Chapter Three

Logan drove back toward the department, the rumble of the engine and calls over the radio were the only sounds. Just as he was about to turn onto the main road, a call came over the radio, breaking the peaceful silence. There had been a report of a break-in at a nearby house and he was close by. Without hesitation, he grabbed the mic and responded that he would handle it.

Pulling up to the address, Logan could see a car parked in the driveway. The only light was from the porchlight. As he walked toward the house, he saw Dixie step out of the car and braced himself for her trademark sass.

"Of course it would be her," he muttered under his breath as he approached her.

"Can't they send someone else besides you?" she snapped, clearly not happy to see him.

"Just fucking deal with it, Dixie. What happened?"

"Some asshole broke into my house. Isn't that why you're here?" she retorted.

Logan clenched his jaw. "Don't give me an attitude. I know you hate me—"

"You have no idea," she mumbled under her breath.

"But I'm just doing my job. Is the door unlocked?" he asked, trying to keep his tone professional.

"It was, but it's been kicked in," Dixie replied.

"Did you enter the house?"

"No. When I noticed the door open, I got back into my car, called nine-one-one and locked the doors."

"Alright, stay here. I'll check out the house." With that, Logan pulled his weapon, and flashlight, turned toward the front door of her house, ready to assess the damage and catch whoever had done this. He held the gun and light out in front of him and stepped onto the porch. At the door, he called out.

"Sheriff's department, if anyone is in here, you need to come out with your hands up, or I'm coming in." When there was no response, he entered the house.

****

Dixie grumbled to herself, her voice shaking with a mixture of agony and fury as she wrapped her coat tighter around her. It was the middle of October, and the cold air stung her skin. As she watched him vanish into the house, it felt like a knife twisting in her heart. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. His betrayal had destroyed her love for him, leaving behind a fiery anger that consumed her. She glanced through the windows and could see the faint beam of his flashlight, praying that no one was inside waiting for him. Despite everything, she didn't want to see him get hurt.

After what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the house and strode toward her. "It's clear, but whoever it was left the place in a mess," he informed her. Logan crossed his arms and looked at her suspiciously. "Who did you piss off now, Dixie?"

"No one. Quit being an ass," she snapped back.

He huffed in frustration. "Well, someone made a deliberate mess here. Do you keep cash in there?"

"No," she answered firmly.

"Is this where you've been living since your father was arrested?" he asked.

"You mean, since you arrested him?" Dixie retorted bitterly.

"Give it a fucking rest. I was just doing my job," Logan growled. "You need to move past the fact that I was the one who arrested your father," he shouted back at her. "He was guilty!"

Dixie glared at him, her voice shaking with emotion. "You think that's what I can't move past? What I can't move past is how you used me to get to my father. I loved you, Logan, and all you did was manipulate me."

"I loved you too—"

"Bull. Shit. Bull fucking shit! " she yelled, her voice rising in fury. "You don't use someone you claim to love like that. I'll never forgive you for playing with my feelings as if they were nothing to you. Oh, wait. They were nothing to you!" She turned and tried to storm away, but his hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

She looked down at his fingers gripping her arm, feeling trapped and overwhelmed by emotions. Finally, she met his gaze and saw the turmoil in his eyes. "Take your fucking hand off me." With a defiant tug, she wrenched herself free from his hold and stormed onto the porch.

His voice stopped her before she could disappear inside. "Do not go inside. Someone will be out to take fingerprints, and you should probably stay somewhere else tonight. You have a good night... ma'am ." His words were laced with bitterness and disdain as he touched the brim of his hat, climbed into his SUV, and waited for backup. Once it arrived, Logan backed out of the driveway, leaving behind a cloud of swirling gravel in his wake.

A few days later, Dixie decided to visit Clint while Logan was working. She entered the house, hung up her coat, then walked along the hallway to Clint's bedroom. She was glad that Logan wasn't here, but she knew he would be soon, so she wanted to get in and out before he got home.

Pushing the bedroom door open, she stuck her head in, and saw Clint watching TV from his bed, and a nurse sat in a chair reading from a book. Clint spotted her and grinned.

"Hey, there, Dixie. Come on in, sweetheart."

