Chapter Six

Three days had passed since Logan's father's passing, and he stood against the wall of the town hall, observing the people who had gathered to pay their respects. Some were sitting at tables, while others stood in small groups, chatting quietly. He couldn't help but wonder what they were saying about his father. A faint smile appeared on his lips when he heard laughter coming from one group. No doubt they were laughing about something his father had said or done. Clinton Townson was well-loved by everyone in town. Taking a deep breath, Logan wished he could leave. Just then, he saw Dixie approaching him.

"Did you eat anything?" she asked him.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat something."

Logan nodded but didn't say anything. He continued to watch the crowd. Dixie let out a sigh and leaned against the wall next to him.

"How are you holding up?"

"Okay," he replied with a shrug. "How much longer do you think I need to stay here?"

"You can leave whenever you want, Logan. Everyone knows you're grieving. They'll understand if you need some time alone. Don't stay if you'd rather not."

Logan turned to face her. "I can't take it anymore. I have to leave."

"I understand," Dixie said sympathetically.

"It was a beautiful service," Logan choked out.

"Yes, your father would have loved it."

"I'm sorry, I have to go," Logan said abruptly as he pushed off from the wall and made his way to the coat check to retrieve his hat and coat before leaving the building.

He climbed into his truck, leaned his head back, and wept. The thought of not being able to talk to his father anymore was unbearable. With a heavy heart, he started the engine and drove aimlessly down Main Street, eventually leaving the town behind.

As he pulled onto the ranch, he bypassed the main house and headed straight for the cabin. It was the only place he wanted to be. The truck jostled over bumps in the road, and he cursed as he saw snowflakes beginning to fall.

But it didn't matter. Once he arrived at the cabin, he had no intention of leaving for a while. He had stocked up on food a few days ago, so there was plenty to sustain him. All he wanted was some time alone.

Parking in front of the cabin, he got out of his truck and walked across the porch. Once inside, he started a fire in the potbelly stove. Despite being bundled up in his coat and gloves, it was still bitterly cold inside.

Eventually, as the warmth filled the cabin, Logan shed his hat and coat, then collapsed onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling with tears in his eyes.

"Dad, what am I supposed to do now?"

With a heavy sigh, Logan kicked off his boots and snuggled under the quilt that was draped over the back of the sofa. Exhausted from all his emotions and the past few days, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

****

Dixie pulled her SUV up beside Logan's vehicle and noticed smoke billowing out of the chimney of the cabin. She got out of her vehicle with a bag of food in hand and made her way toward the porch.

She knocked lightly on the door but received no response. Quietly turning the knob, she entered and found Logan asleep on the sofa. Setting the bag of food on the kitchen counter, she added some logs to the dwindling fire and took off her hat and coat before hanging them up by the door.

She gazed at his sleeping form, her heart aching with a mix of longing and sorrow. She knew that he would never be a part of her life again, and it pained her deeply. She couldn't imagine ever loving another man as much as she loved Logan.

With a heavy sigh, she made her way to the kitchen and unpacked the bag of food she had brought. There was meat for sandwiches, loaves of bread, potato and macaroni salad, fruit, and sweets from the bakery. Dixie carefully placed everything in the fridge before returning to the couch.

As she looked down at him, a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He appeared so peaceful in his slumber, but she knew that he must be exhausted. It was unlikely that he had gotten much sleep lately .

Taking a deep breath, Dixie gently lifted his head and sat down on the couch, cradling his head in her lap. He didn't even stir. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she brushed his hair back from his forehead, wondering if she would ever stop loving him. Finally, she kicked her shoes off, leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes, succumbing to exhaustion herself.

Sometime later, she woke up to a chill in the air. Opening her eyes, she saw that Logan was still sleeping soundly. Carefully, she lifted his head and got to her feet, slowly lowering his head onto the sofa before heading over to add more logs to the stove.

"You have to put more than two or three in there," Logan's voice startled Dixie as he spoke from the sofa.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I fell asleep too and the chill woke me."

Logan got up and joined her by the stove, squatting down to add more logs himself.

"That's the only way it will keep burning for the night," he explained.

Dixie looked at him, tears once again welling up in her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, looking at her.

"I brought you some food from the memorial. There was so much, a lot of people took home what they brought. I told them you wouldn't want all of it."

"No, I don't even need what you brought," Logan replied.

"How do you know if you don't know what I brought?" Dixie countered.

"I have enough food, Dixie. How long have you been here?"

She checked her watch. "A few hours."

"You shouldn't be here."

"I know you wanted to be alone, but I don't think you should be," she said quietly.

"I'm not going to do anything," Logan assured her.

"I know that, but being alone just lets you think too much."

"You can leave now," Logan stated firmly.

