With This Click, I Thee Wed (Click and Wed.com Series, #1) Page 11

  Loneliness wasn’t a new emotion for me.

  Back at the house, I organized my plans for the day and made a thick grilled cheese sandwich with creamy tomato basil soup for lunch. Logan came in when I called him, and he ate in silence, his pensive aura subduing any attempts to talk I might make.

  He disappeared with a wave and I didn’t see him the rest of the night. My days blended together, and I’m not sure when I got the third task on my phone from ClickandWed. When I did, I ignored it, like doing so would allow me to ignore the frustration with my situation. Why do the tasks when we weren’t going to work out? Oh, right, the money. Depression didn’t work at keeping me motivated, but I tried anyway.

  Finally, over a simple dinner of shepherd’s pie and cornbread, I clicked on the app and read the task blinking in the notifications section. “Fix something for your spouse.”

  The step was brief and to the point. Fix something. What could I fix for him? Had they met my husband? I didn’t know enough about him to know what was broken. Plus, he was so handy, he knew how to fix everything himself. I already made his meals for him. I cleaned the house and did the laundry. He didn’t include me in anything else.

  What else could I possibly do for him? Did he have anything that weighed on him? The only issue I knew about was the money. The app gave me a thirty-day deadline on that particular task which was good, because I was definitely going to need the extra time to come up with something. Short of selling an organ, I wasn’t sure of anything I could do in thirty days to help him come up with money fast.

  Especially with him being gone all the time and no extra vehicle for me.

  I hadn’t seen Logan in over two weeks, and it was taking a toll not knowing where he was. When Derek had disappeared, he would at least come home smelling of alcohol and cheap perfume. Logan just came home, took a shower, and climbed into bed. I had no idea where he was before that or what he was doing.

  Or whom he was seeing.

  I had been up all day working with clients and cleaning the house and hoping for an opportunity to sit with Logan. But, true to routine, he had disappeared right after lunch, cutting everything short. He didn’t even wave at me as he rushed out the door, like he was late for something.

  My ability to concentrate disappeared with the afternoon sun. All I could think about was where he was at and what he was doing. My paranoia was getting to me, and I could thank Derek for another gift that just kept on giving.

  Suspicion wasn’t a good thing when you were trying to start something new. We weren’t even trying to be married, just be friends in a weird situation. Yet, I couldn’t shake the sensation he was doing something he shouldn’t be. Or doing something I should know about, which, ironically, made me want to know even more.

  A storm rolled in with dark clouds creeping across the sky. Fading light cast long shadows over the fields and house. For the first time, I experienced a thunderstorm when there was still snow on the ground. Normally, thunderstorms kept me awake with their loud crashes and bright lights. I didn’t plan on getting any rest that night anyway, not with my worry over Logan competing for my worry for the chickens and other animals in the wake of the storm.

  I wrapped my arms around my waist, staring out the window. Hopefully, Logan would make it home okay, I was sure the roads were slippery with freezing rain and the odd storm dominating the sky.

  My emotions were raw, and I couldn’t feel more adrift, like a boat that had no mooring, or a leaf tossing around on the river current. I had become aimless, and the reality was that I was no better off than when I was with my parents.

  Since we had agreed that we would part ways at the end of our six months, I knew better than to get attached to Logan. I knew better, but that didn’t mean I had been able to keep Logan Kyle from sinking his hands into my heart and not letting go.

  I couldn’t fall in love with him just to torture myself by leaving him.

  Chapter 14

  Even though I kept the fire roaring, its flames licking orange and yellow up dry red fir logs, the later it got, the colder I seemed to feel. I couldn’t get warm, though I wore pants, a long-sleeve t-shirt, and a fleece hoodie. Spread out over every few minutes, the thunder would crash overhead and disrupt the steady pattering of the sleet beating on the roof.

