The Loner (29 page)

"What do you mean?"

Now the time had come for her to jump off the cliff, so to speak. She didn't want to do it. She hated the thought of making herself vulnerable this way, but Caroline knew that reaching a man this badly wounded required a great show of faith. And more.

"I love you, Logan Grey."

The words echoed in the silence that followed. For the briefest of instants, something flared in his eyes— hope or happiness or joy. Then he flinched as if in pain and his entire body went stiff. "Ah, Caroline, don't."

She ignored his protest and pressed onward. "I love you and you don't have to be alone any longer. I can understand why events in your past have made you think it's necessary, but it's time to stop being afraid."

"Hell, Caroline..." His inner struggle played across his face. He wanted to believe her, to take the chance, she could see it. But his fear was a monster, and it would take some time, some doing, for her to convince him that he deserved another chance at a happy ending.

She put a finger against his mouth. "Just let me say this. In fact, I'd rather you didn't say anything at all. You are my husband, Logan Grey, and you're the father of my son, and if nature warrants, the father of the child I could even now be carrying."

"Oh God," he muttered against her finger, panic brimming in his eyes.

"We already are a family, albeit one of an unusual circumstance, so it's really too late for you to say it can't happen. You have a family and I intend to make a home for you."

"Dammit, Caroline! Didn't you hear a word I said?"

She'd heard. She'd also seen the battle he fought in the pain on his face, the anguish in his eyes. He wanted to walk away because he thought he was trouble for her and Will. Yet, he obviously didn't want to walk away.

"I heard it," she replied, her smile bittersweet. "But I choose to be optimistic. You are a courageous man at heart, Logan. You've survived things that would have killed a lesser man or at least made him bitter and mean. You've allowed this fear to rule you for too long, but it can be overcome. I am willing to give it some time. I'm willing to bet on myself and on our home and family... I'm willing to bet on you."

He dipped his head, rested his brow on hers. "You're crazy, Caroline Grey."

"Crazy in love with you." She lifted her face and went up on her tiptoes. "Kiss me, Logan. Show me what I know is in your heart—even if you can't say the words just quite yet."

He groaned his defeat and touched his lips to hers. It was a kiss unlike any other they had shared. A kiss filled with tenderness and tears, a kiss filled with yearning, so sweet that she couldn't help but weep at the beauty of it.

The menacing and nearby
sha-shuck
of a round being chambered in a shotgun shocked both Caroline and Logan from their sensual fog. Then came the sound of the sweetest words Caroline had ever heard.

"You have half a second to get your filthy paws off my ma before I shoot you dead, you sorry son of a bitch."

"Will!" Caroline tore out of Logan's arms and darted toward the boy, squealing with joy and relief. "Oh, Will."

Logan's heart about stopped as he watched her rush toward the gun, and he didn't breathe freely until he saw the barrel shift toward the ground. Then she was in the boy's arms, weeping and laughing and squealing like a mashed cat.

"Mama!" The single word conveyed both concern and embarrassment as one arm wrapped around his mother and the other kept the gun handy.

Smart thinking, Logan thought as he studied his son. Will was almost as tall as Logan, skinny as a rail, but with broad shoulders that promised a full frame. Looking into his face was like staring into a magic mirror that took years off Logan's own visage. Except the eyes that glared at Logan were full of protective fury and awkward awareness.

Great. What a wonderful way to make a first impression
—
my hands on his mother's ass.

Caroline babbled. "Oh, sweetheart, I was so scared. Are you all right? Did he hurt you? Oh, baby."

"I'm fine. Are you all right, Mama?" Again, he shot Logan a glare hot enough to spark a fire.

"I'm fine, too. I'm wonderful. Oh, Will." She stepped back, gazed at her son, then burst into blubbering tears and collapsed, overcome with emotion.

"Caroline!" Logan said, taking a step toward her.

"Get back!" Will snapped. He hovered over her, shielding her from Logan. "What did you do to her?"

Logan debated the best way to handle the situation. Did he assert himself as the leader of their little pack here and now, or did he step back and allow the boy time to adjust?

