The Loner

by Geralyn Dawson

  "You were young."

  "Young and green and I didn't cotton on to the more serious crimes this pair were running. Took me a year to figure that one out—a year and a couple of ugly deeds." He shut his eyes and dropped his head back. His voice dipped. "Ugly deeds."

  Caroline waited, her heart softening as she watched the inner struggle evident in his features. He would speak when he was ready—whether she wanted him to or not.

  "The Wilsons sent me to Saltillo to bring in a man who had rustled some cattle from them. I rousted him from a bar and dumped his drunken butt in a wagon to take him back to Texas when his partner showed up and took a shot at me." He looked at her then, and the pain in his gaze shook her to the core. "I shot back and killed my first man—only, he wasn't a man. He was just a kid. Younger than Will is now. His face haunts me to this day."

  "Oh, Logan."

  His voice flattened. "But I didn't quit. Didn't leave. Told myself that it was self-defense and he deserved it. Nevertheless, he was still a boy and I didn't feel good about what I'd done. Couldn't justify taking a youngster's life on account of a handful of cows."

  He threw the last, the biggest, of the stones he'd collected and it pinged off a boulder some twenty feet away. "It was still eating at me a couple months later when I overheard a conversation between the Wilson brothers and figured out that they had lied to me. The man I went looking for in Mexico wasn't a rustler. He was a father who was searching for his daughter, who had gone missing. The boy I killed was his son."

  Caroline didn't know what to say to him, so she walked over next to him and attempted to take his hand. He pulled away, rejecting her comfort, and she tried not to let it hurt.

  "I attempted to find out more about the family, but doing it without tipping my hand was hard. It took a couple of months before I discovered what scheme the Wilson brothers played, but when I did...Jesus."

  This time he gave the loose rocks at his feet a good hard kick. "They kidnapped women, Caroline, and sold them into Mexico as whores."

  Her mouth gaped. She recalled Ben warning her about such events maybe eight or ten years ago when two young women disappeared without a trace from a town not far from Artesia. "Oh, no. What did you do, Logan?"

  His eyes went ice-cold and granite hard. "I played along with them. Told them I wanted in on their game. Next time they took a string of fillies—that's what they called them, fillies, the bastards—I went with them. I wanted to kill them outright, but they were part of a much bigger organization. I realized early on that I wouldn't stop the practice, that I'd just slow it down if I took them out without learning who all the players were. I went to the Rangers and told them everything. They formulated a plan to bring down the entire group and I went along on the next sale."

  Caroline made a quick mental review of the newspaper stories about Logan that she had read. She didn't recall any about him helping the Rangers bring human traffickers to justice.

  "That time they brought eight women," Logan continued. "Eight women and..." he paused, visibly braced himself "...and one beautiful little girl. She was six years old with dark brown curls and big brown eyes. Her name was Elena."

  Caroline bit her lip. She didn't know what he was going to say next, but she could tell from the pain in his expression that it wasn't going to be a pretty story.

  "Her mother was a young widow who had worked as a housekeeper for a Hill Country rancher. Maria was fierce like you trying to protect Elena. Once when she was at her most desperate, she said she'd kill her baby and herself before she'd let her daughter meet the fate that we had planned for her. I couldn't stand it, Caroline."

  "You helped them escape, didn't you?"

  "Yeah. In the end, I didn't trust the Rangers to get them out safe. The night before the Rangers were scheduled to arrive, I took 'em and ran. I thought we got away clean. I kept my eyes on the newspapers and saw that the raid was successful. We thought the trouble was all behind us."

  The agony that dimmed his green eyes told her that wasn't the case.

  "I wanted away from South Texas, so I took us to Oklahoma. I bought a farm. We settled down." He grimaced. "I married Maria, Caroline. I didn't know that you and I..."

  "I get that." She had trouble speaking past the lump in her throat. The pain in her heart made her want to lie down and cry. "You loved her?"

