She held out a hand. “Nick, would you like to come with me? I need to gather some eggs.”
With a whoop of delight, Nick grasped her fingers then pulled her out the back door away from the two men in the kitchen. Blossom could understand that. How many times had her father rejected her, or hastened to correct something she’d done wrong? Ken had taken that to another level.
This was not a happy situation either. Apparently, she and the bison baby weren’t the only ones who irritated Logan.
Why feel drawn to a man she couldn’t trust and might easily fear? A man who didn’t seem to connect with his own son?
* * *
“WHAT THE HELL’S wrong with you?” Grey asked as soon as the back door had closed behind Blossom and Nicky.
Frowning, Logan didn’t answer. His throat felt too tight to speak, and what could he say? He wanted to be angry with Grey because he’d had no warning of this visit—a rare thing these days. Instead of a heads-up, he’d walked from the barn to the house and into this kitchen, and there was Nicky. Right where he’d belonged until a few years ago.
As a baby in his high chair, a toddler running around under Libby’s feet, a chattering three-year-old who’d let everyone in the house know his opinions, he’d giggled and cried in this very room and even thrown temper tantrums, kicking his legs on the floor as if he were determined to be in charge of all the adults. He’d banged a spoon against his tray at the end of this table, flinging oatmeal everywhere.
Logan was still in shock. He watched Grey pull out a chair at the table. He’d been blindsided, yet at the same time...he didn’t often get to see Nicky. Grey sat, eyeing him with disapproval, which Logan supposed he deserved.
“I thought you’d be happy to see him without Olivia riding herd on him.”
Logan couldn’t fault her for trying to coddle Nicky or to keep him safe, even keep him away from Logan, after what had happened. In her view he hadn’t been much of a father, and Logan couldn’t disagree.
“I am happy to see him.” Except it hurts more each time I do. Logan was missing out on Nicky’s growing up. His son changed by the day, it seemed, and a few minutes ago a real kid, not the newborn baby or toddler imp he remembered, had walked into the house. “But Olivia—Libby’s—gonna be madder than a bull in a rodeo ring when she finds out you shanghaied Nicky and brought him over here. You know how she feels about the Circle H.” About me.
But what if she hadn’t come to hate the ranch, and him? To blame him? Maybe they’d still be rubbing along, raising their son in Wichita together as they’d planned. Instead, Logan’s time with Nicky had become increasingly rare. He’d tried to tell himself maybe that was for the best. For now. He didn’t want to confuse Nicky any more than he must already be after the divorce.
Grey stretched out his legs and stared down at his boots. “It’s time she changed her mind. But I’m the first to admit, my sister can be as stubborn as a too-big calf trying to get born.”
As stubborn as me. That had been one problem between them.
“She won’t change her mind.”
“Then you’ll have to change yours. Logan, the divorce papers got signed, what, three years ago? Nick’s not a baby anymore. He needs his daddy, too.”
“Libby got custody,” he said. And because of the reason she’d left him, Logan hadn’t given her much of a fight. He’d regretted that ever since. Once his promotion came through—which meant getting back to Wichita as soon as possible—he’d be able to afford a lawyer, sue for joint custody this time. Settle the matter at last.
“You have visitation rights. Why don’t you use ’em more often?”
He looked away. “Well, she doesn’t make that easy. If Nicky doesn’t have a school event, a kids’ party, anywhere else he has to be, then he’s sick or it’s a school night or something else. He hasn’t been to my place in Wichita in almost a year. Besides, I won’t be here long this time.”
Grey shook his head. “You might try reestablishing a relationship with your kid before he leaves home at eighteen.”
“That wouldn’t please Libby either.” And he wouldn’t share his plans with Grey, who might tip her off before he was ready to take her back to court. “I won’t see Nicky used in a game of ping-pong between us.”
Grey pushed back from the table. “How long are you two going to battle because of that crazy storm? It’s not as if there isn’t at least one blizzard every winter or a flood out here in spring sometimes, and you always made it through.” His jaw hardened. “I can’t believe you’re still blaming yourself. Even the emergency crews couldn’t get through.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Logan would never forget the helplessness he’d felt then, the fear. Never again. Not on his watch.
When the rains had hit, Nicky was already sick. Then he’d spiked a high fever. You have to get him to the hospital, Libby had pleaded with him by phone because Logan had been in Wichita. And the long driveway to the ranch, always a washout in such storms, was impassible. Trapped at the house...
“He had pneumonia, it turned out. Nicky could have died.”
“But he didn’t,” Grey pointed out. “How many times do I need to tell you and Libby he’s a tough little kid?” With a faint smile, he gestured. “You should have seen him climb that cupboard today.” He paused. “He was after his dinosaur mug in the upper cabinet. He doesn’t have the same bad memories you and Libby do of this place, Logan.”
She’d left the Circle H a few days later, just gathered up all her things and Nicky’s, his toys and games, and moved out. Her first stop had been Grey’s adjacent ranch, which sat at the crossroads much closer to the main road. It didn’t have the same long driveway the Circle H did, but she hadn’t stayed there long either before she’d rented a house in town.
“What do you want from me? I’m paying support. I meet my obligation every month—and risk my neck to do it, not that I don’t love flying,” he added. He wished it was that simple. “Libby hasn’t lacked for anything. Neither has Nicky.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”
Logan merely gazed at him.
The pain inside squeezed, hard again. “Know what she told me the last time we spoke? She said Nicky has her, and Nicky has you. And that’s all he needs. She doesn’t want him here, Grey, and she doesn’t want me...there.”
“In town or at my ranch? I own Wilson Cattle. I’m the boss there, not Libby—even when she still has a family share.” He shifted. “Man, you and I go back a long way, and my sister doesn’t tell me who my friends are. You’re welcome anytime. You know that.”
Logan stared at the floor, his throat closed. You and Nicky are welcome here, too, he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Grey stood up. “I guess you both like it this way then, huh? You know what? This reminds me of my own childhood. I was shuttled between my parents after their divorce like some bag of laundry—a piece of property.”
“I know, Grey. I don’t like this either.”
He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry I stopped by. You were right. All I’ve done is give Nick a hundred questions to keep asking, and now I’ll have Libby yelling at me.”
“Grey.”
His friend held up a hand as if to ask for a truce. And changed the subject.
“By the way. That pretty woman in this kitchen when we got here—Blossom-something?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you ignore those ratty clothes and the startled deer-in-the-headlights look, she’s—I mean, what’s that all about?”
“I wouldn’t