Authors: Janet Dailey
Jennifer remained silent when he finished, stunned by his unexpected endorsement of the female species.
'What's the matter, Jenny Glenn? Aren't those words you expected to hear from a womanizer?' She couldn't help flushing at his astuteness. 'Despite all our arrogant boasting to the contrary, we men require a woman to fulfil the demands of our soul as well as to satisfy the needs of our flesh.' A shiver raced up Jennifer's back at his words. Could he feel that way about a woman?, she thought, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. His profile beneath the wide brim of his stetson hat was deeply etched against the white backdrop. His expression was pensive as he felt her gaze and turned to meet it. His brown eyes seemed much darker as they reached out to hold hers captive. Her pulse increased at an alarming rate as the corners of his mouth curved into the most tender smile. Quickly she averted her face before she revealed too much of what she was feeling.
'That sounds like an apt description of love, Logan.' She spoke brightly in an effort to halt the tumultuous hammering of her heart. 'Are you on speaking terms with this emotion?'
His answering chuckle was short but rich with amusement.
'Would it appeal to your quixotic heart if I said I was waiting for the ghost of a former lover to fade before revealing my feelings to the one I cherish and adore? No, I can see by the stricken look on your face that you wouldn't believe a tale like that. Not that you wouldn't like to see me brought to my knees by a woman.' Logan pulled the horse to a halt, then turned sideways in the seat, laying an arm along the back near Jennifer. Two smug dimples winked over at her. 'My mother says I'm sampling the fruits so that at harvest time I'll be able to pick the most delectable one.'
'That's the most pompous reasoning I've ever heard.' Her mind was not willing to ignore his first response about the ghost of a former lover. Could he Possibly have been referring to Sheila's late husband, Eric?
'Oh, it's not so bad. Isn't that what these parrying and thrusting conversations between the sexes are all about? To see if there's more than just physical chemistry? Look at the two of us. There's a certain combustible mixture between us. A rousing of the baser instincts, I believe you once called it,' Logan stated, alluding back to their battle of words after the kiss in the snow. Anger swept through Jennifer, stiffening her back and tilting her head defiantly. 'Perhaps I should ask if you've been in love before. Or was that man back in Minneapolis just an experiment at love to see how deep your emotion for him was?'
'That's none of your business!'
'It couldn't have been love because I only see anger in your eyes,' deriving amusement once again out of her display of temper. 'There seems to be no lasting wound.'
'How could Sheila have the nerve to tell you about that?' Jennifer fumed.
'Believe me, I only received the sketchiest of details, and that was because I was there when you phoned.'
She eyed him skeptically and in spite of his exaggerated air of innocence, she believed him. Mostly because she didn't think her sister could be that unfeeling of Jennifer's privacy to tell a complete stranger the entire story.
'What were you doing with Sheila at that hour…sampling fruit?' Sarcasm coated every word.
'Darling Jenny,' Logan sighed, 'that kind of a statement is more slanderous to your sister's reputation than to mine.'
'I thought you said there wasn't any double standard in Wyoming for women,' Jennifer observed with deadly amusement. Inwardly she regretted the smear to her sister, but outwardly she couldn't resist another jibe at his male ego.
'We recognize equality, but we honour propriety.' Logan's amused exasperation was beginning to show the edges of anger, even though carefully controlled. 'A hangover from the pioneer days, too, I suppose, when chivalry was an admirable trait and the fairer sex was respected.'
The horse moved restlessly against the traces, no longer content to stand patiently in the snow. Logan slapped the reins lightly on her rump, and the horse started off at a slow trot. The horse-drawn vehicle passed several sheds filled with hay before Jennifer was able to swallow enough pride to speak.
'I apologize. I spoke out of line back there, and I just want you to know I'm grateful for everything you've done for Sheila—and the children.'
'And I apologize for taunting you so.' The full charm of his smile was turned on her as his hand, resting on the back of the seat, reached out and tugged her hair. 'But then you were being a little impertinent.' His hand rested momentarily on her shoulder, sending breathless shivers of heat through her before it returned to aid the other one in slowing the horse to a walk. Logan's gaze was now directed in front of them. 'We've reached our destination, Jenny. There's your elk.'
She had been so completely engrossed in their conversation and aware only of the man beside her that she had paid no attention at all to their surroundings. Looking forward, Jennifer saw a large blotch of brown in the distance. Nearer to them was another hayshed and a smaller building with two wagons and teams of horses standing beside it.
'The Jaycees and the refuge, in a cooperative effort, operate a sleigh ride to the elk herd,' Logan explained following her questioning gaze.
A man walked out of the small building and waved a friendly hello to them. Logan reined their horse to a halt and waited until the man walked up to their sleigh.
'Hello, Frank,' Logan smiled. 'I thought I'd take Miss Glenn for a closer look at the herd.'
'Fine, fine' the man smiled. 'Probably won't be able to get too close, though. They're still kinda skittish, and especially so of a strange sled.'
'Thanks, we'll be careful,' Logan nodded before clicking to the horse.
As they drew closer, Jennifer was able to distinguish individual animals amidst the sea of brown. Some were lying down; some were standing; some were grazing; and some were watching their approach. She sat in awed silence studying the grey-brown bodies with their chestnut manes and straw-coloured rumps. Two females reared at each other, hooves striking out, disputing ownership of a salt block. A big bull elk with an enormous rack of antlers eyed them haughtily.
'In Europe these animals are known as moose, although you can see they bear no resemblance to the animal we call moose. The males stand about five feet tall at the shoulder and top out at about a thousand pounds. The females are smaller. The males you see with the short, spiked antlers are usually one or two years old. The older bulls will have five or six points on each antler.' Logan's low voice came from just behind her ear.
