Logan's Luck Read online

  Table of Contents

  Logan’s Luck

  Copyright

  Logan’s Luck: Last Chance Series, Book 4

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Read on for an excerpt of Cowboy’s Match (Poker Flat #2)

  Also by Lexi Post

  About Lexi Post

  Logan’s Luck

  Last Chance Series Book #4

  Lexi Post

  Logan’s Luck

  Last Chance Series Book #4

  Copyright © 2017 by Lexi Post

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  For information contact Lexi Post at www.lexipostbooks.com

  Cover design by Bella Media Management

  Formatting by Bella Media Management

  Cover photo: Cover Me Photography by Becky McGraw

  Cover model: Jose Ruiz

  Cover background photo: Robert A. Fabich Sr.

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-9985260-3-4

  Excerpt of Cowboys Match Copyright © 2015 by Lexi Post

  Logan’s Luck: Last Chance Series, Book 4

  By Lexi Post

  Logan Williams has plenty of luck. The problem is, it’s all bad.

  Logan Williams is not happy his cousin retained the services of Dr. Jenna for the Last Chance Ranch. She may be the local vet, but he’d hoped never to see her again. It had taken too long to forget her the first time.

  Jenna Atkins is not afraid of Logan’s bark because any man who looks at his baby daughter the way he does, must have a good heart buried somewhere in there. That doesn’t mean she plans to get any closer than they already were.

  But when baby Charlotte’s mother arrives and sets her sights on Logan, Jenna discovers a territorial side of herself she didn’t know she had. The question is, should she walk away and let Logan’s luck run its course or should she interfere? Knowing Logan, either way, she’s bound to get hurt.

  Acknowledgments

  For Bob Fabich, Sr., an amazing husband and a wonderful father. And for my sister Paige Wood, who is always there when I need her.

  A special thank you to Misty Dawn for giving me the name for Butterball.

  I have the most awesome readers! To that end, I want to thank readers Tracy Jacobs and Cary Comas for loving my books, and a shout out to reader Sioban Muir who is a great author in her own right!

  As usual, Marie Patrick, my awesome friend and critique partner kept me on the straight and narrow and supported me when life got in the way on this one.

  Lastly, thank you to Pamela Todd and KC Crocker for arranging their schedules so they could give this story a final look over. You two rock!

  Author’s Note

  Logan’s Luck was inspired by Bret Harte’s short story, “The Luck of Roaring Camp,” first published sometime between 1868 and 1872. In Harte’s story, a baby is born to a whore in a mining camp of all men. When the baby’s mother dies, the men designate one person to take care of the newborn.

  Though the baby is named Tommy, he is referred to as “The Luck.” The camp’s luck soon takes a turn for the better when Tommy is born, and that summer gold is found in high quantities. Unfortunately, at the end of winter as the snow melts in the high mountains of the Sierras, the camp’s luck turns bad. The North Fork leaps over its banks and floods the valley of Roaring Camp, taking some of the cabins and men with it. They find one of the men near death still holding The Luck in his arms. When the other men check the baby, they find it has passed and the man that holds him soon follows, saying “Tell the boys I’ve got The Luck with me now.”

  What would it be like for a baby to grow up among so many men? Would their rough ways be put in check? Would they band together to raise it and protect it? And what would happen if a woman wanted a say in the baby’s upbringing? Or worse yet, two women? Would the father welcome the feminine touch or would it depend on the woman?

  Chapter One

  “What the hell is she doing here?” Logan Williams looked up from where he knelt on the barn floor to scowl at the local vet.

  His brother stepped up next to her. “Dr. Jenna’s here to help.”

  He glared at Trace. “I don’t remember asking for any help.”

  “You never do. Maybe if you did, life would go a little smoother for you.” He grinned. “Now, no fighting while I’m gone.” Trace winked then turned on his heel and strode out of the barn whistling.

  Damn troublemaker. It was just his luck that when he moved to the Last Chance horse rescue ranch, his extended family had retained the services of Dr. Jenna Atkins, local vet and former one-night-stand. She was the only woman he’d fought the urge to call for a month before their night together was finally put to rest where it belonged. “Well, since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful. Go to the house and get me a couple bottled waters. This is going to be a while.”

  The five-foot four-inch woman in a white button down collared shirt and snug blue jeans crossed her arms over her bountiful chest. Her blue-green eyes sent need spiraling up his spine, despite the anger in them. “Let’s reverse that, shall we? Since I’m the medically trained vet,” she lifted her large leather bag of medicines and equipment, “I suggest you go get us some waters and I’ll take mama’s vitals. What’s her name?”

  He ground his teeth at her logic, trying to find a way around it. He couldn’t. “Her name is Macy.”

  Jenna opened the stall door and walked in crooning to the horse, who, damn her, nickered at the vet. Jenna stood right next to him and set her bag on the concrete floor. “You’re in my way.”