Dixie smiled as she entered the room and sat in the chair beside the bed. She smiled at the nurse as she sat down.

"Hi, Clint. How are you doing?"

"I'm good today. What brings you by? Logan's not here."

"I know he isn't, that's why I came by now."

"You two have got to be the most stubborn people on the planet."

"We're fine as long as we stay away from each other." Dixie touched his hand. "Do you need anything?"

"No, thanks, honey. I'm fine." He grinned at her and her heart broke. This man was so sweet, and she loved him. From the minute she met him, he treated her with nothing but kindness. She quickly blinked back tears, but one slid down her cheek.

"Hey, no tears, sweetheart," Clint said softly as he reached out to wipe away the tears rolling down Dixie's cheeks.

She turned to look behind her at the sound of a noise, seeing Logan standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. His cheeks were flushed from the cold, and he gazed at his father before turning and leaving the room, defeated with slumped shoulders.

Clint gently took Dixie's hand and squeezed it, so she had to meet his gaze. "He still loves you; you know. He always will."

Dixie shook her head, tears continuing to fall. "He never loved me—"

"That's where you're wrong, Dixie," Clint interrupted, a note of frustration in his voice. "He fell hard for you. It about killed him trying to hide everything from you. If you could have seen him after he arrested your father…" He shook his head sadly. "He knew he'd lost you."

"He lied to me, Clint," Dixie whispered brokenly.

"Not about everything," Clint replied firmly. "He never lied when he told you he loved you." Taking a deep breath, he continued. "Did you know that he requested another agent take his place right after he met you? He knew he was way too attracted to continue with the case, but it was too late by then. He never meant to intentionally hurt you, Dixie. He was doing his job and as much as it pained him to do it, he didn't have a choice. You have to see that. You two belong together." He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to speak. "You have to move past it. You might not believe it, but he does love you. I can see it in how he looks at you, and you feel the same about him." He shook his head again. "At least think about it. You'll both be miserable for the rest of your lives if you stay apart." His eyes were pleading as he finished. "Now, I'm tired and I want to rest a little. Come see me again, honey."

Dixie stood and wiped the tears from her cheeks, leaning down to kiss the top of Clint's head before walking out of the room. She closed the door quietly behind her and walked to the living room, heartbroken at the thought of what Logan was going through.

He was standing by the window, his back to her as he gazed out at the night sky. She approached him slowly, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his back. She felt him stiffen up, then take a deep breath, and placed his hands over hers, silently taking any comfort she offered. They stood like that for a long moment, neither one speaking but finding solace in each other's presence.

With a deep sigh, Logan finally turned to face her. He strode around her, his steps slow and heavy. "I have to get out of here for a while," he murmured, his voice strained. "I won't be long, so if you want to leave, you can. The nurse is here."

Dixie's heart ached as she watched him. She knew he was struggling with the impending loss of his father, and it tore at her heart. She couldn't imagine how difficult this must be for him.

"Where are you going?" she asked softly.

Logan turned to face her, his dark blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. His strong jaw was clenched, and she could see the turmoil raging inside him. "For a ride," he said simply, his voice trembling with emotion. "I can't..." His words trailed off as he shook his head, unable to finish the sentence.

Dixie watched as Logan put on his worn cowboy hat and pulled on his thick coat before opening the door and stepping out into the frigid air. She peered out the small window, following him with her gaze as he strode purposefully toward the dark barn, disappearing into its shadows.

A few minutes later, she saw lights flicker on within the barn and then watched as Logan rode out on his horse, spurring it into a gallop across the open field. The horse's powerful muscles rippled under its glossy coat as they moved in perfect synchronization. Dixie couldn't help but admire the way Logan handled his horse, the ease and grace of their movements together despite the weight of his emotions.

As she watched him disappear into the snow-covered landscape, tears welled up in Dixie's eyes. She couldn't imagine what would happen when Clint passed away. Would Logan stay in Clifton? Or would he leave, unable to bear the pain of losing someone who meant so much to him?

The thought brought a sharp pang to her heart. No matter what had happened between them, she still loved Logan deeply. But his lies had torn them apart and it would be best if she remembered that. She was in love with a man she hated, and that's how it had to be.

