The Loner Page 7

  Well, except maybe a tumble.

  With his wife.

  Distracted by the thought, Lucky missed his block and caught a hard jab to his jaw. As his head snapped back, he heard Cade whistle and Holt observe, "Now that's what I call a lucky punch."

  Lucky, hell. Logan rolled up his sleeves and dived into the fight.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Caroline glanced down at the note in her hand, then up at the placard on the door. Thomas M. Addison, Attorney at Law.

  Her stomach took a roll. It had been rolling ever since the note from Logan arrived at her hotel this morning asking her to meet him here. Why would he want her to attend a meeting with an attorney?

  To discuss divorce?

  She swallowed a sudden bad taste in her mouth, then smoothed the skirt of her simple walking ensemble as her teeth tugged at her lower lip. It wasn't as if she hadn't considered the idea herself numerous times over the years, though she'd never followed through on it. It was silly for a woman in her circumstances to shy away from scandal. After all, she made her home with mostly reformed outlaws. Nevertheless, even in Artesia, where society was for the most part forgiving and accepting, the stigma of divorce was difficult to overcome. It was better to be a deserted wife than a divorced woman.

  Besides, it wasn't as if she had a reason to need a divorce. She had no beau. She hadn't wanted one. She had Will and Ben and Suzanne. That was enough. And on those nights when she'd lain in her lonely bed and yearned for something more, well, she told herself it didn't matter. Nobody's life was perfect. She should be grateful for the blessings she had and not be greedy about it.

  A divorce. Caroline's hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob. If that's what this was about, then she would deal with it. Maybe its time had come. Maybe the usefulness of this marriage had ended yesterday when she told Logan Grey he had a son—a legitimate son. Knowing she stood on solid moral ground regarding the marriage had given her the strength to approach the man. Now that she'd confronted the past, perhaps she'd feel free to move forward once Ben was safe and sound.

  "Think positive," she murmured as she opened the door.

  Warm walnut paneling lined the walls of the outer office. A large painting depicting the fall of the Alamo dominated the room, and as she viewed the graphic nature of the scene, Caroline wondered at the reasoning behind hanging such a picture in this particular law office. Was it a warning? Something like Beware, this is a place of slaughter?

  His gaze warm and admiring, a young gentleman stepped out from behind a desk. "May I help you?"

  "I'm Caroline Grey. I believe Mr. Addison is expecting me."

  "Yes, ma'am. Very good. This way. They're waiting for you." He led the way to a door at the end of a short hallway, then rapped on the frosted glass. "Mr. Addison? Mrs. Grey has arrived."

  Seconds later the door swung open to reveal a dapper gentleman with kind brown eyes and a winsome smile that set her immediately at ease. "Mrs. Grey. It's a pleasure. I'm Tom Addison. So glad you could join us this morning."

  Us? Caroline's gaze tracked into the office where she spied Logan standing at a window with his back toward her, a dark shadow framed by bright morning sunlight. Tension reignited and sizzled along her nerves. She pasted on a smile and said, "Hello, Logan."

  He turned his head and her eyes widened upon seeing his black eye and the cut on his chin. What in the world had happened to him? He nodded, then turned back to the window without so much as saying good morning. Well, that's rude.

  She tried to work up a snit, but failed. There wasn't room for any snit in amongst her guilt.

  She'd barely slept last night because of it. All night long, images of Logan Grey's expressions as he'd listened to her accusations and revelations played across her brain. She'd misjudged the man. He truly didn't deserve the worry she'd dumped in his lap.

  Logan believed his son to be in mortal danger when in fact, Will was happy as a pup with two tails getting to bunk with his best friend, Daniel Glazier, for a few days back home in Artesia. Not only was Daniel Will's favorite partner in mischief, but his mother, Ellen, was the best cook in the county. Her pot roasts were legendary, and she'd won the Best In Show blue ribbon for her desserts three years running at the Ector County Fair. Will was in far more danger of suffering bellyaches than bullet wounds at the moment, and it wasn't right that his father thought otherwise.

  But it is for Ben. Don't forget that. You can't forget that.

