Hope Ignites
Page 28

 Jaci Burton

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DES PONDERED COLT’S dilemma after she finished her scenes for the day. He was so brave coming out, knowing what was at stake.
And if he could suck it up and not be afraid, so could she.
It was time for her to visit Logan. After they filmed their scenes for the day, she showered and changed into a pair of white capris, a dark blue spaghetti-strap tank with a flowing sleeveless silk button-down top over it, then slid into her sandals. She grabbed one of the SUVs and took a ride over to the ranch. She stopped at the house first. Martha was there.
“Des, I’m so glad to see you.” Martha enveloped her in a hug. “I was just finishing up for the day and waiting for Ben so we could head home. Are you looking for Logan?”
“Yes.”
“He went to the cabin to go fishing. I packed him up his dinner, so he might be out there awhile. Ben and I have a meeting to attend in town tonight, so we’re heading out early. Do you know where the cabin and pond are?”
Remembering that night they spent together at the cabin, she nodded. “I do. Thanks, Martha. I’ll go find him.”
She drove the few miles to the cabin, practicing in her head what she was going to say to him when she found him.
She had no idea, only that this distance between them was uncomfortable. She only had a little time left before they wrapped their location shoot, and the one thing she did know was that she wanted to spend that time with Logan. It was ridiculous to be mad at him.
She parked next to his truck and got out, but didn’t see him outside near the pond, so she went up to the cabin and knocked. No answer.
Huh. She went around to the back of the cabin, then walked down the flagstone path toward the pond. She finally saw him at the far end of the pond, sitting under a tall tree close to the water. The tree’s branches bent low, offering a large spot of shade from the blistering afternoon heat. He had a line in the water and he was leaning against the trunk of the tree, his cowboy hat tipped low across the top of his face. He didn’t wave to her, so for all she knew, he might be asleep.
Not wanting to wake him, she slowed her steps as she crept closer. His legs were outstretched, his ankles crossed. He still wore his boots, dirt caked across the bottoms of his jeans. His dark blue T-shirt was stretched tight across his impossibly chiseled shoulders and chest. She wanted to pull out her phone and snap a picture of him in that pose. How could a man leaning against a tree, who looked to be asleep, be so damn sexy?
She was only about five feet away when he said, “What brings you here, Des?”
She nearly jumped out of her sandals. “Dammit, Logan. I thought you were asleep.”
“Not asleep. And be quiet. You’ll scare the fish away.”
She sat next to him on the ground and stared out over the pond. “Catch anything yet?”
“No.”
“How long have you been here?”
“About an hour.”
“Don’t you usually fish before dawn?”
“I’m usually up and working cattle before dawn. But yeah, that’s the optimal time. Doesn’t mean you can’t catch fish now. This is a cool, shady spot with a lot of trees. And I have good bait.”
The trunk of the tree was thick enough that there was room for her to lean against it.
“Your white pants are going to get dirty,” he said.
“I don’t care.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, then stared out over the water. It was such a beautiful location, the entire pond rimmed by low hanging branches from all the trees that peppered the area. Logan was right, she had definitely cooled off, now that she was in the canopy of shade here. It was quiet, the only sound the rustle of a slight wind through the tall treetops.
She wanted to talk, but then again, Logan wasn’t saying anything either, so she stayed quiet and watched his line in the water. It wasn’t moving. The surface of the water barely moved, and as she managed glances at Logan from the corner of her eye, she noticed his eyes were open and he was staring intently at his fishing line, as if he was willing a fish to jump on it.
“Nothing’s happening,” she finally said.
“Give it time. Fishing takes patience.”
“Now you sound like my dad.”
“Your dad’s right. You have to wait them out. One will come along eventually.”
“I don’t know how you can sit here for so long and do . . . nothing.”
“I’m not doing nothing. I’m thinking.”
She shifted her gaze from the line in the water to him. “About?”
“A lot of things.”
They had taken twenty steps backward in their relationship. This was like day one all over again, and she didn’t have the patience to start over again. “Okay, I can see you don’t want to be bothered by me. I’ll take off and leave you alone to your thinking.” She pushed off to stand.
“Don’t leave.”
She paused.
“Wait right here.” He handed her his fishing pole. “Hold this. I’ll be right back.”
When he got up and started walking away, she said. “What if a fish bites?”
“Pull it in,” he said, then disappeared.
She stared at the pole and the line sunk into the water. “Pull it in. Whatever.” She hadn’t fished since she was eight years old. Could she even remember what to do with a fish if she caught one? Was it like riding a bike—one of those things you never forgot how to do?
She kept her gaze trained on the line, while alternately searching for Logan’s return.
When she saw him approach with another fishing pole and a cooler in his hands, she rolled her eyes.
“Want me to bait it for you?” he asked as he sat down next to her and handed her a pole. He stuck his in the ground.
“I didn’t realize I was going to be fishing.”
“It’s good for you. It’ll relax you.”
“Do I need relaxing?”
“Yeah.”
She could think of several other ways to relax, none of them involving fishing or a pole—at least not a fishing pole—but she kept her comments to herself. “Fine. Where’s the bait?”
He pulled a smaller cooler out from the side of the tree and handed it over to her.
She opened it up, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the fish bait. “Lovely.”
“You’re a tough girl. You can take it. You need me to do any of this for you?”
“No, I’ve got it.”
She got her hook on the line, then selected a piece of the bait and hooked it on before casting her line in the water. Logan was right about one thing, though—she was already regretting the white pants. At least she had on dark tops.
