Logan's Woman (9 page)

It was perfect for him. For Claire. Even though
his body was still raging from their encounter.

Getting up on his mount again, he rode back to
the stables, finding Claire still absent. He frowned.

“Has Claire come out?” he asked Frank, who was
leading the mare out of the stables and tying her lead to a
post.

“Not that I seen, no. But – Oh I think that’s
her right there,” Frank said, the gruff in his voice natural from
old age.

Logan turned around and saw her. God, would she
never stop taking his breath away? The bright rays from the sun
caught in her hair, making it frame an almost golden halo around
her face.

Her face lit up the second she saw the horses.
Squealing, almost running to him, she looked between the two men
and the two horses. “Which one do I get to ride,” she demanded,
wide eyed.

“None,” he teased. “You get to hang on by the
tail and run.”

Claire waved a hand. “I’ll probably end up
doing that anyways. Seriously, which one!”

Logan smiled. Her smile was bright and wide and
there weren’t any shadows in her eyes. He wanted to make her look
like that all of the time, he thought, patting the butt of the
mare. “This one is yours. Her name is Berry. Have you ever ridden
before?” he asked, needing to know. He didn’t want her to ride
alone if she was a first time rider...she would have to ride with
him, he thought, not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad
thing.

“Oh yes, I have,” she said, excitedly looking
at Berry. The horse neighed lightly, shuffling it’s feet. Her head
butted against Claire’s shoulder, and she laughed,
flattered.

She turned her whole attention to the horse,
cupping the strong jaw and petting, cooing. “You’re such a pretty
girl...yes, you are....” She happily pushed aside the fringe that
hung over the horses face and looked over her shoulder at Logan,
grinning.

“Can we go now?”

He nodded dumbly, entranced by the site she
made.

As she climbed onto the horse like an expert,
he saw that Frank had noticed as well.

He swallowed roughly and mounted his horse.
Frank made him lean down and he said quietly, “She’s a keeper. Not
at all like Christina.”

Logan, with a heavy feeling in his chest,
muttered, “Even though she isn’t, doesn’t mean we can keep her.
She’s only going to be here for a month or so.”

Frank patted his calf, nodding. “That’s enough
time to convince her to stay.”

He let out a low breath, looking at Claire as
she managed the horse like she had been born on it. She was several
feet away from him, out of hearing distance. “Even if I wanted her
to stay, she wouldn’t. Couldn’t.”

“We’ll see.” Frank smiled knowingly.

Logan left him standing there and went to
Claire. “Ready?”

“More than ever!” she gushed, eyes smiling as
much as her lips were. He forced himself to look away and rode
ahead of her, leading the way.

Before he knew it, though, Claire was galloping
in front of him, her laugh ringing in the wind, calling to him. Her
hair flew out behind her, caressing the wind. Her body was lithe
and she almost looked like she was one with Berry.

Right then, Logan knew without a doubt, that he
had to know everything about her. He wanted to know what it took to
make her smile, make her laugh, make her cry, make
her...

Love.

He wanted to know what it took to make her
love.

He might not ever be able to offer
her anything but a bed and a ranch, but he had to know.
Needed
to know. Logan
didn’t care that he’d only known her for a week. He didn’t care
that being with her seemed impossible yet so easy. He didn’t care
that even though everything in him shouted against it because of
what she was, he had to have her in his bed, wrapped around him,
naked, gasping his name and begging for more.

Groaning roughly, Logan followed after her.
Only when Berry began to look tired did he stop Claire and make her
follow him to their picnic spot.

“That was amazing!” she exclaimed, hopping off
of Berry. He saw her wobble and was immediately there to hold her
up. She smiled sheepishly, pulling away from his grasp. “I’m fine,
don’t worry. Just a little strung.”

What I would do to relax
you...
His body hardened and he realized
that it was going to be a
very
long day.

Chapter 6

Claire watched as Logan walked away from her
stiffly, and went about putting down the blanket that he had pulled
out from behind the tree that was in the center of the small
clearing. She took care of the horses for him, pulling them to the
other side of the tree and tieing their lead to a low-hanging
branch. Luckily, there was a small thing of water just a couple of
feet away.

She took Berry’s lead off and untied it so that
it was just one string of rope and, tied to the horse, long enough
for them to still be tethered and still able to reach the thing of
water. She did the same to Logan’s horse and then patted them down.
She had her own stables on her father’s estate and she knew all
about horses and how to take care of them -- she didn’t think Logan
knew she did though.

Wiping her hands off and giving them each a
scratch on their forehead, she turned around --

And came up against a wall.

A
chest
wall. A wall of a chest.A
hot
wall of a chest. Eyes
going wide, she looked up slowly and met the blazing eyes of
Logan.

“Ah...” she backed away, or tried to. Berry was
in her way and the horse didn’t seem like moving. At
all.

“What were you doing?” he asked, the light that
had started to enter his eyes gone now.

“I…was tending to the horses…”

He gave her a hard look and then strode past
her, first going to his black mount and then to Berry. He took the
time to pat them down and check their leads, making sure they were
all tied correctly.

By the time he turned to look at
her, she was
fuming
.

“Are you content with my ‘work’?” she spat,
hands clenching at her side. He acted as if she had had no idea
what she was doing and he found her stupid for even
trying.

His brows shot up. “What are you talking
about?”

