Wildflower (2 page)

Gene rubbed a crooked finger across his chin. “I ain’t gonna pussyfoot with you, Cartwright. Bingham says I ain’t got much time left.”

Genuine sorrow clutched Logan’s chest. “I’m mighty sorry to hear that, sir.”

A knobby hand swatted the air. “Didn’t bring you in here to listen to any balderdash. I got a proposition for you.”

Curiosity, mixed with dread, pricked his skin. “What kind of proposition?”

Gene propped himself higher on the bed. “Son, how’d you like to be the new owner of the Standing T?”

Shock rocked Logan back in his chair. “What kind of a question is that?”

“An honest one that needs an honest answer.”

“But what about Matt?”

“What about her?

“She’s your daughter. This ranch is her inheritance. You can’t give away what’s rightfully hers.”

“Bah!” The gnarled hand made another pass through the air. “You know same as me she can’t wait to be gone from here.”

The usual lurch hit Logan’s pulse at the thought of Matt leaving. But if leaving was what she wanted to do, he’d respected that decision. And her.

Instead, he concentrated on Gene’s offer. The ranch. Here was his chance to have a home for the first time in twenty years. While not the grandest spread or the biggest herd, a man could do worse. In spite of the joy coiling through him, doubt bristled the hairs on his neck. “You said this was a proposition. What do you want in return?”

Tired eyes looked away. “For you to marry Matt.”

Logan’s heart swung up into his throat and stayed there. “
What
? After just admitting she doesn’t want to stay in Indian Territory, you expect me to marry her?”

“I do. The ranch is her dowry.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Logan schooled his face. If he married Matt, he’d get the Standing T, but at what cost to her? He shifted. “Maybe I’m not interested in marrying her.”

One side of Gene’s mouth ticked up. “Son, you’re a lousy liar. I know you’ve been sweet on her since you rode through my ranch gates two years ago. Here’s your chance to have her.”

Logan bit harder on his cheek. Gene knew his true feelings for Matt. Didn’t that beat all? He stood and walked to the window. Pulling aside the drape, he squinted against the bright sunlight bouncing off the snow drifts.

He had indeed been smitten with Matt, almost from the moment he first laid eyes on her. With short, raven-colored hair and eyes the color of Kentucky clover in springtime, she was the prettiest gal he’d ever known, all filly-legged and curvy. His Levi’s grew tight just thinking about her.

Hell’s fire.

It wasn’t just her looks that enticed him, though. She was tough as rail spikes wrapped in rawhide, able to match any man on the ranch. Yet delicate. Like a dainty wildflower petal.

But she wanted to live in a city. Almost as badly as he wanted never to set foot in one again. He craved the open space and clean air of the frontier. After growing up in an orphanage in Philadelphia, he’d had his fill of smelly, cramped cities. As much as he wanted Matt, and the ranch, he vowed he’d never again live in a place where so many people were packed together. Neither would he force her to stay where he knew she’d never be happy.

The drape fell back into place as he turned. “I thought you were letting Matt leave for Kansas City after the cattle drive.”

Gene wheezed a breath. “That’s what she thought, too.”

Foreboding shrouded his shoulders. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying she ain’t
goin
’
nowhere
.”

“Going to Kansas City is all she’s ever talked about. It’s her dream.”

“Well, she can’t be traipsing all over Creation if I’m not around,” Gene retorted on a panting gasp. “She needs to stay put where it’s safe. Now, you gonna marry her or not?”

Logan widened his stance and crossed his arms with a firm shake of his head. “No. I won’t rob Matt of her dream.”

Gene sagged for a moment then straightened. “Fine. I’ll be asking Roscoe Turner next.”

Logan’s arms fell to his side as his jaw slackened. “You intend to make this same offer to Roscoe Turner?”

“I do.”

Glaring at the bed-ridden man, he took a step. “Matt is your
daughter
. Not some prize at a damn turkey shoot.”

Gene’s chest puffed out. “I’m doing this for her own good. ‘Sides, Roscoe’s been my foreman for going on five years now. He’s a good cattle man.”

But he wasn’t a good man. Logan still remembered the only time he’d gone to town on a Saturday night with the foreman. Roscoe had gotten so ugly drunk, he beat a saloon girl half to death. It had taken Logan and three others to haul the bastard off. The thought of Roscoe laying one finger on Matt….

He inhaled a slow breath to ease the anger tightening his skin. There had to be a way to reason with Gene. “She won’t agree to marry me or Roscoe.”

“She’ll do as she’s told.”

“So she doesn’t get a choice?” Fury clenched Logan’s hands even as his cock thickened.

Hell’s fire and brimstone!

“No, she don’t.” Gene pulled in a winded breath. “A woman needs a home. A place where she’s cared for and protected.”

“And you think I’ll care for Matt and protect her?”

“You or Roscoe.” A sudden weariness laced the rancher’s voice. “I’d prefer you.”

“Why me? There are others who’ve worked for you longer.”

