Sidelines (Wounded Hearts #1) (4 page)

I turn and find that Logan isn’t standing where he was a second ago and I momentarily freeze up again until I hear Logan’s impatient voice.

“Allie, come on. Even though we’re in the basement, it’s actually safer in here. Please hurry.” I let the light of my flashlight flood the pathway before me and find that it’s a direct shot to the metal door that Logan is holding open. “Here we go.”

He pushes the door closed behind me, and searching the room I find a camping cot, complete with a hand-stitched quilt and a small pillow laying along one wall. A couple of bagged lawn chairs sit in another corner with a huge Rubbermaid container next to them. I sense Logan moving behind me and finally see his light following mine to the chairs and bin.

“Would you like some water?” He hands me a chair and turns back around to open the mini fridge I missed next to the door. He pulls out a couple of bottles of water and starts to hand me one, but I’m still standing there like an idiot with the bagged chair in my hands. “Do you need help with that?” 

I shake the light along with my head, accidentally flashing my light in his eyes. He winces back and I mutter my apologies as he takes the light from me.

“I’m sorry. I…I’ve never been in a tornado before.” And it has me all sorts of rattled.

“Well, I don’t think we’re in an actual tornado, but I can honestly say that should one form, you’re probably in the best place to ride it out. Here.” He takes the light from me and props it on its handle so the beam goes straight up toward the ceiling, illuminating more of our space. Then he takes the chair from me and sets it up. I think I see an amused smile on his face when he hands me a water, but with the shadows of the room, I could be wrong.

As he makes himself comfortable his phone rings and I realize I have no way of checking in with anyone. He checks the screen before he answers and makes his way to the farthest corner of the room away from me.

“Hey… No, we’re in the basement… Yep, she’s here. What about you guys?… Where is she?…Of course, she is. Is she at least somewhere safe?…Yep. I  saw the wall cloud, but it didn’t look like it was going to head this way. They’re unpredictable though, so promise me you’ll stay safe…Okay. Love you too.”

He hangs up his phone and turns to me, finding me watching him and this time I can’t miss the hardening of his jaw.

“Everyone okay?” I ask, genuinely concerned.

“Yep.”

That’s it. That’s all I get. This is going to be a long three weeks.

“Do you guys get tornadoes often?”

“Not really.”

I sigh. I can’t help it. “Listen, Logan.—” I’m cut off with the sound of his phone ringing again.

He holds up a finger and answers. “Did you get all the horses in?… And everyone’s in the shelter?…Good. Let me know when they give the all clear…Will do. You guys too.”

He hangs the phone up and gives me another deadpan look. “Sorry about that. You were saying?”

“I just wanted to say that I know that this article is kind of a big deal to both of us, so I’m going to do whatever I can to make it go smoothly. But that also kinda means that you’re going to have to give me the benefit of the doubt and open up just a bit. I’d say I don’t need your entire life story, but I really do.” That jaw hardens again. “I know that some people—and I’m guessing you belong to this group—don’t like everyone knowing their business. So I promise to only report the things that will help make you a positive image in the fans’ eyes. Can you trust me to do that?”

He doesn’t answer; he just stares me down. Even in the dim light, I can see that his eyes would reflect the deepest waters of the sea. I’m not sure what nerve I’ve struck, but apparently it isn’t a good one.

“Miss Mooreland—”

“Allie. We’re going to be spending some serious time together the next few weeks. We might as well be on a first name basis.”

He presses his lips together, clearly not happy with my statement, but acquiesces on my request anyway. “Fine, Allie. You’re right, I am one of those people. I don’t like people knowing my business, so you’ll probably find me harder to work with than most of the people you’ve interviewed.”

Try
anyone
I’ve ever interviewed.

“But let me make a few things perfectly clear. I will not allow you to slander my family’s name in any way, shape, or form. If I tell you something is off the record, or simply choose not to answer your question, that is the end of it. I will not answer a single question multiple times, so asking again will only be a waste of your, and ultimately my, time. And lastly, I run a full-fledged ranch here. I cannot and will not be at your beck and call while you’re in Walker, so please make efficient use of our time together.”

Oh dear, this is going to my hardest assignment yet. All concerns for the raging weather above us is forgotten as I do my best to rein in my heightening temper.

