Cowboys Like Us (11 page)

“Yes, he would.” Peter nodded. “And if you go that route, Logan, you probably can’t do what I have in mind.”

“Which is?”

“I’d love to have you help run the program each summer. Kids love their sports idols, and you would be worshipped by the boys. You could do team building with them. If Sarah agreed, we could lay out a ball field in one of the meadows. You’d be a tremendous asset to the program. Of course, I doubt I could pay what the networks could pay.”

Logan picked up his beer but didn’t drink. “I appreciate the offer, and money isn’t really the issue, but—”

“You have other plans,” Peter said. “More exciting plans. I understand completely. It was just a thought.”

“It’s not only that. You’d also want me to be a positive psychological influence on those kids and I’m not sure I would be.”

“Nonsense. Of course you would. You’ve achieved so much, and I know you had to have a great deal of self-discipline to do that. You could pass that on to them.”

Logan shook his head. “I don’t know that I could. Your plan’s a good one, but I’m not a guy who could inspire anyone right now.”

Peter gazed at him in silence for several seconds. “It’s too soon. I can see that now. Forgive an old guy for rushing his swing. I’m so excited about the project that I barrel ahead even when I should go slow.” He shrugged. “Besides, I still have to talk this lovely lady and her three sons into going along with my zany plan.”

“It’s not zany,” Sarah said, her cheeks pink. “I think Archie and Nelsie would have loved the idea.”

Caro couldn’t say for sure about that, because she hadn’t known the two people who’d created the Last Chance Ranch. But Peter Beckett’s project gave her a new perspective. Logan had turned down his offer, but mostly because his self-confidence wasn’t in the best shape right now.

But he was improving in that area. She’d seen progress in the short time she’d been a part of his life. For the first time since laying eyes on Logan, Caro nursed a tiny flame of hope that he might not be out of reach, after all.

L
OGAN HAD BEEN RELUCTANT
to lay himself bare like that, but somebody with Peter Beckett’s good heart deserved the truth and not some trumped-up excuse. He’d expected Beckett would want to talk baseball. He’d been unprepared for a job offer.

As the four of them sat in the living room talking about Beckett’s plans for the program, Logan was glad he’d refused the offer. Maybe someday he’d feel that he was qualified to guide young kids, but not now, or in the near future. He was having enough trouble figuring out his own life, let alone helping some teenagers figure out theirs.

Jack and Josie arrived and were told about the project. Josie was immediately enthusiastic, while Jack, typically for him, apparently, was more reserved. The group moved from the living room down the hallway, through the large dining room that seated all the hands during lunch, and into the small family dining room.

“The kids could eat in the big room with the hands during lunch,” Josie said as they took their seats at the table. “And then they could gather here for dinner.”

“What about family dinners on Friday nights?” Jack asked. “When we have the whole family here, we fill the place.”

“I know exactly what we’ll do.” Sarah’s eyes were bright
as she looked over at Peter, seated to her left. “Friday nights will be an old-fashioned cowboy cookout down by the bunkhouse with the hands. I’m sure Watkins can handle that.”

“Indeed, he could.” The ranch’s cook came through the door with platters of ribs. “And that would get him out of my hair for the time being.”

Jack laughed. “Come on, Mary Lou. We all know you don’t mind having Watkins around all that much.”

Mary Lou rolled her eyes. “Depends. Sometimes he’s a royal pain in the patoot.”

Logan had talked a couple of times with the stocky wrangler, who sported an impressive handlebar mustache worthy of vintage baseball players. Logan had also heard the rumors that Watkins and Mary Lou were pretty tight. In fact, Watkins had been known to make regular nighttime visits to Mary Lou’s apartment, located right off the kitchen.

“In any case,” Sarah said, “we could put Watkins in charge of a cookout, which would free up the family dining room on Friday nights. I really like Peter’s whole concept. I hope Nick and Gabe do, too.”

Jack cleared his throat. “Hang on a minute, Mom. I haven’t said I was in favor.”

“Aren’t you?”

Jack looked over at Peter. “I’d need to see some figures.” Then he turned back to Sarah. “And what about Emmett’s daughter, Emily? She’s renting one of the upstairs bedrooms right now.”

“Yes, she is, but unless I’m misreading the signs, she and Clay Whitaker will be married before next summer. She’ll have moved out by then.”

Jack picked up his fork. “We’d have to change the bedroom furniture, maybe put up some bunks.” He glanced at Logan. “Built-ins make the most sense. If this is going to fly, we sure could use your carpentry skills.”

“Well, I—”

“I’m afraid Logan’s got other plans,” Peter said.

