“How could I have been so lucky to find someone to care as much as you and Kitty?”
“We wouldn’t care so much if you weren’t so wonderful.”
The sincerity in her voice was his undoing. Any shred of restraint vanished. Before he knew what he was doing, his arms were around Sibyl, and he was kissing her with an ardor all the more intense for having been denied so long. When he realized she was responding just as eagerly, it was nearly too much. Still, he fought to keep control. It almost wouldn’t matter if he dropped dead afterward. He would have had this one moment of indescribable happiness.
Finally, Sibyl broke the kiss. “You’ve got to take better care of yourself. You may not care what happens to you, but I care very much. Now before I say something I can’t retract, I’m going back inside.” She kissed him again—quickly this time—then turned and almost ran back around the corner of the house.
Logan was unable to move for several moments. His life had taken a turn so abrupt that it had thrown him off balance. Did Sibyl love him as much as he loved her? It seemed impossible that could be true. Still, she had responded to his kiss and kissed him again. Surely she wouldn’t have done that out of mere sympathy. The euphoria started to wear off, leaving him feeling weak and shaken. Needing to sit for a few minutes, he walked over to the steps and sank down. Trusty approached and whined softly.
“I’m not going to fade out on you yet,” he told the dog. “In fact, once I get my strength back, I’m going to do everything I can to live. I might even see that doctor. I never knew holding a woman in my arms could make me feel like I’ve been half asleep for my whole life.” So many possibilities of what life could be like flooded his mind that he didn’t hear the door open behind him.
“Are you okay? I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to let you ride home alone.”
Logan turned to see Jared coming down the steps toward him. “I’m fine, really. I just had something I needed to think about, and I didn’t want to be on a horse when I did it.”
“That’s when I do some of my best thinking,” Jared said.
“Too many distractions. I like to sit still and close my eyes.”
“I left you just minutes ago. There’s nobody here but your horse and your dog. How could anything so important have happened?”
“It’s just something that occurred to me unexpectedly.”
Jared sat down on the step next to him. “I hope it’s not about your health. I’m sure Dr. Kessling could find a cure if you’d just give him a chance.”
“I’m thinking about doing just that.”
“Good. I know Sibyl thinks a lot of you, but you’re important to all of us.”
It was all Logan could do not to blurt their connection. “Why? I’m just a stranger who wandered into town a few weeks ago.”
Jared chuckled. “After all you’ve done, you’re not just a stranger.” He sobered. “There’s something different about you. I don’t know what it is, but I feel there’s a connection between us, and not just because we have the same last name. I have from the beginning. It’s almost like you’re part of our family.” Jared got to his feet. “Now I’ve talked enough nonsense for one evening. Give me a few minutes to saddle a horse, and I’ll ride with you.”
“There’s no need. I’m perfectly fine. My horse knows the way, and Trusty will make sure nothing attacks me.”
Jared shook his head. “It’s almost like you’re related to us. You’re just as stubborn as Colby. You’d better arrive home safely. If anything were to happen to you, Sibyl would never forgive me.”
Logan appreciated Jared’s concern, but he wished he wouldn’t bother about him. His worry made it hard to keep from telling Jared they were brothers. The odds against finding both Jared and Colby had been so great it was hard to believe he hadn’t made a mistake somehow. But as much as he was tempted, he couldn’t. He would stay as long as he could, spend as much time with them as he could manage, but he would leave before he died. Both men had worked hard for their happiness. He would not be responsible for bringing sadness into their lives.
But his thoughts didn’t stay dark. As he thought back over the evening, he remembered some of the stories they’d told, and he found himself laughing at them again. How was it that he and his father had never laughed like that? Why should this be another aspect of life he’d missed? His life had been successful and rewarding, but had it been fun? He’d thought success itself was sufficient reward, but now he wasn’t sure. When he looked back, he couldn’t remember he and his father ever doing anything just for fun. Everything had been about work. He’d always enjoyed what he did, never thought he might be missing out on anything, until now. As far back as he could remember, life had been a serious matter.
In the beginning, he was afraid his new father wouldn’t be proud of him, might even regret having adopted him. He’d done everything he could to make sure that wouldn’t happen. He didn’t know when he’d started to be comfortable, probably not until he was nearly twenty, when he started to feel his contribution was equal to his father’s. Building the business had been hard, had taken all their energy, and required all their attention. Trips to Santa Fe had been long and dangerous. There always seemed to be a challenge in front of them, another obstacle to overcome. He believed his father had come to love him—he certainly loved Samuel Lowe—but their love had lacked the joy, the sheer fun, he’d experienced this evening. He’d spent his free time shooting at targets. His father had spent too much time arguing with his brother.
Had he known love could include joy? Until now, he’d thought of it as a duty, a responsibility, a loyalty—maybe even a return for what he’d been given. It had been his father’s duty to be responsible for his brother and niece. His engagement to Bridgette showed his loyalty to the family that had adopted him—as well as a return for what he’d been given. It had seemed so ordinary then, so natural. Why did it seem so unnatural now?
