Her Dakota Man (Book 1 - Dakota Hearts) (4 page)

“You seeing Skylar tonight?”

“Jeez, Logan. Her divorce was only just finalized.”

“That hasn't stopped you from taking her out to dinner.”

“As a friend. Let's leave it at that. It's bad enough I have to listen to Mom talk about 'the lonely doctor.' I don't need it from you, too.”

At the sound of laughter, Logan glanced over at Keith and Poppy.

“Keith could probably use some playtime,” he finally said.

Hawk laughed. “He looks like he's having a good time with Poppy.”

The look he shot Hawk was sharper than he’d intended. But it didn’t faze Hawk.

“You'd probably have a good time with Poppy, too. If you let yourself,” Hawk added.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You two were once pretty tight friends. It might be nice to catch up without having to run after Keith.”

“She said she's here to help with the cleanup.”

Hawk chuckled softly. “Are you worried you're going to have to explain having a woman stay in your house? You've known Poppy since you were in grade school. She was Kelly's best friend. It's not like you're doing anything wrong.”

Logan sighed.

“Aah,” Hawk interrupted. “You're worried about wanting to do something. Hey, she's a beautiful woman. Always was.”

“Back off, Hawk. You're not helping,” Logan said.

His brother looked at him sympathetically. “Kelly has been gone for a long time now. You don’t have to act like a married man anymore.”

When Logan shot him another look, this one more lethal than the first, Hawk put up his hands as a sign of retreat.

“All I'm saying is life goes on. Just remember that.”

“You don't get it, Hawk.”

“Maybe not. Just think about it, 'kay?”

Logan fisted his hand in his pocket as he looked over at Keith and Poppy doing an Indian dance around the pile of sticks they'd created. Keith was singing a made up Indian chant as they danced.

He was having fun. And he didn't want his son to have fun with Poppy, selfish as it was for Logan to feel that way. But Keith was just a kid. He missed his mother. There was no doubt there. As time went on, Logan found it was easier to distract Keith from missing Kelly. Now that the danger of more bad weather had passed, there was no reason he couldn't have a play date with his best friend in town. It would keep Logan from having to see just how much of a good time he was having with Poppy.

“Hey, buddy!” he called out. “Want to play with Alex this afternoon?”

Keith stopped chanting and dancing. His eyes lit up. “Are we going to Alex's house?”

“No, it's just you and me, Keith,” Hawk said. “Your Dad is going to stay back here with Aunt Poppy.”

Keith ran over and Logan bent down and gave his son a kiss and hug. Within a few minutes, Keith was loaded into Hawk's Jeep and they were headed to town, leaving Logan alone. Well, not alone.

“I guess it's just you and me,” Poppy said.

He looked at Poppy and wanted to hold tight to the anger that had sustained him for so long. But she was smiling up at him with that same innocence she had when she was seventeen. He couldn’t resist that smile then. He was having a hell of time doing it now.

He couldn’t remember the last time they’d stood so close. Oh, he'd seen Poppy over the years a few times. But she'd always been dressed sharp in her city clothes, looking polished like new silver. The visit was always quick, and Poppy always had a pressing reason to run back to New York, back to her life.

Now she was standing there as if she'd never left Rudolph at all. Her boots were already full of mud, but she didn't seem to mind. Her jeans had dirt smudges where she'd wiped her fingers clean or from Keith getting too close to her with a filthy stick while they'd made their pile. But she didn't seem as though she even knew that dirt was there. It didn’t jive with the Poppy he’d convinced himself she’d become. It was every bit the young woman he’d once known.

Logan paused, trying to catch his breath. Poppy had always been a beautiful woman whether she was dressed to the nines or dressed casually. She wore an old sweatshirt and torn jeans as naturally as those designer clothes she’d arrived in. And today she looked simply breathtaking. Damn her. Her auburn hair was pulled up in a high ponytail and she had a sparkle in her green eyes, almost as a challenge that she was ready to do whatever she had to in order to help.

“How long were you planning on staying?” Logan asked.

His question seemed to take her off guard. “Ah, I'm not sure yet. We'll have to see what happens,” Poppy replied. “Are you trying to kick me out the door already?”

“As if I could do that…” He quickly recovered. “You’re wearing half that mud pile on your jeans.”

She looked down at herself as if to confirm it. “So I am.”

“There's some mud and debris clogging up the pipe that drains the runoff. It's over by--”

“I know where it is. I used to live here.” She smiled, pleased with herself. “That drain has always been a problem. Remember the year the beavers decided to dam it all up and we ended up with what looked like a lake out in that far pasture?”

He did remember. He also remembered snakes and rodents crawling and floating since they'd been flooded out of their holes. He glanced down at her boots, impressed she'd remembered to wear something so practical for the job at hand.

“Since you're in a helping mood, you'll need some gloves. I know how much you love spiders and snakes.”

“Oh, you had to mention those.”

She made a face of disgust that had him laughing despite not wanting to. “We may see a whole nest of them before we're done unclogging that drain pipe. As soon as it’s unclogged the rest of the pasture should drain and the ground should dry up.”

“I didn't bring a pair of gloves.”

“Kelly kept a pair in the kitchen under the sink. I'm sure those will fit you.”

Poppy nodded. “Be right back then.”

She walked away toward the house and God help him he turned his head to watch the gentle sway of her hips and the lightness of her step. They'd been friends. More than good friends. But there had always been something special about Poppy. Since Kelly's illness, he'd been able to forget that part of their history. Poppy turned back once, smiling at him, and that smile touched some place deep in his chest, making it hard to hang onto the reasons why he'd been so angry at Poppy in the first place. And it was harder to remember the reasons he didn't want her back in Rudolph at all.

