Rich, Rugged Ranchers. Kathie DeNosky

else she wanted to say to him that didn’t involve business, and Sophia wasn’t in the mood to spar with him about that right now.

      Logan was used to comfort, style and the finer things in life. Even though he lived on a ranch, everything he owned, from his classic felt Stetson hat and expensive tooled-leather boots to the exquisite sprawling ranch home, was top-notch. She hadn’t missed the one-hundred-dollar tip he’d laid on the table for the waitress just minutes ago. She had gushed and tried to give it back, but Logan had insisted on her keeping it. Apparently, he had money to burn. Sophia would bet her last dollar that the designer watch he wore on his wrist cost more than her mother’s yearly salary when she’d worked at the Desert Breeze Motor Inn.

      They’d spent three years working in that dive, before Louisa had finally landed a job more suitable for her managerial skills. In many respects though, the life Sophia had with her mother was richer and worth more than any of the material possessions she could ever hope to own.

      Sophia had gotten a small taste of the good life when she’d married. Though many believed she’d married the older man for his money, Sophia had convinced her mother that she’d married for the promise of love. When in truth, neither had been true exactly.

      A sharp jolting pain twitched in her stomach. She gasped silently, holding her hands firmly in place when her initial reaction was to rub her belly. The pain was fleeting, and then it was gone. Sophia released the breath caught in her throat. She’d be okay. The chili had gone down smoothly earlier and at the time, she hadn’t had any doubts about it.

      Another jolt hit her. This time, the pain spiraled up, burning toward her rib cage. “Oh,” she breathed out as slowly and as quietly as she could, slanting a look at Logan, who was listening to the country music playing on the radio, his focus on the dark road ahead.

      The next pang hit and her body tightened up. She grabbed her clutch purse and set it onto her stomach, then slid her hand underneath it. Her fingers dug in and she tried to smooth away the rebellion going on inside.

      “Ohh.” The pain gripped her hard this time and she leaned forward and hugged her stomach with both arms. Beads of sweat moistened her forehead.

      Logan shot a glance at her. “It finally hit you?”

      She bit her lip and nodded helplessly.

      “Is it bad?”

      Again, she nodded. Perspiration trickled down the back of her neck, sticking to her hair.

      “Hang on. I’ll get you home fast.”

      Logan revved the engine and the truck roared down the highway. Minutes later they reached the gates of Sunset Ranch and Logan slowed the truck. “My house or the cottage?”

      “Take me home,” she said, wanting the comfort of her own surroundings, new as they were, but also familiar.

      The truck roared to life again and after a short time, the dimmed lamppost lights in front of the stone house came into view. Sophia thanked all things holy that she was finally home.

      Logan brought the truck to an abrupt halt. He got out, and she heard his boots on the gravel path as he approached the passenger’s side. Doubled over now, she pressed both arms against her belly, attempting to make the aching go away. Logan opened her door and when their eyes met, the stern set of his jaw softened and he cursed. “I’ll get you out.”

      Before she could protest, he bent down to unfasten her seat belt, removing her arms from around her belly first to get them out of his way.

      “It’s not necessary to carry me,” she whispered.

      Her statement fell on deaf ears. He scooped her from the seat, one hand lifting under her knees, the other at her shoulders. As if this weren’t humiliating enough, her dress slid to her upper thighs. Logan’s gaze locked onto her legs shamelessly as he brought her out of the truck. His hip shoved the door closed.

      As he strode purposefully toward her front door, Sophia clung to his neck, giving in to the power and strength of his arms. Cradled this way, she felt safe and protected, though she knew in her head she should be wary of him. She shouldn’t let down her guard. Once they reached the porch, he set her legs down, reached into his pocket and came out with a set of keys. He inserted one into the lock and kicked open the front door. Then he picked her back up.

      Moonlight streamed inside, illuminating the front room just enough to guide the way. Logan moved with the grace of a cat into the house, finding the parlor sofa easily. He lowered her gently onto her backside. With her arms still locked around his neck, Logan’s face came within inches of hers and their gazes met through the darkness. A brief moment passed between them. The dark coolness in his eyes blazed now with heat so strong, memories flooded Sophia’s mind of the one blissful, wonderful, sizzling kiss they’d shared so long ago. Her stomach stopped aching for a short time and she became mesmerized by the possibility that was Logan Slade. But just as her mind wrapped around the idea, the heat in Logan’s eyes offering that possibility died away, replaced again by a cold, unreadable stare. Sophia swallowed hard, relinquishing the moment to foolishness.

      Logan unlocked her arms from around his neck and rose to full height. “I’ll be right back.”

      She lay her head down on the arm of the sofa and listened as he went to his truck. When he returned, he flipped on a lamp on the end table. Soft light flowed into the room. Standing over her, he lifted her hand in his and plopped two round pink tablets down in her palm. “Take these first,” he said.

      She stared at them.

      “They will help,” he offered, his voice gruff.

      They might be poison for all she knew, but she was pretty sure they were antacids, and though she was certain they wouldn’t help, she lifted them to her lips, opened her mouth and chewed. They went down like chalk and made her mouth dry.

      “Now,” Logan said, “Take a swig of this.”

      He bent onto his knees by the sofa. With a gentle hand, he lifted her head and guided a pink bottle to her lips.

      She shook her head. Mixing medications wasn’t wise. “I don’t think so.”

      He leaned back a little, holding the bottle away from her. “Trust me on this, it works. I’ve been where you are now. Why do you suppose I carry this stuff in my truck on Kickin’ days?”

      Sophia closed her eyes to the look of concern on Logan’s face. It didn’t make sense that he would try to help her. He detested her and wanted her gone yesterday. How could she trust him?

      Another cutting pain seized her stomach. “Oh.”

      His hand, still nestled in her hair, lifted her head up a little more. “C’mon, Sophia. Just drink it.”

      She bit the bullet and gave him her trust, craning her neck forward. He tipped the bottle, and she sipped from it a few times.

      “That’s good,” he said. “Give it a few minutes.”

      She lay her head down after swallowing the awful liquid. “You don’t have to stay.”

      Once again, he ignored her comment. He rose and walked off. She listened for the front door to close, hoping that he’d leave, but instead she heard him fidgeting around in the kitchen. He turned on the microwave. The thought of food of any sort made her queasy.

      Her eyes drifted closed and only when she felt something warm being placed on her belly, did she open them again. The warmed dishtowel acted much like a heating pad and soon, between the meds and the heat, the gripping pain in her stomach began to ease.

      “You should take a warm bath later,” he said.

      She lifted her gaze to Logan’s face.

      “Of course, I’d offer to do that with you, too,” he said, the momentary flicker of heat once again in his eyes, “but I’ve got a feeling that wouldn’t go over too well.”

      It hurt to smile, but Sophia managed to anyway.