“Wow. Nothing.” She turned on her heel and
walked to the blanket, sitting down and leaning across the tree
with her legs crossed at the ankles and her arms over her chest.
When he came back and lowered himself in front of her, she refused
to look at him. Yes, she wanted him to know she was mad. No, she
didn’t want to look at him and then stop being mad. And she knew it
would happen – it happened with everyone. She had never been able
to stay angry at someone, as much as she tried. Her father had
always believed in forgiveness and being better than whoever had
pissed you off. Her aunt, on the other hand, had tried to make her
hold onto that anger so she wouldn’t be so foolish to trust that
person again.

Of course, her father’s method had
stuck with her. With pressed lips, she waited as
he
waited for her to look
at him.

“Claire,” he said. She couldn’t tell what he
was feeling through his voice, but she did know she liked the sound
of her name on his lips.

That enraged her.

“What.”

Stupid men. Even the ones her father knew
thought that women could do nothing for themselves. If women tried
to do something besides hosting parties, everything they did needed
to be double checked. Feeling her cheeks flush with anger, she met
his eyes despite herself.

A mistake.

His eyes were grey and smoking,
searing her. The anger slowly dissipated and she thought,
Wow I hate myself sometimes...

“Claire,” he said again, voice
softer.

“What.” The pout. That damn pout in her
voice.

“I just have to make sure the horses were okay.
Not because I don’t trust your judgment, but I have to make sure
for myself. Berry was my mother’s last bred foul before she died.
And Bobo...I’ve had him for years. It wasn’t because I don’t trust
you, I just worry about the horses.”

Yup. The anger was gone.

“Your mother, she died?” she asked softly, arms
loosening over her chest. She couldn’t stay mad at the sadness that
entered his eyes.

“Of cancer, yes. I was seventeen and my dad
wasn’t around.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, looking down.
“My mother got into a car accident when I was five. My aunt and my
father raised me.”

She looked up and met his eyes briefly, found
him looking at her with a deep, unrecognizable look. She took a
breath. “I’m hungry, what about you?” It was easier to change the
conversation than suffer the silence, she thought.

He stared at her for a moment, a
look entering his eyes that she didn’t recognize, and then nodded.
“I’m starving.” He began pulling out the sandwiches, putting them
on the spread out blanket. Then there were two tubs of salads,
three different kinds of bags of chips, a jar of something red, and
biscuits placed inside a plastic container. And then, right when
she thought he would be done, he pulled out two
giant
slices of cake and set them to
the side.

He looked at her as if in approval, and she
grinned. “What kind is it?”

“Carrot cake, the only kind that Glenda makes
for me.” He chuckled.

A weird sensation ran through her. “Glenda?”
she asked, trying to keep her appetite. The tenderness in his voice
was something she’d never heard from him before. Was it his
girlfriend? Oh god, they’d kissed -- her face paled
dramatically.

“My housekeeper -- what’s wrong,” he demanded.
She cleared her throat, shaking her head. So she hadn’t turned into
a homewrecker, thank God.

“Nothing, heat got to me for a second,” she
fibbed. “So, which piece is mine?”

“Hey now, dessert is for
after
the
meal.”

“But I’m not hungry for sandwiches... I want
cake.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Food first, then cake,”
he chuckled, handing her the sandwich. She lifted the upper piece
of bread and looked at him skeptically.

“Did you spit on this?” she asked, thinking to
all the private times her father and her had teased each other over
sandwiches. She’d been a teen the last time someone had handed her
one, when she wasn’t the one making it.

He looked at her surprised. “What?”

“Nothing,” she muttered, putting down the piece
of bread. The sandwhich had two layers of meat, tomatoes, lettuce,
mustard, mayo, and...pepperoni?

Logan must have noticed her look because his
lips lifted and he said, “Just try it. My mother always put
pepperoni on our sandwiches. We would come out out here all of the
time, to this tree, and mess around. Summer and fall wa akways my
favorite time to come out here with her.” He paused, and Claire
dared not to talk, fearful that if she spoke, he would
stop.

His eyes turned soft.

“Red leaves would fall to the ground, the grass
would be dried up and a nice cream color. It almost matched the
color of her hair,” he said quietly, reaching out and running his
hand over the lively green grass. “She would sit with us and play
with us. She did everything.”

He fell silent, not looking at her.

To make things easier on him, she spoke
quietly. “My father and I…”

She stopped. She probably shouldn’t talk about
him in front of Logan, but the urge to do so was almost
overwhelming. She wanted to be able to confide in this strong,
capable man that seemed as if nothing could break him.

Their eyes caught and held. “Keep going,” he
coaxed, their food forgotten. They sat across each other, the sun
shining around them, the air silent except for the soft buzz of
nature.

“We always went to this place out near the
Black Hills. It was just a small cabin, nothing too grand, but we
had the best time. Horse ridding through the mountains, fishing for
gold in the river… Those were some of the only times that we
actually got to know each other. He’s too busy to take that time
away from work now,” she said sadly, “but we still get time
together… Well not recently, anyways, but…yeah.”

Logan gazed at her for a moment and then said,
“What does he do that keeps him so busy?”

Claire smiled briefly. “He’s into
politics.”

“He must be away a lot then?”

“Yeah, he is. But I know he thinks of me so it
isn’t as bad as some families have it when their father is always
AWOL,” she said, chuckling. Claire knew she was lucky to have the
family she did, to be treated the way she was. Before all of this
crap with one of her father’s competitors, she’d never had a bad
step in her life. She took a bite of her sandwich.