Chapter 11

11

" Y ou know your way around power tools," Logan said admiringly.

"I've had to do everything myself for so long that I've forgotten what it's like to have good help," Tabby said, then wished she hadn't, because Logan grinned at her like she'd just made a dirty joke and she was pretty sure that she had.

Each drywall sheet went up easily with two people, and Logan was strong enough to hold it in place while Tabby tacked it onto the studs with a screw gun. The bunkhouse was finally looking like a dwelling, and not a hollow shell with open walls.

"I can do the plaster and painting myself," she said, fighting back the heat in her ears as she finished the screw pattern. She was absolutely not going to give Logan any encouragement, and she reminded herself that he was clearly just the flirty, flattering type. He'd look at anyone in tight jeans the way he was looking at her. "I just needed some muscle to get the boards into place."

Logan had already moved to stack the sawhorses that had held the drywall sheets and pick up the saw they'd used to cut out the electricity penetrations.

Penetrations.

Tabby caught herself lingering over the word.

Why were so many construction terms so filthy? She was a grown woman who could keep herself from being distracted by a hot guy, no matter how long it had been. She sank a screw too deep and swore under her breath. She could fix it with joint compound.

By the time she'd finished putting all the screws in, Logan had wound up the extension cord and put the saw away. He had the box for the screw gun waiting, and had already gathered up all the stray screws and put them back in the box. Tabby marveled at how she hadn't had to tell him what to do next; they were obvious tasks, but she was used to having to micromanage every project with her ex and constantly keep him on track if she wanted his help at all.

It didn't feel like Logan was looking for any excuse to get out of the work.

"What's next, boss?"

"We're going for a short hike," Tabby said. "Out to the gate."

"Let me get Franzi," Logan said.

Franzi was playing in the mud at the end of the garden, just in sight through the open door.

"We're going on a little trip, kitten!" Logan said.

Franzi got very still and looked up at him cautiously. "Am I going away?"

Tabby busied herself putting the screw gun in the case while Logan crouched down and quietly reassured the little girl. As cute and charismatic as he was, it was his charm with Franzi that tested Tabby's resolve the most. But it didn't matter how good a stand-in dad he was being, she was absolutely not going to get involved with this disaster of a guy any more than she already regretted committing to.

"There's a ladder against the back of the house we'll need to take out with us," Tabby said briskly.

"Will you help me carry it, Franzi?"

Whatever Logan had said to her, it had set the little girl's fears to rest and Franzi jumped up eagerly.

She was much more of a hindrance to the job than a help, being barely more than three feet tall. She took the rungs between Tabby and Logan, who had to carry it lower than comfortable so she could think she was assisting, and she careened into it and tripped several times, nearly dragging them down.

But she was so cheerful about being a helper that Tabby couldn't begrudge her the extra effort. The sun was dipping towards the horizon, hidden behind the fringe of trees and ridges of the nearby hills, and the light was starting to fade. It was a pleasant evening, cool after a sweltering day, and gravel crunched beneath their feet.

"What fabulous act of strength can I perform next?" Logan asked, as they rounded the curve to the gate.

"It doesn't require any great strength," Tabby said, though it would have been a struggle getting the old-fashioned all-wood ladder this far by herself. "I'm just about four inches too short to do this job." She stopped them right at the gate and set up the ladder. "I've wanted that sign down for five years."

The ladder unfolded and Tabby held the far side as Logan climbed up to the very top. At least on the opposite side of the ladder, she wasn't staring up at his ass, even if she did get one brief, accidental look at his crotch as he went up.

Franzi called unnecessary instructions from the bottom of the ladder. "A little FARTHER, Uncle LOGAN. Over that way!"

Logan pretended to be confused, reaching into space. "Over here?"

Franzi giggled. "No! The OTHER way!"

Logan had to stretch to actually reach the hanging sign, and stepped up on the step that undoubtedly would have been marked DON'T STAND HERE if the ladder hadn't been a hundred years old and made long before OSHA. The ladder swayed, and Tabby hung on for dear life. But the sign came off the hooks and Tabby was looking fixedly away when he came back down the ladder, telling herself that her heart was pounding because she'd worried for him crashing down and suing her for a broken arm, not for any other reason.

"This will be good for kindling," she said, taking the big sign from Logan with a grimace of dismay.

"Was Big Dawg your husband's name?"

Tabby shook her head. "It predated us. But really, Big Dawg Dude Ranch ? It's worse than Better Behave. "

"Not much is worse than Better Behave ," Logan scoffed.

"I'm sure I could come up with something," Tabby teased.

They walked back, and Franzi was clearly tiring out, leaning against the ladder as they walked and not even pretending to help.

"I should get her to bed," Logan observed. "I'll try to get the stalls mucked after she's down."

Tabby already recognized that Logan was spreading himself thin. He got up as early as she did, and worked full days at the auto shop while Franzi was in day care, then came home to feed his niece and get her to bed. He always made himself available to help Tabby, but she could tell that it was a challenge to juggle an active little girl, a full time job, and still get anything else done. "Take the night off," she suggested. "Letisha will be here tomorrow morning to babysit Franzi and I need to make sure we're on the same wavelength for riding before I sign us up for a show."

Logan gave her one of his slow, teasing smiles and Tabby reminded herself that it wasn't serious. "Ready to go for a ride?"

"No! Yes! Don't say it like that! You are just a horse I bought." Tabby pinched the bridge of her nose. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

"Harder, you say?"

"I'm going to sell you to a stockyard," Tabby threatened, but she could not help but laugh. "Go get your girl to bed. I'll do the stalls and see you in the morning."