“I see. Well, since we’re here, I need to clear the air as well. First, I have never and do not ever plan on slandering anyone’s name. Secondly, I understand the circumstances of your home here, and will do my best to ‘make efficient use’ of my time here. And lastly, I understand your need for privacy and promise to only venture onto topics that help me understand what makes you such a fantastic player. However, I am here with one goal in mind: to make America fall in love with Logan Lassiter. That means knowing all that I’ve got working against me, so I can’t guarantee that everything I ask about is always going to be roses and sunshine. So like I said, I will do my best to respect your privacy. But I am good at my job and again, I must ask you to trust me.”

A stare down of epic proportions starts and honestly I have to say I’m admiring his sense of determination. Finally he looks away, still working that jaw. He must have a really good dentist.

“Fine.”

I almost sigh in relief. Almost.

Thunder claps so loudly that it sounds like it is in the room above us, making me jump again.

“It’s just thunder, that’s a good sign actually.” Logan sits back and actually looks like he’s relaxing in the midst of this storm. I, on the other hand, have started flipping my dead phone over and over in my hand. At one point while we continue to wait in silence, I start to ask if there is someplace that can charge my phone, but then the intellectual part of my brain starts working again and reminds me we’re sitting in the dark for a reason.

Logan’s phone starts ringing again and with one glance my way, he decides to forgo moving back to the corner to take the call.

“Yes…Okay. Thank you.” He hangs the phone up and stands. “It’s all clear.”

Oh thank you, Jesus!

We don’t speak as we pack up our chairs and make our way back toward the stairs. Just as we’re about to ascend, the lights flutter back on and Logan stops mid-step, making me bump right into him. Like my face meets his lower back and when I put my hands up to stop myself from falling backward, I grab hold of the first thing I can to stable myself—his hips.

Talk about getting up close and personal.

“Um, sorry.” I immediately let go, only to sway backward and nearly fall off the bottom step. But a warm hand shoots out and grabs hold of mine, sending sparks flying through my veins. Instinctively he pulls me to him, bracing us against the wall.

“I got ya. Here.” He steps out of the way and helps pull me up onto the same step he’s on. I get my balance back only to realize that there is quite literally next to no space between us. The air gets super thick and a lump gets stuck in my throat.

I haven’t been this close to anyone in a long time and the fluttering in my stomach is quick to remind me of that. But our conversation from earlier replays in my mind, reminding me of the man behind the disarmingly good looking mask. Clearing the fog gets easier and in no time at all, I’m able to finish my way up the stairs. I don’t turn around to make sure that Logan made it up too, but I hear when his boots hit the wood floors of his family room.

A quick glance out the window tells me that a tornado didn’t rip through the countryside, so I start to make my way outside. Just as I step back into the stunning kitchen I’ll be daydreaming about for the rest of my life, Logan’s phone starts ringing again.

“Hey. Have you left shelter yet?…Yep. Just got upstairs. Haven’t seen anything…Okay, I’ll be over in just a bit.” By the time he steps into the kitchen he’s hung the phone up but startled to see me still standing there gawking at his home.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, clearly seeing the stress furrow his brow

“Yep.” 

Crossing my arms, I plant myself to wait for further explanation. A heavy exhale and a hand through his hair later, he finally speaks up. “A tree fell on my parents’ barn. Nobody was hurt, but they need help getting the tree off of it before it falls any further and damages more than just the building.”

See? Was that really that hard?

“What can I do to help?”

He looks at me as if I’ve grown a second set of arms. “What do you mean help? You need to get checked in to your hotel or whatever and come back tomorrow. We can meet after dinner, say around six, six-thirty.”

Shake my head, I knew he was going to say something like that. “Is there even an inn left? If a tornado came through here—”

“You’re staying in Walker?” he asks, aghast.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because we only have the inn. The nearest hotel has to be—”

“In the city. And I’m not driving over an hour every time I need to see or talk to someone here.”

Another hand through his hair. That pretty head of his is going to go prematurely bald if he keeps that up. “We don’t know if anything touched down. How about we just drive through town and see what damage has been done.”

I nod, trying to brace myself for up close images of destroyed homes and businesses. Twenty minutes later it has been determined that a tornado didn’t actually touch down in town, but the wind was so bad that it took out a couple of the store-front windows on several of the downtown shops, blew down all three stoplights on the main strip, and caused several transformers throughout the community—including the one that feeds power to the one line to the inn—to blow up. When we pull up to the inn, a group of weary looking firefighters are exiting the building. This doesn’t look good.

