The Loner

by Geralyn Dawson

  Black Shadow Canyon. Its very name gave him the sweats. Though he tried hard to hide it from Caroline, Logan was worried sick about their son. He knew that hellhole and the villains who called it home. Killers without conscience. Men who thought nothing of murder, rape and rampage. Imagining his boy in the midst of their evil scared Logan to the bone and made him curse every hour of this delay.

  He reached for a curl of Caroline's sunburst-colored hair and twirled it around his index finger. His son. His wife. These new responsibilities weighed upon his soul. Talk about firsts. This was the first time he'd woken up with a woman, thinking about more than his own wants and desires. It changed a man. For the better. Despite all the worries and concerns, it filled an empty spot inside him he hadn't even known existed.

  I'II find him, Caro. If it's the last thing I do, I'll bring our boy home to you.

  With that, he decided to let her sleep. They had another hard day of travel before them, and the more rest she had ahead of it, the better. He placed a gentle kiss against her bare shoulder, then eased from the bed. Ten minutes later, washed and dressed and ready to face the rigors of the day, he exited the hotel.

  It was a fine spring morning, and Parkerville bustled with activity even at the early hour. Logan tipped his hat to a woman who'd assisted Caroline the night before, then detoured toward the church where volunteers were gathering for the trip to the spot of the train wreck. He approached a slim, balding man who carried a clipboard and checked items off a list as they were loaded into a wagon. "How's it going, Reverend Marshall?"

  "Good. We'll be ready to pull out in twenty minutes or so, I suspect."

  "Any word from the railroad?"

  "Yes, and it's not good. That storm threw off a half dozen or more twisters yesterday and it tore up chunks of track over a wide area. What's good for your group is that track to the east of your accident was easily repaired. A crew out of Fort Worth should be reaching them soon. Of course, our first wagonload will have arrived by now, and this next load of supplies should set everybody up just fine until we can get folks out of there and on their way."

  The news lifted Logan's spirits and he continued toward the telegraph office with lighter steps.

  The bells of a door chime announced his presence when he opened the door and stepped inside. The office was a single room divided by a wooden railing with two desks behind the railing, and a table and chairs where customers could sit and compose their messages.

  The operator sat behind the railing at his desk munching on crisp bacon while he pored over the morning newspaper. "We don't open until eight," he said without looking up. "A man has the right to have his breakfast in peace."

  "I can't argue with that." Logan took a bill from his wallet, leaned over the railing and tossed it onto the table. "Although I am a man who appreciates extra service."

  "Oh, Mr. Grey." The operator swallowed his bacon, snatched the bill and stood. "I thought you were another one of the fairgoers. Folks are driving me crazy because I'm head livestock judge and there was a problem with the pig panel yesterday."

  "Sorry to hear that. Do you have anything for me?"

  "Sure do. A whole stack. My overnight help had them ready when I came in this morning. He was worried that we didn't deliver them, but I told him you'd said you and the missus needed your sleep." He grabbed a pile of envelopes off his desk and handed them over. "He put 'em all in individual envelopes for you."

  "Thanks, I appreciate it." Logan flipped through the envelopes, noting the senders. Dair. The doctor. His banker. Tom Addison. Wilhemina Peters. He opened the doctor's telegram first.

  Excellent. Dr. Daggett promised to make Cade his number one priority.

  It took Logan about ten minutes to read and respond to all his messages. He settled his bill, then turned to leave when the operator said, "Oh, I almost forgot. Your wife has a reply waiting, too. Do you want to take it to her?"

  A telegram? Logan's sense of foreboding leaped to life. "Caroline sent a telegram? Last night?"

  "Sure did. Came back not long after the two of you left here. Since you said to hold the others, we held it, too."

  Logan recalled that she'd gone off with some women last night to help gather supplies. Must have done it then. "Sure, I'll take it to her."

  She probably sent word to Ben Whitaker that she was all right, Logan thought as he exited the office. "I should have thought about that last night when I was sending all the others," he muttered to himself.

