The Loner Read online

  "This isn't a contest, Logan Grey."

  "Right about now it feels like a war, to be honest. And speaking of honest, you need to be honest with yourself and admit that I was the one who pulled back today. Blame me and curse me, but you were right there with me."

  She sucked in a breath as the color faded from her face. Quietly, she said, "I know that."

  Well, hell. Logan dragged a hand through his hair. "Look, Caroline, I don't want to hurt you. There's a fire between us, and there's no denying that. How we choose to deal with it.. .well.. .it seems a shame to waste it. Heat like that doesn't come along very often."

  "I shouldn't be thinking about heat. I should be thinking about fear and danger and rescue. I won't be ruled by my passions, Logan Grey."

  "Seems to me that indulging in and being ruled by are two different things. And you can't think about Will's trouble all the time. That will drive you crazy. Believe me, I have plenty of experience in such things. That aside, I reckon we should both spend some time deciding what we want and how we intend to deal with one another. But, Caroline, when you are doing your thinking, you need to know this. No matter what happens to us, I aim to be part of that boy's life from here on out. You invited me in, now you're going to have to deal with me."

  Logan expected her to slam the door behind him.

  He wasn't disappointed.

  Scanned by Coral

  CHAPTER SIX

  From her hotel room window, Caroline watched dawn break in a symphony of pinks, oranges and golds. She'd slept maybe an hour over the course of the night and that was spent curled up in a fetal position at the head of the bed—as far from the spot of her stupidity as possible.

  She couldn't believe what had happened. Couldn't understand how she'd left her brain in the hallway when she brought Logan Grey into her room. What was it about that man that sapped every bit of sense she possessed? He was like a vampire who sucked away her intelligence rather than her blood. That he turned into a hot, pounding pulse of sexual desire.

  "Leave it to Lucky Logan Grey to be different from all the other vampires," she muttered.

  She butted her forehead against the cool window-pane. She wasn't being fair. Her behavior wasn't Logan's fault. None of this was Logan's fault. Not really. She was the one who was here under false pretenses. She was the one who brought him into her room.

  The fact of the matter was she'd had an infatuation for Logan Grey since she was in pigtails. "Will I never grow up?"

  Actually, she might well be forced into such a state when they reached Van Horn. Logan might not forgive her lie.

  Maybe she shouldn't regret what had happened as much as what had not happened. That may well have been her last chance to enjoy marital relations with her husband.

  "Aargh!" She banged her head against the window-pane three more times.

  An hour later, bathed and dressed and with her defenses shored up, Caroline left the Blackstone Hotel. The downtown street bustled with activity as workers hurried to begin their business day. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and bread right out of the oven drifted on the cool morning breeze. Caroline stopped at the bakery owned by the McBride sisters' aunt Claire and purchased a cinnamon roll for her breakfast and a scrumptious-looking chocolate cake she intended to take home to Will. Then, fifteen minutes before the train's scheduled departure, she arrived at the Texas and Pacific Depot.

  Logan and his two friends waited outside. Caroline greeted Mr. Driscoll and Mr. Hollister before turning to her husband. She had to force herself to meet his gaze. "Good morning, Logan."

  "Mornin'." Without betraying any remembrance of their encounter the previous day, he peered into the shopping bag she carried and whistled. "Look here, boys. Caro brought us a treat."

  "No, it's for..." Oh. Wait. She couldn't say Will. This lying was absolutely a problem for her. "Lunch. The cake is for dessert after lunch."

  "Oh, that's one of Claire McBride's cakes," Holt Driscoll observed, eyeing the printing on the bag. "You know, ma'am, lunch is an awfully long time away. How about we make it a midmoming snack?"

  The hopeful waggle of his eyebrows made Caroline smile and reconsider. After all, these two men were risking their lives for her family. If they wanted Will's cake, they could have it.

  "Here." She handed Holt the bag. "Have it whenever you want."

  "What a woman," Cade said, snatching the bag from his friend's hand. The two men scrapped like little boys over the sweet and set the tone for the first few hours of their trip.