Logan wasn’t ready to be a project leader, but the bunk beds sounded like a fun thing to do, and he didn’t want Peter speaking for him, either. “Depending on when you need them, I might be able to help with the bunks.” He looked at Caro. Yes, he might have to return to Chicago soon, but the prospect of a future trip sounded good to him. Her quick smile told him she thought so, too, and his heart warmed.

“Excellent.” Sarah beamed at Peter. “See how this is coming together?”

Logan thought something else might be coming together. According to Alex, Sarah had been a widow for almost two years, and Logan thought she was showing more than a friendly interest in Peter.

“So what does Mrs. Beckett think of the idea?” Josie asked.

Logan used his napkin to hide a smile. Count on Josie to cut to the chase.

“I’m sure she’d have loved the idea,” Peter said. “She passed away three years ago.”

Everybody around the table murmured their regrets, but glances darted with new interest to Sarah and Peter. It would be entertaining to stick around and see how this all turned out. Logan began to see the Last Chance as a continuing story, one that would never quite end, unlike his baseball career. He had to admit he was drawn to that aspect.

But he had more immediate concerns. Through some jockeying, Caro had arranged to sit next to Josie. Now they had their heads together, and Logan knew exactly what, or who, they were talking about. Josie kept looking at him, and he had to pretend not to notice.

Gradually the meal came to an end. Coffee and dessert were served and consumed. Chairs scraped back, and goodbyes started to circulate.

Logan glanced across the table at Caro, and she gave him a carefully disguised thumbs-up. Joy rushed through him and he fought the urge to suggest leaving immediately. Instead he lingered, waiting for the dining room to empty out.

Finally Josie made it around to his side of the table. “I’ve had an interesting conversation with Caro,” she said in a low voice.

“And?”

“Just so you know, if you cause that girl any distress whatsoever, you’ll answer to me.”

He nodded. “Understood.”

“She thinks you hung the moon, but I know better.”

“Do you have to be so hard on me, Josie?”

“Not if you’ll stick around and build cradles and bunk beds.”

“That’s not what you’d call a career path.”

“No, but it beats wallowing in self-pity.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“I hope not, Logan. I sincerely hope not, both for your sake and Caro’s.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Be good to her. She’s a special person.”

“I know.” His response was automatic, but he was still stuck on her “wallowing in self-pity” remark. That sounded a whole lot worse than trying to get his bearings, or searching for a new direction.

He was still considering that when Caro came to stand beside him.

“I think we’re cleared to leave,” she said. “Whatever vehicle you’re borrowing, you should get it now if you’re planning to follow me home.”

“Caro, do you think I’m wallowing in self-pity?”

“Who told you that?”

“Josie.”

Caro’s response was a little slow in coming. “Well, don’t forget that she’s pregnant and hormonal.”

“Right.” But Caro hadn’t really answered his question. Maybe she and everyone else on the ranch thought he
was
wallowing in self-pity. God, he hoped not. That was the last thing in the world he’d want to do.

The first thing, though, was to obtain a set of keys. He approached Jack. “Is there a truck I can drive for the time being?”

“Yeah. Josie already mentioned that you wanted to follow Caro into town tonight. Take the green Chevy. The keys are on the second hook from the right on the board hanging by the door.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

“Don’t mention it. By the way, I spent a lot of nights in that apartment myself. There are shades tucked up under the valance of the curtains. I’d use them if I were you.” “Duly noted.”

“And make sure they’re all the way down, because they tend to flip back up a couple of inches and you’d be surprised what people can see.”

“Good to know.”

“Oh, and one other thing. The kitchen table isn’t as sturdy as it looks.”

C
ARO DROVE THROUGH THE
night with the windows down and the radio up. Country tunes serenaded her as she kept checking her rearview mirror. She knew Logan was following her, but still she got a thrill every time she looked back and saw the headlights of his borrowed green Chevy truck.

Despite herself, she was entranced by the notion of the Last Chance Ranch. Until now, she hadn’t heard how it got its name, and the optimism of that concept fit right in with her philosophy.

She understood why Sarah would be interested in Peter Beckett’s idea. It blended perfectly with the ranch’s mission. Selfishly, Caro wanted Logan to be interested in it, too.

But he wasn’t, and he might never be. Once again she had to remind herself that she was welcoming him into her bed for the short term, and not because she thought he’d change his mind and stay forever. Josie had made it clear that Logan had always been very ambitious, and she predicted he’d eventually take a job in sports broadcasting because that was the kind of high-profile life he was used to.

Caro had listened carefully. Josie had known Logan ever since he was a neighbor kid in Chicago. The only person in Shoshone who would know Logan any better was Alex, and Alex was on his honeymoon and not due back for another week.

