Lenora Worth - Logan's Child

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Logan's Child: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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AT LONG LAST, JOYDebutante Trixie Dunaway was the darling of Dallas, the belle of the ball. She lived in a golden carefree world. Or so it seemed. For, like grains of sand, painful secrets wore away Trixie's soul. Her youthful infatuation with rebel Logan Maxwell had torn her apart. She'd been forced to abandon the beloved man–and her precious baby–forever.But now, years later, rugged Logan stood before her, a darling child at his side. Was this reunion a mirage or a miracle? Was God giving her a second chance? And could aching sorrow yield a pearl beyond price?Welcome to Love Inspired™–stories that will lift your spirits and gladden your heart. Meet men and women facing the challenges of today's world and learning important lessons about life, faith and love.

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Trixie looked at him then, her blue eyes a perfect match to her fashionable outfit, her cool attitude a perfect example of his notion of all she represented. He had no way of knowing she was a bundle of nerves and that sweat moistened the crisp cotton of her button-up blouse. He had no way of knowing that she was thinking this would be one of the hardest weeks of her life.

“Does Logan make you all work this hard every day?” Trixie asked Marco a couple of hours later.

They stood inside the hog pen, filling a trough with fresh water for the many sows and what looked like thousands of squealing, pink-nosed piglets. In spite of the chaos of animals and teenagers, the place was neat and tidy. The tightly wired fences stretched in symmetric order across the expanse of the paddock, and the animals looked healthy and well fed, their stalls full of fresh hay and clean, cool water.

Trixie only hoped she hadn’t mixed up too many piglets when they’d moved the babies and cleaned the stalls earlier. How was she supposed to know which pig went with which sow, anyway? “That man put me in here on purpose. Well, we’ll show him, huh, Marco?” That is, if she hadn’t orphaned some poor piglet already.

Marco grinned, his black eyes squinting together as he stared up at his new blond-haired friend. “We call him the pigmeister,” he said, his words meant for her ears only. “Mr. Logan wants us to learn responsibility,” he added, his tone changing to somber as he reconsidered calling his boss/foster parent a derogatory name.

Trixie smiled down at the youngster. He was really sweet, if not somewhat street-wise. As were all of the half dozen children staying here. They ranged in age from sixteen to seven, from what she could tell. Kind of a patchwork family of personalities. And each one had a story to tell. Being a captive audience, she’d listened all morning, her heart opening with each child’s tale.

Abusive parents or no parents at all, truancy charges, and some more severe charges, such as petty theft and robbery, colored each story and quickly, effectively turned her apathy into sympathy. These children needed some firm guidance in their young lives. She was proud of her father, and Logan, for providing it.

Now, she grinned back at Marco. “Mr. Logan seems like a tough taskmaster to me, but I guess it builds character, huh?”

“That’s what he tells us when we whine,” Marco said, giggling as several thirsty sows bumped each other to get to the fresh, cool water. “Only, Miss Trixie, we don’t have to work all day long. As long as we do our assigned chores and attend the Bible study classes, we get free time each day.”

“Great,” Trixie replied, the sweat beading on her forehead making her wish she had some free time right about now. She was wilted and sweaty, not socialite material at all. “And what do you and your friends do for fun?”

“We head down to the swimming hole,” Marco said before running away to take care of more important pig business.

“That sounds like heaven,” Trixie said to a pinkeyed sow who wanted first dibs on the water supply. Trixie obligingly moved out of the six-hundred pound animal’s path, her eyes scanning the pen for Logan. He’d pushed her through the gates, told her to follow Marco’s instructions, then had conveniently left.

As she stood there, wondering what the sharply dressed, sharp-minded women of the Metroplex Marketing Professionals would think of her now, she had to laugh. Right this very minute she didn’t care what anyone thought. She was dirty and smelly and sweaty, and her white leather sandals would never be the same, but it felt kind of good to be back out in the thick of things—as long as she watched where she stepped.

Shaking her head, she grinned down at the thirsty sows. “Hold on, ladies, there’s plenty of water for everyone.”

“You’re having way too much fun,” Logan said from behind her, echoing her thoughts precisely.

Her grin turned into a grimace as the wind shifted. Giving him a level, daring look, she said, “Did you expect me to burst into tears and beg you to come in here and rescue me?”

“That would have been the highlight of my day,” he said as he stepped through the gate and. stalked toward her, a look of grudging admiration on his face. He should have known she’d rather die than give in to him. Trixie had always enjoyed a good challenge. Well, he wasn’t quite finished with her just yet. “Looks like you’ve done a passable job here. Ready to move on to worming sheep?”

Trixie turned off the water hose, then stared across the trough at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. Has to be done, and as always, we could use an extra hand. You get your choice of which end you want to hold, though.”

Her groan echoed out over the squeals and grunts of the hogs and pigs. “Logan, need I remind you that I’m still officially your boss? I think I’d just like a shower, then a tour of the ranch and a thorough report on the operation. And I think you’ve had enough fun at my expense for one day.”

He watched her, his gaze rich with an unreadable emotion before he became glib again. “Testy, aren’t you? What’s the matter, Tricia Maria, break a nail or something?”

Swaying against the bumps of the sows, Trixie glared over at him. “Okay, I’ve had enough. I did what you asked—I hung out in the pig pen. And I don’t mind lending a hand, but I won’t stand around and take orders from you just so you can enjoy watching me make a fool of myself.”

Logan quit smiling then, his expression hardening. “Why not? You certainly made me look like a fool all those years ago.”

“Oh, is that what this is all about?” she asked, her hands on her hips as she leaned toward him. “You weren’t the only one hurt by our brief encounter, Logan. I certainly paid a high price for my one indiscretion.”

He inched closer, nudged by grunting snouts. “Oh, did you, now? Funny, I don’t see it that way. You seemed to have bounced back pretty quickly, from what I’ve heard.”

“And just what did you hear?” she asked, her breath stopping. Was he suspicious, or just being cruel?

“Your daddy kept tabs on you, Trixie. College, parties, the good life. You picked right up where you left off.” He turned quiet, his eyes scanning her face. “I was just…a minor distraction while you slummed with the ranch hands.”

His words hurt more than she’d allow him to see. Coming toward him, she tried to pass by, but his hand on her arm and the many grunting sows urging her forward only brought her straight into his arms. Trying to steady her, Logan held her with both hands now.

She looked up into a set of eyes as rich and deep and centered as the mountains behind them. “Is that really how you see me, Logan? As some socialite who used you, then dumped you?”

“Didn’t you?”

Tears pricked at her eyes, but she refused to show him her pain. And she certainly couldn’t tell him the truth. “How can you even think that? I didn’t have any other choice. I had to go back to Dallas.”

“Did you really? I think you had several choices, Trixie.”

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