Logan's Child

“Maybe I should have been born a boy,” she said to herself, knowing in her heart that Brant had loved her once just the way she was. No, she couldn’t hold a grudge for something she had forced her father to do. She had asked Brant to allow Logan to stay on, had begged him not to fire Logan.

“It’s all my fault, Daddy,” she had said at the time. “I…I flirted with him. I wanted to be with him. If you send him away, Gayle will go with him. Then they won’t have a place to live. Please, Daddy, don’t do this. I’ll go…I’ll go back to Dallas, and I promise I won’t have anything to do with Logan again.”

She’d always believed she’d done Logan a favor. Now she had to wonder if instead she’d done him a great disservice by fighting his fight for him. But in the end it didn’t really matter. She’d made the best decision, based on her love for Logan at the time.

Now she had the power to destroy everything that was left between them. She wanted to be rid of her past. That was why she’d been determined to sell this place. And now she’d come face-to-face with that past again, but there was so much more to have to deal with, so much responsibility being thrown on her shoulders.

Her first instinct was to run as far away from this place as she could possibly get. If she got involved in Brant’s dreams for this ranch, she’d be up to her eyeballs in something that might quite possibly become an overwhelming burden. Yet if she didn’t at least think about keeping the ranch and continuing her father’s work here, she’d never forgive herself.

Was she up to the task? Could she face down the secrets of her past with Logan, for the sake of her father’s dream and for the sake of these children who’d been entrusted to his care?

Without warning, little Caleb’s cherubic face came to mind. She couldn’t get the picture of the little boy who’d been clinging to Logan out of her head. What would happen to Caleb if she sold the ranch?

How could she make such an important decision when she was so very tired and confused? The big mare snorted, her brown eyes giving away no secrets as she nuzzled Trixie’s hand with her wet nose.

“Guess I need to pray hard,” Trixie said to the animal. “That’s what Granddaddy always tells me to do when I have a problem.”

She let the mare finish the last of the mash, then dusted her wet hand against her pants before she walked on through the stables. When she came to the little tack room, Trixie stopped and closed her eyes against the intensity of her memories, the smell of saddle soap and horse sweat blending together in her mind. It was here in this very room, where Logan had first kissed her. She’d fallen in love that summer—her first love. But it wasn’t meant to be. Now she had Rad and her life with him was all planned out. Everyone said they made a perfect couple.

Trixie closed her eyes. Help me make the right decision, Lord.

When she opened her eyes, Logan was standing in the doorway watching her, his own eyes devoid of any condemnation or judgment. For just a moment, it was as if time had stopped and they were back there, young and carefree and exploring the raging emotions coursing between them. But Trixie had to remind herself that that time was over.

Logan, however, had other considerations on his mind. He walked toward her with a purposeful look on his face, then took her into his arms without a word. Before Trixie could voice a protest, he kissed her, long and hard, stealing the breath right out of her body. Then he stood back and held his hands on her arms, his eyes bright with hope and longing.

“Stay awhile, Tricia Maria,” he said, his breath ragged from the effect of the kiss. “Stay and see for yourself all of the good we’re doing here. You owe me that much at least, before you decide what to do about this place.”

“Is that why you kissed me?” she asked, her heart pumping, her voice raw with pain.

Logan’s mouth came close to hers again. “No, I kissed you because I wanted to, because I couldn’t stop myself. But I’m asking you to stay because I intend to fight you on this. I won’t let you sell this place without at least putting up a good struggle. You said you’d consider everything and take in all the facts before you made a choice.”

“I did say that,” she admitted, thinking he was one smooth operator. “And I can’t make an informed decision without seeing how this place operates.”

He leaned close again, his breath fanning her face. “Then you’ll stay?”

She swallowed back the fear coursing through her system. Somehow she knew her answer would change both of their lives. “Yes, I’ll stay,” she said, her gaze holding his.

“Fair enough.”

Logan let her go then, turning to get away from the overpowering urge to pull her back into his arms. He hoped he’d done the right thing by asking her to remain here for a while. He didn’t really have any other choice. Somehow, he had to make Trixie see that this place could make a difference, not just in the lives of all of those children, but in her own life, also.

