forever? The opportunity came and I took it. I have to move on at some point. We both do.â
Her argument was sane and sensible. The kind he should agree with and understand. But he couldnât bring himself to accept it.
Logan palmed the steering wheel roughly and took a right turn onto the long dirt drive of Raintree Ranch. He lifted his foot from the pedal as the truck dipped into a pothole, sloshing muddy water against the sides of the cab. Fragmented patches of white speckled Raintreeâs sprawling fields. The late-afternoon sun that had melted most of the ice hung low on the horizon and night loomed closer with every minute.
Amyâs pants legs rustled as she sat taller, craning her neck and looking out at their surroundings. Logan took the next turn through a gated entrance and she braced her hands on the dash, swiveling to glance over her shoulder at Raintreeâs wooden sign as they passed. The sweet scent of her shampoo released with her movements, lingering around him and making him ache.
They traveled past the large stables, barn and paddocks lined with white fencing and the multi-storied main house emerged into view. Logan smiled. The white columns and wide front porch were already adorned with garlands, wreaths and bows for the holidays. Betty must have decided to decorate early for Amyâs return.
A tender expression crossed Amyâs features. Loganâs chest warmed. No matter what she said, Amy had missed Raintree. Her longing for their childhood home showed in every sweet curve of her face.
âIt still looks the same,â she said.
The gentle look in her eyes faded as the truck drew closer to the house. Her mouth tightened. She eased back in the passenger seat, shoulders sagging.
âNothingâs changed.â Amy trailed her hands away from the dashboard and dropped them in her lap, fingers twisting together.
A heaviness settled in Loganâs arms. âYes, it has. Everything has been different since you left. For all of us.â He covered her smaller hands with his palm and squeezed. âPlease think this move over. Before you make a final decision.â
She slid away from his touch. âThe decisionâs already been made.â Her voice lowered to a whisper. âItâs for the best.â
âAmyââ
âThe twins are out,â Traci shouted over her music, perking up and dragging her feet from the console.
Logan released a harsh sigh, bringing the truck to a halt and removing the keys from the ignition. Two blond boys scrambled over the ground at the end of the drive, gathering up what was left of the sleet and packing it into muddy balls.
âHide everything you value and get your armor on, Amy,â Traci said, yanking out her earbuds and shoving them along with her cell phone into her bag.
âAre they that bad?â Amy asked, a hesitant smile peeking through her tight expression.
Logan grinned. âNah. Theyâre just being boys.â
âYeah, right,â Traci drawled. âTell me that the next time they break my phone. Or take my bras and use them for slingshots. Or draw plans for their fort on my homeworkââ
âAll right, Traci.â He laughed, muscles relaxing. âI know theyâve done you wrong a time or two but they do it with love.â
Traci harrumphed and shoved her door open.
âThatâs one warped way to look at it,â she grumbled good-naturedly, jumping out and taking swift strides up the dirt drive.
The boys noticed Traci approaching and stilled. A huddle, quick whisper and nod later, they advanced, surrounding her and pelting her with their icy bundles.
âStop it, squirts,â Traci squealed, âor Iâll smooch you into oblivion.â
Traci swooped down with open arms, bag flopping over one shoulder, and chased them. One twin escaped but she caught the other, scooping up the wriggling boy and plastering noisy kisses all over his
Dawne Prochilo, Dingbat Publishing, Kate Tate