"Logan Taggert!" She pushed herself up so that she could lean over and kiss him, ever so gently, on the mouth. He pulled her up against him and used a knee to spread her legs over him.

"Honey, there's only one part of me that doesn't hurt right now." He ground her hips over his erection, which had begun to rise ever since he knew he was alone with her.

"You can't want that now! You're injured. You need rest."

"It is exactly what I want. Right now." She pulled him free of his breechclout and lowered herself over him. He let out a long, low groan. "Yes." She was slick and tight. Magnificent. "I fought for you. I killed your devils, Sarah. I won you. I'm keeping you. G.o.d, I love you."

He slipped a hand up her thigh, moving his thumb to her mound, lower to the sensitive spot above her entrance. He worked his thumb in a slow, circular motion. Heat filled Sarah, radiating from her hips outward. She took most of her weight on her knees, careful to jostle Logan as little as possible. She reached back and fingered his sac, gently ma.s.saging as she pulled herself up and slipped back down the hard length of him.

Logan cursed. "Sarah! Sarah, now! Please. Now!" He slammed his hips up, seating himself to the b.a.l.l.s. He felt her inner muscles contract, grabbing and releasing. He thrust against those spasms, pounded into her. The o.r.g.a.s.m ripping through her took him along with it. She braced her weight on her knees until the last little aftershocks rippled through them. He pulled her down for his kiss, hooking a hand around the back of her neck. "Don't ever leave me."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled against his mouth. "I never could, Logan. I don't know where I end and you begin. You're my everything." She pulled free of his hold, disengaging their bodies. Logan sucked in a breath at the loss of her body.

"And that, Mr. Taggert, is the last loving you're going to get until you're better."

"The h.e.l.l it is."

"I'm going to give you a sponge bath, then I'll see what food there might be in the kitchen." She untied his moccasins and pulled them off, then set to work on the strap holding his leggings and breechclout up.

"I don't need a sponge bath. My legs aren't broken. There's a perfectly good tub in the other room." He stood up, wincing at the pain from his sore rib. She slipped the leathers off his hips and down his legs so that he could step out of them. When she straightened, he cupped her cheeks. His eyes were still closed, but he felt the rigid tightening of her jaw. He was hard again and he knew she'd seen him. He grinned at her. "Maybe you should take a bath with me."

"No. Sit here for a minute while I draw the water." She helped him to the edge of the bed.

"You're a bossy little thing."

"Yes I am, Mr. Taggert."

Sarah stood at the kitchen doorway. Logan's family was seated around the table. She felt like such an outsider. If Logan didn't need bandages and something to eat, she would have turned and run. Sager saw her first. He stood up and motioned her forward. "Come in, Sarah."

Sid and Declan stood as she settled herself. Rachel patted a seat next to her. "How is he?" she asked.

"Sleeping now, but getting grumpier by the minute." Sarah looked at Logan's father. "Mr. Taggert, has a doctor been summoned?"

"Yep, as soon as you got here. And I'm *Sid' or *Dad,' Saraha"anything but *Mr. Taggert.'"

Rachel squeezed her hand. "You must be starving." She started to rise, but Maria, the housekeeper, was already bringing a bowl of soup over.

"You sit, Miss Rachel. I have Miss Sarah's food right here."

Sarah pushed her bowl away. "I should feed Logan first."

"Eat," Sid ordered. "You look ready to drop. You've been through one h.e.l.l of an ordeal yourself. You'll be no good to Logan if you're not well yourself."

Maria brought two more bowls of soup over for the sheriff and Sager, following that with a platter of sandwiches. Rachel retrieved the coffeepot from the stove and filled coffee cups.

She set the pot back, then settled in her seat with a great sigh as she looked at Sarah. "I, for one, am dying to hear everything! Logan keeps so much to himself, I worried he'd be alone the rest of his life. And here you've brought him home to us, Sarah. You're a miracle worker."

Sarah looked at the faces of Logan's family. Her family, he'd said. "We met at Fort Buford. He'd come in to change mounts and ended up riding in the stagecoach instead," she began, giving Rachel a quick smile. Rachel smiled back.

Home. She was home. It felt good. It felt wonderful. Over the next hour, through two bowls of soup, Sarah related the whole story.

Sid sat at the head of the table, white-faced and drawn. "I can't imagine the peril you two were in."