"Okay." Dixie walked over to where her hat and coat hung and put them on. She turned to look at him one last time. "If you need anything, please let me know."

Logan nodded before returning to sit on the couch, as she walked toward the door. Dixie flipped on the porch light, sighed, opened the door, gasped, and looked back at him.

"I don't think I'm going anywhere," she whispered.

Logan strode toward the door and looked out in disbelief. "It looks like you're stuck here now," he muttered. "You can have the cot. I'll take the sofa."

Dixie shook her head stubbornly. "No, I can take the sofa. You're too tall for it anyway. You take the cot."

"Could you, just once, not argue with me? I'm too fucking tired," Logan snapped.

"Fine," she retorted, her voice laced with anger and hurt.

"Yeah, that's a lie. Why are you even here? I would think this is the last place you'd want to be," Logan's words stung, but Dixie refused to let him see how much they affected her. She simply shook her head, removed her hat and coat and walked back over to the sofa, plopping down on it and folding her arms across her chest in defiance.

****

Logan stared at her, then walked to the kitchen. He took the meat, cheese, bread, and mayonnaise from the fridge and put everything on the counter.

She followed him and they stood in the kitchen, making sandwiches, and neither spoke. The tension between them was physical, the air thick with it. When their hands brushed against each other as they reached for the mayonnaise, a spark ignited between them, and they both froze.

Logan's eyes locked onto Dixie's, and he could see the desire in them. He swallowed hard; his throat suddenly dry. He clenched his jaw, trying to reign in his emotions, but it was useless. He wanted her, and he knew she wanted him too.

"I can't fucking take it anymore," he growled, his voice low and harsh. He roughly pulled her into his arms. His lips crashed onto hers, and she moaned, opening her mouth to let him in.

His tongue explored her mouth, tangling with hers, and he could taste the hunger in her kiss. He could feel her body pressing against his, and he knew she could feel his hard cock pressing against her .

He slid his hands down her back, gripping her hips and pulling her even closer. She gasped as their bodies connected, and he could feel the heat radiating off her. His hands explored her body, sliding up under her shirt and touching her bare skin.

She arched her back, pushing her breasts against his chest, and he could feel her nipples hardening through the fabric of her bra. He cupped her breasts in his hands, squeezing gently and running his thumbs over her nipples.

She moaned, grinding her hips against him, and he knew she was as hot as he was. He moved one hand down to her ass, squeezing it roughly, pulling her even tighter against him. He slid his hand inside the front of her jeans, feeling the heat of her sex. She gasped as he touched her, and he could feel her body shudder.

His fingers found her clitoris, and he began to rub it gently, teasing her. She whimpered, grinding against his hand, wanting more.

He could feel the heat coming from her, and it was driving him crazy. He continued touching her, then added more pressure and he knew she was close.

He rubbed faster and harder, and she came, her body shaking and convulsing. He held her tightly, his lips on hers, as she rode out her orgasm.

When it was over, she pulled back, breathing heavily. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire, and he knew he wasn't done with her yet .

He unsnapped her jeans, sliding them off, along with her panties, then lifted her onto the counter, spreading her legs and stepping between them. Sliding his hand between her legs again, he could feel how wet she was, and he had to taste her. It had been way too long. He slid down to his knees, putting his face between her legs.

She gasped as he licked her, his tongue exploring her slit, finding her clitoris. She moaned, and he could feel her getting wetter.

She squirmed on the counter, moaning and gasping as he moved his tongue along her slit. Her breathing grew heavy, and he knew she was close again.

He sucked harder, and she exploded, her body shaking and convulsing.

He stood up, pulling her closer to the edge of the counter. He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock. She looked at it, and he could see the desire in her eyes. He quickly rolled on a condom and slid into her, and she gasped, her body tensing. He could feel the tightness of her, the heat, the wetness, and it was driving him wild. He began to thrust, slowly at first, then faster and harder.

She moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of her. He could feel her nails digging into his ass, and it only spurred him on. He pounded into her, harder and faster, and she cried out, her body shaking.

He could feel her tightening around him. He reached down, finding her clitoris with his fingers, and began to rub it in circles. She screamed, her body tensing, and she came, clenching around his cock.

He could feel his own orgasm building, and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He pounded into her, harder and faster, until he couldn't hold back anymore. His orgasm hit him hard.

When it was over, he put his forehead against hers, catching his breath. She looked at him, her eyes filled with desire and satisfaction. He leaned down, kissing her deeply, and knew that this was far from over. He could live a hundred years and still never get enough of her.

Logan stared into her eyes. "You're not going to hit me, are you?"

Dixie gazed into his eyes, bit her lip, glanced away, and he knew she was trying not to laugh. He chuckled and she laughed with him.

"Sex was always good between us, wasn't it?" she said.

