Stud for Hire (14 page)

“Dad. I'm okay. I'm fine.”

His gaze lingered on her face. “You're not fine.”

It was true. She couldn't deny it. She reached out and covered his hand with hers. “I'm just so sorry I screwed all this up . . .”

His brow wrinkled. “Screwed what up? Hanna, honey, what are you talking about?”

“The ranch, Daddy.” A tear leaked out and she swiped it away. “The mortgage.”

He flinched. “You . . . know about that?”

She nodded.

His Adam's apple worked.

“Zack told me.”

A muscle bunched in his cheek. “That son of a bitch.”

“It was going to be all right. Everything was going to be okay. I was going to marry him and he was going to pay off the loan and you and Mom would be able to stay here as long as you wanted . . .”

“That low-down son of a bitch.”

She squeezed his hand. “I'm so sorry, Daddy.”

He came around the table and knelt before her. “You got nothing to be sorry about, baby. This is all on me. I'm the one who listened to Zack. I'm the one who was stupid enough to invest in his scheme. It sounded solid. It all looked good . . .”

Hanna blinked. “You lost the money in an investment of Zack's?”

Her father blew out a breath. “It looked amazing. An opportunity to double our money. Practically too good to be true. Guess it was. I lost every penny I invested.” His brow darkened. “Zack promised he wouldn't tell anyone I was broke. And then, the two of you got engaged, and he agreed to pay off the loan as a wedding present and I, well, hell. I was relieved. Kind of surprised that you wanted to marry him, though, but too relieved to question it.” Again, her father studied her. He took in all the details, as though cataloging them for a book he might one day write. “Did you call it off? Or did he?”

“Ahem. It was kind of a mutual thing.”

“Did you want to marry him, honey?”

She fiddled with the hem of her sweater, her chin low. “Not really.”

“But you agreed. Because he told you we were losing the ranch and this was the only way . . .”

She shrugged.

“That scumbag.” He scrubbed his face with a palm. “Lord, I fucked up royally as a father, didn't I, Hanna?”

She took his weathered hand in hers. “You've been a great father.”

“It's just . . . Since your mother . . . I've been so worried about money and treatments and . . . everything. I lost my balance. I should never have made such a risky investment. It's all my fault. I would never, ever want you to marry a man like Zack Pucey to make up for my mistake. Do you hear me?” It was sweet, his gruff determination, his blustery pronouncement.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“There's nothing more wonderful than marriage, pumpkin, when you're married to the right person.” He glanced into the sitting room, where Mom watched waterfalls and fiddled with the knitting in her lap. “Nothing more precious than those years you spend with the person you love more than breath itself. Don't ever settle for less. No matter the cost. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I had the sense Zack wasn't right for you—”

“You never said a word.”

“I thought you were happy. I wanted you to be happy. You've always been a little reserved. You never talked much about your feelings. I figured, since he's the only feller you dated, and you agreed to marry him, he was the one you chose . . .”

Oh no. He wasn't. Not by a long shot.

“But knowing he tried to corral you into marrying him by using my debt as a lever . . .” He leapt up again and paced the kitchen, raking his thinning hair. “I could wring his scrawny neck.”

“Well, I'm not marrying him now.”

“Good.”

“But you know what that means, don't you, Daddy? We'll lose the ranch. And Mom . . .”

“Don't worry about it.”

She shook her head. “I can't help but worry about it. When Zack and I had our . . . disagreement, he was very angry. I expect him to roll up with eviction papers first thing tomorrow.” She tried to force a smile, but it didn't come out right.

“Don't worry about it, honey,” he said, patting her knee. “It'll all work out. I'll figure something out. And now, how about some of my famous chili?”

And while her soul ached and her body hurt and worry pressed down on her like an anchor, her stomach growled and they both laughed.

Just like he did when she was little, he went to the big pot on the stove and scooped out the chili she loved so much. He cut her off a hunk of cornbread and set it all before her and watched her eat.

He poured her a whiskey and made her drink it and then he helped her up the stairs to her room and didn't leave until she shooed him away.

Because she really, really needed a bath. And then, she planned to sleep for a week.