'Where do they all come from?' Jennifer wished the unsettling awareness of how close he was to her would go away.
'Mostly from the Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks to the north. At the first good snow they migrate down here to the refuge.'
'Have they always come here?'
'No, they used to travel further south to the plains around Rock Springs. In the 1880s when ranching operations cut their winter forage to practically nothing, both here in Jackson Hole and elsewhere, they began starving to death. One spring it was said you could walk for miles on the carcasses of dead elk. Plus the elk had to contend with hunters called tuskers, who killed them only for their teeth, which were highly prized by the Elk Lodge. That was finally outlawed and the refuge established by Congress in 1913.'
An eerie, yapping wail broke out from the hillside, joined by several other equally mournful voices. The uncanny howl, like an animal in pain, sent shivers down Jennifer's spine. She glanced at Logan apprehensively.
'Don't you like the serenade? It's coyotes. They're the sanitarians of the wild, cleaning up the carcasses of dead animals.'
'Don't they attack the herd?'
'They don't need to. There are always crippled and wounded elk that make their way to the refuge after hunting season. Some make it through the winter, but others are too weak to survive. Others die simply from old age. The coyotes and other scavengers like the raven live very well.'
'How horrible!' Jennifer shuddered expressively.
'Just the balance of Nature,' Logan reasoned, but with a sympathetic smile. 'Look there on the hillside.' His arm reached around her to point. She trembled, but this time not because of the coyotes. 'You can see our dubious choir there by that stand of pines.'
She looked obediently in the direction, knowing that he must be able to feel the quaking of her body even through her coat.
'Are you cold, Jenny?'
Her heart leaped at his words and the sudden tightening of his arm around her shoulder. Although she stiffened slightly, he pulled her closer to him, his hand rubbing her shoulders briskly.
'We'd better head for home and get you in front of a warm fire,' he said calmly, either ignoring her resistance or unaware of it as he urged the mare into a trot. 'Very rarely do you see other animals in the refuge,' Logan continued conversationally. 'Deer and moose usually find their own forage in the Park or migrate south. Sometimes you see the rare trumpeter swan on the refuge waters. They spend the year here. There's a fish hatchery as well, but we'll see that another time.'
Jennifer nodded a silent agreement, resolving inwardly that she wasn't going to subject herself to this type of an intimate excursion again. He was too physically attractive for her peace of mind.
They made the circle in silence past the small building housing the concession ride with Logan, raising a hand in good-bye to the man named Frank. Once again the jingling bells on the horse's harness were the only sounds heard in the silence of a wintry afternoon. The shiny black sleigh with its curving sides seemed to snuggle its two riders in its lap. Jennifer romantically pictured herself resting against Logan's side, his arm hugging her to him. She blamed the idea on the old-fashioned setting and not on any desire on her part for such a scene to take place with Logan.
His gloved hand moved to rest on the side of her neck, caressing it affectionately.
'You can rest your head on my shoulder if you want,' Logan suggested. Jennifer's eyes flashed resentful sparks of anger at him. Trust him to know that she had just thought of the singularly inviting idea herself!
'I'm perfectly all right, thank you,' she said firmly, moving as far away from him as the small seat would allow, which wasn't very far.
'What's the matter? Are you afraid I had designs on your virtue?' His seductive glance played havoc with her pulse.
'No, I was merely assuring you that I was warm enough and comfortable enough not to need to make use of your—your—'
His bewitching smile melted her attempt at cool composure and he finished her sentence for her. 'Shoulder is the word.'
'I know,' Jennifer retorted indignantly. She was only too aware that he knew exactly what effect he had upon her senses. She maintained silence the rest of the ride back to the house.
'Well, Jenny Glenn, here we are, safe and sound.' Logan baited her roguishly as he reined the horse to a stop in front of Sheila's.
He stepped down off the sleigh and turned to place his hands firmly around her waist before lifting her to the ground. She stared angrily up at his bemused expression as he failed to release her from the circle of his arms. Breathlessly she saw his gaze fasten on her lips. For one horrifying moment she thought he was going to kiss her. His sensuous masculine lips hovered invitingly above hers, reminding her how vulnerable and responsive she had been the last time that they had exquisitely possessed hers with a wild sweetness.
'I had a very nice time, Logan,' she rushed in hurriedly, knowing her inner confusion made her words sound stiff and insincere.
'As much as you would allow yourself,' Logan laughed. His gaze shifted from her lips to encompass her entire face with an amused detachment. His hands returned to his side and she was free.
'It never hurts to be on one's guard,' Jennifer retorted scathingly, stepping away from him before he changed his mind about having released her.
'Tell Sheila that I'll be out of town for the next day or two, will you?' he asked without rancour. 'When I get back, I'll probably have to spend a few days at the ranch. Unless I hear from her otherwise, Mother and I will be over about seven on Christmas Eve.'
'Christmas Eve?' Jennifer questioned in stunned surprise. 'What are you coming over for?'
'Mother and I usually come over for an hour or so on Christmas Eve,' he frowned. 'It's been a tradition in our family since Eric and I were boys in school.'
'I didn't know.' Jennifer's reply was an apologetic whisper. The nearly burning resentment in his eyes had startled her. She was so accustomed to the charming side of him that she had forgotten until
this moment how dominatingly displeased he could become, and she didn't like being the object of his displeasure. 'We'll look forward to seeing you Christmas Eve, then,' Jennifer said calmly and with dignity.
'Till then,' Logan agreed with a half smile of politeness.
Jennifer passed Logan's message on to Sheila that evening. Her sister admitted in an offhand manner that it was something that they had done every year, confirming Logan's assertion.
'If you like, the children and I always get them a gift every year, nothing too expensive, but we can add your name to the card' Sheila had suggested.