UNBROKEN PROMISE

~46~ Trust and love

Logan stood there in the quiet of the barn, his arms wrapped around Oma as she cried against his chest. Her soft sobs tugged at something deep inside him. He hadn't thought much when he'd pulled her into the hug, it was instinct, born from the fear and worry that had gripped him all evening. Now, as she clung to him, he felt the weight of his own emotions pressing heavily on his chest.

"Shhhhh," he murmured, his hand moving in slow circles on her back. "Everything's gonna be alright."

Oma's sobs eventually quieted, though her body still trembled slightly. Logan tightened his hold briefly before finally pulling back. He reached into his pocket, fishing out a handkerchief, and handed it to her. She took it hesitantly, her fingers brushing his as she wiped her tear-streaked face.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low, but there was a gentleness to it that surprised even him.

She nodded, her cheeks still flushed from crying. "Yes," she whispered.

Logan cleared his throat, shifting slightly on his feet. "Mama Becca saved you a plate. We'd best head back so she doesn't have to wait up any longer."

Oma nodded again, biting her lip as she took a hesitant step forward, her hand instinctively moving to rub at her sore bottom. Logan noticed the gesture, and guilt flickered across his face, but he quickly masked it. He fell in step behind her, giving her space but keeping a protective watch as they made their way back to the main house.

The walk was quiet, thr cool night air brushing their skin, non of them said anything, Logan replayed the events of the evening in his mind, the fear he'd felt when he couldn't find her, the relief when she finally appeared, and the heavy responsibility he carried now as her husband.

Oma, on the other hand, was trying to process everything. Logan's hug had caught her off guard, but it had also comforted her in a way she hadn't expected. Despite the soreness she felt, there was a strange sense of relief knowing he cared more than he let on.

When they reached the house, the windows glowed softly with the warm light from inside. Logan opened the door for her, letting her step in first. The house was quiet, the rest of the family having already gone to bed, except for Mama Becca, who was seated near the hearth, knitting.

"There you two are," Mama Becca said softly. She set down her knitting and stood, moving toward them. "I warmed up your plate, Oma. Figured you'd be hungry."

Oma offered a small, grateful smile as she sat down at the table. She winced slightly as she lowered herself onto the cushioned seat Mama Becca had thoughtfully prepared. "Thank you, ma'am," she said quietly, her voice still a bit hoarse from crying.

Logan settled into a chair nearby, leaning back slightly as he watched Oma eat. He didn't say anything, but his presence felt steady, grounding. Mama Becca, meanwhile, busied herself clearing away a few stray dishes and checking the fire in the hearth.

As Oma finished her meal, Mama Becca returned to the table. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Oma's face before placing a gentle kiss on her head. "You had us worried, darlin'," she said softly. "Logan especially. You've got to let someone know where you're headed next time, alright?"

Oma nodded, her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Mama Becca," she murmured.

"I know, sweetpea," Mama Becca replied with a small smile. "Just don't go scarin' us like that again."

Logan stood then, his chair scraping lightly against the floor. He glanced at Oma, jerking his head slightly toward the door. "Come on," he said gruffly. "Let's get you home."

Oma rose from her seat, thanking Mama Becca once more as she followed Logan out. As they stepped onto the porch, the cool night air greeted them again, but this time it felt heavier somehow.