Caroline took the decision out of his hands by lifting her head and saying, "Be nice, William. Just give me a minute. I need to cry a little more."

"But you never cry." He shot an accusing glare toward Logan. "She never cries!"

"She's been worried sick about you. Plus, it's been a difficult trip. She's a little wobbly right now, but I suspect she'll be right as rain once she waters herself out."

Will scowled and rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flitting between his mother and his father. "I don't like it."

"Can't say I like it much, either. Few things in the world scare me like a female's tears." He waited a beat, then casually asked, "Are you hungry? The rabbit stew needs to cook a while longer, but I can rustle up something to fill the hole in the meantime."

The boy was obviously torn. It was clear that he didn't want to accept anything from Logan, but hunger was a powerful motivator—especially since the boy had been on his own for a bit.

"I guess I could eat," Will finally said with a shrug.

Logan strode over to the supply bags and pulled out a can of peaches. He held it up, Will nodded and Logan tossed first an opener, and then the can to him. The boy caught them, then as he opened the can, he stated, "You are Logan Grey, aren't you?"

Logan tensed. "I am."

But Will didn't say any more. He focused his attention on the peaches, devouring the entire can in half a minute.

His mouth twisted in a wry smile, Logan handed over a second can. "You want me to heat some beans or do you like them cold?"

"Cold is good."

Logan nodded and fished a can of beans out of the supply bag. Before Will was through, he'd polished off a second can of beans, an apple and two strips of beef jerky. Logan watched in fascinated wonder until his son washed down his meal with half a canteen of water and curiosity compelled him to ask, "Did Plunkett feed you at all?"

The boy froze. "You know about him?"

"That was a mighty ugly burn he was sporting on his ugly mug. I assume you were responsible for it?"

"You saw him?" Every drop of color drained from Will's face. He glanced around, searching for the shotgun he'd set aside in order to eat. He didn't realize Logan had picked it up and stuck it in the supply bag. "Is he near here? Look, we need to hide. He's dangerous. He's—"

"Dead."

His head snapped up. His eyes were round as saucers. "What?"

"Our paths crossed this morning. I killed him. Deuce Plunkett will never hurt you or anyone else you love ever again."

With that, all the fear and all the fury drained out of the boy. He stumbled backward a step and for a moment there Logan thought he might collapse just the way his mother had. Instead, he bent over, put his hands on his knees and sucked in a heavy breath. "You killed him."

"Yep."

"Did you shoot him?"

"I did."

Will nodded. "I threw hot beans in his face."

"Good choice. Those suckers stuck to his skin. Burned him bad."

"Made him slow down on the trigger. He thought he had me, but I jumped him and managed to get away."

"Smart thinking. I'm proud of you, son." When Will shot him a sharp, disgruntled look, Logan added, "Maybe it's a little soon for me to use the term?"

The boy shrugged, then glanced toward his mother as if looking for help, but Caroline appeared to have cried herself asleep. Logan gave her a hard look. He could use a little help here, too. Was she playing possum?

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," Will finally said. "It's just that.. .well.. .this feels mighty peculiar. I mean, I hadn't eaten in two days, then I get a whiff of rabbit and I follow it to find my mother and your hands... well... I want to skip that part."

"Good idea. Great idea."

"Then you tell me you killed him... I feel like it's last year when my mama made me join the local theater group and I was living someone else's life."

"Caroline must really like that theater. She tried to make me wear a costume as a disguise. Orange pants and a purple vest." Logan made a show of shuddering.

A grin flickered on Will's lips. "She once tried to talk me into being a girl character in a play. A while back I had a real high voice and they needed another singer. I had to threaten to run away from home to get her to let it go."

"Good Lord." Logan shook his head. "You could have been scarred for life."

Will filled his cheeks with air, then blew out a slow breath. "I have a million questions, but I don't really want to ask them. I have a few things I want to say to you, but I can't seem to work up the mad to do it. Like I said, it's peculiar."

"Like a dream," Logan agreed. "I understand that. It's the same way for me."