  He stuck his telegrams in his back pocket, slipped hers into his shirt pocket and headed for the general store where he planned to replace the necessities he'd lost in the storm. Traveling by himself meant a bit different approach: less food, more ammunition, for instance. While Parkerville's store didn't have as big a selection as he'd found in Fort Worth, he was able to get what he needed. After that, he went by the livery to make arrangements for the horses they'd ridden to town last night.

  He didn't think anymore about Caroline's telegram until he was on his way back to the hotel half an hour later. At that point, he pulled the envelope from his pocket and for the first time, looked at the sender's name listed in the upper left corner.

  Not Ben. It was from a woman. Mrs. Ellen Glazier. Logan's stride slowed as an ugly thought occurred. What if Ben didn't reply to Caroline's telegram because he couldn't? What if something bad happened to Ben?

  Son of a bitch. Caroline didn't need more bad news. She didn't need more stress and upheaval. He stared at the envelope, his mouth set in a grim frown. She was a strong woman, but everyone had a breaking point.

  The instinct to protect welled up strong inside him. That's what husbands did, right? Logan opened the telegram and read:

  Have tried to reach you stop Bad news stop Will disappeared two days ago stop Is he with you

  "What the..." He read the telegram again. This made no sense. Had another Will gone missing? Couldn't be his Will. His Will had been missing for a lot more than two days. Unless...

  Had Caroline lied?

  Something cold washed through his body as the questions shot like bullets from a gun. Was it all a lie? Were they even married? Did he actually have a son? Had his son really gone missing? Or was everything she'd said to him a slick and sick lie?

  No, surely not. He couldn't believe that. That would just be too.. .much. Especially after last night.

  Maybe the woman mixed up her words. Maybe the telegraph operator interpreted them wrong. Maybe this message wasn't even meant for Caroline.

  Then in the whirlwind of his thoughts, Cade came to mind, and the chill inside him turned to frost. Had he dragged his friends—his brothers—into the path of a goddamned tornado for no good reason? What possible reason could Caroline have to tell such a filthy, destructive lie?

  You'd better find out.

  Logan refolded the telegram and idly slapped it against his other hand as he mentally reviewed events and conversations that had occurred since Caroline had waltzed back into his life. What, if anything, was suspect? Nothing he could put his finger on. Sure she'd acted strange a time or two, but considering the circumstances, that was to be expected. Try as he might, he could not recall a single word or action that suggested she wasn't being truthful.

  No sense in being paranoid about this. There must be another explanation. There must be another Will among her friends in Artesia. After all, William was not an uncommon name. Hell, he could probably yell it out right here and a half dozen people would come running.

  And yet, if the telegram didn't portend trouble, why had the hairs on the back of his neck risen to attention?

  Logan shoved the telegram back into his shirt pocket. He didn't have enough information.

  He knew of only one place to get it.

  Picking up his pace, he hurried back to the hotel. He glanced into the Emporium as he passed by, hoping she hadn't gone to breakfast in his absence, and was glad to see no sign of her. This was one discussion he thought should take place in private.

&
nbsp; He entered the hotel and bounded up the stairs. He gave a cursory knock on the door before he entered their room. She was up, dressed and standing by the window that overlooked the street. She would have seen him heading this way.

  Logan opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. Under different circumstances following a night like last night, he'd have crossed right over to her, pulled her into his arms and kissed her silly. But the telegram burning a hole in his pocket and the troubled expression on her face stopped him, and he said simply, "Good morning."

  "Good morning, Logan."

  Well, this was awkward. "I hope you slept well."

  Color stained her cheeks. "I did. Thank you. I see you've been out."

  "You were sound asleep when I woke up. I ran a few errands."

  Following a few seconds of silence, they both spoke at once. "Caroline, we need to talk."

  "Logan, I need to talk to you." She closed her eyes, then brought her hands up and clutched her head. "Please, let's not discuss last night. I can't do that, not now."

  His temper flared at that. She didn't have to act as if making love with him had been the biggest mistake of her life, by God. "Fine. Then let's talk about this."

