“What?”
“Last night,” he says. “Even though it was four-thirty in the morning. I knew you’d pick up.”
“Well, of course, silly.” I smile.
“You don’t always know that. There are a lot of people you can’t count on, you can’t be sure will be there for you.”
I look at him sharply.
He reaches over and touches my hand with his just for a split second. His profile shows little, but I can see one thing, and that’s how much he’s blinking.
“What are you holding back?” I stand up and step between his legs so I can look right into his eyes. “What are you crying over?”
He tries to turn away, but his eyes fill with tears, and then the tears spill over. I reach out and start to wipe them off his face, but as fast as I do, more tears keep coming. Just like when the river flooded all those years ago— an overflow from being dammed up too tight for too long.
I put my arms around him and pull him close to me. “Tell me,” I whisper.
I’m ready. For almost anything except what comes out of his mouth.
“Gigi’s mother slept with your father.”
Shit.
I jerk my head back and look into Logan’s eyes to make sure he’s not telling some dumb joke.
But he’s never looked so serious.
“I overheard her father talking about Benjamin Henwood who owns The Cowherd Whiskey. He said he had a lot of dirt on Mr. Henwood and he’d make sure he got put behind bars for life and that his family would lose the bar.”
I’m swaying. My body is so weak I can’t hold it up.
But I don’t need to because Logan’s arms wrap around me tightly. He tugs me forward and I sink down onto his lap.
“How many years ago did she sleep with my daddy?”
“Four.”
Four. So, Skip did his research. Like always.
“I went out to West Texas, because that’s where Mr. Phillips was headed. He’d mentioned the name of his hotel, and I checked in…”
“You must have spent a fortune,” I say in horror.
“It was worth it.”
“Logan…”
“I waited a while before I even saw him. I was afraid I’d miss him altogether. But then, Gigi approached me privately. She liked what I was painting, and she confessed she had a problem. She pointed out her father, and we got to talking. I told her I knew your father, and I said he didn’t deserve prison. She asked if I would be interested in a mutual deal—a win-win for both of us.”
“What would Gigi win?”
When Logan explains about her inheritance, I start to get it. Why she seemed so lost. When she learned to shoot, she finally felt in control of something, something her parents couldn’t take away from her. I feel a twinge of shame for how I judged her.
“Gosh, the grass really does seem greener, doesn’t it?” I say out loud. “Tell me the rest of the story.”
“Somehow, we pulled it off,” Logan says. “We convinced Mr. Phillips we were in love and that we wanted to marry right away. He asked me to sign a prenup promising I wouldn’t fight her for the money if we divorced, and I did. And he signed off on agreeing to destroy all evidence that he made up about your father. He agreed to let all of it go.”
I stare at him. “You agreed to marry her…to save my family?”
