Cassie's Cowboy Daddy (6 page)

Hank had adored Ginny from the moment they met. What would it be like to be loved like that? To be married to someone who loved his spouse more than he loved himself?

She certainly hadn't had that with her late husband. Even if Stan had lived, their marriage wouldn't have lasted. Two days before he died in that car accident, he'd filed papers to divorce her.

But what would it be like if she and Logan were married? Would he be happy and content to be a good husband and father? Or would he be selfish and self-centered like Stan?

Something deep inside told her Logan wasn't like that. She had the feeling that once he gave his heart to a woman, he'd cherish her for the rest of his life. The thought increased the longing deep inside her.

Cassie shook her head to dislodge her wayward thoughts. She had absolutely no business wondering what marriage to Logan would be like. Or, for that matter, what it would be like to be married to any other man.

She wished Ginny and Hank all the best. But her marriage to Stan had taught her one very important lesson, and one that she'd do well to remember. Happily-ever-afters existed only in fairy tales.

 

Logan laid down the hammer to wipe the sweat from his brow with the shirt he'd removed earlier.
Tossing it on the tailgate of his truck, he stared at the tree line. He enjoyed the feel of the midday sun on his back, the heat easing his tired muscles. Hopefully, the unseasonably warm temperature meant they'd have a mild winter.

He glanced at the cabin. Whatever the weather, he fully intended to make the place as cozy as he could for Cassie and the babies. Not that they'd stay long. He had no doubt she'd have them all packed up and moved back to St. Louis by the first frost. But just in case, he'd make sure they were safe and warm in the little house.

Logan frowned. That sounded like something a man did for his family.

It was completely ridiculous, but the thought had him wondering what being married to Cassie would be like. Had she been happy with her late husband? She hadn't mentioned the man once since she'd arrived on the ranch. How long had he been dead? The guy couldn't have been gone for much more than a year, because the twins weren't that old. Had she come to terms with the man's passing? If the way she'd kissed him was any indication, he figured she had.

Just thinking about her response to his kisses had him halfway hard. And why didn't the idea of her and her little family leaving the Lazy Ace create the anticipation for him that it had a few days ago? Wasn't that what he wanted? Why had he lost the urgency he'd first felt when Hank mentioned renovating the foreman's cabin?

Shaking his head, Logan decided he'd better stop wondering about Cassie and concentrate on the pres
ent problem. It would be a hell of a lot safer than the answers he'd come up with to his speculation.

He sighed heavily. He still wanted to give Hank an interest in the ranch. But as long as Cassie refused to sell him her share, Logan couldn't do it. As it stood at the moment, he owned 50 percent. If he gave Hank anything, she'd hold controlling interest. And there was no way in hell Logan wanted that happening. She'd probably do something stupid like hang curtains in the windows of the horse stalls and try to braid the ends of the steers' tails.

Logan checked his watch. Hank still hadn't shown up. Where was the man, anyway? In all the years he'd known him, Logan could count on one hand the number of times that Hank had missed work. The first had been the morning after Nicoma stepped on his foot and Hank couldn't get his boot on. The second had been the day he'd attended the graveside services when Logan's dad had been buried.

“So this is what you've been working on.”

His back to the lane leading to the cabin, Logan hadn't noticed Cassie or the tandem stroller she was pushing. Turning, he sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of her.

Damn, but she looked good. The sunlight turned her strawberry-blond hair to a warm reddish gold, making him want to thread his fingers through it, to feel it spill over his hands as he kissed her, made love to her. His body stirred to life and a fresh wave of sweat that had nothing to do with the warm temperature beaded his forehead.

Her blue tank top exposed enough flawless porcelain skin to make his mouth water and his jeans
feel way too snug. But when she bent to check on the babies, her shorts stretched across her delectable little backside and Logan wondered what kept him from busting his fly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, wincing at his blunt tone. He shifted in an effort to relieve some of the pressure from his painfully tight jeans.

When her smile faded, Logan felt like a prize jerk.

“I brought you lunch,” she said, taking a small cooler from the back of the stroller.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I'm tired and more than a little irritated with Hank.”

Their hands touched when she passed the insulated container to him, and a jolt of electrified desire shot straight up his arm and exploded in the pit of his belly. He was in trouble. Big trouble. And if he had any sense, he'd jump into the truck and drive like hell down to Buffalo Gals Bar and Grill in Bear Creek.

But he had a feeling none of the willing little fillies he'd find there could take care of the ache building inside him. No. Only one woman held the scratch for his itch and she was standing right here in front of him.

“Speaking of Hank, I heard from Ginny about an hour ago.” She looked as if there was more to tell.

Opening the cooler, he removed a sandwich and can of soda. “And?”

“She and Hank won't be back for a week.”

Logan stopped unwrapping the sandwich for a moment to look at her. “Why? Where the hell are they?”