She couldn't help but wonder if Clint was right about moving on from Logan's betrayal. After all, he had been working undercover and had no choice but to use her to get to her father. But did he truly fall in love with her?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the flutter of snow outside the window. She prayed that Logan would be safe if the weather got worse. Pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the door, she let out a quiet sob for both the man she loved and the man he loved. Despite how much she would miss Clint, it paled in comparison to the pain it would cause Logan when he was gone.

****

Logan eased his horse to a stop, the sound of hooves muffled by the mud and dusting of snow that covered the ground. The rustic fishing cabin, tucked away on his father's property, stood before him like a beacon of comfort and solace. He dismounted and secured the reins around a nearby post, taking in a deep breath of crisp fall air before entering the dark building.

Flicking on the table lamp beside the door, Logan was greeted by a warm glow that illuminated the small room. He removed his hat and coat, and his boots creaked against the well-worn wooden floors as he made his way to the worn sofa and sank into its familiar cushions.

His gaze wandered over the walls adorned with photographs, each one capturing a different moment shared between him and his father. Memories flooded through Logan's mind, each one a precious treasure. This cabin had been their sacred place, where they had bonded over fishing at the nearby pond and hunting in the surrounding woods. Despite being away for two years, Logan had made it a priority to visit his dad as often as possible. Even with his avoidance of going into town to dodge encounters with Dixie, he never missed an opportunity to spend time with his father, especially after Clint's diagnosis of pancreatic cancer.

Standing, Logan walked to the photos. As his fingers traced over a photo of one of him as a young boy proudly displaying a massive bass while his beaming father stood by his side, tears welled up in his eyes. He smiled sadly as he remembered his dad swearing as he tried to set the camera to take a photo. It took him three times.

Logan then moved to another photo depicting himself as a toddler cradled in his mother's arms with Clint's protective arm around them both. Logan knew how much his father missed her; she had passed away when he was too young to remember her, leaving only photographs as glimpses into her life.

With a heavy heart, Logan returned to the sofa, sat, and closed his eyes, allowing tears to trickle down his cheeks. How would he ever cope without his father by his side? After a few moments of silent reflection, Logan stood and made his way toward the door. He glanced around the room before leaving, wondering if he would ever come back here again. It wouldn't be the same without his dad there with him.

This cabin held countless memories for them, ones that no one else had shared. Even during his time with Dixie, Logan had never brought her here. This was a special place, just for him and his father. For a moment, he entertained the thought of tearing it down after his father's passing, but quickly dismissed it. Too many cherished moments were tied to this place.

With a deep breath, Logan pulled on his coat and hat, opened the door, turned off the light, and stepped out onto the porch, only to be met with flurries of snow swirling in the air. "Damn," he muttered under his breath as he jogged down the steps and untied his horse. The wind whipped at his face as he mounted up and urged the horse into a run toward home.

The frigid air stung against Logan's skin as he raced through the countryside toward the warmth and comfort of home. As he rode into the barnyard, he noticed that Dixie's SUV was gone. She must have left for work. He silently hoped that the snow wouldn't amount to much; the last thing he wanted was to be called in to help with accidents on the roads.

After tending to his horse, gently brushing its coat and making sure it had enough food and water, Logan walked out of the barn and made his way across the yard toward the house. He wiped his boots on the welcome mat. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped into the cozy kitchen.

Hanging up his hat and coat, Logan headed to his father's room. Quietly pushing the door open, he saw that his father was peacefully asleep, the nurse sitting by his side and reading a book. With careful steps, Logan approached the bed and pulled up a chair, sinking into it with a sigh. Stretching out his legs in front of him, he clasped his hands over his stomach and closed his eyes, letting out all the tension and exhaustion built up in his body.

But just as he started to drift off, a sudden noise roused him from his sleep. He opened his eyes to find the nurse taking his father's vitals. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Logan stood up and stretched his arms above his head before settling back down in the chair. His gaze shifted to his father, who was watching the nurse with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Unable to resist joining in on their playful banter, Logan couldn't help but tease him.

"Dad? You must be feeling better if you're flirting with such a pretty lady," he joked, earning a blush from the nurse .