  With passengers in the railcar surprisingly sparse, the men stretched out on one bench apiece, allowing Caroline a seat of her own, also. Conversation remained light and easy, and none of Logan's comments to her ventured into personal matters. Thank goodness.

  Cade talked her into breaking out the cake in the second hour of the trip. They'd finished the entire thing by the time the train reached Abilene.

  Caroline drifted into sleep shortly after lunch, and she dreamed that she was home and that Suzanne was still alive. It was a lovely fantasy; she stood at the stove stirring a pot of stew while Suzanne worked flour into bread dough on the counter. Will's laughter rang out from the other room and moments later, a man's hands gripped her waist, a mouth nuzzled her neck. Logan.

  Awareness trickled in. She was warm. Comfortable. Secure. The scent of starch and bayberry tickled her nose. Mmm. She didn't want to wake up.

  So she didn't. She snuggled against the warmth, drifted and dreamed.

  This time her dreams turned dark.

  She is alone in the middle of a vast plain. Something bad is happening, something terrible, and she needs to get home. She starts running but she doesn't know what direction to go. Fear is a big black raven that sinks its talons into her shoulders and flaps its wings, creating a violent wind that makes it harder for her to run. Suddenly, the raven screams and the plain transforms to a mud bog that sucks her feet until she sinks to her knees.

  Then on the horizon, light dawns and reveals a shadowed figure standing with his arms outstretched. Thunder booms and from behind her comes the pound of hoofbeats headed her way. She twists around and as lightning flashes against a red sky, she sees a horseman riding out of the black void. His horse is black. His clothing is black. Beneath the broad brim of his black hat, red eyes glow.

  Caroline wants to scream, but she can't make a sound.

  Lightning blazes and thunder rolls and bitter cold wind whips over her as the devil-rider rides past, flying toward the light. The figure on the horizon begins waving his arms.

  Caroline hears a cry, a shrill keening sound. Then laughter. Harsh, maniacal laughter that causes the raven's claws to dig deeper.

  She struggles, battles against the mud that now threatens to swallow her. Thunder cracks and booms as the horseman rides straight for the figure that shouts out, "Ma! "

  "Will!" she cried, breaking through the dream, fighting her way free of the mud, which upon awakening proved to be Logan Grey's arms.

  "Shush, sweetheart," he murmured, nuzzling her temple. "It's all right. Everything is fine. You were dreaming."

  "What...?"

  "It was a dream. Probably the storm brought it on."

  Caroline's head felt thick, her thoughts slow as cold molasses. Deep within her she felt a bone-chilling fear. "Will."

  "I thought it might be something like that." Logan gently brushed her hair away from her face. "I know you must be frightened half to death about him. This is a difficult burden to bear."

  A dream. It was just a dream. Caroline drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "It was dark and loud. Someone was after Will."

  It was so real, she thought, her heart racing. So terrifying. The coppery taste of fear coated her mouth, and she thought that if she had needed to stand up, her knees wouldn't have supported her weight. She'd never had a dream like that before, so clear, so threatening.

  Probably her guilty conscience acting up. That's what lying would do to a person.

  Better that tha
n a premonition.

  "Oh, dear." She shuddered, and Logan patted her knee.

  "It's been dark and loud outside," he said. "We went through a thunderstorm while you were sleeping. Looks like we're heading into another one now. They tend to come in waves this time of year."

  Only then did Caroline become aware of the view outside the railcar. They were passing through a part of Texas that was flat from horizon to horizon. Off to the west she could see a thundercloud that seemed to fill the entire sky.

  "West Texas always needs rain," she murmured. Then, when the fact that Logan had his arm around her finally dawned on her, she added, "You switched seats."

  "Couldn't stand to watch your head bobbing any longer. 'Fraid you'd get whiplash. Besides, some rough-looking characters from the other car joined us. Didn't like leaving you alone."

