“Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t think it. It was just his time, that’s all.” She brought her mug to her lips.
Not saying it again, he could control. Not thinking it was another matter. A companionable silence fell as they drank their tea and coffee, and Logan had the passing thought he might be able to find some kind of peace in this cabin. With her.
But she was not for the likes of him.
Setting his empty mug on the table, he rested his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes. What if he had been just a bit faster and slid into that chair next to her at Sinner’s before Evan had? Would he belong with her now? Would he be able to lay claim to that elusive word happiness? There was no way to know if a relationship with her would have progressed that far, and he had to stop wanting something that wasn’t meant to be.
He opened his eyes. “Why did you send for me, Dani?”
She uncurled one leg and with her toes, pushed a shoebox sitting on the coffee table closer to him. He hadn’t noticed the box before, but he had noticed her toenails were painted a pale pink, though he’d tried hard not to.
Taking a hint from the way she barely touched the box, Logan gave it a wary stare. With his index finger, he lifted the lid just as a baby started to cry. He dropped the lid, he and Dani exhaling in sync. Without a word, she stood and disappeared down the hallway.
Logan considered the shoebox and decided to wait for her to return before opening it. He removed his heavy motorcycle boots, poured another cup of coffee, and checked the locks on the doors and windows. At least she had a first-rate alarm system. Whatever was going on had her spooked, and the Dani he knew didn’t scare easily.
Growing curious, he walked down the hallway and stopped at the door of a nursery. Multicolored butterfly cutouts adorned the walls of the bright-yellow room where Dani sat in a rocking chair, nursing a baby.
The air swished out of his lungs. Not even on his most dangerous missions had he feared his legs would fail to hold him up, but the picture before him threatened to bring him to his knees.
Christ, Evan, how could you go and miss seeing this?
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “You can come in.” The smile morphed into a frown. “Unless you’re the kind of man who thinks seeing a mother nurse her child is vulgar. If you are, then get lost.”
He should get lost. He should get on his bike and ride as fast and as far away from her as he could. Instead, he walked into the room, leaned against the wall near the window, and peered out. Behind the house, the yard sloped down to a briskly running creek. Beyond the creek, mountains dressed in lush green trees rose in the distance.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
“You should see it in the winter after a snowstorm.”
“I would like to,” he said softly, allowing her to believe he’d been speaking of the view.
Dani slid a pink blanket over the baby’s head and then lifted her up. Logan silently thanked her for inviting him into the room. He’d never seen a mother nurse her child. It was a sacred thing, something he would never forget.
She bounced her daughter on her knee and patted her back. Logan laughed when a loud burp echoed through the room. The baby grinned at him, showing off two tiny teeth.
“Gawh.” She waved a fist in the air.
Logan was charmed. “She has Evan’s eyes.”
“My Regan has her daddy’s hazel eyes, yes, she does,” Dani cooed, and tapped Regan on the nose, causing the baby to squeal and bounce harder.
He could spend a lifetime watching them play. Another squeal, louder than he would’ve believed a baby could make, issued from Regan’s mouth. She looked up at him with another grin, clearly very proud of herself.
Dani’s shirt was unbuttoned, the pink blanket still over her shoulder, concealing her breast. Figuring she would probably appreciate a few minutes of privacy to get herself in order, he told her he would wait for her in the living room. He commanded his unwilling feet to carry him out of the nursery.
Restless, Logan treated himself to a tour of the cabin. Beyond the kitchen was a mudroom with a door leading to the backyard. He opened three deadbolts and stepped out onto the deck. Glancing back at the house, he frowned at the French doors. All that glass was impossible to secure. From the outside, the cabin was cleverly designed to look like a two-story structure.
At the deck railing, he took in the amazing view. Seven horses of various colors grazed in a meadow beyond the creek, the mountains he’d admired earlier in the background. On his right was a vegetable garden and behind it, a garage and storage shed. On his left, beyond the recently mowed yard, was a wooded area.
Just as he started to turn to go back inside, a movement caught his gaze. Probably some kind of animal. Still, the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his instincts screamed at him to beware. He had learned long ago to trust that reaction.