A Cowboy Christmas

“No.”

Compassion battled anger. She’d never been in Logan’s shoes. Never loved someone and then had that love ripped from her arms the way his wife and their baby had been taken from him.

“We’ll be fine on our own, Logan.” The words sounded bold and brave but Cassidy’s insides shook. How on earth would she handle caring for an infant, cutting hair every day and watching over her mother? Mom managed and you will, too. “I told you about the baby because you had a right to know.” She searched his expression but his face remained composed, no hint that her words affected him one way or the other. “The potatoes will be done in ten minutes.” She left the brooding cowboy in peace.

Ten minutes later—not a second sooner—Logan rapped on the door and stepped into the kitchen. He set the steaks on the counter.

“What would you prefer to drink?” she asked. “We have red wine.” Her mother’s favorite. “Or soda or bottled water.”

“Water’s fine.”

“Have a seat.” She placed the drinks on the table. “Time for supper, Mom.” Cassidy cut her mother’s steak into bite-size pieces and poured dressing on the salad, aware of Logan’s eyes following her movements.

Cassidy dug into her potato as she stewed over Logan’s announcement that he wouldn’t be involved in their baby’s life. Yes, her mother had raised her without a father and she was a well-adjusted young woman—in her opinion. But she wanted better than that for her child. She wanted her little boy or girl to know the love of a mother and a father.

When Logan still hadn’t touched his food, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Shouldn’t we wait for your mother?”

“I gave up forcing her to come to the table. She’ll eat when she’s ready.”

Logan picked at his meal, ruining Cassidy’s appetite. She set her fork and knife aside. “I get not wanting anything to do with me, Logan. I’m a big girl. I know there weren’t any feelings involved in what we…did.” She cleared her throat and continued. “But I don’t understand how you can walk away from your own child.”

“I’m not walking away. I said I would help financially.”

Tired and frustrated, she lashed out. “How do you plan to ignore a child who’ll grow up right under your nose?” She had no plans to leave Junket. This was home.

He shoved his chair away from the table and headed for the door.

Great. She’d pushed him too far. “So that’s it? You’ll send a check in the mail once a month?”

Hand on the doorknob, he said. “That’s all I have to offer.”

There went all her pie-in-the-sky dreams of her child having a real family. “You know what, Logan? Never mind. Never mind the money. Never mind me. Never mind the baby. We don’t need your help.”

The muscle along his jaw pulsed in anger. After a moment, he opened the door and walked out, leaving Cassidy the last word.

And the last regret.

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