"He was never afraid," Sarah told him. "Never once. It helped me to see the Sioux as he does. He trades with many villages each year. He is well known among the different tribes." She looked at Rachel. "He bought some beautiful pieces of bead and leatherwork. When he wakes, you should come select something for yourself. I know he'd like you to have a gift."

"I'd like that." Rachel smiled.

The sheriff leaned back in his seat. "I heard Hawkins admit that the wanted poster we found for you was itself a forgery. He never did sign that confession, but I'll get the word out around here and make sure those posters are taken down."

"Thank you, Sheriff," Sarah said.

A week later, Logan was up and about. The doctor had been to see him a couple of times. The swelling was receding around his nose and eyes. The doctor said his broken nose would heal cleanly, thanks to Sager's setting it so efficiently. Logan was getting edgy to complete his tour of his posts. He'd just finished grooming his and Sarah's horses, his first physical activity in days. The doctor had said no riding for another couple of weeks, but Logan was thinking of breaking that edict.

"Logan!" Sid stepped out to the porch and hollered for him.

Wagons had been coming and going with increasing frequency as the household prepared for the wedding. Invitations had been sent out, supplies were arriving every day.

The dining room had been turned into a milliner's shop. Yards of fabric were bunched and piled throughout the room and half a dozen women, including Sarah, Rachel, and her friends Leah and Audrey, were gathered there, sewing a trousseau for Sarah. Audrey had brought a sewing machine and all of her children with her. Her oldest two girls sat in the dining room st.i.tching away. His nephews and Leah and Audrey's children ran like h.e.l.lions around the ranch, thrilled to have each other's company.

Logan paused in the foyer, watching the women work. They chattered and laughed. Sarah looked up and saw him. The smile she gave made his mind go blank. He started for her, intending to take her down to their room, but Sid called again from his office.

Logan kissed Sarah's forehead and followed his father's summons. In the den, Sager closed the door after him. Logan looked from his brother to his father. "What is it?"

Sid motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. "It's time we had a talk about a few things."

"What things?"

"What are your plans after the wedding?"

"What are you fishing for, Dad?"

"I want to know if you're home for good."

Logan looked at his father, read in his carefully blank expression the truth that Logan's answer mattered. "No, I'm not. I've built a life outside the Circle Bar. I need to get back to it."

"Logan, we want you to stay," Sager said, filling the silence that followed Logan's announcement.

"You want me to stay to work your ranch, Sager? I'm not interested."

Sid tossed a folded piece of paper to the edge of his desk. Neither he nor Sager said a word. Logan picked it up. It was Sid's will. "What is this? Have you been ill?"

"Read it," Sid said.

The will was short. There were provisions for Sid's long-term household staff and ranch hands, and Sager got a generous financial settlement. But Logan had been willed the house and all the Circle Bar land. He read it twice, then checked the signatures. Sid's and his lawyer'sa"dated nearly eight years ago.

"What is this?" he asked his father.

"I've been a d.a.m.ned fool, Logan. Sager convinced me to change my will shortly after he married Rachel. I thought what I had originally provided was fair, but Sager made me see things from a different perspective."

Logan looked at Sager. The will was exactly the opposite of what it had been all those years ago, with the financial settlement originally going to Logan and the land to Sager.

"So you see, little brother, I've been working your land for you all these years." Sager grinned at him. "We want you home."

"If there's not enough room in the house for your family and your old man, we can build an apartment for me over the bunkhouse."

Logan got out of his seat and paced once around the room. He looked at Sid and Sager, then shoved a hand through his hair. "Why would you do this?"

"Because you're part of this family. This is your legacy. And you belong here with us." Sid got up and came around to lean against the front of his desk. "You're my son, Logan Taggert. I raised you. I sent you to college. I want you home."

"I don't know what to say. I've built a business I need to continue to oversee."

"I don't see why you can't do both," Sid suggested. "Put a strong manager in charge of your trading posts. Step back a bit. Spend some time up here."

"There's room for an alliance between our ranches and your posts. We can supply all the beef your posts can sell. And with the agencies filling up, we could use your help getting contracts for beef," Sager added. "What do you say?"

"Let me talk it over with Sarah. I need to give it some thought."

Logan leaned against the archway leading to the dining room. Sarah looked up. Their eyes connected. Seeing the tension in him, the color washed from her face.

"Ladies, mind if I borrow Sarah for a bit?" he asked.

"Of course not. You two do what you need to do. I think we're close to a stopping point for today anyway," Rachel told him.

