[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
entrance into the house. A tremble skidded up her spine when she heard the
low, rich timbre of Logan's voice.
Cat chalked it up to nerves and this awkward marriage that had them living
together for Quint's benefit. She consoled herself with the knowledge that it
would be twice as unnatural if she weren't aware of Logan as a man, a virilely
attractive man. If there were times when she longed to be held and touched,
such urges were perfectly natural, too. Probably even healthy. But that didn't
mean she wanted to give in to them.
Except for that first night, their wedding night, Logan hadn't shown any
interest in her as anything other than Quint's mother. Even that night when he
had shown her the various ways she could escape an attacker's hold, his
attitude and touch had been purely instructional. Which was precisely the way
she wanted it, Cat reminded herself and ignored the funny ache inside.
Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she busied herself patting dry the head
of lettuce, her pulse rushing a little as it always did when Logan was around.
"Something smells good." Logan walked to the stove, lifted the lid on the
sauce pot and inhaled the fragrant steam. "Spaghetti and meatballs. Looks like
we're going Italian tonight."
"Yeah, Mom makes the best spaghetti. It's even better than SpaghettiOs, 'cept
she doesn't make the Os," Quint added.
"That's a shame." A smile was in Logan's voice.
"She can't find the Os at the store," Quint cxplainal. "She's looked and
looked. Haven't you, Mom?"
"That's right," Cat agreed, too aware of Logan moving to the counter area
where she was working..
He opened a cupboard door and took out a cup, slanting her a sideways look.
"Quint tells me you fed the horses already. I don't expect you to take care of
the house, look after him, and do ranch chores as well. I hope you know that."
Uncomfortable and half-irritated that he should be so thoughtful and
considerate, Cat dug her fingers into the head of lettuce and tore out a
chunk. "I had been working with the colt. Since I was already at the barn, it
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seemed logical to go ahead and feed the horses. It didn't require that much
effort."
"Maybe not. Anyway, thanks for doing it." The warmth in his voice was genuine,
and much too unsettling.
"No problem." She was cool to the point of being brusque. Out of the corner of
her eye, she saw his mouth tighten.
"I thought of a name for the colt," Quint put in. "It's a good one, too."
"Let me guess," Logan said. "You're going to call him Lollapaloosa."
Logan's suggestion was so unexpected and whimsical that Cat couldn't keep a
laugh from bubbling out. She struggled to smother it, even though this wasn't
the first time I .ogan's sense of humor had taken her by surprise.
Just for a moment, amusement danced in both their eyes. The guarded look was
gone from her expression. She was open to him, warm and vibrant and beautiful.
Desire crawled through Logan with an enveloping heat. Then Quint spoke up,
reclaiming his attention.
"Lollap'loosa," he stumbled over the name, a deep frown knitting his forehead.
"What's that mean?"
"It means the colt is unique, the best there is," Logan explained.
"Is it an Indian name?"
"I'm afraid not." Logan carried his cup over to the table.
"The colt needs an Indian name," Quint said with a decisive nod, then
proceeded to tell him the one he liked and explained at length how he had come
up with it, finishing with, "What do you think? Do you like Raindance, too?"
"I think it fits him perfectly," Logan agreed. "He certainly does a lot of
dancing around when you put a halter on him."
"Not anymore. Mom's got him leading real good. But he used to, didn't he?"
Quint said, pleased to find another reason for choosing the name.
"He sure did." Logan drank the last of the coffee in his cup and took it back
to the counter, glancing at Cat. "Do I have time to change before dinner's
ready?"
"Easily," she answered without looking at him. "I won't be cooking the
spaghetti until Uncle Culley gets here."
"I'm gonna put on a clean shirt," Quint announced. "Mine's dirty."
Cat started to suggest that he finish setting the table first, but the words
died on her tongue when she saw Quint trailing Logan, doing his best to copy
Logan's long, unhurried stride. The image of father and son couldn't have been
stronger. For some reason it cut deep.
She stood for a long minute, listening to Quint's steady run of chatter fade
to the other end of the house, then shook aside the vague melancholy and
finished setting the table before putting the water on to boil in anticipation
of her uncle's arrival.
Conversation lagged at the supper table that evening. Cat had quickly
exhausted her supply of mundane topics and wondered if she was the only one
who felt the strain of this silence. She glanced at Quint, noting the way he
idly toyed with his chopped-up bits of spaghetti.
"You're awfully quiet tonight, Quint." A few weeks ago Cat wouldn't have found
that at all unusual. Since moving here, he had become much more talkative. It
was something that had happened so gradually that Cat was only now realizing
it-and how much she had come to rely on him to keep the table conversation
going.
"I been thinking." He wore his serious face.
"About what?" Logan glanced at him, amused and curious. "Well . . ." Quint
laid his fork down and gazed intently at [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl karpacz24.htw.pl
entrance into the house. A tremble skidded up her spine when she heard the
low, rich timbre of Logan's voice.