  He grabbed the telegram from his pocket and tossed it onto the bed. "What's that?" she asked.

  "Telegram came for you. The operator gave it to me when I picked up mine this morning." He folded his arms and waited.

  "I sent word to my...loved ones...last night that I wasn't hurt. I thought they'd want to know."

  "Understandable."

  She reached for the envelope and noted it had been opened. "You read it?"

  "I was afraid it was news about Ben. Thought that as a good husband, I should try to protect you."

  She set her mouth, making it clear she didn't care for his action, but once she started to read the telegram, her pique was obviously forgotten. Her complexion drained of every drop of color. "Oh God. Oh my God!"

  Well, crap. "What the hell is going on here, Caroline?"

  She looked up at him, her eyes round and wild. "Will. It's Will."

  "Whose Will?"

  She dropped the paper and rushed toward him and the door. "I need to find out... Send a telegram... Oh my God."

  He grabbed her arm as she attempted to rush past. "Hold on just a minute."

  "No! Let me go!" She wrenched herself away and dashed into the hallway, then down the stairs.

  Logan muttered a curse and followed her. Once outside, she lifted her skirts and ran.

  "Be damned if I'll run after her," Logan muttered, though he lengthened his stride and picked up his pace. She reached the office a full minute before he did, and by the time he entered, she was handing over a telegram for the operator to transmit. "Oh, and please add the words 'Request Immediate Reply,'" she told him. "How long did it take for the reply to come last night?"

  "Well, let me think." The operator pursed his lips and rubbed his chin. "No more than fifteen, twenty minutes, I expect."

  "Fifteen minutes!" Her voice went shrill. "You should have delivered it to me. We've wasted a whole night."

  "Now, little lady. Your husband said to hold 'em, that y'all needed your rest."

  Caroline paced the small floor space in the office, her hands fisted and nervously hitting her hips. "At least it shouldn't take too long for Ellen to reply today."

  Logan spoke up. "Is there somewhere my wife and I could wait in private? We have things we need to discuss."

  "How 'bout y'all stay here?" The operator pushed away from his desk and reached for his hat. "I'll mosey over to the cafe and see if Mrs. Gillespie's raisin muffins are out of the oven yet."

  "No! You can't leave." Caroline blocked his exit. "You need to be here when my reply comes. It might not take twenty minutes."

  "I know Morse code," Logan responded. He dragged Caroline to his side, allowing the older man to pass. "I can handle it."

  When they were alone in the office, she resumed her pacing, her focus somewhere other than on him. From the looks of it, she didn't care that Logan had discovered her perfidy. The information she'd received in that telegram was all that mattered. Her son was all that mattered.

  Her son. His son. His son?

  That was one little detail he wanted cleared up right away.

  She started muttering to herself, and with every sentence, her tone grew louder, more shrill and tinged with hysteria. "Where did he go? What happened? I shouldn't have left him. What was I thinking?"

  She whirled toward him. "They took him, didn't they? Oh my God. Will."

  She steepled her fingers in front of her face and rocked forward and backward. "Will."

  "Caroline, talk to me."

  She ignored him, speaking to herself and making little sense to him. "A bad idea. Should have listened to my mind instead of my heart. Oh, Will. Will."

  Logan stepped toward her, took her arm and yanked her down into a chair. "Start making sense, Caroline."

  She bounced right back up. "I can't sit down. I'm too nervous."

  "About your son? Is the boy who that telegram says has gone missing your Will?"

  "Our Will."

  "Is he?" Logan snapped back sharply.

  "Yes. He is." She briefly closed her eyes, then said, "I didn't lie about that, Logan."

  Bitterness washed through him. "But everything else...?"

  "I was going to tell you." She halted and lifted her chin, meeting his gaze square on with earnestness shining in her violet eyes. "I swear. First thing this morning."

  He didn't believe her for a second. "Right."

  She didn't protest his disbelief. In fact, she barely seemed to notice as her thoughts went right back to the boy. "Oh, Logan. I'm so afraid. This isn't like Will. Not like him at all. He's so responsible and he promised me he would behave for Ellen. Will doesn't break his promises."