Or at least until Zack Pucey showed up to kick her out of her house.

Logan went with Cody when he took Sidney to the Stevens' home after the call came from her father that Hanna was safe. He couldn't not, even though his friend's glares made it clear to him Cody wanted some time with Sidney to himself.

He couldn't sleep without seeing Hanna again. Without talking to her and assuring himself she was all right.

This had, without exception, been the worst day of his life.

Even worse than the day he'd nearly died.

It had started out like heaven, waking up with Hanna in his arms, and quickly turned sour. Watching her climb into that truck with Zack, being unable to get to her, to reach her in time, had curdled his stomach. And then, when they couldn't find her, no matter where they looked—and they looked and looked for hours—he began to suspect the worst.

Not just that Zack had hurt her . . . but that she was gone forever. And the fear and taken root in his gut.

He knew Zack Pucey. He knew what that bastard was capable of. Although clearly, from the way she'd talked about him, she didn't know the whole horrible truth. No doubt he was on his best behavior whenever he was around her. And, no doubt, he threatened to beat the crap out of anyone daring to tell her the stories that floated around about him.

It sickened him to think of her at the mercy of the man who had put him in the hospital, cost him his spleen and one of his kidneys, all because he'd dared to interfere and stop the bastard from taking her by force that night in high school.

Once he'd recovered from that beating, his mother decided to move, lock, stock, and barrel, from the town owned and run by the Puceys. The town whose old sheriff had refused to press charges, even though Logan had nearly been beaten to death.

It had been the best thing ever, leaving that town. In Dallas, his mom, a widow, had met Sam Wilder, and everything had changed.

They'd never looked back.

But Logan had never stopped thinking about Hanna. Worrying about her living under Zack Pucey's cloud.

As they stepped onto the Stevens' porch, bile tickled at the back of his throat at the sight of a dark smear on the wood. In the shape of a footprint. His blood went cold.

She'd been barefoot.

Based on what Henry Stevens had told Sidney on the phone, Hanna had walked home.
Walked.

And she'd been barefoot.

He wanted to find Zack and pummel him into mincemeat. And even though her father had assured Sidney that Hanna was fine, Logan wouldn't believe it until he heard it from her lips.

He followed Cody and Sidney through the big double door into the Stevens' home. It was a typical ranch house, a two story with old-fashioned shutters. It was well kept up, but hardly the top of the line. As a boy, he'd thought Mr. Stevens a millionaire. Along with Guy Pucey, he'd been one of the richest men in town.

Funny how time could temper all perceptions.

An older woman, in the sitting room, turned as they entered. She smiled. Logan saw Hanna in her eyes. “Well, hello there,” she said. “Are you here to see Henry?”

“Yes, Mom.” Sidney bent and kissed her cheek “How are you doing today?”

The woman's eyes glassed over a little and she tipped her head to the side as though such a question confused her. “Well, I'm fine, I suppose,” she said.

“That's nice.” Sidney stroked her hair. “Where is . . . Henry?”

Mrs. Stevens shook her head and fiddled with the knitting in her lap. “Well, I never know anymore where he is—”

“I'm here.” Henry Stevens came into the room and shook Cody's hand. “Thanks for bringing Sidney back,” he said.

“Sure thing.” Cody tipped his hat.

“How is Hanna?” Logan asked. He couldn't be still any longer. Anxiety roiled in his gut.

“She's fine.” Henry nodded up the stairs. “She was exhausted, of course.”

“Was she . . . Did she . . .”
Shit.
How could he ask this?

Henry Stevens caught his eye and nodded slowly. “She's fine, son. Just fine. Can I offer you boys some chili?”

“Dad.” Sidney rolled her eyes. “No one wants chili.”

Cody nudged his toe into the carpet, as though he were loath to leave. “I'd love some of your chili, Mr. Stevens.”

Sidney glared at him as her father clapped his hands together and headed back to the kitchen. “You shouldn't encourage him,” she hissed.

Cody leaned close. “Sidney, can we talk?”

She frowned at him. “Not now, Cody.”

“Sidney . . .”

