to risk asking. Stick to business, she reminded herself. The last thing she wanted or needed was to get involved in Logan’s life.
Together they carried the dirty dishes to the sink, and as she began filling the dishwasher, she noticed him watching her. His eyes no longer seemed distant. They had a gentle, knowing look, as if he perhaps saw far too much. An icy finger of unease ran down her spine. She wanted to keep her past to herself, hidden away so she’d never have to face the shame of what had happened to her.
Her nerves must have been more frayed than she’d thought, for unthinkingly she said the first thing that popped into her head. “Why is the house so empty? It’s obvious there was furniture. I mean, there are indentations in some of the rugs and I was...” Her voice trailed away. She couldn’t believe she’d actually asked.
Logan barely managed to keep from smiling. He was aware that she’d dropped her guard, but now it was back in place. She was obviously trying to ignore the way he was staring as she busied herself by filling the sink with soapy water to scrub the cast-iron skillet and the blender. He liked the way she moved, the sway of her hips, the graceful hand gestures.
He leaned his backside against the edge of the counter, crossed his arms over his chest and said, “All the missing furniture belonged to my wife, to Becky’s family. They’re heirlooms from Becky’s mother, who wanted them back after the accident. There wasn’t any reason to kick up a fuss. I never particularly cared for them in the first place. They always had a musty smell I disliked.”
“And there was no reason to replace them?”
“Not with just me living here.” He changed the subject to her. He still wanted to understand about her past. “I hope you called your family and let them know you arrived safely. Where did you say you were from?”
“Seattle. And I don’t have anyone there anymore. I called Denise last night.”
“Denise, the friend in Houston? The one who got you this job?” Logan glanced around the kitchen. “I don’t know if she did you a favor or not. Just wait until you tackle the office.” He was intrigued by her smile, as if her lips were unused to the movement.
Avery found that the turn the conversation had taken was making her edgy, so she headed off any further questions with another of her own. “I thought from what you said yesterday that you no longer had a practice, but from what I saw in the office, you seem to be in business.”
“Confusing, isn’t it. There’s a saying in my work—once a veterinarian, always a veterinarian. It’s true. I have patients I’ve treated for years. Their owners aren’t willing to go to anyone else, even my brother. They refuse to let me retire and they call here day and night.”
“And you don’t turn them down, do you,” she said softly. Warmth coursed through her. Maybe the world did have people you could believe in. For all Logan’s initial indifference and the aura of mystery, he was a caring, sensitive man. Then the warm feeling cooled. What did she know about people? Hadn’t she learned, the hard way, that her judgment couldn’t be trusted?
He watched her attack the dirty skillet with zeal and a wire scrub brush. Her abrupt silence baffled him. He waited for Avery’s next question, because weren’t women, in general, notorious truth seekers? Secrets drove them nuts and led to a cross-examination worthy of the CIA. But Avery didn’t fit that mold, seemed loath to put a voice to her curiosity.
All of a sudden, he understood. Conversation, with questions and answers, was a two-way street. By asking, she would leave herself open to being quizzed. That was the last thing she wanted.
As Avery scrubbed, unaware of Logan’s thoughts, she allowed herself to dream a little, to slip back into familiar territory. “You’ll need me to set up your books as a small-business venture,” she said. “And of course you’ll want invoicing and billing. What about inventory? I mean, you use supplies and stuff, right?” She didn’t have a clue what a veterinarian required, but figured his needs were closely in line with those of a medical doctor. A vet was a doctor, after all. “And you’ll need tax depreciation on your equipment. Oh, and a profit-and-loss statement.”
She turned her head and looked at Logan. Omigod. Had she said too much, given something away?
“That sounds about right to me.” Logan’s suspicions were confirmed. She was well educated. Laypeople didn’t throw around terms like profit-and-loss statements and tax depreciation.
But Avery, excited by the prospect of getting involved in something she loved, forgot about discretion. Just as she started to tell Logan some of her plans, the kitchen door swung open. Hair flying, hands full of paper sacks, voice loud and laughing, Jessie Middleton blew into the kitchen like a whirlwind. She was scantily dressed in short shorts and a tank top that left little to the imagination.
The fact that she was being ignored made Avery bite her lip. Obviously Jessie thought that by pretending not to see the interloper, Avery would simply disappear. Well, Jessie was in for a shock. Bad manners didn’t faze Avery in the least. The less she was lured into this family and its problems, the better off she’d be. But becoming invisible didn’t seem to work with Logan. He was standing directly behind her, and as she started to move away, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
Jessie kept her gaze on Logan’s face as she began pulling plastic containers from one of the bags. “I brought lunch. Your favorites, Logan. I talked Louise into making chili. She used Becky’s recipe.” She darted a cutting look at Avery. “You always said Becky was the best cook in the world and her chili was worth its weight in gold—” she giggled “—or did you say it was worth its weight in hot peppers? Anyway, I thought it would be a treat. Do you have any beer? Oh, and I stopped off at the café just in time. Maebell was taking blackberry cobblers out of the oven. You know how stingy she is about using her stockpile of fresh berries, but when I told her it was for you, well, she couldn’t say no. She never forgot how much Jamie and you loved her cobblers, and the blackberry was his very favorite in the whole world. You ought to stop by the café. Logan. She misses Jamie like we all do.”
Jessie juggled the deep-dish cobbler pan like a hot potato, then quickly set it on the table. “I’ll get the plates,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Jess,” he answered, his apology laced with kindness, “but we’ve eaten.” He made an effort to continue to smile. The mention of his son opened that deep hole in his heart again, like a fresh wound. He tightened his grip on Avery’s shoulder.
“But, Logan, it’s not even twelve-thirty yet! You never eat before twelve-thirty.”
“Tanner stopped by and made sandwiches for us.”
“Grilled cheese?” Jessie asked. “He fixed his grilled cheese sandwiches?” Her gaze swung to Avery, as if to confirm her worst fears, then back to Logan. “And you made malts?”
Apparently Logan had hurt her feelings. He walked over to Jessie, slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a brotherly hug. “It was thoughtful of you to go to so much trouble and I appreciate it, Jess, really I do. But you should have checked first, honey.”
“I never had to check before.”
“How about storing this stuff in the fridge and I’ll eat it tonight?”
It didn’t take a genius to realize that as sure as the sun rose every morning, Jessie was going to blame her, Avery, for Logan’s rejection. Avery had a feeling she was being dragged into something and she should turn tail and run as fast as possible. But where would she go?
Jessie threw barbed glances, full of loathing, at her as she pitched the food containers into the refrigerator and slammed the door. “I’ll help you groom the horses, then.”
Logan smiled and shook his head, “Thanks for offering, kitten, but the boys are here today. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be in San Antonio this week making arrangements for Fiesta?” He glanced at Avery to explain. “Fiesta San Antonio is a big celebration held every year. And Jess is one of the duchesses.”
Before