Cassie's Cowboy Daddy

“I’m well aware of that,” she said, her patience beginning to wear on his nerves. “But when Uncle Silas willed me his share of the ranch, I made a firm decision to become an active partner. It’s not fair that you and your family suffered all the hardships, while my family sat back and did nothing. Besides, I want to have firsthand knowledge of how you’re handling our livelihood.”

Logan stopped to glare at her. “I’m a man of my word. If that was good enough for your uncle, it should be good enough for you.”

“I’m not my uncle, Mr. Murdock. Put yourself in my shoes. Would you trust someone you didn’t know with the stakes this high?” When he remained silent, she smiled and rose to leave. “I’m no different. This is my children’s future we’re discussing and I’m not about to leave anything to chance.”

“But what about your family?” Logan asked desperately. “Won’t you miss seeing them?”

She shook her head. “There’s no reason for me to ever return to St. Louis. My parents are both deceased and I don’t have any brothers or sisters.” Opening the office door, she advised, “You might as well accept the fact that, from now on, my daughters and I will be calling the Lazy Ace home.”

He watched her close the door with a quiet click. “Not if I have anything to do with it, lady,” he muttered.

Three

Cassie stood at the foot of the stairs, feather duster in one hand and a bottle of furniture polish in the other. Where should she start?

Yesterday, after finding Logan in the bathtub, she hadn’t given cleaning the house a second thought. A warm shiver coursed through her. She doubted there was a woman alive who could think of dusting and polishing woodwork after seeing Logan Murdock in the buff.

And she’d told a real whopper yesterday when she’d said his body was unremarkable. Just the memory of all that masculine skin and the feel of those rock-hard muscles pressed against her had kept her awake most of the night. Which was about the dumbest thing she’d ever let happen. She wasn’t the least bit interested in Logan or his impressive muscle groups.

Shaking her head to dislodge the memory of his impressive assets from her traitorous brain, she stared at the living room. The man might have a gorgeous body, but he was a slob. Plain and simple. And the reality of the monumental task before her was almost enough to make her rethink her decision to move to the Lazy Ace.

That’s probably why he’s not married. Any woman in her right mind would take one look at the condition of the house and run as hard and fast as she could to get away.

A saddle draped the back of one armchair, while an odd assortment of jeans, shirts and white cotton briefs graced the back of the other. Newspapers, magazines, cups and glasses covered the tables beside the chairs and the coffee table in front of the big leather couch.

Dazed, Cassie turned her attention to the stone fireplace on the far side of the room. The moose head hanging above the mantel sported a Colorado Rockies ball cap, a pair of oversize sunglasses and a necktie screen printed with popular cartoon characters.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Ginny said, walking up beside her. “It looks like a war zone.”

Cassie nodded as she walked over to the fireplace to run the feather duster over the mantel. The cloud raised by the simple action made her sneeze. “When I called last week, Hank said the place needed a woman’s touch.” She picked up a pair of stiff socks from the stone hearth and held them at arm’s length. “But he failed to mention I’d need a bulldozer to clear out the clutter. It’s going to take me weeks to get this place into shape.”

“Funny you should mention that,” Ginny said, grinning. “Hank and I were talking just this morning about how much you’ll have to do to get things straightened up.”

“Tell me about it,” Cassie said dryly. She sneezed again. “This place has dust bunnies the size of buffalo.”

Ginny nodded. “And you’re going to need help. If you don’t mind putting up with me for another week or two, I think I’ll call the office and ask for more time off.”

“Oh, Ginny, I hate for you to use your vacation helping me clean.” Cassie took the cap, tie and sunglasses from the moose’s head. “But I’m not going to turn you down if you really want to stay.”

“Good.” Ginny’s grin was a little too bright, considering the task before them. “I’ll go find Hank and ask him if he’d mind moving some of this heavy furniture so we can clean under it.”

Ginny couldn’t hide the color in her cheeks or the sparkle in her eyes that had nothing whatsoever to do with thoughts of cleaning. It did, however, have everything to do with finding Hank.

Cassie truly felt sorry for her best friend. An incurable romantic, Ginny still believed in finding her knight in shining armor and living happily-ever-after.

But thanks to her late husband, Stan, that was a myth Cassie had abandoned a long time ago.

