Cowboys Like Us (15 page)

He released his seat belt and opened the door. “I’ll be right back. Keep your motor running.”

“Mine or the truck’s?”

He grinned. “Both.”

T
HE NEXT FEW DAYS FELL
into a routine that Logan knew couldn’t last. But he put off the inevitable by procrastinating making plane reservations. Eventually he’d do that, but he was having too damned much fun to rush into it.

Hot nights in Caro’s bed were followed by visits to Pine Grove, where Logan had become the highlight of the day for most of the residents. Some wanted to hear baseball stories, but some were interested in his rehab from the knee injury. Without really meaning to, he’d inspired quite a few to resume their exercise programs.

At a staffer’s request, he’d drawn up progress charts, which attracted the interest of even more residents. The facility’s director ordered a box of Cubs caps, and those who met their goals got one signed by Logan. Between the exercise programs and Caro’s quilting project, Pine Grove buzzed with activity every morning.

During Caro’s shifts at the Spirits and Spurs, Logan spent time at the ranch. He worked on the cradle, but he took it slow, because once it was finished, he really should leave for Chicago. So he took breaks from that project to saddle a horse and practice his riding skills.

He also asked one of the hands to show him some roping basics. At this point all he could lasso was a post located
behind the barn specifically for roping practice. Before he left he planned to try his luck with a horse or a cow.

He’d just successfully roped the post for the third time one afternoon when Jack came around the corner of the barn and headed toward him. Logan flipped the loop off the post and coiled the rope. “Hey, Jack.”

Jack nodded toward the rope. “Not bad for a greenhorn.”

“Thanks. The post tried like hell to get away, but I was faster.”

He grinned. “Anybody who can rope a runaway post can hang his hat at the Last Chance anytime. Listen, I wanted to ask you something.”

“If it’s about the cradle, I’m close to finishing.”

“It’s not about that, but the cradle looks good. Josie’s looking forward to having it for the baby.”

“So what’s up?”

Jack took off his hat and combed his fingers through his hair. “We’ve decided to give Beckett’s idea a try, which means we’ll need the bunks.” He gazed at Logan. “Were you serious about building them?”

“Yep. Totally serious.” Logan couldn’t help smiling. The project sounded like fun and would give him an excuse to come back here. More importantly, though, the Pine Grove quilt project now had a guaranteed purpose. Caro would be so excited.

“Good to hear. We need to figure out a time frame. It makes sense to get all the supplies before the first snow, but I suppose you’d have some leeway as to when you did the work because it’ll be all inside.”

“Let me take a look at my schedule,” Logan said automatically, even though he had no schedule.

“Yeah, I know you must have obligations in Chicago. Josie asked me the other day if you had mentioned when you were heading back there.”

“Soon.” Logan was willing to bet Josie was worried about Caro’s reaction to his departure, whenever that might be. “I wanted to make sure I finished the cradle first.”

“Right.” Jack didn’t say what they both knew—that Logan could have finished the cradle days ago.

“Has Caro said anything to you about the quilts?”

“Oh, yeah, she told Josie all about that. Josie drove into town a little while ago to give Caro the good news that the Beckett project is a go. I was designated to get a final word on whether you planned to build the bunks.”

“I do.” Disappointment took a little of the shine off his good mood. He’d looked forward to telling Caro himself.

“Beckett’s willing to pay you, by the way.”

Logan frowned. “I don’t want money for it.”

“I didn’t think you would, either. A tax write-off is probably better for someone in your bracket. Beckett’s filing the paperwork to make this a nonprofit program, so our tax guy is working out whether we should charge him for the use of the ranch or claim it as a write-off.”

“I guess it’s good to consider all the angles.” Logan’s accountant would probably appreciate it if he’d be more conscious of such things. But he’d never been in the habit of thinking that way. He’d offered to build the bunks because he liked the work and wanted to help, not because he could write it off his taxes.

“Yeah, but bottom line, this will be a good thing for everyone, especially the kids.”

“Yeah.” Logan refused to feel guilty that he hadn’t agreed to help next summer. The idea of helping those kids still made him nervous. Besides, he wanted to keep his options open. A network deal might come through, or maybe some offer he hadn’t even considered.

