Within seconds of agreeing to run the three-legged race with Logan, Molly recognized what a foolish mistake she’d made. She’d never been very good at saying no, especially to people she loved, and Logan’s folks were like second parents to her. How could she say no to Garrett when he was being so sweet about it?
And that wasn’t even bringing Pastor Charlie into the picture. Pastor couldn’t help it if he only knew half the story.
But running a three-legged race with her ex?
Oh, no.
She’d just made a much bigger mistake even than she’d originally realized. The only reason she could think of for why Garrett Maddox hadn’t informed Pastor Charlie as to the real status between Logan and Molly, the only reason he wanted to see his son bound together by the feet with Molly and working together as a team toward a common goal would be to get them back together as a couple.
She didn’t want to hurt Garrett’s or Helen’s feelings, but that was never going to happen. She knew how much they loved their son, and of course they had forgiven him for everything he’d done.
Molly had forgiven him—kind of. For her sake, not for his. Because she wanted to move on with her life.
But forgetting? That was another thing entirely.
She hoped she hadn’t just given Logan’s parents a sense of false hope. Of course they wanted the best for Logan and Judah in their future.
But Molly was no longer a part of Logan’s life, except as it regarded his son. She wasn’t what was best for him. Maybe she never had been.
Molly and Logan approached the starting line and Molly self-consciously tugged the rope tightly around their ankles.
Even bound together, they stood awkwardly apart for as long as possible. She felt silly and self-conscious standing this close to Logan.
“I’m surprised you agreed to this,” Logan said frankly. He’d always been a man who shot from the hip, and today wasn’t any different.
“Not half as much as I am,” Molly murmured, suddenly even more nervous as she realized she had absolutely no idea who this man was who was standing beside her. This was so very different from when they’d been in high school.
“Well, I guess we ought to...” Logan held out his arm and Molly realized she had no choice but to lean into his embrace. They weren’t going to get very far in this race if they didn’t hang on to each other.
He wrapped his arm securely around her shoulder, and she hesitantly slid hers around his waist. It had been a few years, but she remembered they needed to be solidly connected if they had any hope of winning this race.
In some ways Logan was a complete stranger to her. He’d grown at least two inches taller and had put on muscle in his arms and chest. He was no longer the lanky teenager she remembered, but a solidly built man.
And yet there was something so familiar, so right, about being in his arms again. She now fit under his shoulder as if she’d been made for it. Standing this close to him, she caught a strong whiff of his aftershave—a crisp, masculine scent that was completely Logan. That was something she’d remembered from his early years. Funny that he hadn’t changed his aftershave after all this time.
There had been times after he’d left her when she would smell that scent in passing at a department store or on the street and it would immediately bring back a string of memories she’d rather have forgotten. And then there was a jean jacket he’d left behind with her and had never claimed it again.
Near the beginning, on her worst nights after Logan had left her, she would inhale the scent of him on his jacket and cry herself to sleep. Those had been the first horrible nights full of such suffering and grief she’d thought she would never heal.
But she had.
She was so over him now—or thought she was—that she didn’t even know what had happened to that jean jacket. It was probably stuffed in the back of her closet somewhere.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Now here they stood, about to make a new memory—something that went beyond their checkered past and yet was somehow woven through it. And once again, this memory would be wrapped in Logan’s unique scent.
“Kinda like riding a bike, huh?” Logan asked, glancing down at her. He actually looked nervous, which Molly thought was a little odd, considering that he’d been an outstanding athlete in his youth.
“If you say so.” Molly thought perhaps the maelstrom of emotions swirling through her might put them at a distinct disadvantage even with Logan’s help.
The last time they’d run this particular race together, they’d been a team in every sense of the word. Moving together had been as natural as breathing for the two of them. They’d been a couple, emotionally and spiritually. They’d been growing closer together every day. Looking forward to the future and their life together.
But now, she could barely keep her thoughts coherent, never mind make her movements coordinate to his.
“We’re going to blow everyone away,” Logan assured her. “We always win this thing, hands down.”
Well, apparently some things hadn’t changed over the years. Logan was still as competitive as ever, which only increased Molly’s stress level.
Wasn’t he experiencing any of the awkwardness that Molly was struggling with? Maybe he really had moved on.
Of course he had. He’d had a wife and family, and though Brianna had died, he still had Judah. A whole other life.
This was nothing like their previous races. It was a good reminder for Molly.
“Are you ready to toast these guys?” he asked, tightening his grip around her shoulders and leaning in to put a better balance between them.
As ready as I’ll ever be.
“Of course,” was what she managed to say aloud. “Let’s go for the gold, so to speak.”
An air horn sounded, and Logan and Molly surged forward, careful to coordinate their feet.
Step, together. Step, together.
Molly gritted her teeth and repeated the mantra, praying she could keep her mind and her steps together and in line.