Because of Sibyl. Because of the kiss. He’d never come close to feeling this way about any woman. Why did it have to happen when he had so little time left? It seemed like an unusually cruel twist of fate.
“Be glad you’re not a man,” he said to Trusty, who trotted alongside his horse. “All you need to be happy is a full stomach, a dry bed, and someone to snuggle up to at night.” He laughed at his own words. “Who am I kidding? That’s about all a man needs, too.”
About all. That was the crux. It was that little bit more that made the difference.
* * *
“You’re looking mighty chipper this morning,” Cassie said when Logan entered the bank. “It must have been a really good party.”
“It wasn’t a party,” he explained. “Just dinner.”
“Whatever it was, it agreed with you.”
It had agreed with him so well he’d gone straight to bed without taking his medicine. As a precaution, he’d taken a double dose this morning. He felt better than he had in a long time. He wanted to make it last as long as possible. He felt so good he was even reconsidering his decision to leave without telling Colby and Jared that they were brothers. Maybe he was getting better. Maybe the clean air, clear water, and plenty of rest was making a difference.
But that wasn’t the only change. For the first time, he had begun to feel a connection with people. He’d thought he been connected before, even with Bridgette and his uncle, but he’d come to realize he was only going through the motions. He cared—or thought he cared—because he was supposed to, because they were his father’s family. He cared about the people who worked for him because that was something else he was expected to do. He asked about their children, about their health, but had he really been interested? Did he remember their answers a day or a week later?
He could remember every conversation he’d had with Sibyl. He replayed them on his rides to and from town. They even invaded his dreams. He cared about Kitty, Peter, Esther, and Litt
le Abe. He worried Cassie would never fall in love again, wondered if Horace was completely happy working in the bank. He absorbed every detail he could about Jared and Colby. He wanted to feel a part of their lives, even if only from a distance. It was as though someone had turned a mirror around, and he saw everything in ways he’d never imagined. For too long he’d been going through the motions, doing what was expected, feeling what was expected. It had taken a life-threatening illness to open his eyes. He hoped it wasn’t too late.
“Mrs. Spencer is driving in from her cousin’s ranch this morning,” he told Cassie. “I don’t know when she’ll arrive.”
Cassie laughed. “She’s already here. She said she hoped you would be coming in late.” Cassie tilted her head, her curiosity easy to see. “It seems the evening agreed with both of you. What did Laurie cook? Did she have any leftovers?”
Logan knew Cassie had something very different from food in mind, but he wasn’t going to satisfy her curiosity. His love for Sibyl would remain unspoken. It was a relief to admit the nature of his feelings to himself. Now he was free to let his feelings go in any direction they wanted. He could feel, hope, dream—as long as he never put his feelings into words.
“Last night’s dinner was excellent, but I imagine Jared’s cowhands will have eaten every last scrap for this morning’s breakfast. Steve could probably have eaten it all himself.”
“He’s a nice boy,” Cassie said. “He’s got his eye on Opal Sumner, but they’re both too young to be doing much more than making eyes at each other.”
About all Logan knew of Haskel Sumner’s family was that his oldest daughter, Amber, had married Horace’s brother Cato. He wondered how young people went about making eyes at each other. At seventeen he’d been too busy to think about girls. Besides, being on the Santa Fe Trail a couple times a year didn’t give him much opportunity.
“Did you get to see Laurie’s new baby?” Cassie asked. “He’s beautiful.”
“Laurie had fed him and put him to bed before I got there, but Kitty brought Jere in to see us. He looks like both his parents.”
“I’d like another baby,” Cassie said, “but I need to find a husband first. Do you know anybody you could suggest?”
Logan knew she was teasing him, but it made him uncomfortable. “A lovely young woman like you must have lots of suitors.”
Cassie frowned. “Not the kind I’m looking for.” She broke into a sexy smile and winked at him. “Now if you were to ask me to marry you, I’d jump at the chance.”
Logan thought the sudden queasiness that came over him was due to Cassie’s unexpected comment. No beautiful young woman could be romantically interested in him, so he couldn’t understand why her teasing should affect him so. He started to say something, but a dizzy spell caused him to lose the thought. He was about to be very sick.
Eleven
Sibyl had just reached for her coffee when she heard Cassie scream for help. Leaping to her feet, Sibyl rushed from her office. The sight that met her eyes sent her heart into her throat. Logan lay on the floor unmoving. Cassie was kneeling beside him.
“What happened?” Sibyl asked.
“I don’t know,” Cassie said. “We were talking. He was in good spirits. Next minute he seemed to have some kind of seizure, then he just fell down. I didn’t know what to do,” she wailed. “Horace has gone for the doctor.”
Sibyl knelt next to Logan. He had lost all color, but his heartbeat was strong. Too strong. It was tumultuous. Sibyl could see it pulsing through the veins on his neck. Was he having a heart attack? A stroke? She wished the doctor would get here soon. She felt so helpless. A racking spasm gripped Logan. He came to his knees, a look of desperation on his face.