###

Despite the cold March weather, sweat poured down the center of Poppy's chest, soaking the skin between her breasts beneath her jacket as she hauled away more branches that had been swept onto the ranch by the flood. Both her and Logan had worked alongside each other tirelessly for hours. They'd spoken barely a word other than to give each other direction.

Just when she thought he might stop and take a break, giving them much needed time to reconnect, he pushed on with the next task as if she was no more than a hired hand. If she didn't know better, she'd think Logan was purposely pushing her to see just how far she'd go before quitting.

Or maybe he was trying to tire himself out so badly he'd fall asleep at the kitchen table and avoid dinner conversation later. Either way, Poppy's back was screaming at her to rest. But she'd be damned if she'd give Logan McKinnon the satisfaction of besting her.

“How's the kitchen stocked?” she asked when the sun started sinking low in the afternoon sky.

Logan stopped midway through tossing wood in the pile. He used the back of his hand to wipe sweat off his forehead, leaving a streak of dirt in its place. Memories invaded Poppy's mind once again, as they always did when she was with Logan. He wasn't that hot, sexy teenager she'd spent just about every waking minute with as a kid. He was a handsome grown man who worked hard and his chiseled muscles beneath his shirt showed just how much.

She’d never been able to erase the member of what it felt like to be in Logan McKinnon’s arms. She knew just how strong his arms were when they were wrapped around her. Not as a lover. She’d never had that privilege, although she’d gone there many times in her adolescent dreams. But there were memories that she held dear and she revisited when the pain of them weren’t too hard to bear.

She pulled herself from her memories, and wild childish dreams, and swallowed hard.

“I just thought you might be getting hungry.”

“You cook?”

She made a face. “Not really. But I can figure out how to make a hamburger if you have some beef. I'm sure we can make a meal without your mother giving instruction. Unless your culinary skills have evolved beyond macaroni and cheese.”

Logan cocked his head to one side, looking completely impish and adorable. “Keith and I actually eat over at my mom's a few times a week. She's busy at the shelter tonight. But…I can make macaroni and cheese…and spaghetti with bottled sauce.” He chuckled, showing the deep dimple that always marked his left cheek. She longed to brush her finger over the mark.

“Good. Then we won't starve,” she said, laughing. “Thank God for your mother.”

Logan thought a minute and shrugged. “I haven't been to the store. I don't think we have much in the cupboards. We might have animal crackers and cereal. I don’t even have cheese for grilled cheeses.”

“I can run to the grocery store and see if there is anything still left on the shelves that hasn't been picked over. There was a ton of people in town earlier after the delivery truck arrived so there may not be much left.”

“We may do better seeing if my mother has any leftovers from the meals she's preparing down at the shelter for all the displaced folks.”

“I'm game if you are.”

He eyed her as if he was teasing. “It won't be up to New York City restaurant standards. You’ll probably be eating off a paper plate.”

Poppy let his comment slide despite feeling slighted. It would do no good to allow Logan to get under her skin more than he already had. “If your mom cooked it, I’ll love it. Always have.”

His lips lifted to one side in a slow smile that had her knees weakening beneath the weight of her.

He glanced back toward the house. “We can clean up now or later. Your call.”

A hot bath was definitely in order to ease out the aches and tightness from all the lifting today. Her skin had scratches she couldn't see, but felt with every movement. Her hands had calluses that were about to break open. But all the fresh air and work had made her starving.

“I have a feeling we won’t be any dirtier than anyone else who’s been outside all day. I've worked up an appetite. I have a feeling if I take a bath now all I’ll want to do is crawl into bed and sleep.”

Their eyes locked for a good long moment. She wondered what it was that she'd said to cause the flare of light in Logan's eyes.

When he said nothing, she added, “We can pick up Keith while we're at it so Hawk doesn't have to make another trip out here.

Logan nodded. “We'll take my truck.”

* * *

As they drove into town, Poppy once again took in the devastation that hit Rudolph so badly over the last few weeks, glad that it was now dark and she could only see the damage under glaring lights from generators as people continued to work into the night. Riding through town a second time didn't make it any easier than it had this morning when she’d arrived. No matter how long she’d lived in New York, Rudolph had been home and it pained her to see the people she knew and cared about suffering so badly.

She was relieved to get to the shelter at the elementary school. She was starving, but more than that, she wanted to make sure the people she knew were as okay as they could be after losing so much. Logan had taken off quickly, so Poppy milled around the open gymnasium, talking with old friends that had settled into cots with what little provision they’d managed to grab before the water got too high. She looked around and didn’t see Logan and decided he must be in the cafeteria where meals were being served.

“Hey, guys. I knew I’d find you where the food was,” Poppy said when she found Logan and Keith sitting at a table with his brother Ethan. Ethan…now there was one surprise. Once the hellion of the McKinnon brothers, he’d straightened himself out after the death of his best friend in a four-wheeling accident by joining the military and becoming a Navy Seal. Today he was dressed in police blues.

He smiled and stood up when he saw her coming around to his side of the table. “Now this is a surprise,” she said, giving him a quick hug.

“Which part,” Ethan asked. “Me being home after all this time or me wearing a badge?”

Laughing, she said, “Both. It’s good to see you.”

“Same here.”

Ethan stood as tall as Logan and shared the same dark hair and blue eyes, but that was where the fraternal twins’ resemblance ended. Logan and Ethan were the youngest of the McKinnon boys, not that it mattered much since Kate McKinnon had given birth to five strapping Irish boys in six years.