The Rancher's Wife

Logan released a harsh sigh, bringing the truck to a halt and removing the keys from the ignition. Two blond boys scrambled over the ground at the end of the drive, gathering up what was left of the sleet and packing it into muddy balls.

“Hide everything you value and get your armor on, Amy,” Traci said, yanking out her earbuds and shoving them along with her cell phone into her bag.

“Are they that bad?” Amy asked, a hesitant smile peeking through her tight expression.

Logan grinned. “Nah. They’re just being boys.”

“Yeah, right,” Traci drawled. “Tell me that the next time they break my phone. Or take my bras and use them for slingshots. Or draw plans for their fort on my homework—”

“All right, Traci.” He laughed, muscles relaxing. “I know they’ve done you wrong a time or two but they do it with love.”

Traci harrumphed and shoved her door open.

“That’s one warped way to look at it,” she grumbled good-naturedly, jumping out and taking swift strides up the dirt drive.

The boys noticed Traci approaching and stilled. A huddle, quick whisper and nod later, they advanced, surrounding her and pelting her with their icy bundles.

“Stop it, squirts,” Traci squealed, “or I’ll smooch you into oblivion.”

Traci swooped down with open arms, bag flopping over one shoulder, and chased them. One twin escaped but she caught the other, scooping up the wriggling boy and plastering noisy kisses all over his face.

“Yuck!” The escapee ran several feet across the mud and jerked to a halt at Logan’s open door. He scowled, jabbing a dirty finger in Traci’s direction. “Look what Traci’s doing to Jayden, Uncle Logan. Tell her to stop.”

Logan stifled a laugh. Leave it to Kayden. He was always the first to point the finger of blame.

“Come on, now,” Logan said. “You can’t go on the attack, then cry for help. Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”

“I ain’t did no dishing,” Kayden argued. He paused, forehead scrunching before saying, “I didn’t do any dishing.”

“That sounds better,” Logan praised.

Kayden nodded. “Aunt Cissy don’t like us using no double negatives.” He climbed onto the truck’s running board and leaned into his hands on Logan’s thigh. “Anyways, I ain’t did no dishing. We were just throwing snowballs.”

“There’s no snow out here, buddy.” Logan ruffled his golden hair. “Y’all were throwing ice.”

“So.” Kayden shrugged. “It’s white.”

“Unlike a friendly snowball, ice hurts and I’m sure Traci felt a twinge or two. Both of you owe her an apology.”

“Yes, sir.” Kayden rolled his eyes, the blue pools skimming over Logan then narrowing on Amy. “Is that her?”

Logan turned, absorbing the warm look Amy directed at Kayden, and smiled. “Yeah. This is your aunt Amy.”

Amy frowned but quickly adopted a polite smile when Kayden leaned in for a closer look at her.

Logan helped Kayden jump from the running board back to the ground. “Why don’t you go around and introduce yourself properly?”

Kayden took off, his blond head bobbing out of view as he rounded the front of the truck.

“It’s not a good idea introducing me as their aunt, Logan.” Amy unbuckled her seat belt. It snapped back with a clang. “I’m leaving for good soon.”

“Maybe.” Logan met her hard stare with one of his own. “But you’re here now.”

She shook her head, grabbed her purse and climbed out of the truck. Logan followed, strolling to the other side of the truck to find Kayden tipping his head back and staring up at Amy.

“Gahlee, you’re tall,” Kayden said, mouth hanging open.

Amy’s grin faltered as she teetered, her high heels sinking into the mud of the driveway. Logan stifled a laugh. The combination of melted ice and dirt had turned the path into slick mush. She yanked against it, attempting to jerk her shoes free, but the sludge won out.

Kayden stepped closer, studying her sinking shoes, then observing the rest of her. He blushed and stuck out dirty fingers. “I’m Kayden. And that’s my brother, Jayden, over there. Good to meet ’cha.”

Amy lowered with care, braced with one palm against the truck for balance and shook his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, Kayden.”

“Boys,” a deep voice called.

They all turned. Dominic ambled down the wide front porch steps of the main house and crossed the lawn toward them.

“Uh-oh.” Kayden smirked.

He tore off toward the house, Jayden and Traci following. Dominic swept the boys against his thighs as they passed, kissing their heads and shooing them toward the porch with a pat on the butt.

