Though she wasn’t going to answer him, Sarah couldn’t stop the flush of self-consciousness migrating up her neck.
“Whoa. Look at Miss Westerveld,” Billy crowed, jumping to the right conclusion.
“We were talking about you...”
“I used to sneak downstairs to listen to him talking to you on the phone. His voice always got all mushy when he did.”
Sarah ignored him, trying to hold her ground emotionally. In Halifax it had been much easier to distill the grand emotions she felt with Logan to a simple high school crush. A sentimental memory. Her first serious, head-over-heels love, the one you always remember but always get over.
But since coming back here, since seeing Logan again, it was as if the six years away hadn’t even happened.
She didn’t want to remember a time when his voice on the phone had stolen her breath completely.
“So who broke it up?”
“I did. Just before Christmas. Six years ago.”
“Aha.” Billy drew out the two syllables, as if something finally clicked for him. “That’s why he was such a grouch.”
Curiosity trumped privacy. “What do you mean?”
“All of January that year he was miserable and snapping at us. I thought it was because Dad was sick, but thinking back I suspect it was thanks to you.”
She didn’t dare believe him. Logan had gone out with Marilee only days after she had broken up with him. “There were other things going on at the time. And he wasn’t dating me. He was dating my sister.”
Billy frowned at her. “What was her name?”
“Marilee.”
He shook his head. “Don’t remember him talking to her on the phone. Ever.”
Sarah waited a beat. Waited to extinguish the faint flicker of hope that she had read Marilee’s note wrong.
Marilee had been so clear. She was going to be with Logan.
Could she have gotten it wrong?
Sarah picked up her clipboard and fussed with the papers attached to it, trying to regain her equilibrium. “I want to get back to you. Your choices. Do you want to quit the team?”
“Are you kidding? Logan would shoot me.”
“In that case, you are still my responsibility. And this is the deal. You want to play? Then play. If you do your best and give your team and yourself the chance to play—and play to your full potential—in front of those college scouts, you will have one more choice, one more opportunity. So while you’re out there, I want you to give your full attention and energy to the game. If you don’t, you’re off the team.” Sarah let this settle, bracing herself for his response.
Billy pushed himself off the bench and tossed the ball into the ball bag ten feet away. “I gotta get my gym bag. If Logan comes, I’ll be in the locker room.”
* * *
Billy stuffed his shirt into his gym bag, followed by his shorts. But he wouldn’t look at his brother. “I’m going to stay at Derek’s house.”
Logan wondered what was going on. “I’d like you to come home with me, Billy.”
Billy slung his bag over his shoulder, then finally glanced at Logan. “Why?”
“Because I drove all the way here to pick you up and I would hate to think the trip was for nothing.” What was the big deal with this? Teenagers. Everything became a huge drama.
“I left a message on your cell phone,” Billy said.
“I didn’t get it.”
“Your problem. Not mine.”
Billy was about to turn away when Logan caught him by the shoulder. Billy glared at him but Logan didn’t let go.
“What is your problem?”
“Nothing.” Billy’s scowl deepened.
“What’s with the anger? Someone steal your lunch?”
“Where does your anger come from?”
“What you talking about?” Logan lowered his hand, puzzled at his brother’s question.
“For years I’ve had to listen to you and Mom go on and on about how awful Riverbend is. All the hypocrites here. What a rotten deal Dad got. Well, he did get a rotten deal. And maybe this ain’t the greatest place to live, but I like it here. My friends are here and I don’t care what happened in the past. I’m not as mad about it as you and Mom are. I like it here.”
Where did this tirade come from? “Of course you do. It’s home. But I think there are better places for you to live. Better opportunities elsewhere.”
“Meaning goin’ to college.”
“Yes.”
“So what’s the big deal about that?” Billy continued. “You didn’t go to college. You’re doin’ okay.”
“I wanted to go. In fact, I’d worked and saved up for two years. Six years ago I was applying to various colleges. But then, things happened. Dad got sick, and I didn’t get the chance you have sitting in front of you right now. If you get a scholarship and you go to college, your world will open up. You will have opportunities to get a job that doesn’t require you getting your back broken daily. One that doesn’t require you going begging to a bank so that you can keep operating.” Logan wished he could get this clear with his brother. Billy didn’t know what he was choosing. Riverbend was no friend to the Carletons.
Billy held Logan’s gaze and then he sighed. “Well, I want the chance to make my own decisions.”
“You’re too young to make your own decisions. You don’t know what I know about this town. It can suck you dry.”
“Miss Westerveld told me that there comes a point when I have to stand up for myself. When I have to know what I want. I think I came to that point.”
“Miss Westerveld? As in Sarah Westerveld?”
“Yeah. My coach. And I think she’s right.”
The same anger that Billy had just spoken of reappeared in Logan. What right did Sarah think she had interfering in their lives? And since when did she know what was right for his younger brother?
“I guess I’ll just have to have a talk with Miss Westerveld then.”