“I have to go check on Hanna.” She shot them both a dark look. “Enjoy your chili.”

“Tell her I'm here.” The words slipped out before Logan had a chance to stifle the urge.

Sidney stopped with her hand on the lintel, and studied him for a moment, and then, without a word, nodded and headed up the stairs.

“Come on in, boys, and have a seat,” Henry Stevens called from the kitchen. Sounds of bowls and silverware clanking came from the room.

Cody shot him a look. “Looks like we're having some chili.”

Logan shrugged. He wasn't going anywhere until he knew for certain that Hanna was okay. And even then, he didn't think he ever wanted to leave.

***

Despite her exhaustion, Hanna couldn't sleep.

She hunkered on her bed, clutching her old high school year book. The first thing she'd done after her bath was dig it out and find him. And yeah. She remembered him. Kind of.

He'd been the kid all the jocks teased and tormented, skinny and awkward and the butt of every joke.

It horrified her, what he'd gone through in high school, now, looking back.

It horrified her that she barely noticed him.

She hadn't been mean, like some of the girls. But she hadn't exactly been nice either.

Her heart ached for that boy. Her heart ached for the man he had become.

Beyond all that, her mind was a whirl with everything that had happened. She was worried about tomorrow, what they would do, and where they would go. And, she had to admit, she was terrified Zack would show up at any minute.

Her breath caught when she heard voices downstairs, but she allowed herself to relax when she caught Sidney's soft tones and Cody's response. Still, she pulled the covers over her head and huddled, shaking, in her bed.

She jumped when Sidney tapped on her door. She knew it was Sidney, because her sister didn't wait for her to respond. She opened the door and came right in.

“Hanna?”

She made her way through the darkened room, cursing as she banged against something, probably the desk.

“Go away, Sidney. I'm tired.”

“Hanna, Logan's here.”

Hanna's pulse skittered at the sound of his name. Then, that elation was replaced with chagrin. She didn't want to see Logan. Didn't want to talk to him. Not now. She couldn't. She hadn't been able to process Zack's revelations about Logan and that night. He had witnessed the worst moment of her life. Saved her. A girl who hadn't even given him the time of day. She certainly hadn't thanked him.

She wasn't sure how she felt about all of that—other than utter shame—but she knew she didn't have the energy to deal with it now.

Despite her undeniable attraction to the hunky ranch hand and the fact she was no longer marrying Zack, she couldn't bear to think about facing him again. It was all too raw. Too painful. Too frightening. Too embarrassing. Had she really told him her darkest fantasy? Had she really allowed him to play it out with her? Now that she knew who he was—not some anonymous stripper, but a man who knew all her friends—it was horrifying to think about. “I don't want to see him.”

Sidney blew out a breath. “Are you sure? He's really worried about you.”

“Tell him I'm fine.”

The bed dipped as her sister sat. She tugged back the duvet, despite Hanna's grip on it, and gazed down at her through the murk. “Are you?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“What happened with Zack?”

Hanna frowned. “We had . . . a disagreement.”

“Was he mad?”

“Yes.”

“Did he . . .”

Hanna blew out a breath. She knew what her sister was asking. Yes, he had. Or at least he'd tried. But she simply didn't want to talk about it. “I'm fine. I promise.”

“Will you come downstairs and tell Logan that? He's been nearly out of his mind with worry all day. We all have.”

“I'm too tired. Tell him I'm fine. Tell him whatever you want.”

“Are you . . .”

Silence crackled, scraping Hanna's nerves. “What?”

“Are you still marrying Zack?”

“No.” Her voice was choked, blocked, but she forced out the word.

Sidney blew out a breath and patted her hair. Hanna tried not to wince when Sidney found the tender spot where Hanna had hit her head on the car door as she fell out. She was still finding tender spots, hours after her ordeal.

But even though she tried to mask her flinch, Sidney noticed it.

“Oh, Hanna.” Even in the shadows, she could see her sister's face puddle up. A hot tear fell on her arm.

“Sidney. What is it?” Sidney didn't answer, but more tears fell. “What?” Hanna sat up, took her sister's face in her hands and angled her face to the sliver of light from the door. “Why are you crying?”

