UNBROKEN PROMISE

~85~ Earned It

By the time they made it back to the house, both of them were soaked through. Logan carried a cold and trembling Oma in his arms. The rain still tapped steadily on the roof as he pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside.

He shut the door behind them and set her gently on her feet. Her wet skirts clung to her legs, and her hair stuck to her cheeks. She stood there, her head bowed, hair dripping wet, water pooling at her feet.

Oma sniffled, already trying to wipe at her face with the sleeve of her soaked dress, but the tears just kept coming. She didn’t dare look up at him, didn’t want to see the storm brewing in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

But before she could say more, Logan held up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t say a word.”

Oma blinked at him, staying quiet.

“This is the second time,” he said, voice low but hard with frustration. “Second time you’ve done somethin’ reckless. First time I let it go. You remember that? I didn’t say much, because I knew I’d failed you—I hadn’t been there the way I should’ve. I owned that. I still do.”

He raked a wet hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “But this? This right here? This wasn’t about me. This was just plain foolishness, Oma. You could’ve died.”

Her tears ran faster now, dripping off her chin, and she couldn’t help the way her shoulders shook.

Logan took a breath, trying to keep himself calm. His hand pressed to his temple. “What on God’s green earth possessed ya to go out there, huh? Rain was comin’ down fast.”

“I didn’t go in deep,” she said softly. “I was just sitting... I didn’t mean to—I lost my footing.”

“That ain’t an excuse,” he snapped, sharper than he meant to. He took another breath and lowered his voice again. “You lost your footing, and if I’d come a second later, you’d be gone. You understand that?”

Oma’s eyes brimmed, but she said nothing.

Her silence snapped something in him clean in two. He straightened, broad shoulders squared, voice rising in a low, harsh growl that filled the room.

“Do you understand that, CAROMA FLAVIA TAWNEY?”

Her head jerked up, eyes wide, her breath hitching as she jolted at his tone, she knew she had really pushed him to the wall. Her hands trembled, and she nodded quick, voice breaking on the words, “Yes, sir.”

He exhaled heavily and shook his head, stepping back a little to give himself space. “Go dry off. Get out of those wet clothes,” he said, his voice more tired now than angry. “Then I want you to go stand in the corner. You hear me?”

Her eyes flickered up to his, and she nodded slowly.

“I need to simmer down,” he said, his voice low. “Need to think straight. Because right now, I’m too upset to say anything that won’t come out harsh. And I don’t wanna speak to ya like that. But ya need to understand, Oma… this ain't just about rules or pride. It’s about me not wantin’ to lose you.”

He turned from her and walked toward the fireplace, where he began to stoke the flames with a bit more force than necessary. She lingered a bit, then quietly made her way to the bedroom.

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Oma stood in the corner, trembling slightly. She had changed out of her wet clothes into her nightgown, her forehead rested against the cool wooden wall. She’d been there a while now, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes red-rimmed. The sound of the rain outside had begun to fade, but her heart pounded just as loud in her chest. Every second dragged. She could still hear Logan’s voice echoing in her memory—the sharp edge of fear under his anger when he scolded her. And now, the sound of boots against the floorboards told her he was back.