"It is?"

"Yep. Ever since your mother dropped the bombshell about you, I've imagined meeting you." Logan stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Never once did I imagine you'd be pointing a gun at me."

"You had your hands on my mama's—"

"We're skipping that part, remember?" Logan interrupted quickly. Hurriedly, he continued, "It's extra strange that you look so much like me."

"I do not." Will sneered. "I'm skinny."

Logan snorted. "You have more meat on your bones than I did at your age, and you're the spittin' image of me. My friends who knew me back in the day recognized it in the picture your mother showed us. Looking at you now...it's unsettling. Not a bad unsettling, but like you said—peculiar."

They both nodded sagely, and silence fell between them. Almost a full minute passed before Will said, "I probably ought to tell you that I've gone a lot of years without having a pa. Don't know as I think I'm ready to think of you that way."

"Fair enough. I'd like to think of you as my son, though, if it's all right with you."

Will shrugged. Shoved his hands in his pockets. Shuffled his feet. Logan thought of something to fill the quiet. "Your mother says you like baseball."

"I do."

"Do you only like to play yourself or do you follow the Texas League at all?"

"I love the Texas League. Ben has put me in charge of collecting the scores to print in the Artesia newspaper. I got to go to a Fort Worth Cats game once—Ben and Suzanne took me a couple years ago."

"Yeah? What did you think?"

'The Cats needed pitching bad, but it was a good time."

"Recently a fellow approached me about buying into the team."

"Into the Cats?" Will's eyes went round and wide. "Really? Oh, wow. Are you going to do it?"

"I'm thinking about it. I see some problems with the League, however. It's desperate for some organization."

With baseball, father and son found common ground and they spoke at some length about teams, players and Will's dream of playing in one of the pro leagues someday.

Neither of them noticed that Caroline sat watching them, a smug smile of satisfaction pasted on her face.

Later that evening, long after the stew was consumed, the topic of baseball exhausted and summaries of the days since Will and Caroline parted ways exchanged, Logan left camp to make a guard circuit before turning in for the night, leaving Caroline and Will alone for the first time since his appearance at the campsite. Caroline was grateful to have the chance to talk to her son. She was finding it difficult to tell what he was thinking and feeling where his father was concerned.

Sitting cross-legged beneath a tree, she used a stick to draw a game of tic-tac-toe in the dirt, then she tossed the stick toward her son. "Come play."

Will showed her a tired smile, then did as she asked, taking a seat beside her and drawing an
X
in the upper right-hand corner of the grid. "What is it, Mama?"

She wanted to brush his hair away from his face but she stifled the urge. He'd already fussed at her once for hovering. "I want to talk to you about Logan. I imagine you have some questions."

He nodded. "Is he going after Ben? No one has said a word about him and I was afraid to bring it up."

"I don't know," she replied. "That's a discussion for tomorrow, I think. Personally, I need a good night's sleep before I fight any more battles."

"So you think it will be a battle?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure." Though she'd never say it to Will, she wasn't at all certain what she wanted Logan to agree to do. These last few days—the violence and the killings and Will kidnapped—had shaken her. Her love for Ben had not diminished one whit, but her maternal protectiveness had tripled. Quadrupled. And for that matter, she didn't want Logan risking his life in Black Shadow Canyon, either. "One thing I've learned about your father, Will, is that he has very good instincts when it comes to danger. We need to carefully consider everything he says in regard to rescuing Ben."

"We're too close to just abandon him now."

"I know, honey. But.. .let's save all that for tomorrow, shall we? I'd like to hear your impressions of Logan."

The boy shrugged. "I don't know. He seems all right, I guess." A slight hint of bitterness entered his voice as he added, "You certainly seem to like him."

Okay, time to tackle this bull by the horns.
"I do like him, Will. Considering my past attitude toward him, I imagine that surprises you, but I learned some things about him and our past that I never suspected." She gave him a synopsis of what she'd discovered regarding her marriage, then added, "He was shaken to the core to learn about you, Will. He didn't turn his back on us. He honestly didn't know about us."