She settled in against the tree again and studied her line, while Logan opened the other cooler.
“Beer, pop, or water?” he asked.
“Water is fine for me right now.”
He pulled out a bottled water and unscrewed the top, then handed it over to her. He popped the top of a can of beer for himself.
“Thanks.” She took several long swallows, put the lid back on, then set it to the side.
She sat there and stared at the line, her gaze wandering over the water.
“I’m sorry about that day after the Fourth,” he said.
She glanced over at him. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. I acted like an ass and I pushed you harder than I should have.” He turned his head and met her gaze. “I’m going to ask for your forgiveness, but I don’t deserve it.”
The wall around her heart fell. “You have it. I understand that what we have—whatever has been going on between us—is confusing.”
“That doesn’t ever give me the right to treat a woman—to treat you—the way I treated you that day. And it won’t happen again. You’re a guest on this ranch and I care about you. I just don’t know what to do with all these feelings I have for you. It’s kind of mixed up in my head.”
She admired his honesty, something she rarely got from a man. “I understand. It’s complicated.”
His lips curved. “Yeah.”
“We don’t have to do anything about what’s between us, Logan, other than enjoy each other while I’m here.”
He nodded. “I know. And I think I felt some pressure that there had to be more than that.”
Which meant he didn’t want more than that. Okay, now that she knew where she stood with him, she could make her remaining days here work. “We can just have fun, like we did at the beginning. And when it’s over, it’s over.”
“Right.”
Now that that was all settled, she felt just so much better.
Or not at all.
But then her line twitched. At first she thought she imagined it, but it pulled again.
“I think I’ve got a bite,” she said.
“I saw that. Just hang on to it for a second until he latches on, then start reeling him in.”
Excited now, she pushed to a standing position. Logan did, too, just as she felt a hard tug on her line. “I think this might be a big one.”
He came up behind her and helped her hold on to the pole. “Okay, start reeling him in.”
She unlocked her reel and started pulling in the fish, gently, so he wouldn’t break the line. With Logan’s help, they pulled the catfish out of the water and Logan grabbed hold of him.
“Fairly decent-sized one, too.” Logan removed the hook and held him up in front of her. “Want to take a picture?”
She laughed. “No. I’m good.”
He tossed the fish back in the water.
“Not keeping him?”
“Nah. I might catch him again, though.”
She shook her head. “All that effort for nothing. And I was already anticipating fish for dinner.”
“You haven’t eaten?”
“No. Have you?”
“There’s a sandwich in the cooler here, but I haven’t eaten it yet.”
“I see.”
He grabbed the poles. “Come on. We’ll go back to the house and we can eat something there.”
“Martha said she and Ben had to leave early tonight.”
“I can cook.”
“You. You cook.”
“Martha isn’t always around to fix food for me. I can make my way around the kitchen. Not like her, of course, but I manage.”
“Okay, chef. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She followed him back to the house, parking alongside his truck.
“Go on inside and help yourself to something to drink,” he said. “I’m going to put the fishing poles and bait away, and clean out the cooler. I’ll be right in.”
“Okay.” She went inside and headed into the downstairs bathroom to wash the fishy smell off her hands. She also shrugged out of her silky top since she still wore her tank and bra underneath. After slipping off her sandals, she made her way into the kitchen and took inventory of the contents of the fridge.
There were vegetables, but she just knew Logan wasn’t a salad-for-dinner kind of guy. Having seen the calories they burned off during an average day, especially a hot summer day, she pulled two steaks out of the freezer and placed them in the microwave to defrost, then grabbed some broccoli and cauliflower, along with tomatoes, peppers, and lettuce to make a salad. She mixed together a quick marinade for the steaks, and after they defrosted, slid the steaks in the marinade and got to work slicing the vegetables.
“What are you doing?” Logan asked as he came into the kitchen.
“Fixing dinner. Well, sort of. You’re going to cook the steaks I’m marinating, while I make the side dishes.” She leaned against the counter, waving the knife back and forth. “I assume you like vegetables.”
“I do.”
“Great. Then you’ll have to trust me.”
“I said I’d fix dinner.”
“And you’re going to. You’re going to be out in the heat doing the grilling, while I stay inside where it’s cool making the sides. It’s a big win for me.”
He gave her a dubious look. “I didn’t invite you here to the house so you could cook.”
She put her hand on her hip. “You don’t trust my cooking?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Good. Then go start the grill. It won’t take long for the steaks to marinade.”
He sighed, then went out the back door. Des busied herself by slicing the broccoli and cauliflower, then found a pan and put the veggies in there to steam. When Logan came back in, she took the steaks out of the marinade and put them on a plate.
“How do you like yours?” he asked.
“Medium rare.”
“Perfect. Same as mine. I’ll be back soon.”
He left with the meat, and she made the salad, then set the kitchen table, drained the broccoli and cauliflower, and seasoned them, setting them aside while she finished the salad and put it on the table. By then, Logan had come back in with the steaks.
It had all taken about twenty minutes, which was good because she was really hungry.
Logan scooped salad into a bowl, then the broccoli and cauliflower onto his plate.
“I didn’t even ask you if you liked any of this stuff,” she asked.
“Why would you bother to ask?”
“Some people don’t like broccoli. Or cauliflower.”
“I pretty much like whatever you put in front of me. I’m hungry.”
She smiled at him as she cut into her steak. “Me, too.”
The steak had turned out perfect, and they dug in, both of them quiet as they finished up their meal.