Logan held Amy’s elbow and helped her regain her balance. “You gonna ditch those shoes now?”

“No need.”

She steadied herself by holding his forearms and yanked her heels from the suck of the mud. They broke free with a deep slosh. She lifted onto her toes, released her grip on his arms and straightened her purse strap on her shoulder.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dominic drawled, smiling wide and knuckling his Stetson higher on his brow. He strutted over, landing a heavy pat on Logan’s back, then edging past him. “My partner in crime has returned.”

Dominic wrapped his burly arms around Amy’s waist, lifting her in a tight hug and spinning in a wide circle. She laughed, pure contentment shining on her face and eyes welling with happy tears. Logan savored the sight briefly then shoved his fists in his pockets and looked away.

“It’s about time your butt moseyed back, kid,” Dominic murmured. “Where the hell you been?”

“Around.” She struggled to catch her breath.

“I’ve missed you.” Dominic leaned back and studied her. “We’ve all missed you.”

Logan’s skin tingled under the weight of Dominic’s stare. He glanced over, eyes locking with his younger brother’s.

“Haven’t we?” Dominic asked.

Logan nodded, dragging a hand from his pocket and kneading the back of his neck. That kink was back, the pain streaking from the base of his skull down between his shoulder blades.

Amy cleared her throat, tapping Dominic’s ankles with the toes of her shoes. “You can put me down now.”

Dominic’s lip curled, his tone teasing. “Don’t know if I should. Doubt you’ll make it to the house in those city-girl contraptions.” He frowned at Logan. “You let her run around in these things?”

Logan opened his mouth but Amy beat him to it.

“He doesn’t need to let me do anything.” She popped her knuckles against Dominic’s shoulder. “I do what I want when I please. Now, put me down.”

Dominic chuckled. “Yep.” He nodded with pleasure at Logan. “This is damn sure our girl you brought back with you.”

“Almost as good as new,” Logan said, voice catching.

Amy’s cheeks flamed cherry-red and she shoved harder at Dominic’s broad shoulder until he lowered her to the ground. Logan stepped forward, keeping a close hold on her elbow until she steadied on the mud and shrugged away his touch.

Amy nudged the bobby pins holding her updo into a more secure position and asked, “Were those your two misfits I saw earlier?”

The pride in Dominic’s face was unmistakable. “Yep. Those are my boys. I adopted them last year after I married their aunt. Wished you’d been here for it, Ames.” He smiled. “Can’t wait for you to meet my wife. I know you’ll love Cissy as much as I do. And we’re expecti—”

“That’s enough for now, Dom.” Logan’s throat tightened at the quiver in Amy’s chin. “It’s been a long drive back. Let her rest before you yap her ear off.”

Dominic nodded, his smile dimming. “Sun’s dropping.” He waved a tanned hand toward the horizon. “It’ll be dark soon. ’Bout time I started rounding up the horses.”

“I’ll help,” Amy said.

She squeezed Dominic’s arm and brushed between them, making her way toward the paddocks grouped near the massive stable.

Dominic crossed to Logan’s side, watching Amy’s slow progress across the field. “How is she?”

“Better than she was four years ago,” Logan said, trying to ignore the hollow in his gut at the memories assailing him. Amy, pale and unconscious, lying in a hospital bed while he sat by her side praying she’d wake up. His relief at her pulling through had been short-lived. After losing their daughter, she’d become a shadow of her former self. Each failed effort at becoming pregnant again had caused her to grow more listless and depressed over the following months.

Logan studied Amy’s careful steps toward the paddock. “She seems physically healthy at least but she’s still not herself.”

The sun dipped sharply and an orange glow of light flooded the fields, silhouetting Amy’s lithe figure. The outline of her curvy form turned black, becoming a stark contrast to the fiery light bathing the landscape.

“Y’all made any decisions about the future?” Dominic asked.

Logan sighed. “Amy has. Says she’s moving again.”

“Where to?”

“Michigan.”

“Damn.” Dominic shook his head, kicking the ground with his boot and squinting at the glare of the setting sun. “You talk her out of it yet?”

“No.” Logan cut his eyes to Dominic. “And don’t go bringing it up. Betty doesn’t know yet, and Amy only told Traci she was moving to a new apartment, not where. Amy hasn’t had time to settle in. She gets to feeling cornered, she’ll pack up and leave. Then I won’t have a chance in hell of getting her to stay.”