“True, but you’re like me, Cartwright. Hard. It takes a hard man to carve out a living on the prairie. Yet
a softness
comes over you when you look at Matt. I’m trusting you to take care of her.”

“She still might leave, even if I marry her.”

“Yeah, she might. But she’d have a home to come back to.”

That sobered Logan. “The Standing T will always be her home,” he declared. “I wouldn’t keep what’s rightfully hers.”

“Unless she marries, she’ll never come back. That what you want? She’s too prideful by half and she’d rather die than ask for help. The only way I know to keep my little girl safe—” Gene ducked his head and swiped a finger under his nose. An ache spread through Logan’s chest as he waited for him to collect himself.

Finally, Gene cleared his throat and looked up, his jaw set with determination. “All my softness died with her mother. I never did right by Matt, but I did the best I could. The only way to keep my little girl safe after I’m gone is for her to wed. Will you be the man she marries?”

After a pause, Logan strode to the bed, his decision made. He gripped a gaunt shoulder. “Get some rest, old man.”

~
~
~

Matt pounced on Logan the instant her father’s door was closed. “What’d he say?”

The soft silver of his eyes had been replaced with a stony gray. An army of fire ants marched up her arms at the intensity in his gaze. He grabbed his coat and shrugged it on. She stomped her foot. “Well?”

He opened the front door. “I’m heading to the herd. Be there a couple of days covering your shift and my own. We’ll talk when I get back.”

He stopped in the open doorway to stare at her. Even with the cold wind blowing into the room, heat spiraled through her. It started between her legs, raced through her belly, then into her chest and higher still, warming her cheeks.

Without another word, he left. The soft click of the door snapped Matt from her trance. He’d never answered her question. Huffing, she veered her gaze to Pa’s bedroom. Fine. More than one way to skin a rabbit. She marched to his door, took a fortifying breath then slipped inside.

Several moments passed before her eyes adjusted to the darkened interior. Bulky drapes, which kept the midday sun at bay, increased the rank smell of sickness in the room. She battled not to choke.

At first, it appeared Pa was sleeping. His wrinkled face, framed by thinning, white hair, almost disappeared within the folds of the feather pillow. With his eyes closed and gnarled fingers holding the tattered bed quilt, he reminded her of a Lilliputian from
Gulliver’s Travels
.

The worry she’d felt over his health for the past two weeks weakened her knees and pressed tears to her eyes. With a sniff, she shifted her weight and her boot thudded softly against the floor. Pa’s eyes popped open. Blue eyes, still hawkish despite his illness, appraised her in the yawning silence. She tamped down the need to squirm.

He hoisted himself to a sitting position, the bed ropes creaking in protest. “Don’t just stand there. Come closer.”

When had his voice become more threadbare than the quilt in his hands? She took a step. “What’d you talk to Logan about?”

He sucked in a wheezing gasp of air. “Never
you mind
that. There’s something I need you to do, girl.”

Trepidation squeezed her throat. She swallowed hard. “What’s that?”

He looked at her then, in that unwavering way of his. She kept her back rigid, prepared for whatever he was about to say. She knew she wasn’t going to like it.

“I need you to marry Logan Cartwright.”

Her knees went from weak to watery. She stumbled and gripped the edge of the dresser to keep from falling. “What?”

His expression stayed hard. “You heard me. I need for you to marry Cartwright.”

The fever had to be making her father delirious. It was the only answer. Never in her wildest dreams could she have anticipated this. He wanted her to marry Logan? Prickly raindrops coated her stomach. “But I’m going to Kansas City after the drive in June. You said I could, remember?”

His gaze flicked away, his shoulders slumping slightly. He looked very old and very tired. “I remember.”

“Then I can’t marry Logan.”

The normal severity blanketed his features in a flash. It was like she’d imagine the brief show of weakness. “You’ll do as you’re told, girl.”

“No.” The word burst off her tongue before she could stop it.

His eyebrows shot up before bowing together in a vicious glare. “What’d you say?”

Her face flushed. Never before had she disobeyed her father. Determination notched up her chin. Now seemed as a good time as any to start. “I won’t marry Logan Cartwright and you can’t force me. I’m nineteen and can decide for myself what I want to do. And I want to go to Kansas City.”

“How you reckon to get there?”

Her posture wilted a bit. “I’ll manage.” She wished she sounded more confident.

“Why are you being so cussed stubborn, girl?” He wheezed harder with each word. “Why can you just do as you’re told?
Logan’ll
take care of you.”

She scoffed. “Since when do I need to be taken care of?”

“Since I’m gonna die,” he rifled back.

The statement slammed into her. All the air left her lungs in a strangled gasp. “Truly?”

He pulled in a rattling breath, his shoulders sagging again. “Truly.”

She ducked her head and stared at the floorboards, fighting the unexpected rush of tears in her eyes.

Her father, dying? How was that possible? Her father was invincible, able to do anything. He couldn’t die.

“How—” She coughed the sob from her throat. “How long?”