  Caroline knew she should straighten up and put some distance between them, but she couldn't summon the will to do so. Her dream lingered like a hangover, and Logan provided that unique comfort she'd wished for thousands of times over the years. He was Will's father. He could share the burden of her worry. What would that hurt? "How long did I sleep?"

  Logan slipped his right hand into his pocket and pulled out a gold watch. His left arm didn't budge from around her. "A couple of hours. You must have been tired."

  "I didn't sleep well last night," she admitted.

  "More bad dreams?"

  Due perhaps to the lingering effects of her dream combined with the constant presence of guilt about her lie, Caroline was compelled to answer honestly. "I couldn't stop thinking about what happened."

  "In your room," he clarified.

  "It just... I don't know what happened."

  "I do. Desire sizzles between us like that lightning flashing out there on the prairie. We had it fifteen years ago and we have it still today."

  "It's not normal."

  He chuckled. "Sure it is, honey. It's nature at its finest, although from my experience, it's rare as bluebonnets in October." He traced the whorl of her ear with his index finger as he added, "I think we would be doing ourselves a great disservice if we fail to take advantage of it."

  "Of course you think so. You're a man."

  "And you are a woman who is missing out on one of life's greatest pleasures. I told you yesterday we needed to think about our situation and I spent some time doing just that. I have to tell you, honey, the fact that you've been celibate all these years knocked me for a loop right at first. Someone with your fire and passion and beauty— it's a damned shame. I figured that men must have come calling from time to time—after all, you're as beautiful as a summer sunset—so for you to sleep alone all this time means you must have some powerful convictions regarding sexual relations outside of marriage."

  That managed to clear the remaining cobwebs from her brain. "It's called adultery, and yes, I do believe it's wrong. The Bible makes that very clear."

  "See? That's not a problem for us. You can do it with me free and clear. You won't have to waste yourself anymore." He patted her knee and smiled with satisfaction.

  She almost took a swing at his jaw. Waste myself? Waste myself! "Of all the egotistical..." She literally bit her tongue, took a deep breath, then continued, "So what are you suggesting? Are you proposing we live together as man and wife in every sense of the word?"

  "In the sexual sense, definitely. Beyond that, well, I'm not a home-and-hearth kind of man. My job prevents that, if nothing else. However, I do intend to keep as close an eye as possible on Will, so I will be around whenever it's possible. I think it's a good solution, honey. Your life won't have to change hardly at all, but you'll have the benefits of the bedroom."

  "Lucky me," she muttered beneath her breath. "You don't have a clue about family."

  He went stiff. "Mine died when I was five, so no, I don't have a lot of experience."

  Caroline folded her arms and studied him, the details she'd learned of his past rolling through her mind. She could see him all too well, a bedraggled little boy who'd lost everyone he'd loved. It broke her heart to imagine, and it also gave her a bit of insight into how he could be so clueless when it came to women, marriage and family.

  She shook her head. "You have a point, Logan. I'm not at all certain I agree with it or accept it, but I can see why you would think what you do. The good thing is that nothing needs to be decided now. We're on a train, not in a hotel room. You're dangerous in a hotel room."

  "Hell, honey." He chuckled and lowered his voice even more. "I could be dangerous right here if you were of a mind."

  She scooted all the way over against the window and he laughed out loud. "All right. Don't fret. I'll behave... for now."

  Caroline looked away from him, staring out toward the oncoming storm. She didn't know what to say to him. Logan Grey was a constant surprise to her. When she had decided to come to Fort Worth, she had known he might want a relationship with Will. She'd never expected he'd want one with her.

  She had never dreamed she would like the idea so much herself.

  "I've been thinking about Will, too," Logan continued. "I grew up without a father so I know how difficult that is on a boy. I decided that I'm glad that Will has had your friend Ben as another male he could look up to—even if he is an old outlaw. I had Reverend Jennings so I know what a blessing that can be. Still, that's no substitute for a flesh-and-blood father. Will is fourteen. These next few years are important for a young man. They're the years he'll need a father the most. I can't be around all the time, but I can be around enough to matter."

