Chapter 15

15

S pring in the mountains of Montana came in with a vengeance, Logan realized. The growing season was short, but fierce, and Tabby warned Logan that the garden was absolutely all or nothing. The day that Logan moved in, the rows for carrots and potatoes were barely more than tiny sprouts. Within the week, they were ankle high and choked with opportunistic bindweed and chickweed. In a month, there was a jungle of unruly plants.

"Do you ever stop working?" Logan asked. Franzi was still asleep, and he had just a short window of opportunity before he had to get her up and take her into town.

"Did I wake you up feeding the horses? It's supposed to rain today," Tabby said, sitting back on her heels and wiping her hands on her pants. She wasn't wearing a hat, though Logan thought she should be; the back of her neck was already ruddy. Every so often while they were working, her collar would gap to show a distinct tan line and a tantalizing glimpse of comparatively pale skin. "I'd rather do it now than be all wet later. "

"No comment," he said with a chuckle, when Tabby flushed the color of her sunburn.

He crouched down and began pulling up handfuls of weeds. "But this is supposed to be my job," he said apologetically.

"You've…kind of got your hands full," Tabby said as she moved to put the weed bucket in reach of both of them.

"I still mean to honor our agreement," Logan said seriously. "I'll get it all done somehow."

Every morning, he left with Franzi, often making several extra trips up the stable stairs for things they'd forgotten. He returned with her early each evening after a full day of work at the auto shop and tried to get work done with Tabby, but having a forty-pound shadow definitely complicated his productivity. The little girl might entertain herself for a while with mud pies while he helped Tabby hang sheetrock or install plumbing, but everything required frequent breaks because Franzi got hungry, thirsty, bored, or had to be accompanied to the bathroom. Meals, without exception, took twice as long as Logan expected.

He mucked out and bedded the stalls one at a time while Franzi played in the fresh hay. She didn't offer to shift, and when Logan suggested it from time to time, she shook her head. "Not supoze to be a horsey," she would mumble. Then she would ask for a snack and Logan would put his tools away and make her one.

After he got her down to sleep at night, Logan would show up to do some of the other tasks that Tabby had assigned him. The horses took a lot of work, and finishing the bunkhouses in whatever time they could carve out was a slow, laborious process. Tabby was up as late as he was every night, and awake in the morning even earlier .

"Out of curiosity, how did you get past the barn security system? That's a state-of-the-art keypad setup."

"I've got a keypad cracker," Logan said.

"That sounds very James Bond," Tabby chuckled.

"Oh, it is. Pocket-sized, and it shifts right along with me."

"How many times were you sold before I had the dumb luck to get you?"

Logan tossed a fistful of chickweed into the bucket between them. "A few dozen, maybe? It's not something we could do too many times, no matter how many different identities Clancy had. The reason we picked you, actually, is that we'd pissed off a pretty important guy with deep pockets and the heat was on; we were looking for someone that would be off the radar. Before you, it was rodeo owners and big name horse brokers. But Clancy wanted to keep a low profile for a while, and your wanted post was just our speed."

"Oh, thank you," Tabby said tartly. "I'm so glad I have rube written all over my forehead. That's what every woman wants to hear."

"You're not a complete rube," Logan teased. "Though I gotta say, I really question your character judgment! You should vet your renters more carefully."

Tabby laughed, the way he meant her to. "It was an impulsive choice, but I'm not regretting it…yet." She moved further away and Logan concentrated on the next row of plants until their work brought them together again. Weeding was trickier than it sounded, especially when the interlopers were nearly the same size as the seedlings. Franzi, in an early attempt to help, had ripped up several feet of fragile plants. Logan had replanted them the best he could, but they still looked deeply traumatized and stunted .

"You aren't still feeling bad about those, are you? I haven't given up on them yet."

Tabby was carrying the full weed bucket to dump it in the compost bin, and Logan realized that he was staring at the wilted plants thinking mournfully of Franzi. She'd been ripped away from her family and safety. Was she young enough to be resilient, or would losing her parents stunt her forever? How could Logan possibly be the family she needed? The scope of his responsibility was daunting.

"I was just thinking about Franzi," Logan said brusquely, standing to put a final handful of weeds in her bucket.

"Did you find out what happened to your brother?" Tabby asked gently.

"Car accident. An inexperienced driver took a left turn across traffic. Franzi was in the back seat and was barely scraped up in her car seat, but both her parents and the other driver died."

"Thank God for car seats," Tabby murmured. "How's she doing?"

"She's amazing," Logan said without hesitation. "She loves it here, she loves the day care, and I don't know how to thank you for letting us stay here." He hadn't realized how close he was standing, or how his voice had automatically dropped.

She frowned and pushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear while she looked fixedly at his forehead. "Tomorrow's show will be the real test of how well this will work out," she warned him. "I told you this wasn't charity, and I'm not interested in your alternate payments. I needed a solid show horse, and that's what you're going to be."

Logan didn't want her to think he was just flirting with her, or and he certainly didn't want to jeopardize their working relationship, even if she was really hot. But he couldn't resist grinning at her. "You'll come around on those alternatives."

"Check your ego, cowboy," Tabby sniffed. "And bring your A game to Missoula tomorrow morning, because I expect to get my money's worth out of you."

Logan tipped his hat to her. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed. He couldn't resist adding a wink.