Logan's Outlaw (28 page)

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Authors: Elaine Levine

BOOK: Logan's Outlaw
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Chapter 20
A half hour from the Circle Bar, Logan began to sway in his saddle. His eyes were swollen shut, he could no longer direct his horse, instead depending on his mount to follow the others in the group. His head was throbbing, the pain and movement making him nauseous. He couldn't even grind his teeth, because that sent more pain shearing through his skull. All he could do was breathe, but even that hurt—his cracked rib felt as if a steel trap had clamped down on his side.
Sager and Declan flanked him closely. He forced himself to straighten again. “Logan, give me your reins,” Sager ordered. “Declan, put Sarah up there behind him.”
“Bad idea, Sager,” Logan growled as they came to a stop. “If I fall backward, I will crush her, and we'll still both fall off the horse.”
“Don't bet on it, Logan. I'm stronger than you think,” Sarah said, gripping fistfuls of Logan's leggings. “Lean back against me.”
“You're as big as a minute, woman. Not even that, maybe just a half minute.” He felt her nod against his shoulder toward Sager. They moved into a trot. Logan cursed and took hold of Sarah's hands, holding her to him even as he leaned back against her.
At the house, people erupted from the front door, including Sid, a beautiful blond woman, and several young boys, their voices raised in a cacophony of excitement. Sarah felt Logan stiffen. His tension slipped into her. She couldn't help staring at the woman who had to be Rachel. The woman who'd rejected Logan. She felt an unwelcome wash of jealousy slip through her. Did he still have feelings for her?
Rachel smiled at her. Sarah nodded in response to the tentative greeting. She'd never been jealous a minute in her life and didn't like the feel of it now.
Sager dismounted, catching Rachel as she launched herself at him. He knelt and hugged each of the three boys, his sons, Sarah realized. He looked at Sid. “Why are you here? I wanted you to wait at Old Jack's.”
“Your wife wanted us here so that we could help when you got back. Maybe you haven't noticed, but when she gets the bit between her teeth, there ain't much a person can do. Boys, stand aside, let your dad and the sheriff get Uncle Logan down.” He waved the children back.
Sager helped Sarah down; then he and Declan got Logan off. Declan took his head, Sager his feet, and they carried him up the front porch.
“God Almighty, Logan. What happened, son?” Sid whispered.
Logan tried to smile but wasn't sure the gesture made it to his lips. “It's a long story.”
“And it starts with a woman,” Declan scoffed.
“Of course,” Sager added, giving Sarah a quick wink.
“Don't pay them any heed, Sarah,” Rachel said, taking her arm. “They'll only be worse if they think they can get to you.”
“Rachel?” Logan held up a hand.
She took it quickly, pressing a quick kiss on his scraped and bruised knuckles. “Hi, Logan. We thought you'd never come home again.”
“Honey, think you could scold him when we get him to his room?” Sager asked. “He ain't exactly a lightweight.”
Sarah pulled free of Rachel's hand and hurried down the hallway to turn down the covers on the bed in Logan's room. She settled the pillows behind Logan. When she straightened, the room was filled with people. His father, Rachel, Sager, the sheriff, a couple of the ranch hands, the housekeeper, and three boys jostling for position in front of the adults. All of them wore faces filled with love, worry, and fatigue. These weren't people who hated Logan. Not a one of them. Why had he left them?
“Out. All of you. Out. He needs to rest,” she insisted.
Sager grinned at Sarah. “Looks like you got yourself a little she-bear after all, brother.” He went over to her and pulled her into a hug. “I told you he'd live to tell.” He kissed her forehead, then took Rachel's hand and headed for the door.
“Shout if you need anything, Sarah,” Rachel called as Sager pulled her from the room. “I'll bring bandages and a medical kit.”
The room fell silent. She listened to the noise grow distant down the hallway.
“Sarah, honey, you still here?”
“Yes.”
“Come over here.”
She sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes were swollen shut; red vied with black, blue, and purple for the primary color of his face. She choked back a sob.
“That good, huh? This is nothing, sweetheart. Well, it's a little worse than usual—”
“Logan Taggert, don't you dare tell me you're often in fights. I won't have it. I just won't.”
He lifted a hand to her cheek. “I want to get something straight right now, honey. You're my wife, Sarah Taggert.” He must have felt her brace for an argument, for his thumb quickly covered her lips. “We were married in the way of the Great Spirit and before God. I have grave doubts about your first marriage's validity. We know Hawkins used several aliases. There might have been several other women he married and cheated just like you. In a couple of weeks, when I'm allowed to get up and about, we'll redo our vows, here, in front of friends and family. Until then, you are my wife. You will sleep here in my room, in this bed, with me.”
“What about your family? What will they think?”
He pulled her onto the bed, into the crook of his arm, against his side. “Sager has already accepted you. Rachel will be happy to have another female so nearby. And Sid will love you because I do. They are your family now.” Logan threaded his fingers through hers. “What is it, honey? You're wound tight enough to break.”
Sarah sighed. This was not the time to be fretting about her petty worries.
“Out with it.”
“Do you still have feelings for Rachel?”
“I do. Very strong feelings.” She started to pull away, but his arm tightened around her. “They are exactly the same type of feelings I have for Sager or Sid. Hell, even Rachel's dad, Old Jack. They're family. I would give my life for any of them, as they would for me or you.” He kissed the top of Sarah's head. “But I am not in love with her. I never was. I love you. And only you.” He nuzzled her forehead. “It's kinda fun having you jealous. Tell me about it again.”
“Logan Taggert!” She pushed herself up so that she could lean over and kiss him, ever so gently, on the mouth. He pulled her up against him and used a knee to spread her legs over him.
“Honey, there's only one part of me that doesn't hurt right now.” He ground her hips over his erection, which had begun to rise ever since he knew he was alone with her.
“You can't want that now! You're injured. You need rest.”
“It is exactly what I want. Right now.” She pulled him free of his breechclout and lowered herself over him. He let out a long, low groan. “Yes.” She was slick and tight. Magnificent. “I fought for you. I killed your devils, Sarah. I won you. I'm keeping you. God, I love you.”
He slipped a hand up her thigh, moving his thumb to her mound, lower to the sensitive spot above her entrance. He worked his thumb in a slow, circular motion. Heat filled Sarah, radiating from her hips outward. She took most of her weight on her knees, careful to jostle Logan as little as possible. She reached back and fingered his sac, gently massaging as she pulled herself up and slipped back down the hard length of him.
Logan cursed. “Sarah! Sarah, now! Please. Now!” He slammed his hips up, seating himself to the balls. He felt her inner muscles contract, grabbing and releasing. He thrust against those spasms, pounded into her. The orgasm ripping through her took him along with it. She braced her weight on her knees until the last little aftershocks rippled through them. He pulled her down for his kiss, hooking a hand around the back of her neck. “Don't ever leave me.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled against his mouth. “I never could, Logan. I don't know where I end and you begin. You're my everything.” She pulled free of his hold, disengaging their bodies. Logan sucked in a breath at the loss of her body.
“And that, Mr. Taggert, is the last loving you're going to get until you're better.”
“The hell it is.”
“I'm going to give you a sponge bath, then I'll see what food there might be in the kitchen.” She untied his moccasins and pulled them off, then set to work on the strap holding his leggings and breechclout up.
“I don't need a sponge bath. My legs aren't broken. There's a perfectly good tub in the other room.” He stood up, wincing at the pain from his sore rib. She slipped the leathers off his hips and down his legs so that he could step out of them. When she straightened, he cupped her cheeks. His eyes were still closed, but he felt the rigid tightening of her jaw. He was hard again and he knew she'd seen him. He grinned at her. “Maybe you should take a bath with me.”
“No. Sit here for a minute while I draw the water.” She helped him to the edge of the bed.
“You're a bossy little thing.”
“Yes I am, Mr. Taggert.”
 
