Choices (2 page)

“You might want to quit fogging up the window, Chief, here she comes” Kassey grumbled, smacking Logan on the shoulder.

Logan took a step away from the window and walked back to his computer. He turned his attention to his computer screen, but kept one eye on the door. He watched Kassey sit back down in her receptionist chair, where she did double duty as his secretary and lodging manager.

The bell above the door jingled, and then she walked in, huffing a little with her luggage strapped all around her, two bags in her hand, and a garment bag and laptop case strapped around her neck. He thought it made her more human, albeit a human Vision. He tried to ignore her, hoping that he wouldn’t be needed to help out. Logan prided himself on his self-control and ability to keep cool when all else around him is in chaos, but this one very petite woma
n had stripped him of that, and he struggled to get his thoughts under control.

Abby shrugged her bags off her body and stopped in front of what she assumed was a check-in desk. A very pretty blonde sat in the chair behind the desk, almost pointedly ignoring Abby. That can’t be right, she thought, I just got here, why would she want to ignore me? She cleared her throat and said “Excuse me?”

The blonde swung her head around as if just noticing Abby, and gave her a smile.

             
“Can I help you?” the blonde asked.

“Yes, I’m Abby Stanford, I have a reservation for your cabin.”

“Oh yes, Mrs. Stanford, we’ve been expecting you and your husband!” Kassey exclaimed, a little too loudly. Abby smiled a little, puzzled at her loud tone.

“No, no husband, and no longer a Mrs. Not married at all, actually.” she offered, a little bitterness creeping into her voice. This seemed to cause the woman to look a little disgruntled. What in the world had she walked into?

“Let’s get you checked in, shall we?” Kassey turned back to her computer, and Abby saw her shoot a look at a man sitting at another computer. His back was turned to her, but he had a presence about him that spoke to Abby. She wished he would turn around so she could see his face, but he seemed to be concentrating on something on his computer. He hadn’t turned around when she had walked in, but he didn’t seem busy. His long fingers rested on the key board, but he wasn’t typing. He was either very tall, or had a long torso, his back was straight under his blue denim shirt and his legs were encased in a pair of Wrangler jeans. Long legs, she noticed, along with a long torso. Very tall. His hair was black, and curled a little at his collar. Abby turned her attention back to the blonde.

“My name is Kassey Frazier, and I’m sorta the
maître’d here at LM Ranch. I run the front office and I’m who you call when you need something. We don’t offer maid service or room service and we don’t have a spa. You have to go into Bozeman for that, an hour west of here.” Kassey took a breath and continued “If you need extra towels, I can get that for you, but there is a washer and dryer in your unit. The nearest grocery store is in Livingston, and that’s half an hour from here, so you should really get everything you’re gonna need in one shot. You wouldn’t want to get caught out—“

Abby held up a hand and Kassey stopped speaking and raised an eyebrow. Abby wondered what she had done to deserve the hostility she felt radiating from the woman, but she wouldn’t stand for it.

“I don’t know if this is how you treat your guests when they check in, but I read your web-site. I know there aren’t any spa facilities, or maid service or anything else that a five-star lodging would provide. I’m guessing that’s what you’re getting at, right? If I wanted five-star, I would’ve stayed in five-star. Is that okay with you?” Abby replied, propping the hand she help up on her hip.

A snort came from the man in the corner, and Kassey looked a little contrite. She seemed to gather herself and began again.

“I’m sorry, there was no excuse for my behavior. We don’t get a lot of city folk out here. Everyone that comes in like you, doesn’t realize that we’re just a place to unwind naturally. No fancy amenities.” Kassey apologized, but Abby still felt a challenge there, but she decided to let it go. She really just wanted to wipe the road grime away and then fall asleep for a long time, preferably for the rest of her life.

“I promise that I won’t be a snotty bother. If I break a nail, I’ll make sure to call 911 from my cell phone, instead of bothering you.” Abby couldn’t help getting in a parting shot. Kassey opened her mouth to come back, but there was a discreet cough from the corner so Kassey closed her mouth again. She took the cabin key from a peg on the wall next to her desk, and took out the necessary forms for Abby to sign from her desk. She put them on the desk and handed Abby a pen to sign.

“Do you need help out with your luggage?” Kassey asked, taking the signed forms back and filing them.

“No, I can handle it fine. How do I get to the cabin?” She bent down to her luggage, gathering it up.

“Well, with the fresh snow on the ground the track is covered up, so I’ll have to call in one of the guys to come around to show you out there.” Kassey replied, reaching over to grab her two-way radio.

“I’ll take her”

Abby stopped at the sound of his voice and looked up at the man in the corner. He finally spoke, and he had a nice voice, a little rough, with the cadence of the west. She watched as he stood up and grabbed his grabbed his straw Stetson from the coat stand next to his desk. Settling the hat on his head, he turned around, and Abby felt as though she was falling through the floor. He was gorgeous, no other way to put it.

Tall, at least a foot taller than her own 5’3, the legs she had admired as he had sat at his desk seemed to go on forever. His denim shirt encased a torso that was not formed by thirty minutes a day at the gym, but from honest hard work. Abby realized she was staring, and quickly looked away, but not before she saw his face. Sculpted, it seemed, from the wind and sun, he had a strong jaw line and high cheekbones, framing a rugged mouth and a straight nose. His eyes had looked gr
ay, like a high mountain lake but she couldn’t be sure. She would have to look again to be sure.