  Swallowing a completely inappropriate response, he rose to his feet, purposefully towering over her. “I’ll be right back.” His words came out like a threat, but he didn’t care. Brushing by her, he exited the stall and stalked out of the barn.

  Thoroughly pissed off, he swore if he ran in to Trace he would lay him out cold. Ignoring the final reds and purples in the darkening sky, he took the three steps to the porch and threw open the front door. The screen banged against the doorframe as he stalked down the hall to the kitchen.

  When he stepped into the room, he halted at his grandmother’s scowl. “Don’t you go slamming my doors. How old are you? Thirteen?”

  It wasn’t his grandmother’s scolding that calmed him so much as it was his sleeping fifteen-month old daughter in his grandmother’s arms. “She’s getting too big for that, Gram. Here, let me put her in our room.”

  She looked down at his daughter and her scowl faded. Charlotte had that effect on everyone who helped out at the ranch. Despite how rambunctious she was while awake, everyone doted on her.

  When she slept, you’d think she was the Queen of Sheba the way they all tiptoed around the ranch house. The thing was, Charlotte was as likely to sleep at mid-afternoon as at night, her schedule like that of a puppy, which unfortunately, gave him little sleep. Luckily, the night sleeping had improved.

  “She’ll never be too big for my arms.” His grandmother practically crooned her words.

  “Come on, Gram. I bet your left arm is completely
numb now. Let me take her up.”

  His grandmother nodded, and he lifted his daughter into his arms. As he turned away to head upstairs, he caught his grandmother in his peripheral vision, shaking out her arm.

  He didn’t say anything as he turned the corner and climbed the stairs. Everyone in the house, which luckily was just his grandparents and himself now, doted on his daughter.

  When he’d first arrived, a new single dad without a home, the place was bursting at the seams with Cole and old Billy, not to mention Cole’s now wife Lacey. Since his cousin, Cole, jointly owned the horse rescue ranch with their grandparents, Logan really couldn’t say anything. Then his brother Trace had shown up during his divorce and getting sleep had been more a wish than a reality.

  At the top of the stairs, he turned left and brought Charlotte into his room with the two twin beds. Next to one of them was Charlotte’s crib. There was an empty room across the hall, now that everyone had moved out, but he wasn’t quite ready to have his daughter that far away from him. The small bedroom at the end of the hall his grandfather was renovating, so it was unusable.

  Gently, he laid Charlotte down, her little hand still holding her teddy with the cowboy hat. His grandmother had insisted that she have a horse as soon as she could crawl, even if it was a stuffed one, but that animal remained in the crib all day while the teddy went everywhere.

  He gazed down at his daughter, still amazed that she was really his. Despite all his precautions, all his maneuverers to avoid any kind of entanglement with a woman beyond a quick night of sex, something had failed. At first, he thought it was just more of his perpetual bad luck, but having Charlotte in his life had changed everything…except his luck.

  He brushed her thick brown hair, kept short after she started chewing on it. He’d had to cut his own hair short after she pulled it one too many times, leaving sticky syrup in it that would have taken days to wash out.

  He still didn’t know anything about being a dad. All he had to go on was what he remembered with his own father, who he admired most of his life…until the end just before he passed. That’s when his bad luck had really started.

  Thanks to his grandparents though, he was learning a lot more about being a parent and especially about being a parent of a little girl. Hopefully, she’d have better luck and be more successful than he ever was.

  Turning away, he gazed at her from the doorway then turned off the light. A little pony nightlight illuminated the floor so he could find his way to his bed once it was dark. He chuckled silently as he descended the stairs. He would have been mortified if his mother had put a nightlight of any kind in his bedroom when he was a boy. He’d been tough, but Charlotte was soft and sweet.

  Entering the kitchen, he found his grandmother had moved to another room, so he opened the fridge, grabbed four bottled waters and headed back outside. He wasn’t about to tell Jenna, but he was worried about Macy.

  When he approached the stall, he heard Macy whine. Damn, he was right, it wasn’t going well. He set the water bottles on a beam and leaned over the stall door, in no hurry to get into such a confined space with Jenna. “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t look at him. “The foal’s legs are both coming out at the same time. That won’t work. We need to get her up and walking or you could lose both of them.”

  “Fuck.” He pulled open the stall door, his aversion to Jenna forgotten in his concern for Macy.

  “Help me get her up.”

  “Up? She’s trying to give birth.” He looked at the small legs sticking out the vulva. “If we get her up, the foal might fall back in.”

  Jenna finally gave him her undivided attention. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  “What?”

  “Listen, if we don’t get her up and walking around, you’re going to have one dead foal and one sick mama. Darn it, I wish I had Whisper here. At least she’d help instead of question everything I say.”

  He’d been about to argue, but at her last comment he shut his mouth and moved toward the horse. His brother’s girlfriend, Whisper, was amazing with animals, but she was a bit odd. That Jenna would prefer her over himself irritated him, motivating him to show he could help.

