UNBROKEN PROMISE

~74~ New Year's

The fire in the hearth had died down to a faint glow. Logan stirred slowly, blinking the sleep from his eyes as his senses returned to him one by one, the warmth of the room, the quiet  crackle of embers, and most of all, the steady weight curled up against him.

Oma.

She was still asleep, her face tucked near his chest, one hand resting lightly against his ribs. Her breathing was slow and even, the softest sound in the silence of the morning.

Logan didn’t move for a long moment. He just lay there, his arms wrapped around her, his chin resting atop her cornrowed hair, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath against him.

She looked peaceful now. So different from the pale, trembling girl he’d carried out of the snow. There was color in her cheeks again, and her brow was smooth, untroubled by dreams. A small smile tugged at his lips...subtle, but real.

He reached up with one calloused hand and traced his thumb lightly along her jaw, then her cheek. Her skin was warm now, soft under his touch, and it made something in his chest ache in the gentlest way.

“Lord,” he whispered under his breath, pressing a quiet kiss to her forehead. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

He closed his eyes, letting himself breathe her in. He didn’t want to think about anything else,not the chores, not the cold outside. For now, he just wanted to hold her. Just wanted this.

A few minutes later, Oma stirred.

She let out a soft yawn, her body stretching beneath the covers. Her hand reached out instinctively and bumped into something solid—Logan’s chest.

Her eyes flew open, breath catching slightly as the memory of where she was, of everything that had happened, came rushing back.

Logan chuckled, low and warm. “Mornin’.”

Oma blinked, eyes wide for a beat before she dropped her gaze, heat rising in her cheeks. She ducked her head shyly, pressing her face against the pillow. “Morning,” she mumbled.

He smiled down at her, his voice still rough from sleep, but there was something lighter in it than usual something almost playful. “You always wake up swingin’?” he drawled.

Oma peeked up at him from beneath her lashes, and her heart did a strange flip when she saw the look on his face. He was smirking. Not a cruel or mocking smirk, but something warm. Pleased.

He leaned in and kissed the top of her head again. “How’d you sleep?”

She nodded slowly, her voice still soft. “Better,” she said. “A lot better.”

Logan didn’t say anything at first. He just studied her for a long moment, searching. She fidgeted slightly beneath his gaze.

Then he gave a low hum, like her answer satisfied something deep inside him. “You feelin’ stronger today?”

She nodded again. “Yes.”

He didn’t press for more. He just let his hand rest gently on her hip, giving it a soft tap. “Alright then, up and at it,” he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “Go on and get washed up. Gotta get ready for church.”

Oma blinked. “Church?”

Logan pulled the blanket off his legs and stretched. “Mmhm. First day of the year.”

She sat up slowly, brushing her hands over the quilt. “Is it Sunday already?”

He gave her a crooked smile and leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek. “Nope. It’s New Year’s Day.”