Free The Rancher's Wife by April Arrington Page B

remember. Had continued to push for more until he was so desperate not to lose her altogether that he gave in whenever she wanted.
    Logan squeezed his eyes shut. He should’ve been more responsible back then. Wiser. Shouldn’t have blindly accepted her word that she’d been protected. That she’d taken care of things.
    He learned later she deliberately hadn’t. And, as a result, they’d made a daughter then lost her. He’d almost lost Amy, too. All because of her selfish obsession.
    â€œBut you didn’t leave it at that,” he gritted, facing her. “You had to have your way.”
    â€œI never meant to hurt you.” Her face flushed. “Not then and not now. As hard as it is to believe, that’s God’s honest truth.”
    â€œWe both have regrets, Amy.” He sighed and shook his head. “You were so young. You think that sits well with me? That I didn’t step up? Put a stop to things?”
    She smiled. It was small. A joyless tilt. “I knew what I was doing, Logan. Even at nineteen. And even if you were my first.”
    â€œI was never interested in being your first.”
    â€œI know. You wanted to stay friends. Wanted me to grow up. Live and learn.” She released the rail, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Well, I have. I’m not that girl anymore. I’ve learned and I won’t ever be like her again.”
    He clenched his eyes shut. She was right. He’d wanted to wait. Had spent so much time waiting. Waiting for her to mature. Waiting to see if her adoration grew into something real. Something he could trust. Her friendship had been too important for him to risk it.
    â€œI really and truly thought back then that all you needed was a little push,” she said. “That if I could show you how I felt, you’d understand and feel the same. That you’d want the same things and I could make you happy.” A humorless laugh burst from her. “It was such a stupid teenage thing to do. So ridiculous. And you called me on it. Do you remember what you said to me?” she asked. “When I told you I was glad I’d gotten pregnant? That it’d been my intention?”
    His stomach roiled, a roaring sounding in his ears.
    â€œYou told me I was selfish. That I had a selfish obsession.”
    â€œI was angry.” Dragging his tongue from the dry roof of his mouth, he said, “I should’ve been less blunt. You were so young—”
    â€œBut it was the truth, wasn’t it?” She kneaded her nape with both hands. “I was selfish and obsessed. I never had a clue how to be a real friend.” She shook her head. “But that was the best lesson I ever learned. I’ve learned how to be a good friend, Logan. I have. And I finally did the right thing and filed. You don’t have to pay for my mistake anymore.”
    A mistake . Their daughter a mistake. Their marriagea mista—
    â€œMarrying you was not a mistake,” he rasped. “I chose to make you promises and I intend to keep them.”
    â€œThat’s my Logan,” she whispered. Her fingertips rose, bumping gently across the creases on his forehead and following the hard line of his jaw. “Always doing the right thing. The honest, honorable thing. That’s how you got into this mess to begin with.” She leaned in, her breasts brushing his chest. “We both have a chance to get out of this. To get our lives back. All you have to do is sign.”
    He caught her wrists and pressed a kiss to her palms. “I vowed to take care of you and love you every day of my life. I don’t break my promises.”
    She stilled, her expression lifting. “And do you? Love me?”
    He eased his hold on her when the dig of fragile bone hit his flesh. “You were the best friend I’d ever had. I’ve always cared for you.”
    â€œThat’s not what I’m asking.” She stepped