Sarah stood at the kitchen doorway. Logan's family was seated around the table. She felt like such an outsider. If Logan didn't need bandages and something to eat, she would have turned and run. Sager saw her first. He stood up and motioned her forward. “Come in, Sarah.”
Sid and Declan stood as she settled herself. Rachel patted a seat next to her. “How is he?” she asked.
“Sleeping now, but getting grumpier by the minute.” Sarah looked at Logan's father. “Mr. Taggert, has a doctor been summoned?”
“Yep, as soon as you got here. And I'm ‘Sid' or ‘Dad,' Sarah—anything but ‘Mr. Taggert.'”
Rachel squeezed her hand. “You must be starving.” She started to rise, but Maria, the housekeeper, was already bringing a bowl of soup over.
“You sit, Miss Rachel. I have Miss Sarah's food right here.”
Sarah pushed her bowl away. “I should feed Logan first.”
“Eat,” Sid ordered. “You look ready to drop. You've been through one hell of an ordeal yourself. You'll be no good to Logan if you're not well yourself.”
Maria brought two more bowls of soup over for the sheriff and Sager, following that with a platter of sandwiches. Rachel retrieved the coffeepot from the stove and filled coffee cups.
She set the pot back, then settled in her seat with a great sigh as she looked at Sarah. “I, for one, am dying to hear everything! Logan keeps so much to himself, I worried he'd be alone the rest of his life. And here you've brought him home to us, Sarah. You're a miracle worker.”
Sarah looked at the faces of Logan's family. Her family, he'd said. “We met at Fort Buford. He'd come in to change mounts and ended up riding in the stagecoach instead,” she began, giving Rachel a quick smile. Rachel smiled back.
Home. She was home. It felt good. It felt wonderful. Over the next hour, through two bowls of soup, Sarah related the whole story.
Sid sat at the head of the table, white-faced and drawn. “I can't imagine the peril you two were in.”
“He was never afraid,” Sarah told him. “Never once. It helped me to see the Sioux as he does. He trades with many villages each year. He is well known among the different tribes.” She looked at Rachel. “He bought some beautiful pieces of bead and leatherwork. When he wakes, you should come select something for yourself. I know he'd like you to have a gift.”
“I'd like that.” Rachel smiled.
The sheriff leaned back in his seat. “I heard Hawkins admit that the wanted poster we found for you was itself a forgery. He never did sign that confession, but I'll get the word out around here and make sure those posters are taken down.”
“Thank you, Sheriff,” Sarah said.
 
 
A week later, Logan was up and about. The doctor had been to see him a couple of times. The swelling was receding around his nose and eyes. The doctor said his broken nose would heal cleanly, thanks to Sager's setting it so efficiently. Logan was getting edgy to complete his tour of his posts. He'd just finished grooming his and Sarah's horses, his first physical activity in days. The doctor had said no riding for another couple of weeks, but Logan was thinking of breaking that edict.
“Logan!” Sid stepped out to the porch and hollered for him.
Wagons had been coming and going with increasing frequency as the household prepared for the wedding. Invitations had been sent out, supplies were arriving every day.
The dining room had been turned into a milliner's shop. Yards of fabric were bunched and piled throughout the room and half a dozen women, including Sarah, Rachel, and her friends Leah and Audrey, were gathered there, sewing a trousseau for Sarah. Audrey had brought a sewing machine and all of her children with her. Her oldest two girls sat in the dining room stitching away. His nephews and Leah and Audrey's children ran like hellions around the ranch, thrilled to have each other's company.

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