  He hesitated over his words. "It's complicated. I adored Elena. She was cute as a button and so full of life. When Elena smiled, the rest of the world grinned with her. She was an innocent, an angel, and I loved her like I had never loved anyone before. Maria was... well...she tried, but she still mourned Elena's father. Too much had happened too soon for her to really take it all in. I think in time, we might have been fine. Time was something we didn't have."

  "What happened to them, Logan?"

  "The Wilsons happened, that's what. They escaped the Ranger's trap—which was my fault, I should add. I tipped them off by stealing Maria and Elena away. I heard they swore revenge on me, but I honestly thought we were somewhere safe." He gazed off into space, then shook his head. "Damn their souls to everlasting hell."

  Caroline couldn't stay away from him now. She put her hand on his shoulder, offering the little bit of comfort she thought he would accept. When he didn't shake her off, she said, "You were a long way from South Texas."

  "We used different names, too. For all the good it did. If it had just been me, they might not have looked so hard. They needed Maria. The bastards ordinarily took any woman as long as she was young and healthy. Maria was different. Her beauty sucked a man's breath away. A wealthy Mexican don had seen her in the marketplace in San Antonio, but she rebuffed his advances. He wasn't willing to accept that, so he placed an order for her."

  "What an evil man!"

  "I won't argue that. The Wilsons took a lot of money for Maria, so after she escaped, not only were the Rangers after them, the don's men were, too." He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. "I never thought they'd live long enough to find us."

  A long moment passed in silence. Logan turned his head away. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I'd gone into town to buy a gift for Elena's birthday. I came home to..."

  He closed his eyes. His muscles betrayed a slight tremble. She wanted to stop him, to tell him that she understood, that he'd said enough. But she remembered how Suzanne always used to say that a lanced sore needs to drain for healing to begin, so she clenched her teeth and remained silent.

  "It was obvious that the Wilsons had tried to take her again, and that Maria wasn't having any of it. I don't know what they did to her, what they said to her, but I think she must have gone a little crazy."

  Again, a pause. Then he cleared his throat and said in a low, flat tone, "She got a pistol and shot Elena, then turned it on herself. I arrived home no more than five minutes too late to save them."

  Caroline sat in stunned horror. That poor mother. What an insane choice she had faced. To kill her own child or let her be sold into sexual slavery? Caroline couldn't imagine.

  And Logan. To have to walk in on the aftermath. Just a heartbreak too late. No wonder he didn't believe in family. And that little girl...

  The tears that had welled in Caroline's eyes spilled at the horror of the picture he had painted. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. At first he held himself stiff and aloof, but he didn't push her away. Caroline took that as a positive sign.

  He needs me. He doesn't know it, but he needs me.

  "You killed the Wilsons, I hope?"

  "Oh, yeah. Emptied my gun into their cold black hearts. Too damned late, though." His voice broke. "Too damned late."

  "Logan, I—"

  Apparently he'd reached the limits of his willingness to accept comfort because he pulled away from her, whirled on her. "I learned my lesson, Caroline. Lucky Logan Grey? That's a crock. Twice now I've had my family taken from me. Third time is no charm for me. So now do you understand, Caroline?"

  Oh, Logan. He
needed her. She needed him. She needed to show him that there was another chance for him, another family. People who would love him and heal him. But how to tell him? How to show him? How to make him see?

  Before she could find the solution, he braced his hands on his hips and declared, "I can't be the husband you want. I won't be the husband you want. Hell, I can't even be the father Will deserves."

  "Logan, don't say that."

  "I am saying it and you damned well better hear it. I'll give you my money, Caroline. I'll give you my care and concern. I'll gladly give your body pleasure any time you'd like. But, by God, don't ask for more from me. I don't have it to give, and even if I did, I wouldn't visit my bad luck on you. I care about you too much."

  She understood, all right. Even brave, courageous men could had a fear they could not conquer. Logan was terrified of the past—he'd lost his family twice. He was fearful of what the future might bring—he couldn't bear another devastating loss. For over a decade now he had lived only in the present, sinking no roots, protecting his heart. Living alone.