Clint chuckled. "I never feel too bad for that."

Logan grinned. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, son. I'm fine." Clint paused for a moment before adding with a twinkle in his eye, "Just a little tired from all the flirting." Logan laughed. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"No, sir," Logan replied.

"Well then, go grab yourself something to eat. You need to keep your strength up."

"I will after I take a shower. Since the nurse is here, I'll do that first and then come back. You behave yourself." Logan smiled playfully at his father.

"Where's the fun in that?" Clint joked, earning another laugh from the nurse.

Logan turned to her and apologized. "Sorry about my dad."

"No need to apologize. I've been dealing with his flirting for a while now. He's just a big teddy bear."

"I don't think any man wants to be called a teddy bear," Clint protested good-naturedly.

The nurse laughed. "It's true, you are one and we all know it."

"Well, I'll be back in a few minutes, Dad." Logan glanced at the nurse. "I won't be too long."

"That's fine," she said with a smile.

"Don't rush on my account. I'm wide awake now so I'll watch a movie." Clint winked at his son.

"Wait for me. We can watch something together." Logan left the room and headed upstairs to his bedroom where he quickly showered and changed into comfortable sweatpants and a T-shirt before heading back downstairs. His father's bedroom used to be down the hall, but when he became too weak to navigate the stairs, Logan moved his bed and belongings to the den next to the kitchen. He didn't want to risk his father falling or being too far away if he needed help.

He settled into a chair in his dad's room and watched as Clint flipped through channels on the TV, searching for something to watch. Logan let out a sigh and his dad noticed.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you please just pick something? You act like we have all night." Logan grinned at the nurse who blushed again.

"Fine. You pick then," Clint said, handing over the remote.

Logan sat up and began flipping through channels, chuckling when he heard his dad huff in frustration.

"Now you know how I feel."

"Just find something."

"Yes, sir. How about an old western? Rio Bravo with John Wayne is on."

"That sounds good. I love me some John Wayne movies."

"I know you do. I think I got my love for them from you."

"I did teach you some good things." Clint grinned proudly.

"Everything you taught me was good, Dad." Logan touched his father's hand tenderly.

"Go get something to eat first, then we'll watch John kick some ass." Clint chuckled.

"Sounds good. I'll just make a sandwich." Logan nodded at the nurse as he walked from the room, feeling grateful for this simple moment of bonding and laughter with his father.

After hastily preparing his sandwich, he settled back into the chair. As he took a bite, a satisfied groan escaped his lips.

"I didn't realize how hungry I was," he commented to the nurse who had returned to her seat.

"Are you married?" Clint suddenly asked the nurse, causing Logan to pause with his sandwich halfway to his mouth. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was headed.

"No, sir," she answered with a sweet smile.

Clint grinned. "My son is single too."

Logan couldn't help but suppress a chuckle, knowing the look on the nurse's face mirrored his own.

"Dad—"

"What? I'm just sayin'," Clint defended himself with a laugh.

"Just say something else," Logan pleaded with an amused shake of his head.

"Fine, fine. Let's watch the movie," Clint relented with a smile as he settled back against his pillows.

As they watched the movie, Logan finished his sandwich and sat back in the chair. The nurse sat in another nearby chair, engrossed in a book. Glancing over at his dad, Logan noticed that he had dozed off only fifteen minutes into the movie.

Feeling restless, Logan got to his feet and gazed down at his father as he peacefully slept. Despite trying to prepare himself for his eventual loss, Logan knew it would hit him hard when his father passed away. It was something he couldn't fully grasp or accept yet.

"I think I'll head out now if that's alright with you," the nurse spoke up, breaking Logan from his thoughts.

"Yes, ma'am. Please drive safely," he replied politely.

"I will. I'll see you both tomorrow," she said before making her way out of the room.

Before leaving, she stopped by Logan and placed a hand on his arm. "Make sure to get some rest. You look like you're about to fall over."

Logan couldn't help but smirk in agreement. "I feel like it."

"You need it just as much as he does. Goodnight," she bid him farewell with a warm smile.

"Goodnight. Thank you," Logan said sincerely.