“Well, if you ever do need me to talk to her, just say the word.”

Logan scoffed. “She’s my wife. If anyone talks to her, it’ll be me.”

Dominic stilled, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Well, hell, bro. You’re getting hard-core in your old age, yeah?”

A burst of laughter broke from Logan’s chest and the tension faded from his limbs. He loved having his brother back home again. He grabbed the back of Dominic’s neck and squeezed, giving him a playful shake.

“Old? If you know what’s good for you, you’ll cut that shit out.”

Dominic laughed and shoved him off. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Logan smiled and led the way over to the paddock to join Amy. She leaned further over the top rail of the fence as several horses milled around the enclosure. She pointed at a golden stallion standing a head taller than the rest, his white mane rippling with each movement of his broad neck.

“Is that my Lightning?” she asked.

“Yeah.” A wave of pleasure swept through Logan at the eager expression on her face. “You’re welcome to tuck him in for the night.” He lowered his voice to a teasing tone. “That is, if you can make it over the fence and across the field in that stuffy getup.”

Dominic chuckled at his side and Amy smirked, a hint of her old spirit shining in her eyes.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said.

She inhaled and whistled around two fingers. The melodic sound traveled across the expanse of the paddock, perking up the horses’ ears and rebounding off the stable walls. Lightning shot to attention, spun and galloped toward the fence. He drew to a halt, dipping his broad head over the top rail and nuzzling his nose against her shoulder.

“Good boy,” she crooned, kissing Lightning’s forehead and resting her dark head against his thick neck. “You’re still a beauty.”

“He oughta be a beauty,” Dominic said. “Logan’s been babying him for the last four years.”

Logan grunted, rubbing Lightning’s back. “There’s nothing wrong with a little extra attention. And he deserved it. He’s pulled his weight on the trails. Every new guest we get requests him.” He looked up to find Amy’s eyes clinging to his. “You trained him well.”

Amy rolled her lips, a smile fighting at the corners of her mouth. “I wasn’t alone in that. Besides, you were the one that trained me, remember?”

“I remember,” he whispered.

He reached out and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. The silky feel of it lingered on his fingertips, heating his blood.

Amy stepped back, eyes sifting through the rest of the horses. “Where’s Thunder?”

Logan stiffened. Of course she’d ask about Thunder. That black stallion had always been one of her favorites, along with Lightning. He curled his fists around the fence rail.

“Logan?” Amy’s hands covered his, her face creased with worry. “Where is he?”

Logan glanced at Dominic. He winced, his dark eyes moving to hover over the stables in the distance.

Logan sighed. He should’ve prepared for this. Should’ve had something ready to say. The last thing Amy needed right now was bad news and he didn’t want to be the one to deliver it. Unfortunately, there was no way around this.

Logan shoved off the fence and took Amy’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the fragile skin of her wrist. “Come on. I’ll take you to him.”

* * *

AMY SHIVERED. THE warmth of the sun faded and the approaching darkness sent a chill through the air. It sliced beneath her flesh and traveled to her bones, forcing her to huddle closer to Logan’s side. His big hand tugged, leading her away from the paddock and down the winding trail to the stables.

The tight set of Logan’s jaw and his continued silence froze the blood in her veins. She scanned the path before them, following the familiar curves to the stable where she’d spent the majority of her childhood days.

Every morning, she’d raced to the stalls to plop at Logan’s feet and watch him groom the horses. And every afternoon, she’d returned to lean in the doorway and wait for his return. The image of him mounted on his horse, slowly crossing the field, seemed emblazoned on her memory. She was certain the image of her idolizing expression remained imprinted on his.

Her face flamed despite the cool bite of winter air. Amy lifted her chin and straightened the collar of her blouse with her free hand. None of it mattered. There wasn’t any point in seeking out old comforts. Or reliving past humiliations. She wasn’t staying long enough to enjoy one or endure the other.

She craned her neck, peering past the open doors of the stable for a glimpse of Thunder’s dark hair. She knew the exact shade. Years ago, when she’d delivered the foal, she’d stayed to watch Thunder rise on trembling legs then spent the next week smoothing her hands over his black mane.