  This poor, sad man.

  Bravely, she approached the wounded animal to whom she was married. She took his face in her hands and stared up into his eyes. "I care about you, too, and now I understand. I do. That doesn't mean that I agree with you, however."

  "What do you mean?"

  Now the time had come for her to jump off the cliff, so to speak. She didn't want to do it. She hated the thought of making herself vulnerable this way, but Caroline knew that reaching a man this badly wounded required a great show of faith. And more.

  "I love you, Logan Grey."

  The words echoed in the silence that followed. For the briefest of instants, something flared in his eyes— hope or happiness or joy. Then he flinched as if in pain and his entire body went stiff. "Ah, Caroline, don't."

  She ignored his protest and pressed onward. "I love you and you don't have to be alone any longer. I can understand why events in your past have made you think it's necessary, but it's time to stop being afraid."

  "Hell, Caroline..." His inner struggle played across his face. He wanted to believe her, to take the chance, she could see it. But his fear was a monster, and it would take some time, some doing, for her to convince him that he deserved another chance at a happy ending.

  She put a finger against his mouth. "Just let me say this. In fact, I'd rather you didn't say anything at all. You are my husband, Logan Grey, and you're the father of my son, and if nature warrants, the father of the child I could even now be carrying."

  "Oh God," he muttered against her finger, panic brimming in his eyes.

  "We already are a family, albeit one of an unusual circumstance, so it's really too late for you to say it can't happen. You have a family and I intend to make a home for you."

  "Dammit, Caroline! Didn't you hear a word I said?"

  She'd heard. She'd also seen the battle he fought in the pain on his face, the anguish in his eyes. He wanted to walk away because he thought he was trouble for her and Will. Yet, he obviously didn't want to walk away.

  "I heard it," she replied, her smile bittersweet. "But I choose to be optimistic. You are a courageous man at heart, Logan. You've survived things that would have killed a lesser man or at least made him bitter and mean. You've allowed this fear to rule you for too long, but it can be overcome. I am willing to give it some time. I'm willing to bet on myself and on our home and family... I'm willing to bet on you."

  He dipped his head, rested his brow on hers. "You're crazy, Caroline Grey."

  "Crazy in love with you." She lifted her face and went up on her tiptoes. "Kiss me, Logan. Show me what I know is in your heart—even if you can't say the words just quite yet."

  He groaned his defeat and touched his lips to hers. It was a kiss unlike any other they had shared. A kiss filled with tenderness and tears, a kiss filled with yearning, so sweet that she couldn't help but weep at the beauty of it.

  The menacing and nearby sha-shuck of a round being chambered in a shotgun shocked both Caroline and Logan from their sensual fog. Then came the sound of the sweetest words Caroline had ever heard.

  "You have half a second to get your filthy paws off my ma before I shoot you dead, you sorry son of a bitch."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "Will!" Caroline tore out of Logan's arms and darted toward the boy, squealing with joy and relief. "Oh, Will."

  Logan's heart about stopped as he watched her rush toward the gun, and he didn't breathe freely until he saw the barrel shift toward the ground. Then she was in the boy's arms, weeping and laughing and squealing like a mashed cat.

  "Mama!" The single word conveyed both concern and embarrassment as one arm wrapped around his mother and the other kept the gun handy.

  Smart thinking, Logan thought as he studied his son. Will was almost as tall as Logan, skinny as a rail, but with broad shoulders that promised a full frame. Looking into his face was like staring into a magic mirror that took years off Logan's own visage. Except the eyes that glared at Logan were full of protective fury and awkward awareness.

  Great. What a wonderful way to make a first impression—my hands on his mother's ass.

  Caroline babbled. "Oh, sweetheart, I was so scared. Are you all right? Did he hurt you? Oh, baby."

  "I'm fine. Are you all right, Mama?" Again, he shot Logan a glare hot enough to spark a fire.