Billy shook his head. “No. Don’t. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that she had talked to me. Don’t tell her I told you.”
“Why is this such a big secret?”
Billy squirmed. “She...well...she told me that you don’t like her much. And that...well...you’d be ticked if you found out that she’s been telling me what to do.”
Sarah was right on the money there.
“That doesn’t matter. She has no right to interfere.”
Billy just nodded, then walked away. “Anyway, I’m going to Derek’s. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
* * *
Sarah dropped down on the bench and massaged the back of her neck, gaining a new appreciation for all her own coach had had to deal with. She remembered girls crying on the bench, and Mr. DeHaan sitting beside them patting them, awkwardly on the shoulder. Did all coaches deal with this kind of stuff?
She heard the squeak of the door and looked up, wondering what Billy had forgotten.
Her heart jumped as she saw Logan’s tall figure coming toward them across the empty gym. He wore a heavy canvas jacket today, still grimy from whatever he’d been working on. His work boots were undone, the tips of the laces ticking on the floor as he walked toward her, his hands in his pockets.
When she and Logan were dating, he had always been clean shaven. His clothes had always been neat and clean.
This Logan looked like he didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He hadn’t shaved and the whiskers shadowing his lean jaw gave him a vaguely menacing air. He reminded her of the Logan who used to intimidate her. He stopped in front of her, his hands on his hips. Saying nothing.
She looked away, gathering her belongings, giving him a heavy hint that she was just leaving. “What can I do for you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice non
chalant. Logan didn’t need to know about her chat with Billy.
Though she kept her eyes averted, it was as if every nerve was aware of him in her peripheral vision. Aware of what Billy had told her only moments before... Logan angry after she left... Logan never phoning Marilee.
Could she have gotten it all wrong?
But how? The contents of Marilee’s hastily scribbled note had been painfully clear. Or at least as clear as Marilee could make it: U may nt wnt Logan. I do. Im seeing him 2 nite.
“How is Billy doing? Really?”
Sarah shrugged as she chose her words. “He’s applying himself. Trying. That’s all I want from him.”
“That’s all?” Logan shifted his weight, putting his booted feet directly in Sarah’s line of vision.
“Yeah. For now, I think it’s important that Billy at least recognize my authority.”
“And how is that going to get him a scholarship?”
The angry tone of his voice pulled Sarah’s head up. “Every journey begins with a small step. Getting Billy to listen and respect me is the first step. It will actually enable him to learn more in the long run. Perfection and being all that he can be will just have to wait for a little later.”
Logan’s dark eyes held her gaze and Sarah forced herself not to look away. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her because, if that happened, she was pretty sure she was going to let Billy’s secret spill.
“So the next game, he’s going to be playing up to his game?”
Sarah nodded. “I think we’ve come to an agreement.”
“Really? Is that why he was talking about choices?”
“What do you mean?”
“I was just talking to him in the locker room. He was spouting some nonsense about choices. Nonsense he says you put in his head.” Logan shook his head, as if in disbelief.
Sarah had hoped that she would have at least had a few days before Billy spilled and Logan came after her for interfering. “It’s not nonsense—”
“You realize, of course, that choice is a luxury he doesn’t have,” Logan interrupted. “Not all of us have a daddy who is willing and able to pay for our education.”
“That’s a cheap shot, even coming from you, Logan Carleton.”
“It’s true.”
“You don’t know anything about my life.”
“Oh, c’mon, Sarah. Don’t tell me that Daddy didn’t cover his darling Sarah’s education expenses?”
“I wasn’t his darling Sarah and, yes, my dad paid for my first year, but when I got my first basketball scholarship, I paid my own way every year after that. Every penny of my education came from my own hard work. I washed dishes, I waited tables, I supersized and downsized. I did it all myself. Without one cent coming from Frank Westerveld. One cent.” She pressed her lips together, damming the true confessions spilling out.
Logan’s expression shifted, then he frowned. “Are you kidding me?”
“And why would I do that?” She held his gaze, her eyes steady and unwavering.
Logan’s frown mirrored his doubt. “But I thought...”
“You thought wrong.”
He rubbed his hand over his chin, making a rasping sound. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply...”
“There was no implication in what you said, Logan. It was pretty much a bald statement. Sarah Westerveld needs her daddy. Well, I didn’t. And I don’t.”
Logan let a slow smile creep across his well-shaped mouth. “You have changed, Sarah. I don’t think you would have called me out on that before.”
“And you’ve changed, too. The Logan I knew shaved more regularly and cared what he wore in public.”
“The Logan you knew didn’t have to work for a living.”
“You worked for your father for two years after high school.”
“Yeah—to save up for college.”
“And why didn’t you go?”
“My dad needed my help,” he said. “That lousy trial took a lot out of him. When your father cancelled his contract, that kind of finished him off.”
And they were back to square one. The evil that the Westerveld family had visited upon the Carleton family. “So. There you have it,” she said. “We’ve both changed.”
