Sooner or later, one of the city’s restaurants or the ski resort would have an opening for a pastry chef. Or a baker. Or...heck, almost anything related to the culinary world—in or out of the kitchen—that would make better use of her education and experience and offer better pay.
“That’s all well and good, Anna, but whether or not you’re employed doesn’t alter my financial obligation. Nor my want to do what is right.”
“I get that,” she said. “But I’ll only accept what is fair. This isn’t about money. It’s about my want for this child to have two involved parents who give a damn. So if this is...well...”
“Is that a yes to my proposal?”
“It’s a maybe,” she said. “But...a strong maybe, I guess. Why is this so important to you? Most men wouldn’t go to such lengths to ensure a connection with their child. And you don’t have to, either. I won’t stand in your way of being a father, Logan. Not unless there were extreme circumstances that forced my hand.”
“My father died when I was two,” he said, almost abruptly. “And he was married to someone other than my mother, though she didn’t know that for a while. There’s more to it, but the bottom line is that I want to offer my child a better foundation than what my father gave me.”
“You can do that without—”
“Please, Anna, don’t say no.” Logan’s body, every inch of it from head to toe, remained in a locked, tense posture. But his eyes... God, they yearned. Pleaded. “Allow me this honor.”
Whatever minute amount of indecision Anna had clung to vanished with these words, with the vulnerability she glimpsed in his eyes. How could she say no? Why would she? Their reasons might differ, but they wanted the same for this life they’d created together.
Before she officially said yes, however, she considered what she might require from this arrangement. She imagined the first year would prove the most difficult while she learned the ropes of motherhood, found her feet and, hopefully, a better job, and made plans for the future.
“Would you agree to stay married until the baby’s first birthday?” she asked, trusting her instincts. All of them. “By then, we’ll have had plenty of opportunity to consider how to best proceed after the...um...divorce, and it will give us time as a family. To bond.”
“Seventeen months, give or take? That’s all you’re asking for?” Logan’s brow furrowed in contemplation. “All you require to move ahead with this arrangement?”
“For the moment,” she blurted, feeling the first true strains of frustration. “I haven’t exactly had a lot of time to go through the various scenarios, now have I?”
“An excellent point, as I suppose I did jump the gun there, didn’t I? And we’re still standing in the hallway.” The corner of his lips twitched in wry amusement. “So, yes, Anna, we can stay married until the baby’s first birthday.”
“Then I accept your proposal.” She spoke quickly, before she could change her mind. Obviously, she’d never dreamed of having a shotgun wedding, but considering the circumstances, it was more than she’d expected. “I’m in. Supposing we can find a cohesive, workable way to becoming partners in raising a child. We have to be on the same team.”
They could manage that much, couldn’t they?
Logan scrubbed his palm over his jaw. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, ignoring the rat-a-tat-tat beat of her heart. “I’m sure.”
Relief, deep and penetrating, clearly washed over him, as the tight hold he had on his body loosened. “Thank you, Anna. The words aren’t enough, I know, but they’re all I have. Other than my promise that we will make this partnership a success.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “And I hope you’re right.”
“Hope isn’t a part of the equation. It’s about focused planning and aligning our goals.” He held his hand toward her. “To that end, we should get started on working out the details.”
“You’d like to do that now?”
“The sooner we understand what this collaboration will entail, the quicker we can move on to planning the wedding and—” he winked “—actually tying the knot.”
Right. The wedding. Her wedding.
She nodded but ignored his hand—touching did not seem like a good idea at the moment—and together, they returned to the kitchen. They took their prior positions at the table and talked for a long, long while. To Anna, it felt more a business negotiation than anything else, but she figured in reality, that was precisely what it was. And if a tiny, minuscule speck of dismay existed at her less-than-romantic wedding plans, she shoved the emotion away.
Why dwell on what she didn’t have—couldn’t have—with Logan? Especially when it was so much smarter to focus on what she did have: an honorable, reliable, responsible man standing firmly at her side. A man who wanted to provide the best he possibly could for their baby. A better man, perhaps, than she’d ever before known.
In Logan, she had a partner, and over time, she might be able to call him a friend, as well. Maybe even a good friend. So yes, it would be enough.
It had to be enough.
Chapter Two (#ulink_a5f2a0db-c7f3-5473-bbb9-3400729340bd)
Logan disconnected the phone call and sighed. How had everything become so damn complicated so damn fast? He’d just finished telling his mother about the baby and his upcoming wedding, and while Carla Cordero had expressed her support, along with a promise to be at the ceremony, she wasn’t jumping for joy over the circumstances.