He walked over to her and stuck out his hand. Abby looked at it, wondering what she should do with it. Her brain seemed to have stopped working. Get a grip Abby! She shook herself mentally, and
placed her hand in his. He shook it and let it go, but all she felt was his calloused palm and how it sent shivers up her arm.

“I’m Logan MacKinnon. Nice to meet
you, Ms. Stanford.” Logan said, tucking his hand into his front pocket. Touching her had sent a jolt straight up his arm and into his stomach. He cursed at himself. She was a guest, and here he was reacting like a school boy on his first date.

“Please, call me Abby. Logan MacKinnon? I guess this is your ranch?”

“Yeah, my little home.” He shrugged, still feeling uncomfortable. He hadn’t liked Kassey’s attitude toward her, but she did look like she belonged in some big city with fancy boutiques, not alone on his ranch.

He wondered what kind of
idjit would let this one go. He glanced down at her and saw a thin band of creamy skin where her shirt had pulled up and his stomach clenched again.

“Well, it’s beautiful. Thank you for having me. I’m just going to get this luggage put in the truck.” Abby had to get
out. She had to get away from him, into the cold outside, then maybe her rationale would come back. Logan reached down to grab one of her suitcases that had fallen to the ground.

“No!” Abby yelled. Logan stopped in mid-bend, turning his head to look at her, a coal black eyebrow raised in question.

She blushed. She hadn’t blushed since the first night she and Steve had made love with the lights on.

“I mean, I can get them. Don’t worry about it. I’ll just meet you out front.” With that, she gathered the suitcases on the ground and practically ran out the door he held open for her.

“That was smooth, Romeo.” Kassey quipped from behind him.

“I wasn’t trying to be smooth. Oh and since when are we rude to paying customers? What got into you?” Logan turned to look at her, his hands on his hips. Kassey dropped her eyes to the desk, fooled around with some papers there, trying to look contrite but not really making it.

“I don’t like her type.”

“And what is her type? She seems pretty nice to me. I really liked her come back with the nail thing. She put you in your place.” He snickered.

“Oh shut up. You just like her, period.”

Logan thought about that for a second. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, that was true. She was a guest, though, and just because she was alone here, which was a little unusual, she was off-limits.

“Well, that’s neither here nor there. Try to be gracious from now on, okay?”

Kassey nodded, and went back to her work. Logan grabbed his work jacket from the coat stand at his desk and went out the door. She was already in her SUV, engine idling, waiting on him. He wondered again what would bring someone out here alone, and wondered briefly how long it had been since her divorce was final. She was hurting from it still; her tired, shadowed eyes told him that. Not that it mattered, he told himself, she was one of his guests and he didn’t involve himself with his guests beyond the friendly hello’s and how-do-you-do’s. He climbed into his truck and started it, then swung it around in a tight U-turn and pointed it down the track that led to the cabin.

Abby followed Logan in his truck, going slow on the dirt road that was now covered with a good 6 inches of snow. She thought about her reaction to him, and decided that it was road weariness, coupled with the state of her life. She had been around plenty of good-looking men, hell, it was almost a pre-requisite to being a surgeon, and never felt that way about any of them. Sure she had flirted with most of them, it was like an unspoken rule among surgeons wives to flirt at gatherings, but she had never been interested. She might as well have been back in high school, drooling over the star quarterback.

She considered herself sophisticated, almost jaded, when it came to men. Her reaction to him was out of character. Sure, he was gorgeous. Tall, dark, and handsome; every woman’s dream guy.
Why had she almost thrown herself into his arms? Granted, she hadn’t had sex for almost 6 months before the marriage ended, and it had been almost a year since then. Maybe she was just horny. Jeez, here we go again with the high school attitude.

She needed to stop thinking about him and pay attention to the road. It was snowing and she was on an unfamiliar road. The Range Rover had all-wheel drive, but she would still run right into the back of him if she didn’t get her head out of the clouds. She looked straight out the windshield, watching the snow fall gently, coating the evergreens, covering the rocks that ran along the edges of the stream next to the road. It was truly beautiful up here, so different from the refined beauty of New England. Out here, a person could get in touch with themselves, without all the distractions back East. That was why she came out here, not to moon over the hot cowboy that owned her temporary home.

Up ahead, Logan’s truck had come to a stop in front of the log cabin, a lovely two-story farmhouse with a full wraparound porch, and two dormers’ above. The lights had already been turned on, and the chimney was already puffing out smoke. She stopped her truck and just stared at it. She seemed to be doing a lot of staring since she had gotten back into Montana. It was perfect. As was the man that had gotten out of his truck and stood in from of the cabin, waiting on her.

She put her truck in park, and got out, going around to the back to raise the hatch to get her luggage out. Logan came around to where she was standing.

“This time, I insist.” he said, reaching around her to grab her two suitcases. His arm brushed against her, and Abby shivered again. Even through clothes, he could send shivers up and down her spine!. This could be a problem if she didn’t get her head on straight. Abby grabbed her other two bags, and followed him through the snow and up the front steps to the front door. They stood there for a second, and Abby was aware of his height, and how close he was to her.

“You have the key, Mrs. Stanford.”

“Oh, God, your right. And it’s Abby; please don’t call me Mrs. Stanford.” She said a little desperately, digging through her purse to where she had thrown the key. God, what was wrong with her? She hated the way he said “Mrs. Stanford”; it was like she didn’t want to be reminded that she had once been married all of a sudden. She turned to open the door, and Logan frowned at the back of her head. How bad had her ex-husband hurt her that she didn’t want to be referred to as a “Mrs.”?