A Second Chance at Crimson Ranch Read Free

of town as soon as Josh and Sara returned from Hawaii.
    Without letting go of Olivia’s hand, he grabbed two beers from the bartender and made a path toward the hallway that led to the stairs by the main restaurant. He wanted to head outside, but he knew it was too cold for her in that thin dress. It was late March and at the nine-thousand-foot altitude where Crimson sat nestled in a valley high in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, the temperature at night was still below freezing.
    Instead, he took her to the back of the restaurant, which was empty so late on a Saturday night. He pulled out a chair and she sank down, cradling her head in her hands as her shoulders shook.
    â€œGo away,” she mumbled between her fingers.
    Logan opened the beer bottles and sat one on the table in front of her. “Drink this.”
    He took a long pull on his, then ran a hand through his hair.
    â€œI prefer white wine,” she told him, her voice still shaky.
    â€œI’m fresh out,” he answered and she raised her head to glare at him, wiping the tips of her long fingers across her cheeks. Good. Anger he could deal with a lot easier than sorrow.
    â€œYou don’t want them to see you hurting. They’ll take too much interest in it. That’s how small towns work.” He took several paces across the empty dining room, wondering why this woman’s sadness bothered him so much. Wondering if his advice was more for her or himself.
    â€œEveryone in Crimson has been great to me since I arrived.” She took a sip of the beer, made a face and then swallowed another bigger drink. “Besides, I
am
hurting. My husband was mayor of Crimson. I had a very public image in this town. We had the perfect life. Now I look like a fool.”
    â€œI’m not going to argue about your version of the
perfect life
. The fact that he cheated, then left you is his problem, not yours.”
    â€œIt’s mine when he left with all of my money and hadn’t paid our mortgage in months. He left me with nothing.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “You don’t want to hear about my problems.”
    â€œDon’t be too sure. Who was this pillar of the community?”
    She picked at one corner of the bottle’s label. “Craig Wilder. He comes from a prominent family in Crimson.”
    Logan felt his jaw clench. “I know who the Wilders are.”
    â€œWere you friends with Craig growing up?”
    He almost laughed at that one. “He went to school with my oldest brother.”
    Her gaze became speculative. “How old are you, Logan?”
    â€œTwenty-six.”
    â€œA baby,” she whispered.
    â€œHardly,” he countered. “So what’s your plan now?”
    She took another drink of beer. “I don’t have one. I was working on renovating the community center downtown, but it was in a volunteer capacity. I think Craig mainly gave me the job to keep me busy and unaware of his extracurricular activities. I’m not sure what happens now. The contractor heading up the remodeling was the husband of Craig’s mistress. Needless to say, I don’t think he’s too excited about a project that helps the town.”
    â€œBut what happens with you?”
    â€œMy mom still lives in Saint Louis, where I grew up. I’m going to stay with her and regroup.”
    â€œWhat about the community center?”
    She sat the beer bottle on the table and wrapped her arms around her waist. “It would have been good for Crimson. I had so many plans: art classes, events, reviving the theater, workshops for seniors. We were going to bring together people of all generations and walks of life in Crimson. The center would have highlighted local artists and brought guest teachers to the area. It had so much potential.”
    For the first time, Logan saw something more than disappointment in her gaze. When she talked about the community center, it was with passion and