  "Would you care to sit down?" Mr. Addison's question jarred Caroline back to the present. He gestured toward one of a pair of wingback chairs in front of his desk. Caroline took her seat, smoothed her skirts and wondered if Logan would budge from the window and sit beside her. Instead, Addison sat in the chair and reached for the folder lying atop his desk. "We have some papers for you to sign."

  "Already?"

  That roused a comment out of Logan. "What do you mean, 'already'?"

  "I thought it took more time to instigate a divorce."

  "Divorce! What is this sudden obsession with divorce?" Logan scowled ferociously as he shook his head at her. "Divorce is a huge undertaking, and even though it's possible to do, it's not at all common. Who the hell said anything about divorce?"

  "Isn't that why you summoned me here?"

  "No!"

  The attorney smoothly interjected, "Mr. Grey has established a trust fund for your son, William. I need you to verify a few details for me if you would?"

  A trust fund? Caroline sat back in her chair in shock. Absently, she responded to the attorney's questions while her mind spun. Logan wanted to give Will money? Oh, my. She'd never even considered the financial aspects of inviting him into Will's life. Foolish of her in hindsight, but this never had been about money.

  "Will is well provided for," she said quietly. "I don't need your money."

  "Don't make an issue of this, Caroline." Logan linked his arms behind his back. "Will is my son. I'll provide for him financially. It's my right and responsibility. Had I known about him from the start, I would have done so then."

  "I didn't come to you for money."

  "I understand that."

  She folded her hands in her lap, squeezing hard. "Having you do this makes me feel.. .inadequate."

  "That's stupid," he said with a shrug. "You shouldn't take this as a criticism or an attempt to usurp your authority. If I choose to do either of those, I won't beat around the bush. You won't have any doubt that's what I'm doing."

  That, Caroline could believe. Logan did strike her as a forthright man who wouldn't play games. Still, the whole idea that he'd do this made her a bit...squirmy. She could better accept it if she weren't smack-dab in the middle of this big fat fib.

  The attorney placed a flurry of papers before her and beneath Logan's glare of expectation, Caroline abandoned any effort to resist. She signed her name where he told her, initialed where he indicated and did her best not to think about the monumental change in her life these actions represented.

  Not the money, though she'd have to think about that, too, at some point. No, what this did was indicate Logan Grey's intention to be part of Will's life. The boy wasn't hers alone any longer.

  Maybe that won't be such a bad thing, she told herself. Contrary to all her expectations, Logan might be a good father for Will, although she wasn't ready to commit to the idea as of yet. There was that darkness in him Wilhe-mina Peters had mentioned. She'd like to understand that.

  The man certainly was a puzzle. She wanted to ask him how he'd come about his black eye.

  "Lastly," said the lawyer, interrupting her reverie, "Mr. Grey has asked me to give you a copy of this." He handed Caroline a long cardboard folder thick with folded papers and titled with a single word: Will.

  "You want me to give this to Will?" she asked.

  The attorney shook his head. "It's Mr. Grey's Last Will and Testament."

  Caroline jerked her hand back and dropped the folder. As Mr. Addison bent to retrieve it, Logan shook his h
ead in disgust. "It's just a precaution. Stick it away somewhere, Caroline. With any luck you won't need to look for it for years to come." Then, with a glance to the lawyer he added, "We're done here, right, Tom?"

  "I believe so." He handed Logan's will to Caroline with a smile.

  "Good. Thanks for your help, Addison. If you'll come with me now, Caroline, we have a few other errands to tend to." He hooked his arm through hers and led her out of the building.

  Sunshine toasted her skin as Caroline ventured out onto Throckmorton Street. The aroma of baking bread floated on the gentle breeze and reminded her she'd neglected to eat breakfast. She'd been too nervous to stomach anything in anticipation of the law-office meeting, and while the bread smelled delicious, she still doubted that she could choke anything down. Not while Logan Grey held her arm, anyway.

  His touch overwhelmed her. His presence overwhelmed her. Everything about Lucky Logan Grey overwhelmed her.