She took a deep breath, and he had a feeling he
wasn't going to like what she had to say. “They got married last night down in Cheyenne.”

He froze with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. “They did what?”

“They eloped,” she said. “They're on their way to Denver right now for their honeymoon.”

Staring at Cassie, Logan felt reality begin to sink in. He and Cassie were going to be stuck in the same house for the next week. Alone.

All alone.

His graphic curse made her eyes widen. “Could you please watch your language? I'd rather not have the twins' first words be something like
that.
”

“Sorry.”

He ran a hand across the back of his neck to ease his tightening muscles. If he could have gotten his hands on Hank at that very moment, Logan would cheerfully have choked the man. Couldn't Hank have postponed the honeymoon until after they got the foreman's cabin finished and Cassie and her babies moved in?

It would have been a damned sight easier on all concerned if he had. And especially for Logan. He was already having enough trouble keeping his hands off Cassie. What would happen now that Hank and Ginny weren't there to distract him?

His vivid memory replayed the previous night's events. Cassie lying soft and warm beneath him on the big four-poster bed, the sweet taste of her as his lips explored hers. Her breasts had filled his hands to perfection and her nipples had puckered immediately at his touch.

Sweat trickled from his temple down the side of
his face to his jaw. She was staring back at him, and he could tell she wasn't as unaffected by him as she'd like to let on. Her gaze caressed every inch of his bare chest and her hand had trembled when she'd handed him the cooler. He'd loved every minute of her inspection of his body, felt deeply satisfied by her inability to conceal her attraction.

“Whose house is this?” Cassie asked.

She was looking closely at the front of the little cottage. Given her penchant for rearranging things, she probably thought the door would look better in a different place.

“It's the foreman's house,” Logan answered, feeling guilty. She had no way of knowing he intended to move her and the babies into it.

“You knew Hank and Ginny were getting married?” She sounded hurt by the idea that she hadn't known about her friend's nuptials.

He shook his head. “It was as big a surprise to me as it was to you.”

“Then why are you working on it?”

“Hank suggested it,” Logan said, not wanting to reveal his plans.

Cassie grinned at him, and he almost groaned at the reappearance of her dimples. “I guess now we know why he made the suggestion. He was planning to spend time alone with Ginny.”

Logan frowned. What Cassie had said made sense. When Hank had suggested they work on the house, he'd planned all along to take up residence with Ginny in the cabin, and he'd suckered Logan into helping. The next time he saw Hank, Logan fully
intended to skin him alive, then nail his ornery hide to the barn.

Logan closed his eyes and shook his head. Now he'd be stuck with Cassie in
his
house. Alone.

His life was going to be pure hell and he'd be lucky to have a lick of sense left by the time she decided to pack up and move on.

B
y that evening, Cassie's headache still pounded unmercifully and her stomach had begun to churn. Every muscle and joint in her body ached and she alternated between chills and feeling as if she was burning up. When she bent over to remove a casserole from the oven, the throbbing in her head increased and she swayed as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

“Are you all right?” Logan asked, hanging his hat on a peg beside the back door. Looking concerned, he walked up to her. “Your cheeks look like somebody slapped you.”

She tried to shake her head, but winced at the discomfort the movement created. “It's just a little headache. I'll be fine. Dinner is almost ready, if you'd like to wash up.”

He reached out and placed his large palm on her forehead. “Damn! You're burning up.” Grabbing a couple of pot holders from the counter, he took the casserole from her and set it on the table, then, pulling out one of the chairs, he said, “Sit down.”

“I don't have time—”

“Dammit, I said sit.” He disappeared down the hall, only to return in a few minutes with a thermometer. “Open up,” he ordered.

“I have a more modern ther—”

He slipped the thin glass stick into her mouth before she could finish telling him about the nifty little instrument she used for the twins. All he'd have to do was stick that to her ear and they'd know what her temperature was in seconds.

“Now, keep your mouth shut for a few minutes so we can see just how high your fever is running.” He propped his hands on his lean hips. “Where are the babies?”

Cassie removed the thermometer. “In the—”

“Put that back in your mouth.”

“I can't answer you with—”

“Just point.”

If he thought his scowl would intimidate her, he was sadly mistaken. She felt too bad to care. “They're in the playpen in the living room.”

He took the thermometer from her and stuck it back into her mouth. “Will they be okay for a few minutes? Just nod or shake your head,” he added hastily.

She nodded and watched him disappear back down the hall. If she hadn't felt as if death would be a blessing, she'd wonder why he was overreacting. But
at the moment she couldn't concentrate on anything but how badly her head pounded and how much her muscles ached.

When he returned he smiled. “They're both sleeping.” He removed the thermometer and held it up to view the reading. “Damn! Your fever is over a hundred and three. We'd better get you to bed.”

“No.” She tried to get up, but her legs felt like limp noodles and she ached all over. “I've got too much to do.”