“Hey, Logan. Your ranch fare okay?” An alert looking police officer wearing a shiny badge on his left shoulder that identified himself as Sheriff Perry reaches a hand out to Logan. He couldn’t be much older than Logan, but the hair around his temples is peppered with bits of gray, a telltale sign that he’s seen his fair share of stress. Judging by the look of his town, I can understand why.

“Yeah, we’re good. Dad had a tree fall on the barn, though. We’re headed over there in a few.” The good sheriff nodded my way before doing a double take. His wide eyed look is missed by the football star who can’t pry his own eyes off the blackened building. “A fire? Really?”

The sheriff shakes his head, apparently used to Logan’s single-track mind. “Yeah. Power surged when lightning hit the transformer. The place needed an update ten years ago. Looks like they’ll have to replace the electrical now. We were able to contain it to just the one room though. Should be able to get things back up and running in a couple of weeks.”

Logan and I sigh heavily at the same time, bringing an amused look too the good sheriff.

“You staying long, Allie?” Remembering my manners I reach out my hand and formally introduce myself. The sheriff blushes a little when we shake hands, but the ring on his left hand makes me chalk it up to just being star struck.

“I’m doing a piece on our favorite wide receiver here.” Logan’s jaw ticks again. “I just drove in from San Antonio today, but it looks like I’ll be in and out for the next few weeks.”

“Well, welcome to Walker, although you picked a doozy of a day to arrive.” He nods at us with a tired smile before being called away. I take in a deep breath and cringe at the sight of the fire damaged building in front of us.

“Awesome.” Logan’s sarcasm isn’t lost on me.

“What now?” My irritation bleeds out a bit more than it probably should but his long gaze down at me tells me that he’s about to do something he probably ought not to and that picks my hopes back up.

“Looks like you get to meet my family.”

Chapter Four

The truck bounces over the cattle grate while I take in the picturesque sight in front of me. A weathered, two-story farm house with a welcoming front porch faces the dirt drive that wraps around to the east side of the house and leads straight toward a newer looking big red barn. The barn, with large, white X’s on the sliding doors, would look like a storybook barn if it didn’t have a ninety-year-old tree leaning into and crashing down the south wall. A skirt of grass wraps around it, exposing the roots of the old tree. A green John Deere tractor is creeping its way toward the toppled tree, an older version of Logan at the wheel.

Logan parks his massive Dodge Ram next to a short line of other farm trucks, a well-kept 90s Ford Explorer, and a tiny Toyota Corolla that looks like it’s seen a few better days. When Logan comes around the front of the truck and offers a hand to help me climb down from his land yacht, two ladies coming down the wide front porch steps stop and do a double take. The older lady with the most adorable red ringlets I’ve ever seen has the same eyes as Logan and judging by the excitedly warm smile on her face, I’m guessing she’s his mother. The younger girl has the same shade of hair as Logan’s but her shorter stature and dark brown eyes give her a totally different appeal. The pleased grin on her face tells me she has to be way warmer than her older brother.

“Logan, honey. Thank you for coming.” Logan’s mother reaches up and wraps strong, lean arms around his wide shoulders and kisses his cheek. Then she turns to me and holds a hand out. Her skin is soft, but firm, a definite sign that the majority of her day is spent keeping this place in line and there isn’t a task that she isn’t willing to jump in and help out with. “I’m Jillian, Logan’s mother.”

Her mother hen eyes shoot him a look that clearly chastises him for one, his bad manners, and two, not letting her know that he was bringing company.

“Mom, Lucy, this is Allie Mooreland. Allie, my mother and sister. Allie’s came to
help
.”

I’m not sure if the emphasis was to remind me that this wasn’t the time to start questioning his family or let his family know that this wasn’t the time to break out the baby books.

“Well, that’s awfully kind of you, but you don’t have to—”

“I’d like to. Please.” I interrupt Jillian. A wide-eyed, surprised look crosses Logan’s sister’s face as she tries to communicate something to her big brother. Logan’s jaw ticks again as he gives his sister a sharp, impassive look.

“Alrighty then. What do you know about gardens?” Jillian asks, taking my arm and leading me toward the corner of the land this side of the fence. A fairly large vegetable garden marked off with what looks like thin, wired fencing sits in a space of land between the back of the house and where a wooden fence meets the barn.

“Um, the basics. Seed goes in the dirt, make sure it gets plenty of water and sunlight and when the vegetable looks ripe, you can pick it.”

Lucy chuckles at my simplicity. “That’s about right.”