As the door closed behind her, Logan couldn't help but admire the nurse's beauty. However, his heart belonged to a certain redhead and always would.

Friday evening, Logan was making his way back to the station, the engine filling his ears as he navigated the winding roads. Suddenly, a car careened toward him from the opposite lane, crossing the center line in a dangerous maneuver. Reacting quickly, Logan swerved to avoid a head-on collision.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath as he flipped on the flashing lights and made a sharp U-turn to go after the reckless driver. His heart pounding in his chest, Logan hit the gas and closed the gap between them in no time. When they refused to pull over, he hit the siren, its shrill wail cutting through the quiet night. At last, the brake lights came on and the vehicle slowed to a stop. Logan pulled up behind them with a screech of tires.

Determined to get to the bottom of this dangerous behavior, Logan grabbed his hat off the dash and placed it firmly on his head before stepping out of his patrol car. He walked toward the other vehicle with his hand resting on his weapon, ready for anything, as he unsnapped the retainer button.

"Is there a problem?" slurred a male voice from within.

"Is there a problem? Are you serious?" Logan's anger simmered just beneath the surface. "You almost hit me head on back there. How much have you had to drink?"

"I didn't count," the man snorted out a laugh from behind the wheel.

Logan shook his head in disbelief. "Step out of the car, please." He leaned down to peer across to the passenger and was shocked to see Dixie sitting there. "You too, ma'am."

What was she doing in this car with a drunk driver? Logan's jaw set in frustration as he stepped back and watched as the driver stumbled out of his car, barely able to stand upright.

"I need to see your license, registration, and proof of insurance, sir," Logan demanded, looking back and forth between the two individuals. He could see tears in Dixie's eyes and his stomach clenched with worry. Was she okay?

The man handed over the documents with a drunken grin. "There you go, dep-ty."

Logan took them and retreated to his patrol SUV. As he ran a check on the man's information, he called for backup. He wasn't sure what this traffic stop would turn into, but he needed someone else there to help with Dixie.

As he listened to the dispatcher tell him about the man's extensive DWI record and suspended license, Logan couldn't hide his frustration. This was not going to end well. He stepped out of his car once again and walked toward the driver, standing by the back of his vehicle.

"Did you know your license was suspended?"

"I thought that was fixed now," the man slurred.

"Well, it's not."

"Okay, well as soon as I drop her off, I'll head home," the driver said casually.

"No, sir. Would you be willing to take a sobriety test?"

"Like doing what?"

"Walking heel to toe, saying the alphabet. You do know your alphabet, right?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But, what?"

"I don't think I can say them alphabetically."

"What the fuck," Logan muttered under his breath and sighed. "How else would you say them?"

"Just anyway I can get them out. A, D, B—"

"Stop. Are you willing to do other tests? I think the alphabet is a lost cause with you."

"What if I say no?"

"Then I'll arrest you based on my observations that you are driving while intoxicated."

"And if I do take it and don't pass?"

"Same outcome. You'll be arrested." Logan shrugged.

"I'm not gonna wait around for that," the man argued.

"Yes, you will." Logan leaned against the trunk of the car.

"You can't make me stay here," the belligerent man yelled.

"Sir, you were driving while intoxicated, your license is suspended, and you have multiple previous DWI charges. You are not going anywhere. Hell, your inability to recite the alphabet… alphabetically , is enough to take you in."

In a fit of rage, the man stormed toward his own car and got inside. But before he could close the door, Logan reached in and yanked him out by his collar. The man swung wildly at Logan but missed, and Logan quickly pushed him against the side of the car. With practiced ease, he pulled the man's arms behind his back and handcuffed him.

"You're under arrest," Logan snapped, then read the man his rights as he escorted him to the back of the patrol vehicle. After helping him inside, Logan slammed the door shut and took a moment to compose himself before walking back to Dixie.

"What's going on, Dixie? Did he hurt you?" he asked her, standing beside her with his hands on his hips.

"No, he just scared me. I tried to get him to let me drive but he refused."

"You shouldn't have gotten into the car with him," Logan snapped.

She turned to face him. "Do you think I don't know that? I didn't realize just how drunk he was until he drove for a little while, then I asked him to pull over and let me out, and he said he was fine."