  I had grabbed a Sherpa fleece blanket from the bureau by the china cabinet and wrapped myself in the soft layers. Sitting on the easy chair in the corner opposite the door and close to the fire, I huddled into the dark, anxious to rest, but unable to relax. Even reading was an impossibility. I chewed on my bottom lip while watching the flames, hoping Logan would be home soon.

  The thunder began to pass, rolling on and leaving an eerie quiet in its path. Was it enough to let me sleep, or was I so amped up, I’d never be able to relax?

  Snow crunching under tires pulled me from any thoughts of rest. Logan was home.

  I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to. Would I be able to smell her perfume as he walked by? Would he have bright red lipstick on his neck? What would be the telling sign that would tell me where he’d been? With Derek, I’d become a pro and could even tell when it was a different woman. Yes, my cheating husband had cheated on his affairs.

  My stomach hurt, and I dried my slick palms on my pants every few minutes. I didn’t want to face him, and yet, I had to know. I had to know what he was doing every night.

  I’d lost my heart to him. I fell. Hard. If he didn’t feel anything for me, that was fine. I could handle it. I just had to know. Stupidly enough, I wasn’t the woman who accepted the first answer or even the fifth. I needed to be told point blank he wasn’t interested.

  Seconds after the light flashed across the front of the house when he pulled up, his footsteps thudded on the porch. I clenched my fingers into the soft material of the blanket and stared at the door. My heart pounded and I couldn’t catch my breath.

  In moments, he’d pushed open the door but brushed something light and flaky from his shoulders and hair. It couldn’t be snow because only rain had come down for the last few hours. The overwhelmingly fresh scent of pine sap filled the living room, confusing me even more. Women didn’t wear the scent of trees, flowers maybe, but trees? No. Men wore nature scents like that, but he’d denied being gay.

  I didn’t think it was possible for me to be more confused, and I held my tongue from blurting anything out. I had no idea what was going on.

  Fatigue pulled his lips down, and he didn’t raise his gaze as he kicked off his boots by the door. His shoulders slouched and didn’t straighten as he leaned on the table, oblivious to my presence.

  I hadn’t noticed what time it was, but it wasn’t early and was probably well after eleven. The late nights and early mornings were leaving him with little time to get quality sleep. Not only was he gone all afternoon and evening, but he worked so hard on his daily chores during the day.

  Hopefully, whoever she was, she was worth it. Logan rested a minute, then grabbed a broom and swept the floor by the door, dumping the dustpan contents into the garbage in the kitchen and putting the broom away again.

  I couldn’t stay quiet any longer. I didn’t want to seem like a lurker, which I suspected was the least of my concerns. “Where have you been? Are you okay?”

  His tall frame lurched to the side with his back straight. He turned wary eyes my way and cocked his head. “What are you doing up so late? You need to rest. You have a lot on your plate.” He ran a hand through what looked like dusty hair and moved into the living room.

  I propped my foot on the edge of the seat. “That doesn’t answer my question. Where have you been? It’s okay if you have another girlfriend or... someone else. I just need to know. My ex-husband had a girlfriend on the side. I learned then that, as long as I know what’s going on, I can deal with it. You’re not tied to me. I mean, technically you are, but we have plans to break whatever this is in a few months. I just need to know that you’re okay.” My rambling tried to cover the tears that longed to streak
my cheeks.

  I just needed to know.

  Logan’s gaze penetrated the darkness around me. Could he see into my mind? The intensity of his eyes suggested he understood what my inner emotions were. As if we were made up of magnets, he moved closer, dropping to one knee in front of me.

  He reached for my hand and pulled my chilly fingers into his warm grasp. He invaded my space, but it was more like he filled my air with the oxygen I’d been missing. Upon closer inspection in the light from the fire and the kitchen, the small light flakes he hadn’t removed from his shirt and hair were pine shavings, fine sawdust.

  Low and strangely intimate, his voice caressed me in the darkness. “Rachel, there’s no one else. I promise. We need money. I need to pay land taxes, and I was able to get a small extension, but it’s not for long. That combined with the things you need to pay for... I got a job bucking green board at the mill. That’s where I’m at every night.”