“Like what?”

She sighed tiredly, and with great effort finally managed to rise from the chair. “I have to finish dinner, feed and bathe the girls, then put them to bed and wash a load of clothes.”

Catching her around the waist, Logan supported her as he ushered her toward the stairs. “Don't worry about the twins. I'll see that everything is taken care of.”

She thought he sounded a little too confident for a man who'd never cared for children before. “You don't know what to do.”

He chuckled. “It can't be
that
hard. I'll figure it out.”

Too tired to argue, Cassie nodded and let him help her to her room. If she'd felt better, she might have cared that he had to help her change into her nightgown, but at the moment she was too sick to give modesty a second thought. The last traces of her energy expended, she crawled into bed and shivered as the cool sheets met her heated skin.

Once Logan tucked the covers under her chin, he brought her a glass of water, a couple of aspirin and
a cowbell. “Don't worry about a thing,” he said, supporting her while she took the tablets. He lowered her to the pillows, then pointed to the cowbell. “If you need me, ring that.”

“Okay,” she said, hardly recognizing her own voice. She sounded like a very tired old lady.

Logan looked extremely worried as he stared down at her. “Are you sure you'll be all right?”

She nodded, but couldn't seem to make her voice work. She was simply too tired.

He brushed her hair back from her heated face and laid a cool damp washcloth on her forehead. “I'll see the babies are well cared for. You just rest and get better. I'll be up to check on you a little later.”

Cassie nodded again. Her eyes felt as if they had lead weights on them. She should warn him about Chelsea's inclination to spit baby food everywhere and Kelsie's habit of splashing bathwater. She should also tell him how to fasten the tapes on the girls' diapers. But as he headed back down the hall, her eyes closed and she felt herself drifting off into an exhausted sleep.

 

Logan cursed a blue streak as he hung up the phone. The doctor who visited the clinic down in Bear Creek was only in on Thursdays, and this was Friday. If only Cassie had come down with the flu a day earlier, Logan could have gotten her in to see the doctor. The physician's assistant had given him instructions on the care of an influenza patient and he hoped she knew what she was talking about. She'd also scared the hell out of him when she'd
given him a list of symptoms for pneumonia and cautioned him to watch for signs of complications.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Cassie was going to be okay. He refused to believe otherwise. As long as he had breath left in his body, he wouldn't allow it to be a repeat of what had happened to his mother.

He made another trip upstairs to check on Cassie and assure himself she was resting comfortably. Her skin was a little cooler to the touch and he took that as a good sign.

Heading back to the kitchen, Logan went straight to the phone and dialed the bunkhouse. He wasn't fool enough to think he could handle a sick woman and two babies by himself. He needed help.

“Could you come up to the house?” Logan asked when Gabe Morris answered on the third ring. He would have demanded to know why it had taken Gabe so long to answer, but Logan couldn't afford to annoy the man at this stage of the game. Of all his men, Gabe was the only one who might have experience with children.

“What kinda mood are you in?” Gabe asked, sounding as if he still hadn't forgiven Logan for being so irritable lately.

Logan sighed heavily. “Look, I told you yesterday I was sorry. Now, get up here.”

“Okay, boss.” The man paused. “But you'd better be in a good mood or I'll quit.”

“You won't have to. I'll fire you if you don't get the lead out of your ass and get up here,” Logan said, hanging up the phone.

When Gabe showed up five minutes later, Logan
made sure he greeted the man with a smile. “I need your help, Gabe. Mrs. Wellington is sick and I need you to take care of her little girls while I—”

“No way, boss,” Gabe said emphatically. The man suddenly looked like a trapped animal. Holding his hands up, he started backpedaling. “I don't know nothin' 'bout babies, 'cept for the bovine kind. And that's just the way I intend to keep it.”

“But you said your sister has kids,” Logan said reasonably.

“Well, my brother-in-law owns a movie theater up in Casper, too. But that don't make me a movie star,” Gabe shot back. He quickly backed his way to the door. “You're on your own with this one, boss.”

“I'll give you an extra week's pay,” Logan offered, feeling desperate as he watched the man step out onto the porch. When Gabe shook his head, Logan tried again. “Make that two weeks' pay.”

“Nope.” Gabe turned and fled down the steps. “There ain't enough money in the state of Wyoming to get me to take care of them babies.”

“You're fired,” Logan shouted to the cowboy's retreating back.

Gabe kept going. “You can't fire me. I quit.”

“You quit yesterday and the day before.”

“Yeah, and you fired me last week and the week before that,” Gabe said, breaking into a jog. “See you in the mornin', boss.”

Logan watched his only hope for help disappear around the corner of the barn at a dead run. One of these days he was going to fire Gabe for real, he thought sourly.