  "Maybe he takes after his mother." Logan folded his arms. "Maybe he lies."

  That got her attention. Pain rippled across her face at his words. "All right. I deserve that. I owe you an explanation, and I'm prepared to provide it, but I just can't think right now. I'm too worried."

  "If you can't think then maybe I'll have a better shot at getting the truth," he fired back. He took a step toward her and braced his hands on his hips. "Talk to me, Caroline. Why did you want me to go into Black Shadow Canyon?"

  She closed her eyes and sighed. "This isn't how... I'm sorry, Logan. I didn't mean for you to learn it this way."

  "I haven't learned anything yet! Except that my wife is willing to lie to me. Hell, she's willing to fuck me to get what she wants!"

  Caroline turned white at that, but Logan was too angry to care. She lifted her chin and said, "I will not take that."

  "Yeah, you damn sure will. You'll take it because you deserve it, and you'll start telling me just what the hell was worth all this."

  "It's Ben," she said, wincing. "Will didn't go looking for Geronimo's Treasure. Ben did. Sort of."

  It took a moment for her words to sink in, but once they did, white-hot fury whipped through Logan. "Ben Whitaker? This is all because of Ben Whitaker? Cade is...is... Dear God."

  He closed his eyes as he relived the horrifying moments when he removed the barbed wire from Cade Hollister's body. Logan was so angry that he couldn't see straight, as furious as he had ever been in his life, so enraged that articulating his thoughts and emotions proved all but beyond him.

  He took a deliberate step away from her, putting her beyond arm's reach. "You turned my life upside down— lured my brothers into danger—because an old, washed-up outlaw decided to prospect for gold?"

  Caroline whirled on him, her own temper blazing. "You watch what you say about Ben, Logan Grey. You have no cause to say such ugly things."

  She really is something, isn't she ? Stands there and defends that old outlaw like he's some kind of saint? He braced his hands on his hips. "No cause? Cade Hollister is fighting for his life because that old bastard decided to get greedy again an
d you say I have no cause?"

  "Ben Whitaker is a fine man. He was there to hold your son the day he was born. He provided us food and shelter when you weren't around to do it. He was there for me at the lowest point of my life, and he saved me. He saved Will."

  "I didn't know—"

  "That's right, you didn't know," she interrupted, her eyes flashing fire. "You didn't try to know. Yes, Logan, I lied to you. Yes, I used you. But you know what? You owe him because he was there and you were not!"

  "I don't owe him shit! Okay, fine, he took care of you and Will, but it was your choice to keep me out of my son's life when you knew he was my son. You took my choices away."

  "But—"

  He wouldn't let her talk. "I should have looked for you, yes—and for that I'll take the hit—but you were just as much a parent as me. You made the choice to raise Will without me, and you chose an old gunslinger to take my place. Just like you made the choice to come to Fort Worth with a sob story about a missing child to pull me into your damned deceitful web. Had you not done that, I'd have never boarded that damned train. Cade and Holt would not have boarded that damned train."

  "Don't you try to blame me for the tornado! I feel terrible about Cade, and I was going to tell you to go to him this morning, but now you can't because this time it is not a lie. This time Will really is missing!"

  "Is he? How the hell can I be sure this isn't just another story? How do I know that this isn't some wild-ass scheme you've cooked up with Whitaker?"

  Her eyes went wild with fury and fear, and he waited for her to strike out at him. Instead, she crumpled. She folded in on herself like a broken doll, slipped to the floor and wept with despair. With defeat. With terror for her son.

  Watching her, Logan recognized that she was telling the truth. He didn't soften—not much, anyway—but he did realize that Will was, indeed, in trouble.

  Logan reached down and grabbed her around the waist, then lifted her back onto her feet. He gave her a firm but gentle shake. "Stop it. Calm down, Caroline. It doesn't do any good to lose control. Look, I believe you, okay? Now explain to me what is happening here so I can start to fix it. Let me hear the story from the beginning."