  "That would be good for him."

  "It would be good for you, too."

  Caroline listened to the rhythmic click click click of the railcar wheels and tried to put her emotions into words. "It's just that this is all happening too fast. You and I don't know each other."

  "We know each other as well as some other married couples I know." He gave her hand a squeeze, winked at her and added, "I can guarantee you that we will set the sheets afire, and I doubt there are any other couples who've been married fifteen years who can say that. Well, except for maybe Trace and Jenny McBride. Those two still have some special sizzle going on between them."

  She rolled her eyes. "I think you are spending way too much time thinking about one subject."

  "Maybe if I got to do more than think about it I wouldn't be so focused."

  She ignored that. "We haven't spent enough time together. Once we do, we might not like each other at all. I have a temper, Logan."

  He gave her a droll look. "I did pick up on that little fact when you threw my medallion at me."

  "And you drank a lot that night. I don't care for drunkards, Logan Grey."

  "Hey, I had every reason to toss back the whiskey that night."

  "I won't argue that. However, for all I know it's an everyday occurrence for you."

  "It's not. I admit I had a bout of trouble with whiskey years ago, but nowadays, I'm damned near a teetotaler." Logan glanced over his shoulder. "Hollister. Driscoll. Have a question for you. How often would you say I overindulge in spirits?"

  Cade sat with his long legs outstretched on the seat, his back propped against the side of the railcar, his arms folded and his hat pulled low on his brow. After Logan asked his question, he thumbed the hat back and said, "You're kidding, right?"

  "No. My wife wants to know if I'm a drunkard. She noted that I drank quite a bit at the dinner party at Willow Hill."

  Holt rubbed his whisker-shadowed jaw with the palm of his hand, his blue eyes twinkling as he snickered. "Mrs. Grey, that night was a special circumstance. He needed some liquid courage. That's the most I've seen Lucky drink in years. See, ordinarily, the man can't hold his liquor."

  "He's good for two drinks, then he falls asleep," Cade agreed. "I figure all the excitement the other night kept him awake."

  Logan shrugged sheepishly. "I've taken a lot of ribbing for it over the years. You don't need to worry about me being a drunkard. Now see, you know
something more about me. What else do you want to know?"

  Caroline shook her head. "I don't know. I haven't thought about it."

  "Oh, c'mon now. Are you trying to say you've been married to me for fifteen years and you haven't spent some time wondering about me?"

  "It's different wondering about such things when you are sitting beside me."

  "You want me to go back to my other seat? That'll mean Cade and Holt will be able to hear our entire conversation, but if that's what you want..."

  Caroline didn't know what she wanted—except that she'd rather this all be happening without The Big Lie hovering between them. That was the real problem here. No matter what Logan said and no matter what ideas she'd be happy to consider, she knew that the situation was likely to change once Logan learned her true purpose.

  She shook her head. "I guess it wouldn't hurt for us to have a conversation—a private conversation. It'll help pass the time."

  "I can tell you anything and everything you'd want to know about me between here and Artesia. I'm not that interesting of a person."

  Now that was an out-and-out lie. Nevertheless, his casual attitude put her at ease and allowed Caroline to ask a few of the questions she had wondered about from time to time over the years. "All right, then, tell me this. I'd like to hear your version of how you came to be known as the Luckiest Man in Texas. I know how the Fort Worth Daily Democrat told the story, but I'm curious to hear it from your point of view."

  Logan's smile of satisfaction at her agreement dipped into a grimace at her request. "Shoot, Caroline. Can't you ask me something more exciting than that? Like maybe how I like my eggs cooked in the morning?"

  "No. I don't think so. You see, I believe there is something to it. Considering what I've asked you to do, I need to believe it."

  He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I asked for this, didn't I?"

  "Yes."

  After taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he said, "I think luck is like a snowball that starts rolling downhill. Once it gets going, it picks up more speed and more snow and that makes it harder to stop. That's why I haven't tried to discourage the talk, even though most of what is said about me is pure nonsense."