AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She walked into the parlor, leaving the door ajar behind her. Logan followed. He could tell that she was still upset with his decision to side with Webb and buy the ranch. But that shouldn’t give her cause to treat him like the enemy.
“We need to talk, Kristin,” he said.
“All right. Have a chair. You’ve got until my next patient shows up.” She motioned him to an armchair while she perched on the arm of the sofa. The room was plain but tasteful, with leather seating and a Persian rug on the floor. Her framed medical license hung next to the door of the surgery. A set of shelves held an assortment of classic children’s books and medical texts. On the coffee table—
Logan swallowed his surprise. On the low table, in a glass vase, were six fresh, perfect pink roses. As far as he knew, roses like that only grew in one place—the flower bed below the porch of the Calder mansion, where Webb’s mother, Lorna, had planted them.
Logan felt his heart drop—but for no reason, he reminded himself. He had no claim on Kristin Dollarhide. He was in no position to court any woman. He was still mourning his lost family and building his ranch. Webb, on the other hand, was free to wed again if he chose. And as his bride, Kristin would step into a world of luxury and power. Maybe Webb had already asked her. Maybe she’d already said yes. But that was none of his damned business.
“You never came around to get your wound checked,” she said.
“The wound had healed. My wrist was fine, too. I saw no need for it. And I wasn’t sure I’d be welcomed.”
“Being welcomed has nothing to do with it. You were my patient—for all your being ‘a Calder at heart,’ as Webb put it.”
“My decision had nothing to do with being a Calder. I bought the ranch because it fit my plans. And if you’ve talked to your brother, you know that we’ve made an arrangement for his use of the road. No matter what you think, Webb doesn’t own me.”
But does he ownyou?
Logan bit back the question. He’d be damned if he was going to ask her about her relationship with Webb—or about that vase of roses, which he was tempted to pick up and hurl out the front door. He needed to leave before he made a fool of himself.
He stood. “Where do I find that auto of yours? In the shed, did you say?”
“Yes. The tank’s full and it ran fine the last time I drove it. Ezra’s mother should be home. But if she isn’t, let somebody know. I don’t want him left alone.”
Her moist lips trembled slightly. Logan imagined kicking the flowers off the table, sweeping her into his arms, and devouring that soft, firm mouth with kisses.
But it was no more than a fleeting thought. She was Webb’s woman, and he didn’t need that kind of trouble. Opening his wallet, he withdrew a generous handful of bills. When she didn’t reach out to take them, he laid them on the table. “That should cover the charges for now. I’ll start the auto and bring it around,” he said. Then he turned and strode out the door.
* * *
As the door closed, Kristin exhaled the breath she’d held too long in her body. She’d noticed the way Logan’s gaze had fixed on the roses, and she’d half expected him to question her about them. To her relief, he hadn’t.
Webb’s cook had dropped off the flowers that morning on her way to do some errands in town. They were from Webb, of course, and they’d come with an attached note in a sealed envelope. At the time, she’d been busy with young Lester and his head wound, so she’d tucked the envelope in the pocket of her white lab coat. She’d hesitated to put the roses on display. But they were so pretty, she’d resolved to leave them out for the enjoyment of her patients.
Now she took the envelope out of her pocket and ran her finger beneath the flap to open it. Inside was a single sheet of paper with a brief message.
Dinner at the Roadhouse tonight. I’ll pick you up at 7:30. Wear something pretty.
Kristin replaced the note with a sigh. It was like Webb to make plans without consulting her and expect her to go along with them. But dinner at the Roadhouse was an even bigger concern. Unless she could talk Webb out of going there, it would mean taking their slow-budding relationship public. Everyone in the popular dining establishment would see them together, and the talk would spread like a prairie wildfire. A Calder and a Dollarhide keeping company. What a delicious tidbit of gossip. And Blake—Kristin didn’t even want to imagine what her brother would say.
She wasn’t ready for this.
Since home telephone service had yet to reach this part of Montana, she had no easy way to contact Webb at the ranch. She could only hope to talk sense into him when he showed up on her doorstep tonight.
Sooner or later, she knew, their friendship would come to a crossroads, and he would demand more than she was ready to give. But right now, the sound of the Model T pulling up in front of the house reminded her that she had more urgent concerns.
Stepping into the surgery, she found Ezra sitting up on the table. He was pale and unsteady, but when she checked his vitals, Kristin judged him stable enough to rest at home. She could stop by and check on the young man tomorrow.
* * *
When Logan knocked on the front door, Kristin let him in and helped him get Ezra to the car. They said little except for the brief, polite exchanges essential to the situation. Remembering their easy closeness the night she’d slept beside him in the Calder house, Kristin couldn’t help feeling that a door had closed between them—one that might never open again.
Perhaps he’d recognized Webb’s roses. But nothing could be done about that now.
As the Model T drove away, Kristin went back inside to find Gerda collapsed on the sofa, sobbing her heart out.
“What is it, Gerda?” Kristin leaned over the girl, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about Ezra. He’ll need to wear a cast for a couple of months but after that, he’ll be as good as new.