Logan’s hand tightened around hers and he slowed his step. “There was an accident a couple of months ago.” He stopped inside the stable entrance, drawing her to a halt. “One of the guests took Thunder out without permission. Some arrogant young suit on vacation, playing at being a rancher for the week.”

His mouth firmed into a tight line, throat moving on a hard swallow.

“He knew Thunder was a jumper. Drove him over a few fences and off the lot.” He released her, hands shoving deep into his pockets. “Raintree probably looked endless to him, being a city boy and all. He left the ranch and ran Thunder right into the highway.” He looked back across the empty fields, shoulders sagging. “Those transfer trucks don’t stop for anything out here. Don’t know if he was trying to race or didn’t see the truck coming, but their paths crossed.”

Amy froze. Thunder was a strong stallion, ripped with muscled bulk and impressive speed. But he’d be no match for a transfer truck. Not the kind that sped along the isolated highways surrounding Raintree.

“Was he...?” Her throat constricted, the question catching.

“No.” Logan’s black eyes shot to her face and his deep voice softened. “You know Thunder. He’s not going down without a fight.” A grim smile curved his lips. “He reared, bucked that boy off him and jumped. Almost made it out of the way.” His expression darkened. “But almosts don’t cut it. He got clipped and was banged up pretty bad. We thought for sure he wouldn’t last the night but he did. He’s not the same, though. Whole thing scarred him bad. Turned him wild. None of us have been able to make any headway with him.”

Amy scanned the empty stalls lining the stable, eyes scrambling from one to the next.

“Only thing that saved the guest was Thunder’s instincts,” Logan said. “That kid came out of it with a few cuts and bruises. A lot less than he deserved.” He cleared his throat. “I wish I’d kept a closer eye on him. He was a reckless rider. And a selfish one to boot.”

Amy took in the hard set of Logan’s jaw. He’d always been controlled and practical but he had a soft spot for his horses. Often went to extremes to protect and care for them. It was one of the many things she still admired about him.

She touched his arm, fingers resting lightly against the hard curve of his bicep. “You’re not meant to control people any more than horses. You can only lead them. How many times did you tell me that over the years?”

Amy’s gut clenched, a surge of shameful heat flooding her. Logan had repeated the mantra a thousand times when she’d struggled with training a horse. She could still see his somber expression as he’d delivered the sentiment, but she’d never really listened. Instead, she’d pushed the boundaries of their friendship and tempted him into a different relationship. Had tried to control him all the same.

Logan withdrew his hand from his pocket, capturing hers and smoothing his thumb over her wrist. “He’s not the same, Amy. You still want to see him?”

She nodded.

Logan took her elbow, guiding her down the aisle past the empty stalls to a large one tucked in the back. An eerie stillness settled around them. The front of the stall remained empty, a dark bulk huddling in the back corner.

Heart pounding, Amy leaned closer and secured her purse strap on her shoulder with shaky fingers.

“Hey, boy,” she whispered.

There was no response. Only the stallion’s heavy breathing disturbed the silence.

“Thunder?” She took a small step forward, palm pressing to the stall guard and fingers wrapping around the bars. “Hey, b—”

A hoof slammed into the bars, the edge of it ramming against her knuckles and rattling the stall door on its frame. Amy jumped back, heels clacking over the bricked floor and catching on the slight crevices in between. One cracked loose in the process.

Logan’s strong arms wrapped around her right before she slammed into the floor. Her purse dropped from her shoulder and tangled around her ankles, contents spilling out. The relentless pounding continued, Thunder’s kicks increasing in intensity and echoing around them.

“Are you okay?” Logan reached for her injured hand.

“I’m fine,” she choked.

She drew her throbbing fingers to her chest, cradling them and gritting her teeth.

“Let me see.” Logan’s brow creased and he tugged at her wrist.

“It’s fine,” she bit out, stifling a grimace. “He skimmed me.”

The kicking stopped. Amy glanced up as the strong pull and push of Thunder’s heaving breaths grew close. His broad head appeared against the bars. A savage scar stretched across his chiseled face and down his muscular neck. Amy winced at his glare, the whites of his eyes stark against the wide and wild depths of his pupils.

“He’s been through a lot,” Logan said. “It’s changed him. In the beginning, I thought there was still a chance I could bring him around. But I lost his trust along the way. I’m out of options. I have to put him down.”

“No,” she whispered.