The sound of an impatient infant, followed closely by a second baby's angry cry, sent a shiver slithering up Logan's spine as reality hit with the force of a wrecking ball. He was solely responsible for the care of two baby girls and one extremely ill woman.

Thoughts of his own mother and the illness that had claimed her life once again invaded his mind. What if Cassie had something worse than the flu? Would he be able to get her to a doctor in time?

Sweat beaded his forehead and he took a deep breath. It was early September, not February, and the chances of them being trapped in a blizzard were pretty damned slim this time of year.

No. Nothing was going to happen to Cassie. He wouldn't allow it. If he had to, he'd walk through hell and back, but Cassie was going to be all right.

He ground his back teeth. All of this was Hank's fault. If he hadn't taken Cassie's friend and eloped, Ginny would be here to take charge. Any fool knew that women were better at these things than men.

The crying increased in volume and he heard the distant sound of a cowbell clanging. Straightening his shoulders, Logan took a deep breath and headed down the hall to deal with the three females demanding his attention.

Twenty minutes later he was feeling pretty good about the way he was coping. He'd assured Cassie he had everything under control and had managed to strap the twins in their high chairs without incident.

You can do this, Murdock.

Most of it was common sense stuff. As long as he kept that in mind, everything should be okay.

Filling one of the tiny spoons with food, he held
it to one of the little girls' mouths, while he juggled a bottle for the other one. He smiled. This wasn't as difficult as he'd thought it would be.

A split second later he frowned as he looked down at the orange spot on his shirt, then at the baby who'd put it there. “I take it you don't like carrots?”

The chubby little girl treated him to a toothless grin and slapped her hands down in the divided dish he'd placed in the middle of her tray. Mushy baby food flew in all directions.

“Well, hel…heck,” he muttered, adjusting his language for young ears. Now he knew why he'd never seen Cassie place the baby dishes within the twins' reach.

By the time Logan had the two babies fed, the three of them were wearing more food than he'd gotten them to eat and he had a whole new respect for Cassie. She made feeding the twins look easy. It wasn't. Not by a long shot.

Wiping the nasty mush from his shirt and face, he turned to do the same with the babies. Only, that proved more difficult than he'd anticipated. It was damned hard to clean a moving target, he decided as the twins turned their heads, rocked back and forth and grabbed at the washcloth. Giving up, he managed to get them both out of the high chairs, then tucked one under each arm and headed for the bathroom upstairs. There was no way he'd attempt to clean the kitchen until after he got the twins in bed for the night.

Once he'd filled the tub with a couple of inches of warm water, he stripped both babies and proceeded to try to bathe them. Since they didn't smell
like regular bath soap, he opted to just rinse them off with the clear water. Cassie probably used something special just for babies, but he didn't know what it was and he wasn't about to disturb her to find out.

Pleased that things seemed to be going along pretty well with the bath, Logan wasn't prepared when one of them started thrashing her legs and slapping the water with her little hands. The other one soon joined in and Logan groaned. He was as wet as they were and the bathroom floor looked like a small lake.

Damn! Now he'd have to mop up the bathroom as well as clean the kitchen.

Wrapping the two babies in a huge bath towel, he took them into the room where Cassie had set up their cribs and placed a twin in each. Now what? He'd seen her put diapers on the girls, but never intending to perform the task himself, he hadn't paid any attention as to how she'd done it or what she'd used to make them stay on.

A sudden thought had him running downstairs with a smile on his face. Feeling quite proud of himself, he returned to the twins' room with a large roll of tape.

“When in doubt, duct it,” he said triumphantly, grabbing a couple of diapers from the fancy little holder hanging in one corner of the room. “Now, where's that white stuff your mom sprinkles on before she slaps these things in place?”

While he searched for the powder, the tiny girls crawled to the rails of their cribs, pulled themselves to a standing position and made baby noises in answer to his question.

Locating the plastic container, he twisted the cap and stopped short at the smell. “Well, I'll be dam…danged,” he said incredulously.

The scent he found irresistible, the one that made him want to take Cassie in his arms and cradle her to him, wasn't cologne at all. It was baby powder. But on Cassie the stuff smelled as exotic as expensive perfume.

Logan didn't have time to dwell on his discovery. He needed to get the babies' bottoms covered before they did something else he'd have to clean up.

With a lot of effort, and taking at least twice the amount of time it took Cassie, Logan had the diapers in place, the sides secured with strips of duct tape and tiny pink T-shirts pulled on both girls. He watched as they began to blink and yawn. A few minutes later they were both sleeping peacefully.

And he felt as if he'd just competed in a triathlon.

But his job wasn't finished. He still had to deal with the cleanup.

After quickly mopping up the water on the bathroom floor and draining the tub, Logan checked on Cassie, then headed back downstairs to face the mess in the kitchen. His respect for Cassie and the chores of motherhood she performed with such ease had jumped several notches in the past couple of hours and was still rising.