Why would she be? She knew exactly where he stood, albeit wearing a different pair of shoes. Twenty-nine-odd years ago, she’d been the single woman facing an unexpected pregnancy. And she’d done the only thing she could: packed her bags, left Denver and returned home to her family. So yeah, he understood that she’d wanted different for Logan.
As well, despite the conversation—well, more of an argument—he’d had with his grandfather yesterday, he learned that Zeke was still smoking his cigars, ignoring his meds and flat-out refusing to go along with the low-cholesterol diet his nutritionist had supplied. His mother was anxious, dealing with Zeke and trying to keep Rosalie calm.
And he’d just added a freight train of stress onto her already loaded-down shoulders.
The presence of this baby did not alter the rest of Logan’s life. His family still needed him in Wyoming as much as possible, but returning on a permanent basis would now have to be delayed. To that end, he’d already talked to his landlord about extending the lease on this house for a full year. And, well, he also knew that he’d be spending a lot less time at the ranch than every other week. Anna would require him here, especially as her due date closed in.
On the plus side—not that there was ever a truly good time, because a ranch never went into full sleep mode—the timing of his absence could’ve been a whole lot worse.
While Bur Oak’s primary enterprise was cattle, they also grew hay and corn, and the last of this season’s crops had just been harvested. Fortunately, calving season didn’t start until late spring, months after the baby’s birth, and that was when he’d absolutely have to live at the ranch. Of course, there was a lot of preparation and upkeep required for both of the ranch’s enterprises. Repairs around the property and on machinery were a constant demand, the animals still required tending to and there was a whole mess of other day-in and day-out responsibilities.
None of which fell directly on Logan’s plate—between family and employees, everyone had a role—but he was the conductor of the whole symphony.
He supposed he’d tackle whatever he could, the best he could, and the people in his life would just have to pick up the slack. They would, without question, but that did not stop him from feeling torn by obligation. To his family and his duty, yes, but also to the love he felt toward the land he’d been raised on. That ranch was in his blood, as surely as his DNA.
Zeke had seen to that. From the moment of his birth, Logan had learned everything there was to know about Bur Oak Ranch. The legacy behind the land. The sweat and work and tears and pride that had gone into creating that legacy. The importance of continuing it.
And Logan was damn grateful. He could not imagine his life any other way, and he’d always been surrounded by family. Well...the Cordero side of the family.
The Daugherty side, on the other hand, not so much. Logan had never met his father’s siblings or parents or any cousins that might exist on that branch. And maybe he shouldn’t, but he felt connected to them just the same. Maybe due to Gavin. Maybe because he carried the Daugherty surname. Or because—and this was the more likely explanation—he couldn’t let go of the thought that if his father had lived longer, he would’ve behaved honorably.
Denny must have wanted Logan to carry his last name, or he wouldn’t be a Daugherty. Some would chalk that up to nothing but male pride on his father’s part, but Logan thought it went deeper than that. Hoped so, anyway, now that he knew more of the story.
Initially, in the months after his birth, his grandfather hadn’t allowed Denny to come within spitting distance of the ranch. But Denny refused to take no for an answer, kept showing up despite Zeke’s ire, and Carla would whisk Logan to a park or a restaurant or some other public location in order for father and son to spend time together.
Later, in the year before Denny’s accident, his grandfather had relented, allowing these visits to take place at the ranch. Zeke did not give up a fight—any fight—easily, so Logan had to figure that Granddad saw something in Denny to soften his views. There were photos of father and son playing on the living room floor. There were a few of Logan sitting on his father’s lap, being read to. There was even one of Denny and Logan conked out on the sofa together.
All of this had led him to believe that if Denny had lived, he would’ve eventually brought Logan fully into the Daugherty family, instead of keeping his existence a secret.
Yet he’d never know for sure.
Fortunately, his child would not have the same experience. Logan’s mother, grandparents, uncles and cousins would stand steady. And they’d do so until the day they died. Because damn it, that was what being a part of the Cordero family meant.
Logan’s child would never experience the doubt that he grew up with, wondering why his father hadn’t loved him enough to do what was right. Because even as a kid, he understood that his parents hadn’t been married. He just hadn’t known why. Back then, he’d blamed himself.
Now...well, now he knew better. But kids sensed when something in their world wasn’t quite the way it should be and, without ever saying a word, picked up that weight and carried the full brunt of it everywhere they went, causing all sorts of silent, damaging havoc.
And that right there was precisely why marrying Anna was so all-fired important. He never wanted his kids—regardless of how they came to be—to wonder if they’d been a mistake. And this temporary-marriage idea of his—while harebrained to a rather large extent—was about the best he could come up with to ensure that would not happen.