Cat chalked it up to nerves and this awkward marriage that had them living
together for Quint's benefit. She consoled herself with the knowledge that it
would be twice as unnatural if she weren't aware of Logan as a man, a virilely
attractive man. If there were times when she longed to be held and touched,
such urges were perfectly natural, too. Probably even healthy. But that didn't
mean she wanted to give in to them.
Except for that first night, their wedding night, Logan hadn't shown any
interest in her as anything other than Quint's mother. Even that night when he
had shown her the various ways she could escape an attacker's hold, his
attitude and touch had been purely instructional. Which was precisely the way
she wanted it, Cat reminded herself and ignored the funny ache inside.
Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she busied herself patting dry the head
of lettuce, her pulse rushing a little as it always did when Logan was around.
"Something smells good." Logan walked to the stove, lifted the lid on the
sauce pot and inhaled the fragrant steam. "Spaghetti and meatballs. Looks like
we're going Italian tonight."
"Yeah, Mom makes the best spaghetti. It's even better than SpaghettiOs, 'cept
she doesn't make the Os," Quint added.
"That's a shame." A smile was in Logan's voice.
"She can't find the Os at the store," Quint cxplainal. "She's looked and
looked. Haven't you, Mom?"
"That's right," Cat agreed, too aware of Logan moving to the counter area
where she was working..
He opened a cupboard door and took out a cup, slanting her a sideways look.
"Quint tells me you fed the horses already. I don't expect you to take care of
the house, look after him, and do ranch chores as well. I hope you know that."
Uncomfortable and half-irritated that he should be so thoughtful and
considerate, Cat dug her fingers into the head of lettuce and tore out a
chunk. "I had been working with the colt. Since I was already at the barn, it
Page 153
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
seemed logical to go ahead and feed the horses. It didn't require that much
effort."
"Maybe not. Anyway, thanks for doing it." The warmth in his voice was genuine,
and much too unsettling.
"No problem." She was cool to the point of being brusque. Out of the corner of
her eye, she saw his mouth tighten.
"I thought of a name for the colt," Quint put in. "It's a good one, too."
"Let me guess," Logan said. "You're going to call him Lollapaloosa."
Logan's suggestion was so unexpected and whimsical that Cat couldn't keep a
laugh from bubbling out. She struggled to smother it, even though this wasn't
the first time I .ogan's sense of humor had taken her by surprise.
Just for a moment, amusement danced in both their eyes. The guarded look was
gone from her expression. She was open to him, warm and vibrant and beautiful.
Desire crawled through Logan with an enveloping heat. Then Quint spoke up,
reclaiming his attention.
"Lollap'loosa," he stumbled over the name, a deep frown knitting his forehead.
"What's that mean?"
"It means the colt is unique, the best there is," Logan explained.
"Is it an Indian name?"
"I'm afraid not." Logan carried his cup over to the table.
"The colt needs an Indian name," Quint said with a decisive nod, then
proceeded to tell him the one he liked and explained at length how he had come
up with it, finishing with, "What do you think? Do you like Raindance, too?"
"I think it fits him perfectly," Logan agreed. "He certainly does a lot of
dancing around when you put a halter on him."
"Not anymore. Mom's got him leading real good. But he used to, didn't he?"
Quint said, pleased to find another reason for choosing the name.
"He sure did." Logan drank the last of the coffee in his cup and took it back
to the counter, glancing at Cat. "Do I have time to change before dinner's
ready?"
"Easily," she answered without looking at him. "I won't be cooking the
spaghetti until Uncle Culley gets here."
"I'm gonna put on a clean shirt," Quint announced. "Mine's dirty."
Cat started to suggest that he finish setting the table first, but the words
died on her tongue when she saw Quint trailing Logan, doing his best to copy
Logan's long, unhurried stride. The image of father and son couldn't have been
stronger. For some reason it cut deep.
She stood for a long minute, listening to Quint's steady run of chatter fade
to the other end of the house, then shook aside the vague melancholy and
finished setting the table before putting the water on to boil in anticipation
of her uncle's arrival.
Conversation lagged at the supper table that evening. Cat had quickly
exhausted her supply of mundane topics and wondered if she was the only one
who felt the strain of this silence. She glanced at Quint, noting the way he
idly toyed with his chopped-up bits of spaghetti.
"You're awfully quiet tonight, Quint." A few weeks ago Cat wouldn't have found
that at all unusual. Since moving here, he had become much more talkative. It
was something that had happened so gradually that Cat was only now realizing
it-and how much she had come to rely on him to keep the table conversation
going.
"I been thinking." He wore his serious face.
"About what?" Logan glanced at him, amused and curious. "Well . . ." Quint
laid his fork down and gazed intently at [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]