Still, Caro sensed there was more to Logan than pure ambition. He’d used ambition to get him to the big leagues, but that hadn’t lasted. Maybe now he was ready to hook up with something less glamorous yet more likely to give him satisfaction for the rest of his life.

Caro thought this project of Peter’s could be it, but she wasn’t going to say so and risk poisoning the well. It was a decision that would have to come from Logan in his own time. It might never come.

Privately, though, Caro had decided to offer her services to the project, assuming that the Chance brothers gave it their stamp of approval. Initially, she could make quilts for all the bunk beds. A colorful quilt on each bed, handmade with love, might be the welcome that some of those kids needed.

But if the program ever expanded to include girls, she could teach them to quilt. She’d be willing to teach the boys, too, but teenaged boys living in cowboy country and searching for their identity might not go for quilting lessons. They might have girlfriends or mothers who would like one, though.

In any case, Caro wanted to be part of the Last Chance legacy. She hadn’t appreciated that history before tonight. Up until now, the ranch had simply been the place where Josie lived now that she was married to Jack Chance. Sure, it was a landmark, but one that Caro had taken for granted the whole time she was growing up in Shoshone.

She approached the town limits and slowed down. It wasn’t much of a town, really—two intersecting roads with one stoplight. When she reached the light, it turned red, as it usually did whenever a single vehicle arrived at the intersection of the highway and Main Street, no matter which direction they were traveling.

The Spirits and Spurs sat across the intersection. A person turning right on Main would pass all the major businesses, including a bank, a post office, a feed store, a small grocery and an ice cream parlor.

Elmer Crookshanks’s gas station was across the intersection on the left. Last year Jack Chance had accused Elmer of rigging the light so that people had to stop and take notice of his gas station. Elmer had denied it, and the light continued to turn red more than seemed necessary, considering the lack of traffic.

It was a funky little town, and Caro loved it. Yes, she hoped to travel and see other places, but her heart would always be here. Now that she knew more about the Last Chance, she was even prouder of her little corner of the world.

Behind her, the Chevy’s engine rumbled. She imagined Logan sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting impatiently for the light to turn green so they could both cross the intersection. He might not know what he wanted out of life, but he knew what he wanted when it came to her, at least for the immediate future. Being desired with that kind of intensity was a thrill she’d never forget.

The light turned and she drove through the intersection,
with the Chevy right on her tail. She barely had time to park, pick up her hat from the seat and climb out of her truck before Logan was there, dragging her close. He must have left his hat in the truck, because he was no longer wearing it.

“That was the longest damned dinner and the longest damned drive and the longest damned red light.” He kissed her quick and hard. “I’m so pumped I could carry you up those stairs, bad knee or not.”

Heat sluiced through her veins. “But we have to go into the bar first.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Right. How could I forget? Got your keys? I’d rather not parade through the bar itself if we can go in through the back.”

“Right here.” She held them up.

“Then lead me to the condom machine.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her in the direction of the back door.

“If it doesn’t work, I’ll come in with you and see what I can do.”

“That won’t look right.”

“Judging from the empty parking lot, the bar’s not crowded right now, anyway. Nobody would notice.” As they reached the back door she quickly unlocked it and stepped into Josie’s office, which was also locked this time of night.

“But a guy should be able to obtain his own condoms.” Logan walked in behind her. “Hey, it’s dark in here.” He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her back against him. Beneath his jeans he was ready for action. “Maybe we don’t have to go upstairs, after all.”

She couldn’t resist nestling against him, but her words were as stern as she could manage, considering her level of excitement. “We’re not having sex in Josie’s office.”

He pulled back her hair and kissed the curve of her neck
while he cupped her breast through the cotton of her shirt. “Or on your kitchen table, either.”

“What?”

“Jack warned me it’s not as sturdy as it looks.” He raked his teeth gently over her skin as he fondled her breast. “I gather he and Josie found that out the hard way.”

Caro moaned and leaned against him as she imagined making love on whatever available surface presented itself. “This is madness. We have to stop so you can get the condoms.”

“I know.” He continued to massage her breasts. “But I love touching you. I haven’t been able to touch you for hours.”

“I love touching you, too.” She struggled for breath. “But… I’ll be able to do that so much more…efficiently…once we’re safely up in my apartment.”

“You’re so logical.” He gave her one last squeeze before releasing her with obvious reluctance. “And so right. Give me a minute before you open that office door. I need to focus on some baseball stats.”

She took a deep breath to compose herself. “I should go out and talk to Steve while you buy condoms. He might wonder what’s going on if you come through the door of Josie’s office all by yourself. Technically, you shouldn’t have a key.”