“Is that a good thing?” He had lowered his voice and for a heart-stopping moment, Sarah felt as if she had plunged back in time. Had returned to furtive meetings and stolen kisses in this self-same gymnasium.
“I hope so. I’m not the naive and innocent girl I once was.”
Logan gave a short laugh. “Too bad. I was very fond of that girl.”
“Obviously not fond enough.” She meant for the statement to come out as a light, humorous comment, breaking the heavy mood that had fallen over them. But in spite of the six years that had passed, her emotions leached into her voice.
“What do you mean?”
She forced a smile and fluttered her hand at him. “Nothing. Just trying to make a joke.”
Logan took another step nearer. “That didn’t sound like a joke, Sarah. What did you mean?”
He was close enough that she could smell the scent of oil on his coat and under that, the faintest whiff of cologne. He may not have shaved before he came here, but he had washed up and he had splashed on a bit of scent.
For her?
“What did you mean, Sarah?” The deep timbre of his voice, pitched just low enough to create a sense of intimacy, drew out old memories and the words she had tried to cover up.
She tried to lighten the atmosphere with a laugh, but it came out forced. “I was just talking about Marilee. You know.”
“No. I don’t.”
“She was with you...”
Sarah pressed her lips together, frustrated with the break in her voice. She had been doing so well up until then, skating the fine line of the understanding ex-girlfriend. Trying to put the past in the past.
For, to talk about Logan and Marilee together meant talking about the night Marilee died. And to cry in front of Logan was to invite an intimacy she couldn’t allow to happen.
She had to keep her distance. Keep her focus. She wasn’t staying here.
“With me when?”
Just breathe. Slowly. You’ll be okay.
“That night...that night...” Why couldn’t she finish the sentence? Why was her voice choking up like that?
“The night she died?” Logan finally asked.
Sarah took a steadying breath and nodded, her focus on the clipboard she clung to like a shield.
He took a step closer, closing the sentence between them. “She wasn’t with me, Sarah.”
Chapter Eight
Sarah frowned and looked up at him as his words settled into her mind, one syllable at a time. “What do you mean?”
Then, to her utter surprise, Logan laid his hand on her shoulder. “She wasn’t with me.”
“But, I thought...” Sarah’s breath left her.
Logan tightened his hand, his fingers warm on her shoulder. “And I never had a chance to tell you how sorry I was,” he continued. “About Marilee.”
Sarah shook her head, trying to arrange the confusion of thoughts ricocheting around her mind.
“But you weren’t hanging out with her that night?”
“No. Why do you keep asking me that?”
Sarah kept her lips pressed tight, willing the
tears that pricked her eyes to stay back, willing her own silly heart not to waver at the warmth of
Logan’s hand.
He could always raise such a mixture of emotions in her, she thought. Fear and anticipation. Tranquility and anxiety.
Now she struggled between the memory of her sister’s death and what Logan was telling her. Had she had everything wrong all t
his time?
“She wrote a note. The night of the accident. She said if I didn’t want you, she did. She said she was going to see you.” Sarah’s throat felt thick with suppressed tears and her eyes were hot. Logan’s face shimmered, but she was afraid to move her head. Afraid the tears hovering in her eyes would spill over and then more would come. She didn’t want Logan to see her vulnerable.
“Sarah, I have no clue what she told you, or wrote you. We weren’t together. I wasn’t even at the party she went to. Was supposed to be, but decided not to go at the last minute.”
Sarah pressed her hands against her face, her cheeks hot with confusing emotions old and new.
Marilee hadn’t been with Logan. All these years and she’d had it all wrong. How could she have made such a huge mistake? What had Marilee meant by the note then? Petty one-upmanship?
She took in a slow, trembling breath, struggling with her confusion and her emotions and as she closed her eyes, she felt the warm slide of tears down her cheek.
Then she felt Logan’s thumb gently wiping them away.
“I’m sorry, Sarah.”
He rested his hand on her shoulder again, his fingers gently stroking her neck, his calluses catching on the hair at the nape.
She leaned toward him, yearning for the comfort she used to find in Logan’s arms.
She’d borne the pain of her sister’s death intertwined with what she saw as her sister and Logan’s disloyalty. She had never had a pure moment of grief for Marilee.
Right now she wanted Logan to help her through this. She wanted him to hold her. Like he used to. Wanted to feel his arms around her.
Just in time she caught herself.
Logan was merely feeling sorry for her. Simple pity for the loss of a girl they’d both known. Too much time had elapsed between then and now. She and Logan were two different people. She couldn’t go back and neither could he.
With a sigh, she palmed away the rest of the tears, drawing back.
“I’m glad you told me,” she said, turning away from him to dig through her purse. She was pretty sure she had a tissue. When she found it, she blew her nose and wiped away the rest of the tears. “I’m glad that’s cleared up.”
A Family-Style Christmas and Yuletide Homecoming Page 25