  "My friends Cade and Holt are making this trip with me," he told her as they walked up the street. "We'll all leave on the eight-fifteen in the morning. I purchased you a ticket going as far as Artesia."

  Caroline studied his casual expression, and deduced that he expected her to make a fuss about traveling with him all the way to Black Shadow Canyon.

  Well, she wasn't a fluff-headed female with more emotion than good sense, and she knew she had no business going to Black Shadow Canyon. It wasn't a place for women, not even a woman who could hold her own during a bank robbery. It was one thing to challenge a trio of outlaws in the center of a city, but something else entirely to put herself in the middle of an isolated den of black-hearted killers and thieves.

  Now, if her child truly were in danger, she'd walk through hell itself to save him, but she'd be smart about it. She wouldn't complicate the situation or escalate the danger by being hardheaded and going somewhere she shouldn't go. If Will truly had run off to Black Shadow Canyon, she wouldn't demand to tag along with those attempting to rescue him.

  Probably.

  Not all the way to the canyon, anyway.

  Unless she thought he'd need her there. Then she'd go. Nothing would keep her away in that case. That wasn't being fluff-headed. That was being a mother.

  But Will wasn't in danger. Ben was. At his age, in his condition, he wasn't equipped to survive the perils of Black Shadow Canyon. His past reputation would protect him only so far. He didn't have the skills or the total lack of conscience to survive in a place where it was said people killed on a whim.

  Her friend, the father of her heart, was in danger. Lucky Logan Grey was her best—her only—hope of getting him home safely.

  That's why she intended to make the trip all the way to Van Horn, which was the railroad station closest to Black Shadow Canyon. Since the train made an hour-long dinner stop in Artesia, she had every intention of disembarking at that point. He didn't need to know that both she and Will would board on new tickets for a sleeping car before the train pulled out of the station, and that Logan and his friends wouldn't see them until they arrived in Van Horn.

  That's when she would confess her lie, and she and Will would make their plea. Logan already cared about Will. His actions today proved it. In the time she had left this afternoon and tomorrow, she would do whatever she could to reinforce those feelings and to strengthen them. Then, when they revealed themselves and the truth, she had to believe that Logan wouldn't disappoint his son, not when he was so close to the canyon and not while staring into eyes so much like his own.

  But he didn't need to know any of this now, so her only response to his comment about buying her a train ticket was a simple, "Thank you. It'll be good to be home."

  He led her into the mercantile, where he piled his selections on the counter. Ammunition. Lots of ammunition. A campfire coffeepot. A new bedroll. Caroline's brow arched in surprise as she watched him dawdle over a baseball glove.

  He picked it up, then set it down. He walked to another aisle and added a pack of playing cards to his purchases.

  Then he wandered back to the sporting section and picked up the baseball mitt yet again. "Does the boy like baseball?"

  "He does. He likes it very much."

  He hesitated another moment, then tossed the glove onto the shelf. "He probably has a mitt."

  He obviously wanted to buy Will a ball glove, so why the uncertainty? Did he think she wouldn't allow it? "He has a mitt, but it is worn near to pieces."

  "Hmm."

  Logan stepped down the aisle to a section of personal-care items and took half a minute to inspect a can of tooth powder. Caroline wasn't prepared to confront him about his wishes, but she decided to try once again with a subtle approach. "Last summer he and his friends played almost every evening. Will is wicked with the bat, but he says he needs more control throwing. He is always after Ben to play catch with him. Ben's rheumatism makes that difficult."

  Logan glanced back toward the mitts, and the yearning on his face all but took her breath away. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Logan. Just buy him the danged thing."

  His lips twisted in a rueful smile. "You don't think he'd throw it back at me? I should have been the one playing catch with him."

  What was it about seeing a streak of vulnerability in a strong man that made a woman's heart melt? "He'll be thrilled with the glove, Logan. He'll probably ask you to play catch, then try to fire the ball so hard that it breaks your hand."

  "Do you think?"

  "Yes, I think."