Thunder’s lips drew back and he cried, the sharp sound screeching through the air and splitting her ears. He slammed his front hooves against the door then jerked away to pace the stall, his pained cries turning fierce.

Amy’s legs shook. She bent carefully to gather up the contents of her purse. Shoving the scattered items back inside, she caught sight of the bundle of crumpled divorce papers. She snatched them up and drove them deep into her purse.

Metal clanked as Thunder dove forward and butted the stall door with his head. Eyes flaring, he fixed his gaze to hers and stared deep, tearing past the layers of her polished appearance and creeping beneath her skin. He jerked his head, screaming louder and kicking harder.

Amy choked back a sob and shoved to her feet. Logan was right. Thunder wasn’t the same. But to consider ending his life...

“You can’t put him down, Logan,” she said, turning away and stumbling on the loose heel of her shoe. “Not without giving him a fair shot.”

Logan held her arms and steadied her. “I have. Nothing has worked. He’s a danger to himself and the other horses and he’s especially aggressive around the boys. There’s not one single rehabilitation outfit willing to relocate him after laying eyes on him.” He sighed. “I can’t, in good conscience, allow him to exist in fear and isolation with no quality of life. I’m sorry. There’s nothing else that can be done.”

Amy ducked her burning face. “That’s not true,” she said, pushing past him. “There’s always a way.”

The urge to return to Thunder was strong. To stay at his side, try to coax his spirit back and give him a fighting chance. But that would mean staying. And it was time to move on.

She dragged her purse strap back onto her shoulder and brushed at her clothes. But even though the creases in the material released, the guilt remained. It clung to her skin and clogged her throat, suffocating her. Just as it had every day for the past four years.

Her steps slowed, legs stilling of their own accord. She cast one last look at Thunder’s violent attack on the stall. “Surely, there’s something you can d—”

Thunder’s screech overtook her voice, the words dying on her lips.

“He fought hard to survive, Amy.” Logan’s expression turned grim, his thumb spinning the ring on his finger. “But, sometimes, that’s just not enough.”

She spun, taking swift strides out of the stable and away from the stallion’s broken state. She’d worked hard to survive, too. And she couldn’t gamble the new life she’d fought for to recapture a past full of failures and sins.

Logan’s eyes bored into her back. Amy hurried up the hill, thighs burning. Thunder’s painful cries lingered on the air, hovering around her and haunting the path to the main house.

Chapter Three

“Hold on to your heart, girl.”

Amy whispered the words and pressed her fingertips to the cold metal of Logan’s truck. By the time she’d made her way back from the stables, the sun had disappeared and night had settled in. The full moon and stars cast a hazy glow over the surrounding fields, lengthening the shadows stretching from the fences and barn.

She grazed her throbbing knuckles over the ring hidden beneath her collar and grimaced, recalling the band on Logan’s hand. Her chest tightened. She shook her head, reached into the bed of Logan’s truck and hefted out one of her black bags.

“Here.” Logan’s chest brushed her back. He reached around her for the bag, his fingers brushing hers. “Let me.”

“I’ve got it.”

Amy hoisted the bag and leaned over to retrieve the second one. Logan scooped it up first. He flicked the cuff of his flannel shirt back and examined the glowing hands of his wristwatch.

“It’s almost six,” he said. “We better get a move on.”

He led the way up the drive toward the main house, the strong line of his back and lean jean-clad hips moving with confidence. Amy’s belly fluttered. She tore her eyes away and surveyed the entrance to the main house which was bathed in the soft glow of the porch lights.

Massive mahogany doors were adorned with lush green wreaths and red ribbons. The colorful cheer extended beyond the wreaths to the crimson ribbon wrapped around the large columns. Poinsettia blooms nestled in the nooks and crannies of the railing lining the porch and the warm glow emanating from inside the house enhanced the twinkling of the white lights draping the posts and eaves.

Christmas. Amy’s steps faltered on the slippery ground. It’d been so long since she’d spent the holidays at home with family. Since she’d left Raintree, the color and comfort of Christmas had faded and the holiday had contorted into a pale passing of a day. A low and lifeless one she’d grown accustomed to spending alone.

Amy swallowed the lump in her throat and strived for a light tone. “Why are all the decorations out already? Mama used to say it was a sin to put up Christmas lights before Thanksgiving was over.”