"Obviously not."

"I'll call someone to come and get me."

"I can take you home once another deputy gets here."

Dixie stepped closer to him. "I'd rather ride with a snake."

"Damn it, Dixie. Why do you have to make my life so fucking miserable?"

"I live for it."

Logan huffed. "Fine."

Shaking his head, he walked back to the patrol vehicle when he heard the man yelling from inside. He pulled the door open and stared at him.

"Settle down," he growled.

"Let me the fuck out of here."

"I will once the other deputy gets here."

"Then I can go?"

"Yeah, you can go. Into his vehicle and then to jail. "

"You're an ass," the man shouted, and Logan turned to look at Dixie when he thought he heard her say, ‘nailed it' but she turned away from him.

"Shut the fuck up," Logan snapped, as he looked back at the man.

"What about my car? Do you know how much that car cost?"

"Can't say as I do. I also don't care. Now, shut up." He shoved the door closed a little harder than necessary, walked to the front of the vehicle, leaned against it, folded his arms, and watched as Dixie made a phone call, then hung up and looked at him.

"I'll need a ride home. No one is available," Dixie said, narrowing her eyes at him, letting him know she wanted anyone but him to take her home.

He removed his hat, raked his fingers through his hair, then resettled the hat. Damn, she hated him. Even though just a few days ago, she'd been comforting him. She loved his dad too and knew how close he and his father were. Just because she hated him, didn't mean she couldn't understand what he was going through.

In the distance, he heard a siren and knew either Mark or Paul was on the way. Logan would be glad to get to the station, then head home. He hated working this late, but at times, it couldn't be helped. With only five deputies and Sam, the sheriff, it could get busy.

Logan worked the first shift, but some days ran longer than others, and today had been one of them, then to top it off, he pulled over a drunk driver with Dixie in the passenger seat. He'd be happy if he could get through any day and not see her, and he knew she felt the same. Damn, they'd been so in love. He had wanted to marry her.

But when she found out the truth, her love quickly turned to hate, and Logan knew she'd never believe that he had truly loved her.

When the cruiser pulled to a stop behind his SUV, he saw Deputy Paul Dixon walking toward him.

"Can you give Dixie a ride home? I'll get this jackass to the station. Oh, can you call Chuck to tow the car in, please?"

"Will do." Paul walked toward Dixie. "If you're ready, Dixie, I'll drive you home."

"Thank you, Paul," she said while walking past Logan without even acknowledging him.

Damn, what a hardhead. Logan sighed, climbed into his vehicle, made a U-turn, and headed to the department.

"How soon can I make bail?" the man slurred.

"Probably in the morning." Logan grinned. He knew the man could make it tonight, but he couldn't help but tease about it.

"Morning? I'm not staying in that cell overnight."

"You will if you can't make bail."

"I have money. I can make bail. I hope you know you ruined my night with my date."

" I ruined your night? You're the one who ruined it by getting drunk. I'd bet money you won't be going out with her again."

"She wasn't that great anyway. She seems to have a temper."

Logan snorted. Seems to have a temper? Hell, Dixie's picture was under ‘bad temper' in the dictionary. That woman could make the strongest man cringe. She didn't hold back when she was mad. He mentally shook his head. The only time he saw that happen was when he arrested her father. After telling him she hated him, she never spoke to him again.

After he handed off the man to Deputy Mark Shaw at the department, Logan headed out the door. He was off tomorrow, and he planned to spend the day with his dad. Maybe take him to the cabin and do some fishing. If he was up to it.

Logan was always afraid his father would get tired if he took him too far from home. His health was declining every day. When he'd been diagnosed, two years ago, it was already in stage two. Pancreatic cancer has the potential to be curable if caught very early . But the overall poor prognosis and the fact that the disease was mostly incurable, his father was running out of time.

When Logan came home two years ago for the case, he had no clue his father had cancer. He had waited to tell Logan because he wanted Logan to do his job. When his father told him, the bottom fell out. Not only had he lost Dixie, but he would soon lose his father.

He made the decision he would come home when Clint's health started to decline, and in Clifton is where he would stay. He made a promise to his father years ago that he would take over the ranch, and he intended to keep that promise.