He dug out his medicine and took a dose.
“I don’t know why I bother,” he told Trusty. “It doesn’t make me any better, but maybe it’ll help me live a little longer.” His laugh was bitter. “Live longer so I can regret I missed the chance to marry a woman like Sibyl Spencer. I haven’t told you about Sibyl, have I?”
Fortunately Trusty wasn’t able to tell him he’d talked about little else.
“She’s beautiful. I know a man of character wouldn’t be overawed by a woman’s looks, but he would if he saw Sibyl. If there’s such a thing as a perfect woman, it’s Sibyl. I would describe her physical attributes, but I don’t want to cause you to blush. Let’s just say they’re enough to cause a man to get down on his knees and thank God for making him a man. Yet she dresses modestly and behaves as though she’s an ordinary woman. I don’t think she has any mirrors in her house. Do you think we should buy her one?”
Trusty shook his head to rid himself of a mosquito.
“You’re right. She’s not the kind of woman to preen in front of a mirror or spend time worrying about whether others think she’s attractive. She’s more concerned with her daughter, the fate of the bank and its employees, and her family. Sometimes I think she worries about me, too.” He looked at the dog. “You probably think I’m fooling myself.”
Trusty didn’t move a muscle.
“Okay, don’t say anything, but I can guess what you’re thinking. Who’d spend even five minutes worrying about a man who spoke as little as possible, avoided people when he could, kept getting sick, and who looked scary enough to give people nightmares? But that’s exactly the kind of thing Sibyl would do. Sometimes I swear she looks right past my face to what she thinks she sees inside. Don’t ask me what she sees that makes her worry about me. I never thought there was anything about me to attract a woman but looks and money. When I lost one and gave up the other, I expected to die forgotten and alone. That’s part of why I came west. I never really thought I’d find my brothers. I’d even decided I wouldn’t look for them. Instead, I believe I’ve found both brothers and a woman I could love. My father used to say, What one hand gives, the other can take away. Doesn’t seem fair, does it? Is that what happened to you? Did you start out with someone who loved you and end up with someone who’d rather kick you than give you a scratch?”
Trusty wiggled forward until he could lick Logan’s hand. It brought tears to Logan’s eyes.
“If we ever run across the son of a bitch, I hope you rip his heart out. Now I’m through feeling sorry for myself. It doesn’t do any good, and I have to go to work tomorrow and act like nothing’s wrong. We’ll keep this between the two of us, okay? People in Cactus Corner are really nice. They’ll be concerned and ask if there’s anything they can do, but they’ll be relieved when I say thank you, but I’m fine. There’s no point in saying anything else. There’s nothing anybody can do.”
Logan crawled into his tent and lay down on top of his sleeping bag. The evening temperature was perfect for sleeping, not too hot and not too cold. He’d hardly gotten settled when Trusty crawled into the tent and lay down beside him.
“You’re hot,” Logan complained. “Why don’t you sleep outside? That way you could watch for bears.”
Trusty shifted his body so he could be a little closer to Logan.
Logan reached over and put his hand on the dog’s back. Then with a smile no one would ever see, he drifted off to sleep.
* * *
“That horse bucked and jumped every which way he could,” Logan said to his attentive audience. “Squealing like somebody was taking his hide off a piece at a time, he went to bucking, spinning, fishtailing—”
“What’s fishtailing?” Kitty asked.
“It’s sorta like his head’s going in one direction, and his rear is going another.”
“How can a horse do that?”
“Who cares?” Peter complained. “Did your pa fall off?”
“No,” Logan said.
“Did he get away from those bandits?” Little Abe asked.
“He might not have,” Logan told him, “but all that ruckus—especially the squealing—got the other horses so riled up the bandits couldn’t catch them. He was able to run off the horses so the bandits couldn’t follow him. He caught a couple, which he sold later.”
“My pa could do that,” Peter said. “He’s got this big old horse he won’t let anybody ride, but I bet I could.”
“You come near that horse, Peter Blaine, and Pa will take your hide off an inch at a time,” Esther warned her brother.
“I’m not going to mess with that old horse, but I could ride him,” Peter insisted. “Now come on. Ma said if we were late for lunch, we’d have to stay inside all afternoon. I’m not staying cooped up inside for nobody.”
Peter ran off. Esther and Little Abe followed, but Kitty stayed behind. “Did your father really ride that horse?”
Logan tried not to smile. “Do you think I make up stories?”
“I don’t know. I think Uncle Colby can do all those things, but Aunt Naomi says there’s nobody else as good as Uncle Colby in the whole world.”
“I’m sure my pa wasn’t as good as your Uncle Colby, but he did ride that horse, and he did capture two of the bandits’ horses, which he sold later.”
“I suppose it’s okay to take bandits’ horses. They’re not nice people. They killed my father.” A furrowed brow indicated Kitty wasn’t entirely sure of herself.
“It’s good to take horses away from bandits,” Logan said. “That stops them from doing bad things to people.”