Jillian smiles amusedly too. “Well the wind sure has done a number on our pea plants. Think you could help us brace some of the larger plants up?”

“Show me what you need me to do. I’m a fast learner.” Both ladies seem delighted to have me here to help, but the feeling of someone watching us makes me turn to find Logan standing where we left him, his feet spread apart and his sculpted arms crossed over his chest.

“Ignore him,” Lucy tells me as she opens the little gate to the garden and picking up a bucket that hangs from the fence. “He’s…”

“Lucy.” Jillian halts her from whatever she was going to say, shooting her a stern look.

“What? I was just going to say he’s overprotective. You’re not here to dig up some dirt that isn’t here, are you Allie?”

Both women stare at me, desperation that I’m not here to smear Logan’s good name written all over their face.

“No, I’m not. I’m here to help with this garden. And later, when the timing is better, I’ll have a few questions about him for everyone. But now’s not the time. So show me what I can do to help.”

Lucy turns a triumphant grin to her mother before heading down the side of the garden toward a row of bushes. Jillian doesn’t smile, but nods her head, accepting my answer for the time being. Ten minutes later, I’m helping Lucy fill a bucket full of snap beans and holding up bent over bushes so Jillian can plant a wooden stake in the ground next to them and tie them up so they stand erect. As we move onto a row of cantaloupe and the girls proceed to tell me how the melons need to be turned to keep from molding, another set of car doors slam and a few minutes later, a tall girl with hair as red as Jillian’s and a young man who looks like he could be the star quarterback on the local high school team walk hand in hand toward the John Deere where Logan and his father are working with a group of guys to wrap a chain around the large tree.

I get distracted for a second and watch as the girl wraps her arms around Logan while he only uses on arm to hug her back. He reaches out and shakes the young man’s hand. Even from sixty yards away, I can tell that Logan’s still surly and he seems to be taking it out on the kid.

“Who’s that?” I ask, forgetting that I’m not supposed to be in investigative mode.

“Emma and Owen,” Lucy says, not registering that I wouldn’t know who they could be.

“Logan’s other sister and her boyfriend. They were in San Antonio when the storm blew through. I’ll be right back.” Jillian gets up off the ground without any preamble and leaves me and Lucy to continue working. I try to get back to work, but my inquisitive mind won’t let me tear my eyes away from Jillian as she hugs her daughter.

“So how long are you going to be in Walker?” Lucy’s sing-song voice asks, finally pulling my attention back to the garden.

“Um, a few weeks. I have a long list of people who I’d like to talk to.”

“Good luck with that.” Lucy snorts.

“What do you mean by that?” I reach down and find a baby cantaloupe that is soaked, I gently turn it so as not to sever the connection to the vine and lay it back down, wet side out.

“Logan is a private person. Too much so if you ask me. He doesn’t like people prying.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m prying so much as just trying to get to know him.”

Lucy looks up from the plant she’s tending to and wipes her arm over her forehead, pushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

“He’s a hard person to get to know. I’m his sister and I feel like I hardly know him.”

Fantastic. “Well, if you have any tips on getting him to talk, I’m all ears.”

A comical look crosses her face before she chortles. “Same here.”

Sighing, I’m just about to move on down the row when the sound of the gate opening pulls my attention toward the girls who are joining us.

“Allie, this is Emma.” Emma stops at the end of the row I’m working in and gives me a pleasant nod.

“It’s nice to meet you. I saw your interview. I’m sorry my brother was being a jerk.” Dimples on either side of her face give her a welcoming air and I wonder who else in the family has that trait. Logan’s facial hair would keep his hidden, but from the few encounters I’ve had with Drew, I don’t remember seeing anything so adorable on his face.

“Emma!” Jillian chastises her daughter, but I’m just relieved that I’m not the only person who thought that meeting was a disaster.

“Come on, Mom. You saw how he was being deliberately vague. I get that he’s Logan and that’s just how he naturally is, but it was just rude of him to be so curt during an interview. He could have put forth a little effort.”

Jillian pressed her lips together as if she’s trying not to agree with her daughter in front of me, so I politely nod my appreciation to Emma and set my focus back on the cantaloupe in front of me.

“So this article,” Emma continues, “you’ve kinda got your work cut out for you, you know.”

Oh, I know.

I don’t realize I said that out loud until all three girls burst out in laughter. Even Jillian gives me an apologetic look.