A knot of disappointment formed in her stomach at the thought of the man she’d vowed to cherish until death. When they married, Cassie had taken for granted that Stan would settle down and work with her to build a future. Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case.

They’d been married only a few months when Cassie realized that it had been Stan’s self-centeredness, not immaturity, that prevented him from accepting the responsibilities of marriage. Even if he hadn’t died, they wouldn’t have stayed together.

She blinked back tears and shook her head. No, happily-ever-afters happened only in fairy tales.

Cussing a blue streak, Logan pitched a bale of straw over the side of the loft. Four more followed in rapid succession. When each one burst open from colliding with the dirt floor below, he gritted his teeth and barely suppressed the urge to growl. Instead of lessening the frustration burning in his gut, he’d only created more.

“Logan, you’re bein’ a real pain in the ass. I wish you’d get off your high horse.” Hank propped his fists on his hips and nodded at the broken bales at his feet. “Now I’m gonna have to get the wheelbarrow so I can get this bedding down to Nicoma’s stall.”

“Maybe it’ll keep you busy enough to avoid making a fool of yourself over the blonde,” Logan shot back.

“Somebody in this barn is makin’ a fool of himself, all right. But it ain’t me.” Hank laughed. “At least I’ve got the good sense to admit the scenery around this old place has improved a hell of a lot since yesterday.”

Logan gripped the ladder and started down. “But for how long?”

He knew he was being irrational. But after tossing and turning all night from the memory of Cassie’s soft body pressed against his, being reasonable wasn’t an option.

Skipping the last two rungs, he jumped to the ground and jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the open doorway. “Just how long do you think it’ll take before the boredom sets in with those two?”

“Maybe it won’t. Not all females are like Andrea.” Hank shook his head. “I never could see the two of you together. I doubt she would survive living anywhere that didn’t include a mall and a four-star restaurant.”

Snorting, Logan ignored the man’s comment about his lapse in judgment. He didn’t intend to waste time thinking about the past. It was Cassie Wellington and the present that bothered him. A lot.

“Once the widow and her friend figure out just how remote this place is, they won’t be able to get away from here fast enough,” Logan said, marching to the end of the barn. He grasped the wooden handles of the wheelbarrow and rolled it next to the broken bales of straw. “Just think how they’d react when winter hits and we’re all snowed in for days at a time.”

“That’s when it starts to get interestin’,” Hank said, his grin wide.

The thought of himself and Cassie stranded for several days, alone in the house with all those bedrooms to choose from, made Logan’s mouth go dry.

Disgusted with himself for giving the notion a second thought, he spoke as much for his own benefit as for Hank’s. “Stop thinking with your hormones and start thinking with your head. I doubt either one of them could make it to the first frost without going stir-crazy.”

“Then what are you worried about?” Hank asked. He grabbed a pitchfork leaning against the wall and forked straw into the cart. “If what you say is true, Cassie and the babies should be packed up and on their way back to St. Louis by the last of the month.”

Logan shook his head and guided the wheelbarrow to the end of the barn. “It’s not that easy.” Stopping at the open stall, he turned to face Hank. “I always thought Silas was a few cards shy of a full deck, but I never realized the old codger had a mean streak to go with it. He knew about my mother dying because we couldn’t get her to the hospital in time and the hell that broke loose afterward. But before he died, he filled Cassie’s head with the idea that this place is some kind of Shangri-la for raising kids.”

“Well, it’s where I intend to raise my kids,” Hank said, shrugging.

“Hank?”

Logan watched Hank’s face split into a wide grin at the sight of Ginny walking down the center aisle of the barn.

“And here comes the mother of those future kids,” Hank said, his voice low.

“You just met the woman,” Logan muttered.

“Doesn’t matter.” Hank handed him the pitchfork and headed toward Ginny. “I know what I want.”

Logan stared as Hank met Ginny halfway up the long corridor, took her into his arms and kissed her like a soldier returning from war. An image of Cassie in his arms, clinging to him as he kissed her, flashed through Logan’s mind, and an unfamiliar feeling twisted his gut.

When Hank finally let her up for air, Ginny sounded breathless. “Cassie…and I…have been…cleaning the living room. Would you…mind helping us move some of the furniture?”