Calder Pride (Calder Saga 5)

“It doesn’t matter.” She threw him a quick smile, her tension showing.

“Things aren’t working out between you and Logan, are they?”

“Everything’s fine.”

Culley grunted his doubt. “I could tell you liked kissing him that time. I thought he was safe enough for you.”

The plate slipped from her fingers and splashed into the rinse water. “When did you see me kissing him?”

“That night at The Homestead after those cattle were found dead.”

That seemed like a lifetime ago. “You shouldn’t be spying on people, Uncle Culley.” Cat rescued the plate and jammed it in the rack.

He responded with a small, negligent movement of his shoulders. “I guess I thought Logan was like the Taylor boy.”

“How can you say that? I loved Repp.” In quick order, she washed the last two plates and started on the silverware.

“You sure were sweet on him,” Culley agreed, then paused in his wiping and stared thoughtfully into the middle distance. “I don’t know, I guess I’m comparing you to Maggie again. When she cared for somebody she did it with her whole heart. There was no holding back with her, even when she knew she’d get hurt. Calder hurt her more than once.”

He eyed her astutely. “You weren’t that way with Repp, or you never would have let him keep putting you off when you wanted to get married. And you gotta admit he wasn’t all that eager about it, either. It kinda makes you think that he might have been awed by the idea of marrying a Calder—maybe even worried that you’d find out he couldn’t measure up.”

Why had Repp dragged his feet about marrying her? And why had she been so quick to believe that he was trying to do what was noble and honorable? Had she argued that strongly against waiting? Or had she simply gone through the motions of objecting?

Cat couldn’t remember. The memories were all too fuzzy now, blurred vignettes of horseback rides, slow dancing, and passionate kisses. But she couldn’t recall the intensity of the hunger or the heat, not with the sharp, disturbing clarity that etched every detail of the night she spent with Logan.

Which meant absolutely nothing.

“I loved Repp,” Cat repeated with force.

Culley nodded in a show of approval. “You hang on to that. It’s a kind of protection that’ll keep you from letting yourself care about anyone else.”

“I don’t do that.” But the denial came too late. Doubt had already set in.

TWENTY-THREE

Always a light sleeper, Logan couldn’t have said what initially woke him. Eyes open, he remained on his side, fully alert and listening.

There was a whisper of movement in the hallway, the faintest rustle of cotton brushing cotton. His bedroom door was open a crack, letting in a sliver of light from the hallway. A small shadow blocked the lower part of it. Then the door inched open a little more. Quint slipped through and stood, staring at the bed.

Logan made a show of waking up and levered himself onto an elbow. “Quint. Having trouble sleeping?”

“You don’t snore.” He walked to the bed. “I been listening.”

“You have?” Logan hid a smile.

“Uh-huh. Do you think I should tell Mom?”

> “I don’t think so.” He glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. Its green numbers read 1:16. “It’s after one in the morning. I’m sure she’s sleeping, which is what you should be doing.”

“I know.” Quint nodded and heaved a big sigh.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Kinda.”

Smiling, Logan pulled the covers aside. “Why don’t you hop in bed with me for a while. Then when you get really tired, I’ll take you back to your own bed.”

“Okay.” He climbed into bed and stretched out facing Logan, a hand propping his head up. “You aren’t wearing pajamas. Don’t you have any?”