Kathie DeNosky - Rich, Rugged Ranchers

“Make that two Number Threes,” Luke said with a sigh, “and two beers.”

“No beer for me,” Sophia said. “I’ll have water.”

The waitress made a mental note.

“You’d best bring three glasses of ice water then, for starters,” Ward said, looking a bit concerned. “Those habaneros will drain the last ounce of moisture from your mouth.”

“Sure, I’ll be back with waters, beer and two Number Threes.” The waitress moved on and Sophia found herself facing Logan directly across the booth.

It wasn’t a hard picture, seeing the two Slade cowboys sitting side by side. They had similar good looks. The biggest difference was that Luke’s eyes were blue, like his mother’s, and his hair was a sandy color, rather than Logan’s dark brown. But the men were worlds apart in personality traits.

Luke inclined his head toward Sophia. “Beer might have quenched your thirst better.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Ever?” Luke asked, looking a little astonished. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t possibly know,” she said quietly, holding in her anguish. Luke didn’t know everything there was to know about the grown-up woman she’d become, unlike Logan, who thought he knew everything about her. “My father was an alcoholic,” she explained, “and I’ve never found a taste for the stuff. It’s my way of rebelling.”

Not that she felt obligated to give a reason, but her father’s story was a constant reminder of the pitfalls and fragile nature of the human spirit and she especially wanted Logan to understand that her life hadn’t been all peaches and cream. His family didn’t have a monopoly on heartache. Despite being married to a loving beautiful woman, Sophia’s father had left her mother with a three-year-old child to raise. As an adult it was still pretty hard for her to rationalize his actions, though she’d tried hard to work through being fatherless most of her life. Alberto Montrose chose a love affair with liquor that ultimately ruined him. The last Sophia had heard, which was more than ten years ago, her father had been seen wandering the streets of San Francisco, ragged and homeless. Liquor was his wife, child, addiction and downfall, all rolled up into one.

“Enough said,” Luke announced, wearing a compassionate expression. “Water is underrated anyway.”

“Yeah, you can’t live without it,” Ward offered needlessly.

Logan chuckled, and sipped his beer, watching her as if she were a spectacle. “Your stomach’s gonna rebel in a few minutes.”

This time Luke wasn’t disagreeing. “You’re in for it, Sophia. But you always were a daredevil. That much I do know.”

“Me? What about wrestling bucking broncos for five years of your life?”

“Six,” Ward and Luke said in unison.

“And I wasn’t wrestling with them, darlin’. I rode them for nine seconds at a time.”

“Most times, it was five seconds in the saddle, and the rest of the time on the ground, eating the horse’s dust,” Logan offered, happy to give Luke a bad time.

“Eating dust may be easier than eating Number Threes.”

Sophia gave the men an eye-roll and shook her head. “I will consider myself properly warned by all three of you. I promise you I’ll hold my own.”

She moved her long hair to one shoulder and shuffled in her seat, adjusting to the booth’s cushion to get more comfortable. Logan watched her movements, his gaze flicking over her body until their eyes finally met in a daring stare. A hot sprinkle of desire spread through her belly like warm sugar. For the slightest pinch of time, Sophia spotted a glimmer of admiration in his eyes for what she was about to do. Which, in her estimation, wasn’t all that admirable. She would eat a bowl of Kickin’ chili. How hard would that be?

And in that moment, no matter how much she hated to admit it, she saw Logan in a different light. She saw him as someone who could match her spirit, someone she might enjoy being around and someone who could fill the gaping void threatening to swallow her up. A shell that no one, not even a wonderful man like Luke, could ever fill.

“What the hell?” Ward jerked in his seat and all heads turned his way. “Pardon me, miss.” Apology touched his eyes as he briefly glanced at her, before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. “Darn vibrating thing. Always shocks the vinegar outta me.”

Logan’s short laugh flashed a smile that cut deep ridges into each side of his mouth. Sophia took a quick breath and focused on Ward rather than allow that warm-sugar sensation to spread any further. She reminded herself that Logan hated her.

Ward glanced at the phone’s screen. “It’s a call from Hunter. He wouldn’t be calling if it weren’t important.”

Logan said, “Go ahead and answer it, Ward.”

Ward spoke to his son, nodding his head and saying “uh-huh, uh-huh,” about half a dozen times. He finished his conversation with, “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

Ward set the phone back into his pocket as he spoke. “My boy needs help at the ranch. Skylar is foaling early. He’s thinking it’s gonna be a difficult delivery. Luke, she’s your favorite mare. You coming with me?”

Ward rose from his seat. Luke did, too, blinking away the fear on his face. “Yeah, I’d better see to her.”

From what Sophia gathered, no one on the ranch knew more about horses than Luke. He had a natural way with them. Even Ward, Sunset Ranch’s head wrangler, seemed to look to Luke for help.

“Sorry, Soph. I’ve got to go. We almost lost her last time she foaled.”

“Okay, I understand,” Sophia said, grabbing her clutch purse, “I’ll go with you.”

“No,” Luke said. “You stay and eat your dinner. I know you’re hungry. Your meal is coming.”

“But I, uh—” Sophia looked from Logan’s unreadable expression to Luke. “I don’t have to—”

“For Pete’s sake, woman,” Logan said with a shake of the head. “I won’t bite. Ward can drive to the ranch with Luke. I’ll take you home later. After you eat your Number Three.”

“But—”

“Are you chickening out again?”

“No!”

“Okay, then.” Logan slid his brother a reassuring look. “You go on. Don’t worry about anything but saving Skylar and her foal.”

“Play nice,” Luke said, pointing his finger at Logan.

“Get outta here,” Logan said, grabbing for his beer with a casual shrug, as if to say he didn’t have anything to worry about.

Luke didn’t budge. “Logan.”

“Damn it, you have my word.”

Finally satisfied, Luke nodded. “Fair enough. I’m sorry, Sophia,” Luke said. “But Logan will get you home safely. I’ve really gotta run.”

Ward had already excused himself and was waiting for Luke by the entranceway. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I only hope it goes well for the mare.” Luke met up with Ward and the two men exited the café in a hurry. And just like that, Sophia found herself alone with Logan Slade.

He was stuck with Sophia for the rest of the night. Hell, a man could do much worse than entertaining a gorgeous woman with a killer body for the evening. She was a damn sight better to look at than the antique cast-iron pots and pans hanging on the wall. A damn sight more appealing than rusted tricycles and red wagons that littered the shelves circling the perimeter of the café. She sure had every man in the joint giving her the eye and giving him a solid way-to-go look as they scanned the booth. Logan would be on his best behavior tonight. Not because he’d eased up on his thinking about Sophia, but because he’d given his brother his word. For Luke’s sake, Logan would treat Sophia kindly.

After a long minute of silence, she asked, “Do you think the mare will be okay?”