smiled and rose to leave. “I'm no different. This is my children's future we're discussing and I'm not about to leave anything to chance.”

“But what about your family?” Logan asked desperately. “Won't you miss seeing them?”

She shook her head. “There's no reason for me to ever return to St. Louis. My parents are both deceased and I don't have any brothers or sisters.” Opening the office door, she advised, “You might as well accept the fact that, from now on, my daughters and I will be calling the Lazy Ace home.”

He watched her close the door with a quiet click. “Not if I have anything to do with it, lady,” he muttered.

C
assie stood at the foot of the stairs, feather duster in one hand and a bottle of furniture polish in the other. Where should she start?

Yesterday, after finding Logan in the bathtub, she hadn't given cleaning the house a second thought. A warm shiver coursed through her. She doubted there was a woman alive who could think of dusting and polishing woodwork after seeing Logan Murdock in the buff.

And she'd told a real whopper yesterday when she'd said his body was unremarkable. Just the memory of all that masculine skin and the feel of those rock-hard muscles pressed against her had kept her awake most of the night. Which was about the dumbest thing she'd ever let happen. She wasn't the least bit interested in Logan or his impressive muscle groups.

Shaking her head to dislodge the memory of his impressive assets from her traitorous brain, she stared at the living room. The man might have a gorgeous body, but he was a slob. Plain and simple. And the reality of the monumental task before her was almost enough to make her rethink her decision to move to the Lazy Ace.

That's probably why he's not married.
Any woman in her right mind would take one look at the condition of the house and run as hard and fast as she could to get away.

A saddle draped the back of one armchair, while an odd assortment of jeans, shirts and white cotton briefs graced the back of the other. Newspapers, magazines, cups and glasses covered the tables beside the chairs and the coffee table in front of the big leather couch.

Dazed, Cassie turned her attention to the stone fireplace on the far side of the room. The moose head hanging above the mantel sported a Colorado Rockies ball cap, a pair of oversize sunglasses and a necktie screen printed with popular cartoon characters.

“You've got to be kidding,” Ginny said, walking up beside her. “It looks like a war zone.”

Cassie nodded as she walked over to the fireplace to run the feather duster over the mantel. The cloud raised by the simple action made her sneeze. “When I called last week, Hank said the place needed a woman's touch.” She picked up a pair of stiff socks from the stone hearth and held them at arm's length. “But he failed to mention I'd need a bulldozer to clear out the clutter. It's going to take me weeks to get this place into shape.”

“Funny you should mention that,” Ginny said, grinning. “Hank and I were talking just this morning about how much you'll have to do to get things straightened up.”

“Tell me about it,” Cassie said dryly. She sneezed again. “This place has dust bunnies the size of buffalo.”

Ginny nodded. “And you're going to need help. If you don't mind putting up with me for another week or two, I think I'll call the office and ask for more time off.”

“Oh, Ginny, I hate for you to use your vacation helping me clean.” Cassie took the cap, tie and sunglasses from the moose's head. “But I'm not going to turn you down if you really want to stay.”

“Good.” Ginny's grin was a little too bright, considering the task before them. “I'll go find Hank and ask him if he'd mind moving some of this heavy furniture so we can clean under it.”

Ginny couldn't hide the color in her cheeks or the sparkle in her eyes that had nothing whatsoever to do with thoughts of cleaning. It did, however, have everything to do with finding Hank.

Cassie truly felt sorry for her best friend. An incurable romantic, Ginny still believed in finding her knight in shining armor and living happily-ever-after.

But thanks to her late husband, Stan, that was a myth Cassie had abandoned a long time ago.

A knot of disappointment formed in her stomach at the thought of the man she'd vowed to cherish until death. When they married, Cassie had taken for granted that Stan would settle down and work with
her to build a future. Unfortunately, that hadn't been the case.

They'd been married only a few months when Cassie realized that it had been Stan's self-centeredness, not immaturity, that prevented him from accepting the responsibilities of marriage. Even if he hadn't died, they wouldn't have stayed together.

She blinked back tears and shook her head. No, happily-ever-afters happened only in fairy tales.

