The Loner (39 page)
Your family.
Pain roared up inside him, bending him over double. Logan braced his hands on his knees, wondering if his body would explode from tumors that had grown too big to be contained.
Then he opened his eyes and his gaze fell upon an item on display behind the plate-glass picture window.
In that moment, Logan knew what he had to do.
Caroline sat on the settee in her living room surrounded by gaily wrapped boxes and dear friends. An hour ago her women friends had surprised her by descending on her home bringing baby gifts, desserts and more laughter than this house had seen in months.
Not that she and Will had a bad life, because they didn't. He liked school and he'd made new friends. He enjoyed living in the bigger city. She had filled a hole in her life by writing book reviews and covering local elections for the
Daily Democrat.
Another hole—the hole in her heart—continued to plague her, paining her even more as the baby's birth approached. But Caroline was a strong woman and she dealt with the ache, all the while aware that she was better off than Logan. She had Will and the baby. Logan, wherever he was, whoever he was with, was alone.
She untied a big yellow bow and opened the box. "Oh, they are beautiful," she said, pulling out a multicolored receiving blanket and a pair of baby booties knitted from the softest of yarns. "Wilhemina, did you make these yourself?"
"I did," she said with a satisfied sniff. "Now that Mr. Peters has grown so persnickety about my retirement from the newspaper, I have time on my hands."
"Well, they're lovely and I will put them to very good use."
"I treasure the blanket you made for me, Wilhemina," Emma MacRae observed. "You have true talent with knitting needles."
Kat Kimball glanced up from the notepad where she kept track of gifts and givers so Caroline could pen her thank-you notes and nodded. "Mama is a wonderful seamstress, but you have her beat when it comes to knitted goods. But don't tell her I said that."
"I heard you, Katrina," Jenny McBride called from the kitchen where she was refilling the coffeepot.
All the women laughed, then Maribeth Prescott handed Caroline another gift saying, "At risk of sounding like one of the children, open mine next, Caro. Open mine."
It was a huge box intricately wrapped. "Who in the world tied these knots?"
"Kat's daughters. They had entirely too much fun wrapping the gifts."
Her concentration on the ribbons, she only vaguely noted the quieting of conversation around her. "I should have asked Will to leave me his knife before he went off with the men to the stock show," she said, picking at a knot with her fingernails.
A pocketknife appeared before her. "Here, use mine."
Logan.
Caroline gasped, her gaze jerking up, her hand lifting to clasp the medallion she never took off. Sure enough, Logan Grey stood beside her. He handed her the knife, but it slipped through her fingers.
She realized that the room filled with a dozen females had grown as quiet as a church. "Logan," she breathed.
"Hello, Caroline." He picked up Wilhemina Peters's baby booties and studied them with a warm gleam in his eyes. "Whoa, those are tiny. Pretty, but tiny."
"Logan," Caroline repeated.
Kat Kimball's impatient voice called, "Is that all you have to say?"
Logan chuckled, then said, "See, the thing about that is that Caroline isn't the one who needs to talk first. That would be me. Her explanation of why she hadn't bothered to inform me of the pending arrival can wait.. .unless... How pending, Caro?"
"T-t-two weeks."
"Okay. Two weeks I can deal with. From the size of her stomach, I was worrying I only had two minutes."
He moved around in front of her and went down on his knees, taking her hands in his. His expression intense, his eyes glowing with emotion that was sure and proud and fierce, he said, "Caroline Grey, I love you. Will you be my wife? Be the mother of my children? Will you be my family and make me, once and for all, the luckiest man in Texas?"
Wilhemina Peters hissed toward Maribeth Prescott. "Aren't they already married?"
"Yes. Hush," Mari snapped back.
Caroline had to clear her throat to speak. "Oh, Logan. Are you sure?"
"Sweetheart, you can paint it on the barn."
"We don't have a barn."
"On the side of the house, then. Hell, you can tattoo it on that stomach of yours. There's plenty of room."
"Quit making cracks about my stomach!"
"I love your stomach and the baby growing inside— the baby I didn't know about—but we'll talk about that later."
"You mentioned that."
"I love Will and Sly and this home you have made for me. I love our family, Caroline. I love you. For now and forever, for however long forever turns out to be."
Jenny McBride sighed. "I'm going to cry."
Emma MacRae sniffed. "It's so romantic."
Caroline Grey steepled her hands over her mouth, then asked with suspicion. "No one told you? You didn't come back because of the baby?"
"No one told me. I came back because I finally figured out that this is where I belong. Here, with you and our children. You are my heart and my home, Caroline, and I'm sorry, so very sorry, that it took me so long to admit it. Our son was right when he called me a fool and a coward, but I think I needed to leave to find my courage. I did that, honey, on a street in New York City, of all places."
"What was in New York City?" she asked.
"Answer my question and I'll show you."
"What question?"
Logan let out a little frustrated laugh, then touched his forehead to hers. "Can I come home, Caroline?"
"Yes! Oh, yes!" She threw her arms around him then and started to cry as she pressed kisses on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead and finally, as her lips hovered above his, she said, "Welcome home, Logan Grey."
With the kiss, the hurt inside them healed.
When they finally broke apart, Logan said, "You can call me Lucky."
Caroline laughed and fumbled for a handkerchief and wiped the tears from her face, feeling the warmth of a blush in her cheeks as her friends cooed and clapped their approval until Kat Kimball spoke up. "Wait. What about her question? What about New York?"
"Oh." Logan grinned and the front door opened as he rolled to his feet. "You know, the minute I saw it, I knew it was a sign. Still, I never figured it was as big a sign as it turned out to be."
He turned to leave the room when Will let out a yelp. "Ouch! Who left this thing sitting in the middle of the hallway? Gotta be more careful, you know. We don't want my mama tripping over it."
Carrying a wooden rocking horse in his hands, he stopped in the doorway and gaped at his father.
Logan shrugged and said, "When I was a boy I had a rocking horse named Racer."
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1619-2
THE LONER
Copyright © 2008 by Geralyn Dawson Williams
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