  It was like opening the floodgates of a dam. Logan bought the glove, then he add baseballs and a bat to a pile of purchases he built atop the counter. He added a slingshot, a checkerboard, marbles, another deck of cards and a new straw hat to the stack. When his gaze lingered on an advertisement for a bicycle, Caroline put her foot down. "No. You'll spoil him."

  "It's not spoiling. I have fourteen years worth of birthdays and Christmases to make up for."

  She tried to come up with an argument against that, and failed. After briefly debating color choice, he ordered a red bicycle for Will.

  Logan didn't slow down until he wandered to the section of the mercantile that sold saddles. There, he paused. "When I was a boy, I wanted my own horse more than anything else in the world. I knew what he'd look like, right down to the white stockings on his legs. A few years after I left the orphanage I saw him. He was tied to a hitching post in front of a saloon in Big Spring, Texas, and he stepped right out of my imagination. I'd have done anything to own that horse."

  Caroline's eyes went wide. "Did you steal it?"

  "I'm flattered by the high opinion you have of me." He smirked. "I bargained as hard as I could, but the owner wanted fifteen dollars more than I had in my pockets. Couldn't get him down another dollar. I did talk him into giving me a week to get the cash."

  "Did you raise the money?"

  Logan reached out and trailed a finger across the saddle's supple leather. "Couldn't find any work in Big Spring, so I went on to the next town."

  She put the pieces together. Big Spring wasn't far from Midland. "You met my father."

  "Yep." He flashed her a sheepish grin. "The day I left you, I went back to Big Spring and bought myself my dream horse. Named him Scout. Happiest moment of my life. I thought I had everything in the world." He sighed and shook his head. "Scout was a damned fine horse. Saved my life twice while I was living down in Mexico. He took me all the way to California to see the Pacific Ocean. Had him for eight years."

  "What happened to him?"

  "I was working for the Long Bar Ranch in Eastern Colorado when we tangled with a gang of cattle rustlers. Bastards shot him right out from under me. What about Will? Does he have a horse?"

  "You are not buying Will a horse."

  "But—"

  "No. Will already owns a horse, a bay gelding Suzanne and Ben gave him for his eleventh birthday."

  "What about a dog? A boy should have a dog. I always wanted a dog when I was growing up. We adopted a stray one time, but something
about him made one of the girls sneeze. Nana Nellie made us give him away."

  "No dogs, either, Grey. You can give him all the baseballs you want, but I absolutely draw the line at things that breathe."

  "But a dog—"

  "He already has a dog. A mutt named Sly."

  "Sly, hmm? That's a good name for a dog. But you know, dogs are often better behaved when they have a playmate of their own. Maybe we could get Sly a companion."

  "No. Sly doesn't need a companion. One dog is plenty for our household."

  "Spoilsport."

  "Yes, it's another word for mother, I'm told."

  He laughed and paid for his purchases, making arrangements to have what he couldn't carry with him boxed and delivered to the station in time for tomorrow's train. As they departed the mercantile, Caroline shook her head at the packages in his arms. "Your extravagance is ridiculous. I don't know whether to thank you or scold you."

  He teased her with a wink, then suggested, "Instead, why don't you tell me more about our son. Is he a good student?"

  "When he wants to be. He's quick at mathematics, and he has a curious mind that helps him excel in science. But he's a horrible speller, and don't even get me started about his Latin lessons."

  "Latin? Why does the boy need to know Latin?"

  Caroline halted abruptly. "Oh, my. That's amazing. You sounded exactly like him."

  "Oh, yeah?" A smile hovered on his lips and the gleam in his eyes betrayed his delight at the thought.

  Watching him, Caroline was once again struck by how wrong she'd been about Logan Grey. This wasn't a man who had turned his back on his child. Impulsively, she said, "I have a sketchbook. Suzanne had a talent for drawing, and Will was her favorite subject. Would you care to see it?"

  He grinned with pleasure. "I'd like that very much."

  "It's in my room at the Blackstone Hotel."

  "Good. I can leave these packages there." He shifted the shopping bags into his left hand. "I don't know why I didn't have everything boxed up and sent to the train station."