 

Cussing a blue streak, Logan pitched a bale of straw over the side of the loft. Four more followed in rapid succession. When each one burst open from colliding with the dirt floor below, he gritted his teeth and barely suppressed the urge to growl. Instead of lessening the frustration burning in his gut, he'd only created more.

“Logan, you're bein' a real pain in the ass. I wish you'd get off your high horse.” Hank propped his fists on his hips and nodded at the broken bales at his feet. “Now I'm gonna have to get the wheelbarrow so I can get this bedding down to Nicoma's stall.”

“Maybe it'll keep you busy enough to avoid making a fool of yourself over the blonde,” Logan shot back.

“Somebody in this barn is makin' a fool of himself, all right. But it ain't me.” Hank laughed. “At least I've got the good sense to admit the scenery around this old place has improved a hell of a lot since yesterday.”

Logan gripped the ladder and started down. “But for how long?”

He knew he was being irrational. But after tossing and turning all night from the memory of Cassie's soft body pressed against his, being reasonable wasn't an option.

Skipping the last two rungs, he jumped to the ground and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the open doorway. “Just how long do you think it'll take before the boredom sets in with those two?”

“Maybe it won't. Not all females are like Andrea.” Hank shook his head. “I never could see the two of you together. I doubt she would survive living anywhere that didn't include a mall and a four-star restaurant.”

Snorting, Logan ignored the man's comment about his lapse in judgment. He didn't intend to waste time thinking about the past. It was Cassie Wellington and the present that bothered him. A lot.

“Once the widow and her friend figure out just how remote this place is, they won't be able to get away from here fast enough,” Logan said, marching to the end of the barn. He grasped the wooden handles of the wheelbarrow and rolled it next to the broken bales of straw. “Just think how they'd react when winter hits and we're all snowed in for days at a time.”

“That's when it starts to get interestin',” Hank said, his grin wide.

The thought of himself and Cassie stranded for several days, alone in the house with all those bedrooms to choose from, made Logan's mouth go dry.

Disgusted with himself for giving the notion a second thought, he spoke as much for his own benefit as for Hank's. “Stop thinking with your hormones
and start thinking with your head. I doubt either one of them could make it to the first frost without going stir-crazy.”

“Then what are you worried about?” Hank asked. He grabbed a pitchfork leaning against the wall and forked straw into the cart. “If what you say is true, Cassie and the babies should be packed up and on their way back to St. Louis by the last of the month.”

Logan shook his head and guided the wheelbarrow to the end of the barn. “It's not that easy.” Stopping at the open stall, he turned to face Hank. “I always thought Silas was a few cards shy of a full deck, but I never realized the old codger had a mean streak to go with it. He knew about my mother dying because we couldn't get her to the hospital in time and the hell that broke loose afterward. But before he died, he filled Cassie's head with the idea that this place is some kind of Shangri-la for raising kids.”

“Well, it's where I intend to raise my kids,” Hank said, shrugging.

“Hank?”

Logan watched Hank's face split into a wide grin at the sight of Ginny walking down the center aisle of the barn.

“And here comes the mother of those future kids,” Hank said, his voice low.

“You just met the woman,” Logan muttered.

“Doesn't matter.” Hank handed him the pitchfork and headed toward Ginny. “I know what I want.”

Logan stared as Hank met Ginny halfway up the long corridor, took her into his arms and kissed her like a soldier returning from war. An image of Cassie in
his
arms, clinging to
him
as he kissed her, flashed
through Logan's mind, and an unfamiliar feeling twisted his gut.

When Hank finally let her up for air, Ginny sounded breathless. “Cassie…and I…have been…cleaning the living room. Would you…mind helping us move some of the furniture?”

“Not at all.” Hank tucked Ginny to his side and, staring down at her, added, “I'd be more than happy to help you do anything, honey.” He kissed her forehead. “All you have to do is ask.”

Logan felt the knot in his stomach tighten further when Ginny giggled and wrapped her arm around Hank's waist. Following the enamored pair into the house to see what the two women had done to his home, Logan refused to acknowledge the sensation as anything other than hunger. It was getting close to lunchtime and he'd skipped breakfast.

Envy for the freedom Hank had to give his heart to a woman was an emotion Logan didn't feel. Ever.