"Even bad sex with you would be good, Dixie." He sighed. "I'm sorry—" She put her hand over his mouth.

"I don't want to hear apologies, Logan. I heard them two years ago. I didn't believe you then and I don't believe you now." She shrugged. "I never will."

Dixie hopped off the bar, picked up her jeans and panties, then entered the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

"Fuck," he swore as he zipped his jeans and waited for his turn in the bathroom. She would never believe how sorry he was that he hurt her. She'd made that clear. He didn't know what else he could do to convince her.

She returned from the bathroom and made a sandwich. After one look at her, he entered the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash his hands. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he swore knowing he had a snowball's chance in hell of having her back in his life.

****

Dixie's eyes blurred with unshed tears as she hastily put together a sandwich, her hands trembling with anger and hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the intense heat that had always sparked between them.

But now, she couldn't trust him. How could she believe his words of love when he had used and deceived her? It was a simple answer; he couldn't truly love her.

The door to the bathroom opened and he strode out, heading straight for the sofa without even glancing at her. Taking a deep breath, Dixie grabbed the sandwich and walked over to him. But as their eyes met, her breath caught in her throat. She still loved him so desperately.

"I don't want it," he said, breaking the moment.

"Tough shit," she snapped, shoving the sandwich into his hands. "You need to eat."

He looked up at her, frustration etched on his face. "You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met."

"You're no walk in the park yourself, Townson," she growled back. "I'll be leaving first thing in the morning, one way or another." Stalking back to the small kitchenette, Dixie made herself a sandwich and settled onto the cot against the wall, forcing herself to eat despite her churning emotions.

"That makes two of us," he muttered as he took a bite of his sandwich. The silence between them was heavy and tense as they both tried to ignore the lingering feelings of love and betrayal that hung in the air.

Dixie finished her meal and went into the bathroom for a shower before heading to bed. She hoped that the snow had stopped so she could finally leave in the morning, no matter what. She couldn't bear being stuck here with him for even one more day.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it and let out a sob while covering her mouth with her hand. After composing herself, she turned on the shower and undressed. The warm water felt comforting, but she knew she couldn't stay in there forever. She washed without getting her hair wet, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep with damp hair.

She dried off and got dressed. Hopefully, she could relax enough to fall asleep and escape this nightmare. When she emerged from the bathroom, Logan was nowhere to be seen. Wondering where he went in the freezing weather, she heard the front door open and saw him carrying logs for the stove.

He stacked them neatly and added some to the fire before removing his coat and hat and settling on the sofa under a quilt. Dixie sighed and climbed into bed, pulling the blanket over her. She prayed for sleep to come quickly.

The next morning, she woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows. Stretching, she realized Logan was not in the cabin. Curious, she walked to the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. Still no sign of Logan, but when she opened the door to check the weather, she was surprised to see that he had cleared her SUV of snow, and his truck was gone.

****

Logan drove to the house and sat in the truck staring at it. He hated going inside because his father's presence was everywhere. But he knew he had to eventually go in because he was going to have to clean out his father's belongings.

Throwing the door open, he stepped from the truck, trudged through the snow, and walked up the steps, then entered the house.

He stood inside the kitchen listening to the quiet. With a sigh, he removed his hat and coat, then hung them up.

Taking a deep breath, Logan walked into the living room and looked around as tears pricked his eyes. There was a lot to take care of and though he had time, he wanted to get it done as soon as possible.

He was startled when someone knocked at the back door. He strode to the kitchen, opened the door, and smiled at Carl.

"Good morning, Logan," Carl said as he removed his hat.

"Carl, come inside, out of the cold." Logan opened the door wider. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No, thanks, son. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Logan shook his head. "Not good, but I'll get there. I was just thinking about starting to clear out the house."

"Are you getting rid of everything?" Carl asked in surprise.

"No, just his clothes…" Logan's voice choked, and he cleared his throat.

"I'm sure Desiree could help you," Carl said, mentioning his wife.

"I appreciate that, but there's not much. I'll be staying here, so there isn't much I want to throw out."

"Alright, son. The service was nice yesterday. A lot of people loved him."

"Yeah, they sure did."

"I'll head back to the barn for now." Carl turned to leave but faced him again. "Now might not be the time, but do you know what you're going to do with the ranch?"

"I'm keeping it as is. You and the men will still have jobs, Carl. In fact, I'm getting in touch with Ash about it in a few days." Logan could see the relief on the older man's face.

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm not sure I could find another job at my age."

"You don't have to worry about that. I made a promise to Dad and I'm going to keep it."

Carl smiled, put his hand out for Logan to shake. After shaking hands, Carl walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Logan returned to the living room, then headed for his father's bedroom. As much as he dreaded this, it had to be done, and the sooner the better.