  With a few coaxing words and a push in the right direction, they got Macy up on her feet again. As he expected, the foal’s feet disappeared into Macy.

  “Now we need to walk her.” Jenna issued orders like she was born to it, which rankled. He was the one who had run a ranch before. Yeah, and what a mess that was.

  Swallowing his pride, he grabbed a halter. He hoped she knew what she was doing. He’d only had one mare in his lifetime have a difficult birth and they had lost the baby. At the time, it was all they could do to save the mother. Now, he couldn’t imagine losing the foal. Must have something to do with being a parent himself.

  Jenna walked Macy down to the opening of the barn and back a few times, then she handed him the leads. “Hold those for a moment.”

  He did as instructed, determined not to say a word. If he did, it wouldn’t be helpful, of that he was sure. His gut felt like a bull dozer ran through it.

  Jenna moved her hands over Macy’s enlarged abdomen then she looked up at him. “Lead her into the stall. I think the foal has moved and Macy is not going to wait much longer. I just hope it has moved enough.”

  He led Macy inside to the fresh hay he’d put down when he’d noticed her condition. Quickly, he removed the halter. “Okay, Macy. It’s up to you now, girl. Don’t let me down.”

  Macy stood still as they backed away, then slowly lowered herself to the floor of the stall again and rolled on to her side. She started to breathe heavy and then the contractions began.

  “Here we go. Cross your fingers, pray, or just hope that the foal exits correctly this time, or I will have to perform a cesarean in not so sterile conditions.”

  “Can’t you do something to increase the odds in her favor?” She was a vet after all. “Like drugs or something?”

  She frowned at him but turned her attention back to Macy when the horse whined. She spoke quietly. “Do me a favor and stay out of the way.”

  He ground his teeth to hold in his response. For Macy’s sake, he’d step back, but after this, the woman would be getting an earful of opinion from him whether she wanted it or not.

  The first hoof appeared enveloped in the white birthing sac. That was a good sign. Another couple heaves on Macy’s part and another foot appeared slightly behind the first. Yes! Come on, Macy! The next part was critical. Come on girl. Let’s see the head.

  Logan gripped the top of the stall door, his heart beating as if he’d just galloped across the valley and back. He must be getting too old for this because he’d never been this tense with a birth when growing up on his family’s ranch.

  The mare chuffed and whined as two more contractions hit her. They were very rhythmic so that was good, but he glanced at Jenna and the concern on her face made him want to yell.

  Another two heaves of the mare’s sides and more of the white sac slid out onto the new hay. He stepped forward only to find his way blocked by a stiff arm.

  “Stay out of my way.” Jenna moved past him and with practiced precision, slit the white sac to reveal the foal’s head. She delicately cleared the animal’s orifices before she stepped away again. At the smile on her face, his entire insides relaxed.

  Macy gave another whine and the foal spilled out, except for its hind feet. Jenna glanced over at him and nodded, her lips still curved in the joy of a new birth.

  At that moment, in the dimly lit barn, she looked like an angel. Her thick brown hair pulled back away from her face, emphasized the flush of her cheeks and the soft curve of her neck. In her happiness, her blue-green eyes almost sparkled.

  It took everything he had inside him to stay where he was and not pull her into his arms and kiss her. She made it worse by walking over to him, keeping herself far from Macy and the new foal, who was not yet completely out of its mom’s body but would be soo
n.

  “She should be fine, but I’ll check them both in about twenty minutes.” She kept her voice low, like she had when they were in bed. “It’d be best if we left them alone right now.”

  He stared at her. He should open the stall door for her, but if he moved his arm, it would wrap around her of its own accord. He couldn’t allow that, but he wanted it so much he couldn’t think straight. “Jenna.”

  His voice was husky with his own need.

  Her brows knit together in puzzlement. “What? Do you have something you want to say?”

  Yes! I want to tell you I want you so much I’d take you right here in the next stall. Instead, he swallowed hard against his own weakness. “I can take it from here.”

  She frowned as she pulled the stall door open just far enough to slip out before holding it for him. “We can discuss that once you get out of there.”

  There was nothing to discuss. He’d lived on a ranch his whole life. He could take care of a new born foal, dammit. Yeah, but you also lost the ranch, so what does that say about your expertise, smart ass? He stalked through the opening then spun around to confront her.

  She quietly latched the stall door. Without turning to look at him, she strode toward the barn exit.

  Oh no, she wasn’t getting away that easy. He caught up to her just before she reached the open barn doors and grabbed her arm. “There is nothing to discuss. I’ll take care of the foal and Macy.”

  At her surprised look, he lowered his tone. “I didn’t call you.”

  She pulled her arm away. “No, you didn’t. You’re not very good at that, are you? Returning calls isn’t one of your talents, is it?”

  It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out she was talking about the days after their night together when she called him and he didn’t return her calls. When he lived near Catalina, he thought someone like her from out of town would be easier to keep away. Joke was on him. He cracked two of his knuckles against his thigh. “Listen, it’s just that—”