Jack settled his hat back on his head. “Whenever you’re
ready, we can take some measurements, decide how much lumber to buy.”

“Tomorrow afternoon?” This afternoon was fading fast and Logan planned to drive into town soon. Caro would still be working, but sometimes he got behind the bar and helped out. He felt like doing that tonight.

“Sure, tomorrow works. See you then.” Jack started to leave, but turned back with a sigh. “Josie made me promise to ask something else.”

Logan tensed. “What’s that?”

“She heard that you refused Beckett’s offer to work with the kids next summer, and I totally understand that. But Josie wants to know if you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“I told her you wouldn’t have. Just because you’re helping Caro with the folks at Pine Grove doesn’t mean—”

“You know about that?”

“Buddy, whether you want to be or not, you’re a celebrity around here. Plus, as you may have noticed, we’re a small town. Word gets out—always.”

Logan slowly nodded. “I’m beginning to see that. But you’ll have to tell Josie I’m still not interested in Beckett’s project, other than building the bunks.”

“I’ll tell her. See you tomorrow.”

“Right.” Logan stared after Jack as he walked away. Josie might not understand it, but Pine Grove and Beckett’s project were entirely different animals.

The Pine Grove situation had dropped into Logan’s lap, and nobody had expected anything from him. Whatever good came out of his visits was a bonus. Beckett’s project would be loaded with expectations, ones that Logan couldn’t or wouldn’t meet because he wasn’t willing to bare his battered soul to a bunch of teenagers.

But now that Jack had brought up Pine Grove, Logan
worried that Caro might be thinking the same thing as Josie. She could be. The two women were friends and they talked. He didn’t doubt they talked about him. He’d told Caro that he got a kick out of working with the folks at Pine Grove.

Damn. He should probably discuss that with her and make sure she wasn’t building castles in the air. His chest tightened as he felt a trap closing around him. Caro could be expecting too much of him. He wasn’t the guy for Beckett’s project, no matter what she might think.

Time to get out of Dodge. He’d make a plane reservation before he went into town to see her. These past few days had been great, but if they were giving Caro false hope that he’d be a camp counselor to those teenagers, he needed to stop immediately.

C
ARO FELT THE USUAL RUSH
of pleasure when Logan walked into the Spirits and Spurs around dinnertime. She wondered if he realized how much he looked like a real cowboy these days. He seemed completely at home in his hat, boots, jeans and Western shirt. Even his walk seemed to have changed.

Or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part. When Josie had come in earlier to deliver her great news about Beckett’s project, she’d commented on how settled Logan seemed recently. He was taking his time with the cradle, which Josie thought was a sign he was in no hurry to leave.

Both Caro and Josie were impressed with Logan’s work out at Pine Grove. Josie had mentioned it to Beckett and told him not to give up on the possibility of having Logan on board. Caro had been afraid to put that thought into words, but after Josie’s comments today, she had allowed a tiny ray of hope to shine.

Her life had definitely taken a positive turn. Grandma Bonnie was a different person now that she had quilts to make and workers to supervise. Her former optimism had
resurfaced. That left Caro free to pursue her own future, which might, just might, include the tall man walking toward the bar.

“Hey there, little lady.” He slid onto a stool and smiled at her.

“Hey, there, cowboy.” She smiled back, happier than she’d been in a long, long time. “Did you hear that the Chances are going ahead with Beckett’s project?”

“Jack told me. I’ll bet you’re doing cartwheels.”

“I am. I called Grandma Bonnie and she’s planning to step up the effort. She wants a backlog of quilts so that there’s no question that each kid can take one home. She hasn’t been this excited about anything in months.”

“That’s terrific.”

“Did Jack talk to you about the bunks?”

“He did. We’ll work out the details tomorrow.”

“Good. I—whoops, excuse me. Customers. Be right back.”

“Feed me a hamburger and I’ll come back there and help you finish out your shift,” he called after her.

“You’ve got a deal.” She put in an order for a hamburger the way Logan liked it, with mushrooms and Monterrey Jack cheese. After delivering drinks to the two men at the other end of the bar, she filled a mug with root beer for Logan and set it in front of him. “Speaking of your carpentry skills, how’s the cradle coming along?”

