UNBROKEN PROMISE

~82~ Bulls in a Pen

Logan stirred on the cramped sofa with a groan, his back aching from the odd angle he'd managed to sleep in. The cushion had been too short for his long legs, one arm had gone numb from being pinned awkwardly beneath him, and the armrest had jabbed at his ribs half the night.

He sat up with a grunt, running a hand down his face. His eyes flicked to the stairs. Hope she had a better night.

He could already hear the creak of floorboards. Oma was awake.

He pushed himself up with a sigh and made his way toward the bedroom. The door was half open, and when he peeked inside, he found her in front of the mirror, fastening the final buttons of her Sunday dress. Her hair was neatly braided back into her usual cornrows, her profile calm and graceful in the morning light.

He knocked gently on the doorframe. "Mornin'," he said, voice rough.

Oma turned. Assessing him with her eyes, and though she didn't smile, she didn't look angry either. That was a start.

He stepped closer and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "That dress looks real pretty on ya,"

Oma's expression softened slightly, and she gave a small nod. "Your clothes are laid out on the chair," she said, not looking at him.

Logan followed her gaze to the neatly folded shirt and trousers resting on the back of the chair. His boots were placed just beneath it, polished.

"Thanks," he said, sounding low with something like guilt. He didn't try to say more. Knowing she needed time.

She pointed toward the hallway. "Go wash up. We don't wanna be late."

He nodded and made his way down to the washroom. By the time he was ready Oma was downstairs waiting for him.

Logan went out to hitch up the wagon. He led the wagon around the front, and as he pulled the horses to a stop, Caleb came down the path running. Cookie bounded beside him, tail wagging wildly.

"Wait! I wanna ride with y'all!" Caleb shouted, his voice bright.

Logan chuckled as Caleb reached them. "Hop on, then," he said, giving him a hand up. "But Cookie's staying. We're going to church, not a picnic."

Caleb nodded, still catching his breath, and looked down at the dog, who gave a small whine and sat obediently on the porch.

Logan helped Oma into the wagon next before getting in himself.

As they rode, the creak of another wagon caught their ears. Jacob was just pulling ahead with his own rig, Megan seated beside him with the baby bundled in her arms. The little girl was swaddled in a pale yellow blanket, her tiny hat bobbing gently as the wagon moved, mama Becca seated at the back.

Caleb called ahead and waved when mama Becca turned back making Oma smile a bit.

------

After the closing hymn drifted into silence and the final blessing was given, the small congregation spilled out of the chapel.

Oma stepped out, her hand tucked lightly into the crook of Logan's elbow. Logan had kept his hand resting on her back during the service, his thumb making absent minded, slow circles against the fabric of her dress.

Outside, people formed their usual after-church clusters. Logan stood with Jacob and two other ranchers, arms crossed, his hat pulled low against the sun, saying little, but listening.

Oma was standing with Mama Becca near the steps, when her eyes caught movement by the fence. Mathew. He was standing off a little to the side, oadjusting the buttons on his coat, his expression unreadable.

She glanced at Mama Becca, then took a small breath and made her way toward him.

"Afternoon, Mr. Mathew," she said softly.

He looked up, startled, then quickly gave her a nod. "Miss Om...uh...Mrs Tawney," he corrected, clearly still fumbling around what to call her now. "It's good to see you up and about."

She smiled gently. "Thank you. And I hope you've been well."

He nodded, then fidgeted with his gloves. "I...I've been keepin' out of trouble."

"I saw you the other day," Oma said quietly, "you were avoiding Logan."

Matthew scratched the back of his neck and gave a lopsided smile. "Heh... yeah, I reckon you did. Weren't tryin' to be rude or nothin'. Just figgered it best I keep my distance."

He gave a small shrug. "I'm real sorry if I come off like I was flirtin'. Weren't meanin' it that way, I swear. Just... well, I ain't too keen on givin' yur husband another reason to bust my jaw."

As he spoke, his eyes drifted past her. Oma turned and caught sight of Logan, standing stiff as a post, jaw tight and eyes sharp on them.

She turned back, smoothing her expression. "Very well," she said, clearing her throat. "I apologize on his behalf."

Matthew shook his head gently. "Ain't no need, ma'am. I get it. He's just doin' what he thinks is right."

He tipped his hat with a soft nod. "Y'all take care now."

Megan appeared beside her "What was that all about?" she murmured, her eyes not missing a beat.

Oma blinked. "I just said hi."

"To Mathew?" Megan arched a brow. "Well, now. That explains it."

Oma sighed, fiddling with the ribbon at her waist. "He's still sore about the whole thing."

"No, sweetie," Megan said with a teasing smile. "Your husband is sore. Mathew just looks like he'd rather vanish."

"I didn't mean anything by it," Oma said quietly.

"I know that," Megan replied. "But men? They're like bulls in a pen. Proud and territorial. Logan's still learning how to handle all that... feeling. And he's in love with you, which makes it worse. Don't poke too hard.

Before Oma could respond, Logan and Jacob approached.

Jacob leaned down to kiss Megan's cheek and then their baby, nestled in a soft wool blanket in her arms. "Ready to head home?"

"Soon," Megan said, smiling up at him.

"Caleb!" Jacob called toward the side yard where a group of children played tag.

Caleb turned, grinning, and came running at full speed.

Mama Becca parted from a circle of older ladies, catching Oma's eye with a smile as she approached the group.

"All ready?" she asked.

Oma gave a nod. "Just about."

The group began to disperse, loading into their respective wagons. Logan helped Oma up into theirs, setting the reins in place before climbing in beside her. The warmth of his hand on her back was gone now, replaced by a tight silence.

They didn't speak until they were halfway down the road.

Then Logan exhaled through his nose, slow and steady.

"Don't think I didn't see what you did back there," he said, his tone low.

Oma blinked. "What did I do?"

"You know what you did," he said, eyes on the road.

She turned slightly toward him. "Logan, I was just being polite."

He nodded once. "We'll talk about it later."

Oma opened her mouth to say more but closed it just as quickly. She sat quietly, fingers folded in her lap.

He didn't say another word but Logan's hand reached across the bench after a while, fingers curling lightly around hers.

He was still brooding.

But he wasn't letting go.