He held the front door open for Sarah. They walked across the porch and out into the afternoon sun. She looked up at him as he looked down at her. Their gazes held for a moment.

"You're scaring me, Logan."

They walked down the road a ways to the shade of an old cottonwood. He turned and drew Sarah's back against him. From where they stood, they had an excellent view of Sid's house.

Logan rested his chin on her head.

"Honey, how would you feel about staying here?"

"Staying here? Where are you going?"

"Nowhere. I'll be here, too. That was the deal, remember?"

She turned and looked up at him. "Live here?"

He watched her face, hoping beyond hope that her heart felt what his did. "Could you be happy here?"

"Yes. Could you?"

He nodded. "Sid and Sager want me to join their ranching operation. They want us to make our home here. I'm not closing the trading posts, so we'll still need to do some traveling, but this would be our main home."

Tears welled in Sarah's eyes. She turned and looked at the house. "My home. Our home." She swiped the tears from her cheeks. "I thought you said this would belong to your brother one day."

"Sager had Sid change his will. It will be ours one daya"hopefully a very long time from now. They made room for us. I want to be here, Sarah, but only if you do, too."

She nodded, words having simply failed her. He laughed and swung her around.

"Logan, be careful! Your ribs haven't healed yet."

"I'm healed enough, honey." He let her down slowly, keeping her body close to his. He bent his head, his gaze locked on hers. She tightened her arms around his neck, rising to meet him halfway. The kiss they shared was gentle, full of promise, full of joy.

They didn't immediately hear the distant rumble of a rider coming in fast. It was the sudden flurry of men hurrying toward them that triggered Logan's attention. A horse was thundering down the valley, charging toward them.

Sarah tensed. Even from this distance she could see it was an Indian. She straightened and sent a frenzied look around, caught up by the instinct to flee. Logan took hold of her arm. "Steady there. It's just Chayton."

As their friend approached, they saw he rode with White Bird in front of him. Sarah looked to see if Laughs-Like-Water was following with their son, but didn't see any others. Hearing the rider, Sid came out of the house and several men from the bunkhouse approached with guns, standing across the drive, putting themselves between the Indian and where Logan stood with Sarah.

"He is a friend. Stand down." Logan shouldered his way through the men as Chayton drew up in the drive. Sarah moved to stand beside Logan. For a moment, neither man spoke.

Chayton looked at Logan, then looked away. Pain ravaged his face. "Shadow Wolf, you have been like a brother to me," he said in English, his gaze swinging back to Logan.

"As you have been to me."

"I ask a favor."

"Anything."

Again, Chayton paused before speaking. "The scalp taker and his men attacked my village while we men were out hunting. They killed many, took many scalps. He killed Laughs-Like-Water and Little Hawk."

Sarah gasped. "No, Chayton. No." Sarah thought of them as they'd been at the camp a few weeks earlier. Little Hawk and White Bird playing chase with the younger apprentices, manning the spit over the roasting pit, holding a chocolate bar in their hands until it melted. She remembered the love Laughs-Like-Water had in her eyes when she looked at any of her family members. She'd been a force of nature.

"I am taking my people to Red Cloud's agency. When I go there, they will take my gun and my horse. In two years' time, they will take my daughter and send her to a school far away. I have lost everything. My home. My wife. My children."

Logan put his hand on Chayton's knee. "Stay here with us."

"I cannot leave my people. The favor I ask is that you continue to trade with my wife's apprentices. More than ever, they will need your support. It is her legacy I would have you honor."

"Of course. I will come in the autumn with the materials they need to work through the winter."

"Chaytona"" Sarah came forward. "Chayton, leave White Bird with us. We will foster her. She will have the education the agency demands, but in the home of people who love her. And you can visit her anytime you like."

Chayton's dark eyes studied her. He looked at Logan. "You would do this?"

"Gladly, my friend."

"I don't know when I will be able to come back."

"She will be safe with us. Come when you can."

A muscle worked at the edge of Chayton's jaw. He picked up his daughter, standing her on his thigh, facing him. He lifted a necklace from his neck and draped it over hers.

"You are my heart, White Bird," he said in Sioux. She put a tiny hand on his face as she frowned at him, her brows drawn together in tiny wrinkles. His nostrils flared with the effort of not weeping before strangers. He kissed her and hugged her tightly until she began to squirm, then he handed her down to Sarah. He and Logan exchanged a look.

Putting his heels to his horse, he rode away.