“I wish somebody had taken the horses from the bandits who killed my father.”
Logan had never seen any sign that Kitty missed her father. The other children all called their fathers Pa, but Kitty always said my father. From the things Cassie said—and she said a great deal—Norman hadn’t loved anyone but himself. Logan didn’t understand how any father could not love Kitty. She was as pretty as a picture, and as sweet as could be. She seemed shyer than the other children, but she had backbone. Not even Peter could run over her.
“You’d better catch up with the others,” Logan said. “I don’t want you to be late for lunch.”
“I don’t mind staying inside. If I offer to play with baby Annabelle, Aunt Naomi will read to me. Annabelle will cry if Jonathan doesn’t want to play with her. She was named for Aunt Naomi’s mother.”
Another name he didn’t know. Logan wondered what it would have been like to live in a village where people knew everyone who’d lived there during the last hundred years. “Still, you’d better hurry. Your lunch will be cold.”
“Your lunch was cold,” she said. “Wasn’t it good?”
“It was fine, but it doesn’t matter what an old man like me eats. You’re young. You need lots of good, warm food so you’ll grow up big and strong.”
“Will it make me grow up like Peter?”
Logan chuckled. “No. You’ll grow up to be just like your mother. Now run away. I have to go back to work.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be waiting here as usual.”
Kitty turned to go, but instead of walking or running, she skipped. There was something about skipping that made it seem like the child hadn’t a care in the world. Logan had never felt like that. He wondered if he ever could.
“I’ve been wondering what you did when you disappeared down this ravine. Now I know.”
Seven
The sound of an unexpected voice caused Logan to spin around. Sibyl had stepped from behind one of the large boulders some ancient flood had washed down from the Rim above. He flushed from embarrassment.
“Peter and Esther like my stories,” Logan explained. “Their father doesn’t like to talk about his experiences, so they get to imagine all the things he’s done by listening to me.”
“What about Kitty? Does she also crave excitement?”
Logan wasn’t sure how to answer. “She listens, but I think she’s more concerned about my health. She studies me very carefully each day.”
Sibyl’s smile slid away. “She’s worried about you just like the rest of us. She’s afraid you’re going to die.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her I hoped not because you’re a very nice man, and we’re all very fond of you.”
Fond seemed such a miserably insignificant word when he wanted something much stronger. He knew better than to hope, but knowing better couldn’t stop him wanting. It was a cruel trick of fate that something he’d never missed had become the one thing he wanted most.
“You shouldn’t waste your time on me. One of these mornings, I won’t show up at the bank because I’ll be gone.”
Sibyl moved closer. “I hope not before saying good-bye. We’ll miss you.”
She stood in the dappled shade of a towering cottonwood. Its rustling leaves caused light and shadow to play across her face, making it difficult to see her expression. He wanted to look away but couldn’t. He was fearful of what he would see—or what he wouldn’t.
“I was never going to be here long. If I hadn’t entered the bank when I did, you’d never have known I existed.”
“That doesn’t matter now.”
“Why?”
“Because I do know you exist. So does Kitty. And Cassie. And Horace. And half the children in town.”
“They’ll forget me soon enough.” He’d never worried that people might not remember him, so why should it bother him now?
“We never forget people we come to know and like, even when they disappear from our lives. They become part of who we are, what our lives have been.”
Logan didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s sense of loss, even if it was brief and painless. If this was how Sibyl felt after such a brief acquaintance, it was all the more reason not to reveal himself to his brothers. Still, he liked the idea that someone would remember him if only briefly. Maybe it was only natural to want to leave some trace of having been on this earth. Bridgette would remember him, but it would be with anger. Peter would remember his stories. Kitty would remember his illness. Trusty would remember him because he fed him, but how would Sibyl remember him?
“I will remember you because you saved my life,” Sibyl reminded him. “Every mother with a child in the street the other day will remember you, too.”
“It was Cassie who—”
Sibyl came closer. “You can object all you want, but we know what we saw. No one has been louder in declaring you a hero than Cassie.”
“I’m not a hero!” He hadn’t meant to shout. “It’s not heroic to do what any other person who was standing where I was would have done.”
“I couldn’t have done it. Half the men in this town can’t run fast enough or aren’t strong enough. The fact that you could do both while being so sick is amazing. You’ll have our eternal gratitude whether you want it or not.”
Logan felt some of the steam go out of his anger. “I don’t know how I did it. I just know I couldn’t let anything happen to those children.”
“That’s because you love them.”
“I don’t…I can’t—” He couldn’t think of anything to say. Did he love those children? Could he love anyone after such a short acquaintance? Did he even know what love was? He’d always thought he loved his father, but might it have been gratitude and admiration instead?
“You can’t convince me you don’t love those children,” Sibyl said, “not after I saw the way you looked at them.”