  He reached up, his calloused fingers rough on my cheek, but gentle. “There’s no one else. I promise.” He repeated it vehemently with such emotion, the truthfulness of his words dug deep inside my heart.

  I’d known it all along, I just refused to accept it. Twisting my lips to the side, I desperately tried to keep my tears in. They’d gone from tears of frustration and hurt, to tears of relief. He didn’t have to be tied to me emotionally, but it was more than evident that I was falling hard for my husband. That was the last thing I wanted.

  Dang it. What was wrong with me? Did I fall for the first guy I got hitched to? The backwardness of the truth wasn’t hard to see, but the truth was hard to accept.

  “We only have a couple months, and I know we agreed to quit and to give up, but... If we’re going to give up... I think I want to quit now. I can’t do this anymore.” His words struck like a sledgehammer to my heart. I swallowed even as my body rejected his comments and I tried to choke.

  After I got myself under control, I blinked and whispered, “You want to give up? You don’t want to try to make it another few months? Just give up?” And it didn’t matter what I did, the tears came. Thankfully the darkness covered them.

  Why was I so easy to discard?

  Chapter 15

  “No, it’s not that I want to give up, right now. It’s that I need to protect myself. I’m getting attached to you and I don’t want to. The closer we get to separating and the longer we’ve been together, the harder it’s going to be for me to say goodbye. I’m around you...” He reached up and softly traced the line of my cheek, his touch intoxicatingly rough, yet soft at the same time. “I like you. I don’t want my feelings to turn into anything more, especially when we’re going to say goodbye, anyway.”

  I leaned into his touch, aching with words I longed to say, but held back by pride – the little bit I still had. “I understand. Can we get some rest and talk about it tomorrow?” I was exhausted and he looked even more defeated.

  He sighed, looking away from me as if I hadn’t heard him, as if I wasn’t torn apart by what he said. “Yeah, I have the day off from bucking tomorrow. We can talk then.” Logan disappeared to the bathroom and the sound of the shower running prodded me to lock up and get to bed.

  I went to his room and climbed into bed, certain he’d joined me after he completed his shower. I left the door open and the sconce light closest to the door turned on, but he never came. It wasn’t until much later when I heard the door to my old room closing, that I realized what he’d done. He had separated himself from me, probably ready to give up altogether the next day.

  I closed my eyes. Too disappointed to cry. Too torn up to react emotionally. I had nothing left to give. Everything came crashing around me. I didn’t need him to pay my bills. I needed him to see our potential.

  Had I really just failed at my second marriage?

  ~~~

  The next morning dawned greedy and dreary. I wrapped myself in a long sleeve thermal top, sweatshirt, and jeans. I would protect myself from any more pain. I was done being hurt by all the men in my life. Enough was enough.

  Why did I have to accept Logan’s decision? I wasn’t ready for him to shut me out. I didn’t want to give up, screw the money. I wanted an honest chance at him and me. Didn’t we deserve that?

  At breakfast, I set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him with a side of sausage. My attempt at a peace offering could be construed as anything, but I really just wanted to eat breakfast with him before he ripped my heart out the rest of the way.

  My latest task came to mind. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you have anything that’s broken or I can fix?”

  He softly shook his head and picked up his fork. “No, I just need money. Just like you do. I have a specific amount I need, and it sounds like you might have the same issue. It’s not like this is something we can hold a garage sale for.” He chuckled.

  He was right. We couldn’t have a garage sale to fix our problems. My job only provided so much cash, just like his did. A garage sale wouldn’t provide more than a couple hundred bucks at the most, even with all the amazing items his parents had collected.

  I wanted to help him, but I didn’t know any other way to make money off the top of my head. If I did, I’d be rich by then.

  ~~~

  My phone buzzed through my depression and I glared at the glowing screen.

  The text from my mother read, “Derek will win the lawsuit. Our accounts are frozen. Sign the papers he’s sending you and agree to all the terms. He is claiming half your money while you were married. Why haven’t you sent the papers?”