Sidney's eyes widened as her gaze fell on Hanna's face. She traced yet another tender spot with her thumb. “Oh God. What did he do to you?”

Hanna frowned. “We had a disagreement. There was a . . . scuffle. That's all.”

“He's such a jerk.”

“Yes.” Hanna swallowed a laugh at her sister's outrage. “He is.”

“It's all my fault, isn't it?”

Hanna's heart lurched. “No. No. It isn't. This thing with Zack, it was doomed from the start, I think.”

“Pfft.” Sidney blew out a breath. “That's not what I meant. I'm glad you're not marrying him. But when I planned this party . . . I never intended for it to end like this. He . . . hurt you. I'm . . . so sorry.”

How difficult it must have been for her to say that. Sidney never apologized. “It's okay, Sidney,” she said, pulling her sister into a hug. “It'll all be okay.”

Sidney pulled back and studied Hanna again. Her lips firmed. “Well, you're right about one thing.”

“Hmm? What's that?”

She blew out a breath. “You probably shouldn't come downstairs right now. If Logan sees what Zack did to you, we'd have a murder on our hands.”

***

It seemed to take forever for Sidney to come back down; she returned just as Henry removed the warmed-up chili from the microwave and gave each bowl a stir.

“How is she?” he asked in a low tone.

Sidney flinched, and then forced a shrug. “She's fine.”

“Did you tell her I'm here?”

“Yeah.” The look in her eye was not promising. “She doesn't want to see you.” His heart sank. His desolation must have shown on his face, because Sidney patted his shoulder. “She doesn't want to see anyone. She's been through . . . quite a lot. She just needs some time.”

Hell. Time.

He didn't want to give her time. He wanted to march up there and yank her into his arms and hold her. But he had to honor her wishes.

Damn it all.

How much time, he wondered, did she need? A day? A week? More?

“Here we go,” Henry crowed as he carried the bowls to the table, setting one in front of each of them. “This will put hair on your chest.”

Sidney rolled her eyes and went to make a sandwich as the rest of them took their seats at the Stevens' kitchen table to eat bowls of chili and cornbread and chat, as though nothing had happened.

Logan took a bite of chili. His eyes started to water. Say what you like about Henry Stevens, but he made a mean bowl of chili. Logan wheezed and grabbed a glass of water.

Henry smiled and nodded. “Good, huh? This recipe won the state fair six years running.”

“It's hideous, Dad,” Sidney muttered, biting into her peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. She leaned across the table and hissed at Logan, “You can expect nuclear farts tomorrow.”

He choked on his cornbread.

“Well, I love it hot,” Cody said as he reached the bottom of his bowl. Cody had a cast-iron stomach. Always had. “Too bad you can't can this up. You'd make your fortune . . .” And, because Cody was a clueless idiot, he added. “And then Hanna wouldn't have to marry Zack.”

Silence crackled around the table.

Henry sighed. “Well, she's not marrying him.”

Logan's head came up so hard he bit his tongue. “What?”

She wasn't marrying Zack.

She was free.

Exhilaration danced through his soul.

He did not know from whence it came. He had no claim on her, other than a couple steamy nights at a raunchy bachelorette party. But he couldn't deny that, at that moment, hope burned bright.

She wasn't his—not by a long shot—but she wasn't Zack's either.

“They called it off.”

“He did? Or did she?” Why it mattered, he couldn't be sure.

“She said it was, ahem, a mutual thing.” Henry glanced into the sitting room where his wife stared at the television that had long since been turned off. “Don't know what we'll do, but it hardly matters. I would never let a man like that marry my daughter. Not a man who treats her in such a fashion.”

The little hairs at Logan's nape bristled. “Treats her in what fashion?”

Henry flushed and fiddled with his napkin. “Well . . . He didn't bring her home. He let her walk . . . Why, if I were ten years younger . . .”

Hanna's father rambled on, but Logan had lost the thread of the conversation. His mind spun.

She was free.

She deserved to follow her heart. Not be led by purse strings. If he was going to have any kind of future with her—and he was determined he would—he wanted it to be on her terms.