Once a Father. Kathleen Eagle

worries were well-founded. If it was any of Logan’s business, he’d be worried about Mrs. Tutan, too. Fortunately, his interest didn’t extend to Mary’s mother.

      “He’s gonna kill her.”

      Aw, jeez. “Let’s go back and get her.”

      “She won’t leave him. I’ve tried to.” His foot on the brake changed her tune. “I don’t mean he’s going to kill her. I mean he’s going to be the death of her.” She met his glance with an apologetic smile. “I did say kill, didn’t I.”

      “You did.”

      “He doesn’t…no. Not literally.” She gave a humorless chuckle. “Not physically.”

      He moved his foot to the accelerator.

      “She says she just had a small heart attack,” Mary said. “What’s a small heart attack? She was only in the hospital for two days, but that doesn’t mean anything these days. Especially when her husband’s big concern is when are they gonna let her out? So that’s the only reason I came home. The main reason.”

      Casting about for a cheerful observation, he smiled at the road ahead. “Now you have a project on the side.”

      “Good way to keep busy while I’m here.” “Good way to show your father what you’re made of.”

      “I know exactly what I’m made of, and that’s all that counts. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

      “How many tours?”

      “In the Middle East? Two.”

      He acknowledged her dedication with a raised brow. He’d spent time in the Sandbox, but it had been more than twenty years ago. It had to be tougher these days. It just went on and on, tour after tour for a lot of guys, no end in sight.

      A lot of guys?

      “I don’t mind,” she was saying. “I love my work.”

      “What kind of dogs do you train?”

      “All kinds. Trackers, sniffers, sentries. Lately I’ve been coaching Iraqi dog handlers, helping them build their own canine units.” She angled her knees in his direction. He’d hit her sweet spot. “I couldn’t have a horse when I was growing up, but we had cattle dogs. I learned a lot from them.”

      That sounded promising. “And you rode Sally’s horses.”

      “As often as I could.”

      He nodded. “It’s been a while since I had a dog. My sons always had at least one dog around, sometimes one each.”

      “How many children do you have?” She sounded a little tentative. Disappointed, maybe. She hadn’t figured on kids.

      “They’re not children.” If that helps any. “Trace and Ethan are in their twenties.”

      “You don’t look old enough to have kids that age. You must’ve started young.”

      “As young as I could.” He flashed her a wry smile. “I married a family. The boys were half-grown, and I was half-kid. Well, maybe not half, but it was a good mix to start with. We had some good times together.” He lifted one shoulder. “We’re all on our own now. Full-grown. Divorced. Footloose and…what’s the other thing?”

      “Fancy free,” she quipped, joining him in some irony of her own. “Where is everybody?”

      “No idea where their mother is. She cut out early. Left the boys with me.”

      “What about their father?” She sounded suitably indignant on her new partner’s behalf. Logan appreciated loyalty.

      It was almost a shame he had to set her straight. Try to, anyway.

      “I’m their father. I adopted them, gave them my name. They both go by Wolf Track. Their mother left a picture of her, uh…one of the men. Ethan tried to look him up, but I don’t think he got anywhere. The other one…” He glanced at her as he turned onto the gravel approach to the Double D. He’d already said more than he usually did, but the look in her eyes invited more. And, what the hell… “Who knows? She never talked about her past. One of those livin'-in-the-moment people. I liked that about her right up until she was here one moment and gone the next.” “She just…left?”

      “Yep. Said she’d come back for the boys and never did.”

      She didn’t look too shocked. Didn’t look pitying or superior, wasn’t taking him for a saint or a sucker. Maybe she was just taking him for the way he was.

      “That must’ve been hard,” she said. “Never knowing what was going to happen if she came back.”

      “She wasn’t taking those boys, no matter what. Not after…” He smiled as he parked the pickup next to a paddock holding a handful of horses. “You’re good at stealing bases, you know that? I never answer questions on the first date.”

      “This is hardly a date.”

      “That’s right.” He cocked his finger and gave her a wink. “I picked you up.”

      The man winked at her. Winked. All right, it was kind of cute, but what was he thinking? Mary hadn’t been winked at since…never? She didn’t remember anybody winking at her. It made her feel downright giddy. Of course, she’d hidden it.

      Well, except for a little smile.

      Hoolie Hoolihan emerged from the bunkhouse and ambled across the graveled quad that was surrounded by outbuildings and corrals. Hoolie was a true cowboy—unchanging, ageless, loyal as an old soldier. As far as Mary knew, he’d always been part of Double D. He greeted her with a proper pull on the brim of his cowboy hat before shaking Logan’s hand, tucking thumbs in his belt and commenting on the need for some rain. The visitors chimed in as they drifted toward the corral. As though they’d been cued, the horses suddenly took to the far corner like a flight of butterflies.

      “Sally’s pretty pleased with herself, gettin’ you two partnered up,” Hoolie said as he hiked one boot up to the bottom fence rail. “Which one are you taking?”

      “We’re going with Mary’s first instinct. Taking the claybank.” Logan glanced at his partner. “Right?”

      “He’s beautiful,” Mary said, basking in his approval.

      “That one’s all mustang,” Hoolie said. “No plow-horse blood in those legs.”

      Logan smiled. “That’s the way we like ‘em.” At the moment, he only had eyes for the horses.

      “I’ve got your book,” Hoolie said.

      Logan spared him an appreciative grin. “So you’re the one.”

      “The Indian way of training horses takes a lotta time, seems like.”

      “I’ve been doing it all my life,” Logan quipped. “You think you can have the horse ready in just—”

      “Oh, yeah.” Logan smiled, still watching the horses. “I don’t know if I can have Sergeant Tutan ready, but the horse is not a problem.”

      “Are you taking him to your place?” Mary asked.

      “First thing, I’m taking him back to his place. You can come if you want. Otherwise I can drop you off.”

      “His place?”

      “He’s a wild horse. His place is wild. That’s where we start.” Logan turned to Hoolie. “Can you help me cut him out?”

      “I’ll be the gate man.”

      Hoolie headed for the barn. Mary followed Logan around the front of his pickup to the empty horse trailer.

      “Where are we starting?” she asked as she watched him open the tack door and reach inside for a coiled hard-twist rope.