  "I'm fine, too. I'm wonderful. Oh, Will." She stepped back, gazed at her son, then burst into blubbering tears and collapsed, overcome with emotion.

  "Caroline!" Logan said, taking a step toward her.

  "Get back!" Will snapped. He hovered over her, shielding her from Logan. "What did you do to her?"

  Logan debated the best way to handle the situation. Did he assert himself as the leader of their little pack here and now, or did he step back and allow the boy time to adjust?

  Caroline took the decision out of his hands by lifting her head and saying, "Be nice, William. Just give me a minute. I need to cry a little more."

  "But you never cry." He shot an accusing glare toward Logan. "She never cries!"

  "She's been worried sick about you. Plus, it's been a difficult trip. She's a little wobbly right now, but I suspect she'll be right as rain once she waters herself out."

  Will scowled and rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze flitting between his mother and his father. "I don't like it."

  "Can't say I like it much, either. Few things in the world scare me like a female's tears." He waited a beat, then casually asked, "Are you hungry? The rabbit stew needs to cook a while longer, but I can rustle up something to fill the hole in the meantime."

  The boy was obviously torn. It was clear that he didn't want to accept anything from Logan, but hunger was a powerful motivator—especially since the boy had been on his own for a bit.

  "I guess I could eat," Will finally said with a shrug.

  Logan strode over to the supply bags and pulled out a can of peaches. He held it up, Will nodded and Logan tossed first an opener, and then the can to him. The boy caught them, then as he opened the can, he stated, "You are Logan Grey, aren't you?"

  Logan tensed. "I am."

  But Will didn't say any more. He focused his attention on the peaches, devouring the entire can in half a minute.

  His mouth twisted in a wry smile, Logan handed over a second can. "You want me to heat some beans or do you like them cold?"

  "Cold is good."

  Logan nodded and fished a can of beans out of the supply bag. Before Will was through, he'd polished off a second can of beans, an apple and two strips of beef jerky. Logan watched in fascinated wonder until his son washed down his meal with half a canteen of water and curiosity compelled him to ask, "Did Plunkett feed you at all?"

  The boy froze. "You know about him?"

  "That was a mighty ugly burn he was sporting on his ugly mug. I assume you were responsible for it?"

  "You saw him?" Every drop of color drained from Will's face. He glan
ced around, searching for the shotgun he'd set aside in order to eat. He didn't realize Logan had picked it up and stuck it in the supply bag. "Is he near here? Look, we need to hide. He's dangerous. He's—"

  "Dead."

  His head snapped up. His eyes were round as saucers. "What?"

  "Our paths crossed this morning. I killed him. Deuce Plunkett will never hurt you or anyone else you love ever again."

  With that, all the fear and all the fury drained out of the boy. He stumbled backward a step and for a moment there Logan thought he might collapse just the way his mother had. Instead, he bent over, put his hands on his knees and sucked in a heavy breath. "You killed him."

  "Yep."

  "Did you shoot him?"

  "I did."

  Will nodded. "I threw hot beans in his face."

  "Good choice. Those suckers stuck to his skin. Burned him bad."

  "Made him slow down on the trigger. He thought he had me, but I jumped him and managed to get away."

  "Smart thinking. I'm proud of you, son." When Will shot him a sharp, disgruntled look, Logan added, "Maybe it's a little soon for me to use the term?"

  The boy shrugged, then glanced toward his mother as if looking for help, but Caroline appeared to have cried herself asleep. Logan gave her a hard look. He could use a little help here, too. Was she playing possum?

  "I don't mean to sound ungrateful," Will finally said. "It's just that.. .well.. .this feels mighty peculiar. I mean, I hadn't eaten in two days, then I get a whiff of rabbit and I follow it to find my mother and your hands... well... I want to skip that part."

  "Good idea. Great idea."

  "Then you tell me you killed him... I feel like it's last year when my mama made me join the local theater group and I was living someone else's life."

  "Caroline must really like that theater. She tried to make me wear a costume as a disguise. Orange pants and a purple vest." Logan made a show of shuddering.