He would do that much at least for Brant’s sake.

Even if it meant having to tell Trixie the truth at last.

Chapter Four (#ulink_188d16a2-342a-5137-849d-25d318ff2bf1)

“Mother, I’ve made my decision. I’m only going to stay a few days, so don’t worry.” Trixie tried once again to convince her mother that she wasn’t being impulsive, then listened as Pamela’s shrill words shot through the phone line.

“Well, I am worried, young lady,” Pamela said with an impatient huff. “You have no business hanging around with that…that field hand.”

“Logan is the foreman of this ranch,” Trixie reminded her mother, anger causing her to grind the words out. “He’s very capable of showing me what’s going on here.”

“Oh, he’s capable, all right. Apparently you’ve forgotten just exactly what that man is capable of doing.”

Trixie closed her eyes, willing herself to stay calm. They’d had this argument before. Pamela did not believe Logan Maxwell was good enough to even speak to her daughter, therefore she couldn’t dare acknowledge that he’d done much more, without laying the blame at his feet completely.

“No, Mother, I haven’t forgotten anything about Logan. But I’m asking you to trust me on this. I’m not here to stir up things with Logan again. I’m here to make a decision—an important decision—regarding what to do about this ranch.”

“Sell it!” Pamela shouted. “It’s that simple, Trixie. Harlan has left it up to you, and that’s what needs to be done. No decision necessary.”

“I disagree, Mother,” Trixie replied, her tone firm and controlled in spite of her trembling hand holding the phone. “Since neither the lawyers nor you told me the whole truth about this situation, I’m now forced to investigate things for myself. And that means I have to stay here longer than I’d planned.”

Trixie had already called her office and her assistant was prepared to cover matters there. She also had her client list with her, so she could handle any emergencies that came up, if necessary.

“Everything is under control,” she told her mother.

Except my heart and your temper, Trixie thought.

“And what about your engagement party?”

“I’ll be back in Dallas in plenty of time to tie up the loose ends for the party.”

“You have obligations, Trixie. It’s expected—”

“I know, I know,” Trixie interrupted. “People will talk and think the worst, and you might miss an opportunity to have your picture in the society pages.”

A long sigh. “Tricia Maria, that was low and uncalled for.”

“Mother, I’m sorry. Just let me do what has to be done and I’ll be home at the end of the week.”

“I don’t like this.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“Well, I didn’t get over it the first time.”

Trixie sat silent for a minute, counting to ten until the sting of her mother’s deliberate reminder had passed, then said, “No, Mother, neither of us did. And that’s something you’ll never let me forget, isn’t it?”

Realizing she’d been cruel, Pamela tried to make amends. “Darling, I just want you to be happy. And Rad is such a wonderful man. I just want you home, to try on your gown for the party and to help me get all of this organized. You know I’ve reserved the entire country club, and of course I’ve invited so many people. Why, I’ve hired a firm just to address and mail out the invitations, and then I’ve got the caterers and the florists to deal with. I could really use your help, since this is all for you, anyway.”

Automatically forgiving her mother’s barbs and ignoring the excited pitch of Pamela’s line of conversation, Trixie replied, “You’ll do a great job on the party. You’ve always been one of the best hostesses in Dallas, whether it’s for me or anyone else. And I promise I’ll be there soon.”

The compliment soothed Pamela’s fragile ego enough that she gave in. “Oh, all right. Just shed yourself of that place, once and for all, so you can get on with your life.”

Trixie hung up, wondering if Pamela had a clue as to what her daughter really wanted out of life. For years now, Trixie had let her mother steer the reins of her existence. And Pamela had taken full advantage of Trixie’s disinterest, guiding her to what she believed to be all the right places and all the best people. Trixie had allowed it out of guilt, mostly, and because she herself didn’t have the strength or the ambition to really care.

Now, however, Trixie felt the tides of her future changing. It had taken her father’s death to cause her to see the light. She’d missed out on so much; she could have been here, by his side, helping him to realize his dream. It was such a big, lofty dream, yet with such a simple concept. He wanted to help others; he wanted to be fair and good and kind and nurturing. And Brant Dunaway had been all of those things. Too late, Trixie saw that now.