 

Cassie watched the men pick up the massive couch as if it weighed nothing and move it to the far side of the room. They'd both rolled up their shirtsleeves, and she found herself fascinated by the play of muscles on Logan's forearms, the bulges tightening the fabric around his biceps.

Ginny walked in from the kitchen, and her brown eyes sparkled with admiration as she whispered, “Well, I'm in love.”

“It takes more than bulging biceps and brute strength to impress me,” Cassie said just as quietly.

Ginny gave her a knowing look. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Really.”

“Whatever you say, Cass.”

Saved from further defending her little white lie by the distant cries of her unhappy daughters, Cassie looped her arm through Ginny's. “Come on. You can go back to enjoying Hank's brawn later. Right now I need help getting the twins downstairs for lunch.”

“I don't know what Hank has, but if he could bottle and sell it, I'd buy a whole case,” Ginny said, looking over her shoulder at the men while Cassie pulled her along.

“I don't think you'll have to,” Cassie whispered. “Unless I miss my guess, you'll get all the free samples you want.”

“And I'll take all I can get.” Grinning, Ginny added, “Just remember, I saw Hank first.”

Climbing the stairs, Cassie laughed. “You're welcome to him.”

I'm more attracted to Logan.

The unwarranted thought made her stumble. Now, where had that come from?

She shook her head to dislodge the silly notion. She was about as interested in Logan Murdock as she was in rotating the tires on a car.

Ten minutes later, Cassie had Chelsea and Kelsie strapped in their high chairs and had just removed the warmed baby food from the microwave when she turned to find Logan standing in the doorway, watching her.

“You didn't have to go to all this trouble,” he said, referring to the huge bowl of beef stew on the table.

Cassie shrugged as she spooned the baby food into
divided plates and set them on the table. “We had to eat, and I like to cook.” Turning back, she took a towel from the counter, opened the oven door and bent to remove a pan of freshly baked bread. “I hope you like what we're having.”

“Uh…yeah, it's fine.” The air in Logan's lungs stalled and he had to force himself to exhale.

Oh, he liked what she had, all right. Her loose khaki camp shorts were by no means tight, but bent over as she was, they clung to her shapely little backside and caused a certain part of his body to come to full alert. Damn! As bottoms went, the Widow Wellington had the best-looking rear he'd seen in a month of Sundays. Maybe ever.

When the babies slapped their trays and let out high-pitched squeals, she turned to grin at them. His heart stopped right then and there. Dimples. Cassie had tiny little dimples denting her porcelain cheeks. Why hadn't he noticed them yesterday?

Damn! Ever since he'd sat next to Rosie Collins in second grade, he'd been a sucker for females with dimples. And that didn't bode well. Not well at all.

The toothless grins the twins flashed back at their mother revealed they both had dimples, too. As far as little kids went, they were cute. Real cute.

Logan felt a chunk of the wall he'd carefully constructed around his heart fall away. The little girls almost had him wishing for kids of his own. But that was ridiculous. Having kids wasn't, and never would be, an option for him.

Sliding into the chair at the head of the table, he felt sweat pop out on his forehead and he cursed himself as nine kinds of a fool. So Cassie had a pretty
smile, a shape that would tempt a eunuch and cute little kids. So what? She was trying to take over
his
ranch. He'd better not forget that.

“What do you lovely ladies have planned for this afternoon?” Hank asked, entering the kitchen with Ginny.

“I have to return the rented trailer before I'm charged for another day,” Cassie answered. Logan watched her tie bibs around the twins' necks, then seat herself in the chair facing them.

“I'm driving down to Bear Creek for supplies. I could take the trailer back for you,” Hank offered, holding Ginny's chair. He sat next to her. “By the way, do you think you could spare Ginny for a few hours this afternoon? I'd like to show her around town.”

“I really should help Cassie,” Ginny said. “She'll need me to watch the babies while she finishes the living room.”

As distracted as he was by Cassie and her killer dimples, even Logan could detect the lack of enthusiasm in Ginny's voice.

He watched Cassie spoon lumpy-looking orange stuff into one twin's mouth, while she held a bottle for the other. No wonder the babies were slapping their trays. He would, too, if he had to eat that unappealing stuff.