“Uh-oh.” Cassie scrambled to her feet, ran to her desk, emptied a bowl of candy she kept to give children and new customers, and ran back just in time to place it on the floor next to Logan. He pulled it toward him and proceeded to empty his stomach. The paroxysms shook his body so violently Sibyl almost expected him to expire right in front of her. She was weak with relief when the spasms finally stopped. She moved closer to Logan and put his head in her lap.
“No,” he managed to say, but his resistance was weak.
“The doctor will be here soon,” she told him. She took the handkerchief from her pocket and wiped his mouth.
“You shouldn’t do this.” He tried to pull away, but he didn’t have the strength. He was exhausted, his brow covered with perspiration.
“Lie still.” Cassie brought her a basin of water. Using Cassie’s handkerchief, she bathed his forehead. He tried to push her hand away, but Cassie gripped his hands and pushed them down to his side. He groaned, and his resistance ebbed.
Horace burst through the bank doors. “The doctor is on his way,” he told them between gasps for breath. “There are people outside waiting to get in. What should I tell them?”
Sibyl didn’t look up. “Tell them the bank will open an hour later than usual. Make sure the doors are locked. Cassie can open them for the doctor. I want you to find Colby. I need him to move Logan to my house.”
“I can go back to my camp,” Logan protested. “I’ll be all right after a while.”
“You’re too intelligent to make such a ridiculous statement,” Sibyl told him. “You haven’t been all right from the moment you arrived. You are a very sick man. Are you going to depend on your dog to take care of you?” She didn’t wait for an answer but turned back to Horace. “If you can’t find Colby, tell Naomi. She’ll know who to get. And tell her I intend to put Logan in Norman’s bedroom.”
“I can’t put you out of your own bed,” Logan said.
“You won’t. I haven’t slept in that room since Norman died.”
A loud rattling of the door caught her attention. “See if that’s the doctor,” she told Horace. Moments later Dr. Kessling came bustling in, muttering about people craning their necks to get a glimpse of what didn’t concern them.
“I wish you’d come to see me before now,” he said to Logan. “Then I might have some idea of what’s wrong with you.”
“I’m dying. That’s all you need to know.”
“Well, you’re not dead yet, so let’s see what I can do to put that off a while longer. That is, of course, if you’re not set upon dying. If you are, just say so, and I’ll get back to my breakfast. I hate cold coffee.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Sibyl said.
“I’m not being absurd. I’m just irritated. This man’s been walking about for weeks looking like his next breath might be his last, and he has refused all entreaties to get himself looked at. Now he collapses, and he expects a miracle cure.”
“I don’t expect a cure,” Logan told him. “I was treated by a doctor with a reputation for being able to identify any disease and formulate a cure. After several months, he told me my case was hopeless. I have only a few months to live.”
The words hit Sibyl like a physical blow. She had known Logan was sick, but she’d assumed he would get well. He said he was taking the medicine his doctor had prescribed. He had even been looking and acting better. He’d had the strength to catch runaway horses, the steadiness of hand to win the shooting contest, and the energy to help her win the three-legged race. How could she have believed a man who could do all of that was facing death? He had to be mistaken. Dr. Kessling would find out what was wrong. He wasn’t a fancy Chicago specialist, but he was a fine doctor.
“Well, there’s still hope,” Dr. Kessling said. “What I have to do now is get you to a bed where you can get some rest. After that, I’ll see about getting a little food in you. Maybe a clear broth. If you can keep that down, I’d say there’s hope for you yet.”
“It’s a waste of your time,” Logan said.
“Well, it’s my time, so I guess I can waste it any way I want.”
Sibyl had always admired Dr. Kessling—he was the only
doctor she’d ever known—but she was doubly grateful he refused to be put off by Logan’s pessimism. It wasn’t like Logan wanted to die. It was more like he’d given up hope. That was something Sibyl couldn’t understand. Several times her life had taken a tragic turn, but she’d never given up hope that she would someday find happiness for herself and her daughter. That was the only way she could face each day.
“How long have you been like this?” the doctor asked Logan.
“How do you mean like this?” Logan asked. “Being sick, passing out, or having my face look like it’s about to explode?”
“Any or all of the above,” the doctor replied.
Logan struggled to sit up. Sibyl pressed him down until his head rested in her lap again.
“You can get up when Colby gets here,” she told him.
“I can sit up now.”
“But you don’t have to.”
“Don’t fight her,” the doctor advised. “I’ve learned never to argue with a woman unless absolutely necessary. And then you should think twice before doing it.”
“You argue with Naomi,” Cassie said. “I’ve heard you.”
“I haven’t in years. And even then, it didn’t do much good. But don’t distract me. I want to hear what this man has to say.”
“It started at least six months ago,” Logan said. “Sometimes, I think it had begun even before that, but it was hard to tell.”
“Why?”
“At first I was just more tired than usual. I’m thirty-five. I ought to be in the prime of my life. I’d always been able to outwork any man in our company. I was stronger and had more stamina. The stamina was the first to go. My strength went next. I thought I was just working too hard. My father had died, and I was trying to do the work of two men. Occasionally, I would forget something I’d planned to do or when I was supposed to be somewhere, but I credited that to a lack of sleep. I used the same excuse when I started forgetting things I considered minor details.”
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