  I furrowed my brow, confused and more than a little scared that what she said was true. I texted back, my fingers flying furiously over the touch screen QWERTY pad. “I sent them. I have the tracking number. Didn’t you get them? I don’t have enough to pay him.” I had been making a lot and squirreling away for when Logan and I got a divorce.

  The lump sum I had in there right now wouldn’t be enough to pay Derek or pay off Logan’s debt, but it would be enough to get me a small apartment in a town where everyone needed organization skills or to have access to the internet to be available to those that did.

  I texted again. “I’m sorry he’s coming after you. What can I do?” Guilt that my actions were coming back to haunt others had me scrunching my forehead.

  “Sign the papers and work with him.” Her text ripped me of any choice I might have. I didn’t have an option when someone else was tied up and I could do something to help them.

  I’d gotten a tracking number for the papers and logged onto the website to check the status and see where they’d gone. But the package was registered as delivered a week ago. A week ago!

  Yanking out my phone, I texted her again. “Mom, the package was delivered to your place last week. I have the tracking information.”

  She didn’t give the courtesy of a response. They probably hadn’t gotten the mail. I wouldn’t put it past Derek to watch the house and inspect the mail. That just smelled of something he would do.

  Overwhelming desperation made me lay my head on the table with my hands folded in my lap. My face turned to the right and I scanned Logan’s house. The thread of the tablecloth was coarse on my cheek.

  How ironic that all Logan needed was a bunch of cash and he had all of those valuable antiques lying around. I grunted when I thought of the easy money I’d made for a client a year or so ago when I’d listed items for him online.

  Easy... I glanced around at the living room and kitchen. Money...

  I slowly lifted my head as I mentally ran over the inventory in my head. I’d inventoried everything in the house. Everything. He had things in there I had never even heard of that would probably be very valuable if they were offered for auction.

  Retrieving the itemized list, I’d stuck into my bag upstairs, I ran out to Logan in the shop. He was pulling on another stocking hat, probably to go out and plow some snow out of the chicken yard.

  I took a moment to catch my breath. Being aro
und him didn’t help. “Logan, are you attached to everything in the house and the shop?” I held the papers in a tight grip between my fingers. Hopeful didn’t describe the wave of optimism flooding through me. Was my idea warranted? Could I do something that would help him?

  He looked at me quizzically and softly shook his head, barely moving. “No. My parents were hoarders. Nothing in there has any meaning for me.” The neutrality of his voice stung, but I recognized protective measures when I heard them.

  I licked my bottom lip. Logan’s eyes flicked to my mouth and then back to my eyes.

  “Can you get rid of it? I mean, are you attached to any of it?” My idea would have to work, he had a Horwitz recorder in an upstairs bedroom, but it didn’t look like it had ever been touched. In fact, a few of the bedrooms upstairs had been stuffed full of never-been-opened items that reeked of collectible quality.

  He shuffled closer to me, his hands in his pockets and his eyes framed by the gray of the hat. “I don’t know how to get rid of it. A garage sale won’t work out here. There’s not enough traffic. Even if there was, Grangeville doesn’t have enough people to fund what I’d need. I don’t want anything in there, that I can think of. What do you have in mind?”

  I allowed my smile to grow. For the first time since Valentine’s Day, I actually had hope we could help each other – friends or not. I thrust the inventory sheets toward him. “I’ve done this before, I’ve inventoried people’s things and helped them sell them online. It would be easy to get rid of the things in there. With a little bit of research, I could get a good solid price for each of them to start with and we can try to sell them. You have some items in there, Logan, that have never been touched and they’re almost forty-years-old. If we could find some collectors, you could get some serious money.”

  I chewed on my inner cheek again, waiting for his reaction.

  He slowly took the sheets from me and flipped through the pages. “You did this? You inventoried all that?” I couldn’t tell if it was awe or doubt at my motives in his tone.