UNBROKEN PROMISE

~62~ Men don't cry

Logan stood at the edge of the barn, arms crossed, watching the festival unfold before him. The music played lively, the laughter of friends and family mingling with the warm night air. His fingers tapped absently against his forearm as he watched the dancers move in time with the fiddle and banjo, their boots scraping against the wooden floor of the barn.

He was working up the nerve to ask Oma for a dance. It shouldn't be so damn hard, he told himself. He was her husband, wasn't he? He had every right to take her hand, lead her onto that dance floor, and hold her close, even if it was just for one song.

And yet, the thought made his throat tight.

Logan had never been good with words, never been the type of man to shower someone with sweet talk or flirtatious smiles. But with Oma, it felt different. He wanted to tell her she looked beautiful tonight in that blue dress, the way it hugged her curves just enough to make his chest feel tight.

He wanted to say that he liked how she'd filled out some since first arriving at the ranch, no longer so thin and weary. She looked strong, settled. Like she belonged.

He wanted to tell her he was glad she was here.

And maybe, if he was real brave, he'd tell her how much he hated hearing Matthew tease her all week, how much it got under his skin to see another man make her laugh so easily when he himself struggled to get more than a handful of words from her at a time.

Logan exhaled sharply, shaking his head at himself. Enough standing around like a fool.

He pushed off the wooden beam and made his way toward where Oma stood, determination in his stride. He was gonna ask her to dance, and that was that.

But just as he got close, another voice cut through the air.

"Well now, what a shame."

Logan stopped dead in his tracks, his fists clenching at his sides as Matthew waltzed up to Oma, a wide grin stretched across his face.

"A pretty lady like you just standin' here all alone?" Matthew tsked playfully, shaking his head as he set his hands on his hips.

"That don't seem right at all, Miss Oma. Well, I sure would be honored if ya let me have this dance." he said stretching out his hand for her to take

Oma blinked, caught off guard, and Logan saw the way she hesitated, glancing toward Megan, who had just returned from dancing with Jacob and Caleb. Megan, gave a slight nod, as if to say go on then.

And just like that, Logan's chest burned as he watched Oma place her hand in Matthew's.

"I'm sure honoured then," Matthew said, his grin never faltering as he led her toward the dance floor.

Logan could barely hear the music anymore. His blood pounded too loud in his ears.

He stood frozen for all of three seconds before his feet moved of their own accord right out of the barn.

The cool night air hit his face, but it did little to cool his temper. His boots thudded against the dirt as he stormed away from the festival, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Damn it.

Damn him.

Damn her.

Logan had never been one to let jealousy get the best of him, but seeing another man twirl his wife around, make her laugh, make her smile-that was a different kind of torture altogether.

He didn't stop walking until he reached the corral, leaning heavily against the wooden fence as he tried to gather his thoughts. His breathing was uneven, his heart hammering too fast for his liking.