Wondering how Logan was handling this uneasy closeness, she slanted a glance in his direction, hoping he wouldn’t notice she’d done so.
He noticed.
The corner of his jaw pulsed with strain as he glanced down at her, his blue eyes blazing with competitive zeal. Then he tossed a look behind them, ostensibly to gauge their progress in relation to the other racers.
So much for a fun, carefree activity—not that Molly had ever thought it would be. Logan was far too spirited for that. He always had been.
“We’ve got this,” he exclaimed, this time with a hint of exhilaration. “If we keep up this pace we can—”
He didn’t finish his sentence.
He couldn’t.
Because both of them went tumbling backward after being forcefully assaulted by ninety pounds of overenthusiastic six-month-old Great Dane puppy.
Apparently, Rufus had had enough of lollygagging under the tree with Logan’s parents and decided he needed to join the race—more specifically, to tackle Logan to the ground and cover his face with big, wet doggy kisses.
Logan saw Rufus launching himself at them a moment before Molly did. There was no time to react, to command Rufus to stop in his tracks or for them to get out of his way, especially because Logan and Molly were tied together at the ankle.
Logan wrapped both arms around Molly and twisted to the side just as Rufus’s front paws made contact with his shoulder.
They were on a definite downward trajectory, so he did the best he could to take the brunt of the fall and landed flat on his back with an audible grunt, his cowboy hat tumbling off in the process.
He didn’t immediately let Molly go—not until Rufus wiggled between them, seeking her attention as well as his.
Logan huffed and squirmed under the puppy’s ministrations, bringing his arm over his face to protect himself from the dog’s onslaught. The only problem was that Logan and Molly were still tightly bound at the ankle, and when he tried to roll away...
“Logan,” Molly screeched, grabbing his biceps in a death grip. Tears sprang to her eyes as her fingernails bit into his skin. “It hurts,” she said through clenched teeth. “I think I must have sprained my ankle.”
Logan immediately turned back to Molly, using a little more muscle to push Rufus off to the side so he could untie the rope that bound him to Molly.
She groaned and lay back, propped on one elbow and grasping her bad leg.
He gently unlaced her sneaker but was interrupted several times by the curious puppy’s wet nose.
“Rufus, sit,” Molly commanded in a firm, stable tone of voice that surprised Logan, given the painful grimace that accompanied her words.
As rambunctious as Rufus was acting, Logan didn’t think the dog would hear her, much less obey her command, but the moment the words left Molly’s lips, Rufus turned his full attention to her and plopped down to sit on his huge haunches.
“Good boy,” she praised him. “Rufus, down.”
The dog immediately flopped to the ground, his gaze waiting for Molly’s verbal approval.
Logan could get where the dog was coming from. A smile from Molly was worth any kind of effort.
“Rufus, sit,” Molly continued with her commands, one right after the other. “Rufus, down.”
After several back-to-back directives, Molly finally praised the puppy and left him stretched out on the ground.
The she tried to move and immediately squeezed her eyes closed from the effort.
Logan was no paramedic, but even he could see her ankle was already turning purple and becoming increasingly swollen by the moment.
This was all his fault. He hadn’t had a great deal of time to react, but he’d seen Rufus a moment before they’d collided. If he’d been more careful when they’d rolled to the ground, maybe she wouldn’t be hurt right now.
Molly groaned and tenderly touched her swollen ankle. “I think I’ve got a pretty good sprain going here.”
Logan frowned. “Did it feel as if it twisted as we were going down?”
“Yes. Most definitely.”
Logan’s parents hurriedly approached with Judah at their side. Her siblings also surrounded her, having seen the fall.
“Oh, wow,” said his mom. “That was quite a tumble the two of you took. I tried to grab Rufus’s lead when I realized he was going to bolt after you, but I was too late. His lead slipped right out of my hand. I’m so sorry.”
“No worries,” said Molly. “It’s not your fault. Rufus is a big brute sometimes.”
“Molly’s hurt,” Logan said, pressing his lips against the emotions rising in him. “Her ankle twisted when we fell. It’s already swelling and turning purple.”
“That’s not good,” said his dad.
“Ouch,” said Judah, leaning over to examine Molly’s wound, as completely enthralled with injuries as was typical of most boys his age.
“Yeah, and it’s all my fault,” Logan admitted.
Sharpe and Frost glowered down at him, clearly agreeing with his analysis of the situation.
“Let’s not sling blame,” his father suggested in his usual mild tone. He was probably right. What was important right now was getting Molly the help she needed. Her brothers could hold him accountable later.
“You should kiss it better,” Judah suggested. “That’s what you always do with me when I get hurt.”
Heat flooded Logan’s face.
“Oh, no, I don’t think Miss Molly would—”
But Molly’s tears of pain had turned into tears of laughter. “Yeah, Daddy. I’m sure if you kiss my boo-boo it will feel much better.”