“I’ve never been around children,” Logan said. “I didn’t know what to do with them. They asked too many questions. That’s why I started telling them stories. Kitty wanted to take me to the doctor that first day.” He smiled at the memory. “She offered to go with me so I wouldn’t get lost.”
“She worries about you. We all do.”
“Don’t. Everything that can be done for me is being done.” He gathered up the remainder of his lunch. “It’s time I went back to work.”
Sibyl didn’t move. “Why do you work so hard? It’s not like I’m paying you or that you’re in danger of losing your job.”
“I like having something to do. Working in a bank is something I’ve never done. I find it interesting.”
“What have you done?”
“Nothing important. I worked for my father.”
“What kind of work?”
“Anything he needed done.”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“Why do you want to know? I’ll vanish as suddenly as I appeared. In a couple of years you’ll hardly remember I was here.”
“There are reasons why that will never happen, but there’s no need to repeat them. I didn’t follow you just to spy on you. I have a request for a rather large loan. I’d like your opinion on what to do about it.”
“You don’t need my opinion.”
“Maybe not, but I would like it. You may find it difficult to accept, but I value your opinion. You have a greater knowledge of the world of finance than I do. I want to succeed on my own, but I don’t want to jeopardize mine and Kitty’s futures.”
“Is it that big?”
“No, but it’s large enough that I feel like it is.”
Logan couldn’t help but feel sorry for Sibyl. After spending her whole life dealing with sums that rarely exceeded ten dollars, she was now faced with requests for loans that ran to the tens of thousands of dollars. That would be enough to cause any normal person to panic. “I’ll help you as much as I can, but the final decision will have to be yours.”
Sibyl seemed to relax. “I know that. I know nothing about the business this loan is for. Despite your attempts to claim otherwise, I think you do.”
It was getting harder and harder to keep his distance from Sibyl. There were so many things he wanted her to know. That he thought she was the most beautiful, admirable, and courageous woman he’d ever met. That she shouldn’t be afraid of freedom, that rather she should embrace it. That she should never invest all her energy in her work, or she would end up looking back on a life full of barren years. That she should hold close to family and friends because freedom from connection to others was a form of slow death.
You just didn’t know it until it was too late.
He wanted to tell her how much he wanted to reach out to his brothers, how much he’d missed by not having children, how he’d been given a glimpse of what life could mean just as his own was drawing to a close. He wanted to tell her that he thought he might love her, something he’d never said to another human being, not even his father.
But he would say none of that. He didn’t have the right.
“I’ll do what I can, but your family probably knows more about the man’s business than I will.”
“I’ll talk with them, but I still want to go over it with you. I’ll walk back with you unless you’re afraid of being seen with a widow.”
He wondered if she’d sensed his slight hesitation. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”
Sibyl’s gaze softened. “I’m proud to be seen with you. I doubt there’s a finer man in all of Cactus Corner.”
If he’d met Sibyl earlier in his life, he might have had a chance of becoming the man she thought him to be. He wasn’t a hero, and he wasn’t fearless. He simply wasn’t afraid of death.
* * *
“Whose idea was it to open a teller’s window at Camp Verde?” Naomi asked.
“Logan’s,” Sibyl replied. “You didn’t think I’d come up with an idea like that, did you?”
“Why not?”
“Because I was so afraid of being responsible for the bank, I couldn’t think. How would you feel if you were faced w
ith a business you knew nothing about?”
“I’d run straight to Colby,” Naomi confessed with a laugh. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because he wasn’t here. Besides, he’s the biggest investor in your bank.”
“Community Bank isn’t our bank.”
“You’re the biggest investor, and your father and brother run it. It’s your bank.”
“You still could have asked any one of us. We’d have been glad to help.”
Sibyl couldn’t describe the tangle of emotions or explain the complex feelings that had kept her from asking anyone for help.
“By the time I was ready to tackle the job, Logan was there to help. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
“For a man who materialized out of nowhere, he certainly has made a strong impression on this town. I wish we knew more about him.”
“I do, too, but he seems determined to protect his past.”
“Doesn’t that make you nervous?”
Sibyl’s laugh sounded nervous, even to her. “It probably should, but it doesn’t. Every time I tell myself I must be crazy, I remember that Cassie trusts him as well. I know all of us sometimes wonder if Cassie isn’t a little bit crazy, but her instincts are never wrong. Besides, all the children adore him. Kitty keeps asking me if he’s going to die.”
“I wish he’d see Papa.”
“I do, too, but he says all that can be done is being done.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he has some medicine up at that camp.”
“From what I can tell, he’s not getting any better.”
“No. He’s getting worse.”
“Does he have any family? Who are we to notify if he dies?”
“I don’t know, but he keeps saying he won’t be here long. I get the feeling he’ll leave before that happens.”
“Where will he go? Who’ll take care of him?”
“I don’t know that anybody will.”
“Well, we can’t let that happen. He may be a stranger, but this town owes him a debt of gratitude. We won’t let him die alone. You’ve got to convince him to stay with us.”
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