“Be patient with him. It’s easy to push his buttons, but if there’s anything I’ve deduced from watching you over the years it’s that if anyone can get anything out of my sweet boy, it’ll be you.”

Jillian’s kind words give me hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, I might pull this story off.

***

A few hours later, dusk is upon us and the branches that were crushing the roof of the barn have been removed, split into firewood, and the tree has been moved to lay alongside the barn. Everyone is sweaty, tired and starting to feel the stress of the day. Jillian and the girls invite me in to make a pitcher of sweet tea for everyone who came out to help. Glasses to have been passed to everyone and although the tea definitely helps to quench my thirst, my stomach is starting to grumble. Not to mention that I’ve got to figure out if there are any vacancies at the hotels over an hour away.

“I’ve got a pot roast in the oven. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes if y’all want to join us.” Jillian tells the gentlemen who are all placing their glasses on a tray on a table on the front porch. One by one the other local men state their appreciation but decline the offer of food. When they all take off toward their trucks, Owen, Logan, and his father, Sam, start to make their way back to the porch too. With his hands in his pockets, Logan looks relaxed as he jokes with his father who has a hand cupped over his shoulder. They’re laughing about something, but when they reach the front porch and find me sitting with Logan’s mother and sisters, Logan stops in his tracks and his face hardens again.

“Dinner’ll be ready in about twenty, honey.” Jillian picks up a glass and hands it to her husband. “Logan, you and Allie are welcome to join us. She’s been a big help today.” Logan’s steady gaze doesn’t leave mine, and it takes him a moment to acknowledge his mother’s words.

“Thanks, Mom, but I need to get Allie back to town. She’s got to get on the road soon.”

I didn’t realize how much of a good time I was having getting to know Logan’s sisters until the idea of leaving them left Logan’s mouth.

“On the road? I thought you were staying in town?” Lucy looks at me, confused. Emma moves into Owen’s opening arms and sinks into his embrace as she turns curious eyes to me too.

“Well, I was going to stay at the inn, but it apparently caught fire this afternoon.”

Gasps and inquiries about people’s safety are thrown out into the evening air, all the while Logan watches my every move expressionlessly. I’m starting to feel like I’ve done something wrong by the way his hard stare won’t leave my person.

“So you’re driving back to San Antonio tonight?” Emma asks, having put two and two together. “You can ride back with me and Owen. You could stay with me at my apartment if you’d like.”

“No, she can stay here. There’s plenty of room and that way you won’t be wasting so much time driving back and forth.” Jillian’s leery disposition long forgotten since we’ve spent the last few hour chatting. We’ve covered everything from life in California and my college career to my favorite stadiums to report games from. I’ve gotten to learn a little about Lucy and Emma too, mostly just about where they go to school and activities they love. The two girls seem to have forgotten all about the real reason I’m even in Texas, making me feel welcome and wanted. I can tell we’ll be good friends during my stay.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by all the hospitality, but I’m completely blindsided by the offers to stay in these people’s homes. Never have I built such trust so quickly with anyone, including Maggie and Walt. That’s just a true testament to their ability to parent me.

“I couldn’t,” I say, politely turning down their offers at the same time that Logan says, “No.”

All heads turn to his vehemency. “She’s going to stay at the ranch.” That jaw tenses again and I’m beginning to think this is a signature look for him.

“I am?” I say confusedly at that same time every single member of his family says, “She is?” with equal amounts of confusion.

“Um. Yeah. You can have the guest room downstairs.” His pointed stare watches my reaction, which isn’t anything more than total shock and awe.

“Do you think that’s such a good idea, son?” Logan’s father’s stern look matches his son’s.

“It’ll be fine. And it’ll be temporary. Just until the inn is back up and running.”

“She really can stay here, Logan. There’s plenty of room in Emma’s old room and Allie’s already shown—”

“I said she’s staying at the ranch.” Logan finally turns his steady gaze away from me to stare at his mother. Something passes between them and finally she nods, backing down. Lucy and Emma exchange looks before Emma shakes her head and turns toward Owen.

“Take me back to the dorms?” Her tired look earns her a kiss to the forehead from her super sweet boyfriend. He hops off the railing of the porch and hugs Jillian and rubs the top of Lucy’s head before shaking hands with the other men. He stops in front of me and extends his hand.

“It was nice to meet you, Allie. I hope we’ll see each other again.” There isn’t a hint of flirting in his tone, but I sense a shift in Logan as he comes to stand behind me. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I take Owen’s hand.