Amy winced and looked down. The long sweep of her hair cascaded over her shoulders, hiding her face.
“I was still a kid,” she whispered.
“You were sixteen. Had that beautiful hair and flirty grin. And I knew you were lying.” He reached out, brushing her hair back and rubbing the strands between his fingers. “It caught me by surprise. I’d only ever thought of you as a friend and was under the impression you felt the same way about me.” His gut churned. “I remember wishing you’d shift that attention to Dom or some other boy closer to your age. Because all I could think was...if I don’t put a stop to this, I’m not just gonna lose my best friend, I’m gonna break this girl’s heart.”
She glanced up, gorgeous green eyes welling.
“And, damn me to hell, Amy,” he choked, “that’s exactly what I did.”
She shook her head and placed her palm to his jaw. “You tried to let me down easy. I know it had to be awkward for you, and you did your best to set me straight over the years.”
“My best wasn’t good enough.”
“You tried. That’s the important thing,” she said, looking away. “What happened later was my fault. And none of it matters now.”
His throat tightened, heart bleeding for her. For the innocent girl she’d been. And the guarded woman she’d become. He lifted his hands, cradling her cheeks and dropping gentle kisses across her face.
He may have made mistakes by eventually giving in to Amy. By not keeping his distance. But when he’d learned of the pregnancy, he’d chosen to marry her despite the fact that she’d deceived him. As her husband, it’d been his job to protect her and he’d failed her. His throat closed. It’d been his job as Sara’s father to protect her, too.
Sara.
Logan froze. A wave of nausea swept through him, flooding his mouth. Just their daughter’s name was enough to bring the pain back. Enough to remind him of how much they’d lost.
“It doesn’t have to all be for nothing, Amy.” His voice sounded strange, even to his own ears. “However we got here, this is where we ended up. We still have a chance to build something solid. Something real.” He looked up, hating himself as much as he hated the hard glint in her eyes. “You’re not still looking for a fairy tale, are you?”
Her mouth tightened. She turned away again, gazing blankly beyond his left shoulder.
“No.”
Logan sighed. “We can make this work.”
“No. We can’t.”
Amy pulled against his hold. His hands shot out, tugging her back against him.
“Why not?” He pressed his forehead to hers. “We were best friends once and can be again. That alone will make our marriage strong. We’re good together. We proved that earlier with Thunder and just now.”
“What just happened was a mistake. One we’re not going to repeat.”
A mistake. Logan’s chest burned. “We’re still married.”
“Not for much longer.” She tossed her hair over her shoulders. “I’ve been truthful with you this time around, Logan. You knew exactly what my intentions were coming here.”
“I heard you say it. But I can’t believe it’s what you really want. Raintree is your home. Your family’s here.” He curved his hand around her jaw, her skin warm under his palm. “I’m here. I want you with me and I want this marriage to work.”
She shook her head. “Only because you feel obligated. You didn’t want to be married to me. Didn’t love me that way—”
“I cared for you.” He gathered her against his chest. “I still do. I know that doesn’t sound impressive. But love is just a word, Amy. One that people throw around as an excuse for reckless behavior.”
Logan’s mouth twisted. His mother had used it often enough. She’d said it every time she’d placed her needs before his or Dominic’s. Had whispered it when she’d wanted to manipulate Pop into giving in to another one of her selfish demands. And, eventually, had used it as an excuse to abandon her family for a richer man, shrugging off all responsibility for her actions.
Amy had used it, too. She’d said it to him over and over again after getting pregnant. As though that justified her deceiving him and trapping him into marriage.
He shook his head. “It’s just a word. A fantasy. The friendship we had was strong. It was real and my loyalty is, too. We’re a good team. Always have been.”
Her brow creased, eyes roving over his face, dull and heavy. “As good as Dom and Cissy?”
He clutched her hard and nudged a thigh between hers. “Better. We have history.”
A scornful laugh burst from her lips. “Bad history.”
“I remember the good. The rest can be forgiven.”
“And have you? Forgiven?” Her lips trembled. “And forgotten?”
He stiffened. He wished he could tell her what she wanted to hear. Ease her mind and put the light back in her eyes. But he couldn’t.
“I’m trying, Amy. We’ll try together. Take things slow. Work at forgiving and trusting each other again.”
The forgetting he wasn’t so sure about.
Her breasts lifted against him on an inhale. “Let’s just be for now. I’m tired.”
She sounded it. The husky note in her tone and heaviness in her limbs proved it.
Logan moved to his back, holding her close and trailing his fingers in wide circles over the smooth skin of her back.
“Then go to sleep,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
And he would be. Every day. He could get things right this time. Remind her how good they could be together and prove their marriage wasn’t a mistake. That their daughter hadn’t been a mistake. He owed it to Amy and they both owed it to Sara.
He shifted, bundling Amy against him and sliding beneath the covers. She drifted off before he tucked the sheet around her, hand resting over his heart and quiet breath whispering across his chest.
Logan tried to follow. Closed his eyes and tried to dream. But he couldn’t silence his thoughts. Could only continue wondering silently how Amy could be right in his arms but still feel a million miles away.
“Over this way, Amy.”
Logan tapped the brim of his Stetson lower on his brow and leaned over the fence rail. Amy stood in the center of the round pen edging around Thunder’s frantic bucks. Just as she’d been doing every day for the past three weeks with no progress to show for it.
Amy passed one palm after the other farther up the lead rope, stepping slowly across the ground toward Thunder. Logan tensed.
“Something’s off.” Dominic shifted at his side and propped a boot on a low fence rung.
“I know,” Traci said. She grabbed Dominic’s shoulder and pulled, leveraging herself up to straddle the fence. “Thunder gets more aggressive every day.”
Logan sighed. He hated to admit it but it was the truth.
Every morning for the past few days, he’d woken before dawn to find Amy gone. By the time he yanked on clothes