Their gazes met and locked. What kind of game was she playing here? Was she trying to humiliate him? Put him in his place?
But no. There was absolutely no malice in her beautiful green eyes.
As usual, she wasn’t thinking of herself at all, although how that was possible with as bad an injury as she had was beyond him. She had to be in some serious pain right now. Yet as awkward as it was for both of them, this was all about Judah’s reaction, helping him feel comfortable in what might otherwise turn into something completely different. It didn’t take much for Judah to become anxious and panic-stricken.
Judah was an ultrasensitive little boy. If he realized his favorite teacher Miss Molly was in the amount of pain she was so graciously trying to mask for his sake, he might not respond well to it.
He’d already had enough overexposure for one day at the festival even without worrying about his teacher getting hurt.
Clearing his throat, Logan combed through his hair and then leaned down and brushed the tenderest of kisses over Molly’s swollen ankle.
His parents whistled and applauded, which only made the hot blush on his cheeks grow worse. Did they really have to make such a big deal about this?
“Is your owie better, Miss Molly?” Judah asked her, his wide-eyed gaze as serious as ever.
“It is,” Molly replied. “All better. I’m so glad you and your daddy were here to help me out. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Logan noticed she didn’t mention that she wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place if it wasn’t for him throwing her to the ground the way he had.
Before he knew what she was about to do, she attempted to rise, putting the majority of her weight on her uninjured side.
“Argh.” She swallowed her painful outburst so Judah wouldn’t hear her, but she immediately folded back to the ground.
Judah didn’t notice. But Logan did.
Stubborn woman.
Seriously.
Did she think she was just going to stand up, walk off the field on her own and pretend nothing had happened?
With a sprained ankle?
He met her gaze briefly and he realized that was exactly what she intended to do. Always putting others ahead of her own needs. Probably thinking of Judah and how it would look to him if she expressed that she was in pain and needed help to walk.
Well, getting up and walking on her own wasn’t going to happen. Not that she could even if she wanted to, and definitely not if he had anything to say about it.
He stood quickly and gently scooped her into his arms. Rufus, who hadn’t taken his doggy gaze off Molly since she’d given him his last command, got to his feet and inched forward, clearly concerned about his mistress’s condition—and who was holding her so oddly.
Her brothers closed in as well, until they saw the expression on his face. Then they backed off a little. But not too far.
“Put me down,” Molly protested in a whisper meant only for him.
“Not gonna happen,” he informed her briskly. “Now, stop wiggling and be a good patient. I’m taking you to urgent care. You need an X-ray on that ankle.”
“That’s really not necessary. I probably just need to wrap it with a bandage. Worst-case scenario, I can get Sharpe and Frost to take me to urgent care.”
“No sense interrupting your siblings’ fun,” Logan insisted. “Look, guys,” he said, addressing Molly’s brothers. “This festival only comes around once a year. I don’t want you to have to miss the fireworks. This is on me, and I’m not going to rest easy until I know for sure how Molly and her ankle are doing. I promise I’ll keep you updated by text.”
Molly sighed, clearly realizing the wisdom of Logan’s words but nonetheless frustrated by her inability to walk on her own. He was fairly certain she would rather be anywhere else in the world besides in his arms. But no sense involving her brothers.
“Boys, can you take Rufus back to the farm tonight?”
At the sound of his name, Rufus pricked up his ears and looked as if he might be considering a repeat of his earlier movements, but Frost grabbed his lead and commanded him to heel before more damage could be done.
“Okay, we’re off,” Logan said, heading toward the church parking lot where he’d parked his truck.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured into the fabric of his shirt.
He stopped and glanced down at her in surprise.
She was sorry?
“For what?” he asked, bemused.
“Oh, well, I don’t know. Take your pick. That you got slammed to the ground by my overenthusiastic puppy. That you have to miss the rest of the Independence Day Festival to take me to urgent care so I can get an X-ray on my stupid ankle. And most of all, that you lost the race because of me—well, me and Rufus.”
Every muscle in Logan’s body tensed all at once. Did she really believe he was that shallow, that winning or losing a race meant anything to him when her health was on the line?
But then again, it wasn’t as if he’d given her any reason to trust him. And he had to admit, that was how he used to be. All about the game.
“No worries.” Logan shrugged and Molly groaned in pain. Just that little bit of movement had her wincing. He was seriously concerned about her ankle. Maybe it was worse than they’d first thought. What if she’d broken the bone? As far as he was concerned, the faster he got her in to see a doctor, the better.
He reached his truck and gently settled her into the passenger side, then slid behind the wheel and put the truck into gear.
“Hang tight,” he said. “It won’t be long now, and I’ll get to the doctor to get you all fixed up. I promise.”
The look she flashed him stabbed him right in the heart.
I promise.
Two words he knew she would never, ever believe coming out of his mouth again.