The Rancher's Wife. April Arrington

continued running her fingers over the sweater’s neckline. The movements remained small and graceful. Not erratic or anxious. Certainly not an action that should draw attention.

      A flush bloomed on the skin of her neck. A fraction of an inch above the tips of her fingers. Her bare fingers.

      Logan’s eyes burned. This trip was a mistake. Like so many others. There was nothing left of their marriage to salvage here. He should walk away, get back in his truck and leave. It was the sane, sensible thing to do.

      He jerked his head to the side but couldn’t force his stare to follow. It clung to the small motions of her fingers, causing the pink shade on her neck to spread and deepen to a fiery shade of red.

      Logan clenched his jaw. He’d already lost a child. Hell if he’d lose his best friend, too. The girl he remembered was still there. Buried beneath the sophisticated veneer. And he wasn’t leaving without her.

      Reaching deep into his pocket, Logan withdrew the thick wad of papers and tossed them onto the desk. They bounced, slid across the mahogany wood and drew to a precarious halt on the far edge.

      “I’m here to bring you home.”

      * * *

      LIES VARIED. Amy knew that. They could be as white as a consoling whisper. Or as dark as a secret never spoken. As a girl, she’d only lied to Logan once but it had been dark enough to follow her for years.

      Amy curled her fingers tighter into the collar of her sweater and refused to look at the papers balancing on the edge of the desk. Instead, she focused on Logan, lingering over the dark depths of his eyes, the strong line of his jaw and the sensual curve of his mouth.

      He hadn’t changed much in the four years since she’d last seen him. His lean length was still as sculpted as ever. His broad chest and shoulders were just as wide and impressive. And the familiar attire of jeans, collared shirt and boots were still the same.

      A deep rush of longing enveloped her, making her ache to reach out and wrap her arms around him. To draw him close and hold on. Just as she had so many times over the years as a friend and, eventually, as a lover.

      Dear God, she’d missed him. Missed his smile, his strength. Even his tight-lipped frowns of disappointment. Most of which had been directed at her over the years.

      Her stomach churned. Figured the one thing she’d always admired most about him was something she had never been able to possess as a girl. Something she’d always found so elusive and so foreign.

      Honor. Logan lived and breathed it. Even when it cut deep.

      Amy smiled, hoping the slight quiver of her mouth didn’t show. “I told Mom on the phone that I’d drive home as soon as I got off work today. I promised I wouldn’t miss Thanksgiving dinner this year and I won’t. I’m already packed and—” she flicked her sleeve back and glanced at her wristwatch “—it’s time to close up. I’m about to swing by my apartment, grab my bags and head out. There was no need for you to make such a long trip.”

      A muscle in his jaw jumped. His left hand moved, his thumb twisting the ring on his finger. The same one she’d slid there years ago when she was a selfish girl of nineteen. A girl who had lied and purposefully gotten pregnant with Logan’s child, knowing his honor would demand he marry her.

      The memory conjured up shame. It scorched a path from her soul through blood to muscle, then sizzled on the surface of her skin.

      There were so many things she couldn’t change. But one thing had changed. She was no longer that selfish girl. No longer reckless or relentless in her pursuit of Logan. Always pushing for more than friendship and stealing his freedom from him.

      She’d ruined his life back then. Hurt him more than she’d ever hurt anyone, and she’d never hurt him that way again.

      Amy squared her shoulders and wrapped her hands around the chair in front of her. End this fast. Make it clean and painless.

      “It may have been a while since I’ve made the drive,” she said, trying for a small laugh. “But I can manage to find my way back on my own.”

      The tight grooves marring Logan’s face deepened. She longed to reach up and smooth the lines away with her fingertips. Cup his jaw and press her forehead to his. She’d done it so many times over the years it had become second nature.

      But things were different now. She wasn’t that naive girl anymore.

      Logan moved, taking long strides across the room to reach the desk. The dark waves of his hair weren’t cut quite as short and the lines beside his mouth were deeper. But, the slight changes only enhanced his rough-hewn appeal. If possible, he was more handsome now, at twenty-eight, than he’d ever been.

      “Your mom was worried,” he said. “Betty knows it’s a long drive and she’s concerned you’ll get caught in the weather.” His mouth tightened. “I was worried, too. They’re calling for sleet. Driving in ice is dangerous. Especially when you’re not used to it.”

      “Maybe.” Amy tossed her hair over her shoulder and straightened, firming her tone. “But it’ll be a good experience for me. I need to get used to driving in extreme winter conditions.”

      Logan frowned. “Why?”

      She smiled. A real one that untied the knot in her chest.

      “I’ve accepted a job in Michigan. There’s a new insurance branch opening in Detroit and I’ll have a management position. That means higher pay and more opportunities for advancement.” She shrugged. “The winters are a lot harsher up there. Wouldn’t hurt to get a little taste of it now before I move in January.”

      “Michigan?” Logan’s frown deepened, his voice strained. “That’s damned far, Amy.”

      He cut his eyes to the window, remaining silent for a moment. The wind outside strengthened and tumbled bits of trash across the parking lot. A tree branch scraped across the glass pane, its shrill squeak breaking the silence.

      “You’ve stayed here longer than I thought you would.” Logan faced her again. “You used to say you loved Raintree. That you never wanted to live anywhere else.”

      Amy forced her features to remain blank. The only thing she’d missed as much as Logan and her family over the past four years was Raintree Ranch. Her mother and her younger sister, Traci, came to Augusta to visit every summer, but it wasn’t the same as being together at Raintree. Their childhood home had always been her safe haven.

      Even now, Amy could feel the warmth of Raintree’s spacious kitchen. See her mother flipping pancakes on a wide griddle and humming happy hymns over the stainless steel stove.

      Having secured a position at Raintree as head chef, the widowed Betty had brought her two young daughters with her to the beautiful guest ranch. And Logan’s family had welcomed them all from the moment their feet touched the dirt drive.

      As a girl, Amy had spent thousands of hours racing across Raintree’s green fields on her favorite stallions, Thunder and Lightning. She’d helped Logan deliver both foals on the same stormy day. Logan had laughed at her choice of names, but at the time it had seemed like fate to her tender heart.

      It had always surprised her how far and fast she could ride across Raintree’s acres and still have ground to cover. And the gallop back had always been just as exciting knowing Logan would be watching and waiting for her safe return. The endless acres, beautiful horses and interesting visitors had made Raintree Ranch her favorite place in the world.

      Amy had never known a more peaceful place. Until her selfish actions changed everything.

      “I said a lot of things back then,” she stated. “When I wanted something.”

      She’d wanted Logan. Marriage. A family.

      Amy swallowed hard. That dream was gone. Logan had never loved her the way she’d loved him. Pushing him into marriage had destroyed their friendship and complications from pregnancy