“Almost done.”

It wasn’t quite the answer she’d expected after Josie’s claim that he was dragging his feet so he could hang around. But she told herself he might be finishing the cradle so he could start on the bunk beds. “I’d love to see it. Maybe we could skip Pine Grove in the morning and take a trail ride instead. My grandmother adores you, so she should be okay with that.”

“Sounds good.”

“Then let’s plan on it.” She hurried off to fill another drink
order, but her thoughts remained fixed on Logan. Maybe it was her imagination that he didn’t seem as enthusiastic about the trail ride as she would have thought he’d be.

Then again, he might really like going to Pine Grove, or he could feel that the residents would be disappointed if he didn’t show up. They would be, but he couldn’t be expected to keep up his daily visits. She decided to discuss it later, when they were alone.

That time alone, whether they were in her apartment or driving to Jackson, had become precious. The sex every night was amazing, but it turned out she liked his company even when they both had all their clothes on. She didn’t dare put a label on what she felt for him, but it no longer fell into the category of friendship.

Business was brisk now that the regular customers had recovered from the wedding reception and had returned to their usual habit of stopping by for a beer or two. Once Logan finished his hamburger and joined her behind the bar, the usual requests came in for some martini shaker juggling or the flaming drinks he was now famous for.

Logan certainly spiced up her work life, too. Although she’d asked him to teach her to bartend the way he did, tossing things around and lighting various types of cocktails on fire, she didn’t really want to learn. She’d rather have him do guest appearances.

But as much fun as she had working with him, she was glad when closing time arrived. Logan handled the cleanup duties while she closed the register. After several nights of doing it, they’d perfected the system so they were done quickly and could head up to her apartment.

She felt like celebrating tonight. Thanks to Peter Beckett, her grandmother had a new lease on life and Logan would be around at least until he’d finished those bunk beds for the
kids. The longer he stayed, the more he seemed to like it here. That had to be a good thing.

Once they were in her apartment, he drew her into his arms, as he always did. But instead of kissing her hello, he gazed into her eyes. “We need to talk.”

She laughed to hide her sudden case of jitters. “That sounds ominous.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to be dramatic, but something Jack said today has been on my mind, and I decided you and I need to be sure we’re on the same page.”

“Okay.” That didn’t improve her jitters. “How about something to drink while we talk?” She slipped out of his arms, walked over to the kitchen area and pulled some white wine out of the refrigerator. “I’d like to toast the Chances for agreeing to Peter Beckett’s proposition.”

“We can do that.”

She wasn’t imagining it. He’d lost that carefree attitude he’d had only hours ago when they’d been together. But she’d offered wine and she’d serve wine.

Taking two goblets from the cupboard, she opened the bottle and poured them each about half full. She had a feeling this wouldn’t be as much of a celebration as she’d hoped. “Here you go.” She walked over and held out his glass. “To Peter Beckett’s project.”

He touched his glass to hers. “To Peter Beckett’s project. And that’s what I want to discuss.”

But not in a good way, she guessed. “What about it?”

“From what Jack said, I think Josie still hopes I’ll be a part of it, mostly because of my visits to Pine Grove.”

Caro shrugged in an effort to be nonchalant, but her heart beat faster. “She might.”

“Caro, one doesn’t have anything to do with the other. I might be helping the residents to exercise more, but I’m not expected to turn their lives around. What I’ve done there is a
little blip on the facility’s radar screen. Beckett wants a tsunami wave of inspiration out of me.”

“Hmm.” Neither of them had touched their wine, and she decided to drink some of hers. Maybe then she wouldn’t lose her temper. The wine slid down her throat, but instead of calming her, it seemed to add fuel to her fire.

He gazed at her. “I take it you don’t agree?”

“No, I don’t.” She took a deep breath. “But we’ve been over this. You see the job Beckett offered one way, and I see it another.”

“Yeah, I know. You imagine that the kids and I would somehow bond and help each other heal, but as the adult in the equation, I don’t think that’s a fair—”

“Have you any idea how you’ve blossomed ever since you’ve been trekking out to Pine Grove with me? You’re not dwelling on your own problems, because you’re focused on theirs. Being around those old folks takes you right out of yourself.”