The Loner

by Geralyn Dawson

  Caroline jumped when she felt the first whoosh of something skimming past her. Even as she realized that, another and another and another joined the first, and the whine bore down upon them. Barreled past them. Brushed her skin.

  Fanny cried, "What...?"

  "Bats!" Logan hollered just as Caroline figured it out on her own.

  It was a stream of bats, a river of them, squeaking and shrieking in her ears, swishing past and occasionally thumping against her. They came and they came and they came—hundreds and thousands and more, gushing into the narrow tunnel and filling it from wall to wall, ceiling to floor. The musty smell grew overpowering, and the age-old fear of humans for the tiny mammals made her forget about Fanny and her gun. The lantern lights extinguished, leaving them once again in total darkness, and Caroline heard herself whimper.

  Vaguely, she realized Fanny was screaming and shooting her little revolver, long past the time she'd emptied its chambers of rounds.

  Then something big and hard pushed against her. A body. A hand grabbed her, found her arm and tugged her against the fearsome stream. Logan. A leathery wing hit her face and she shut her eyes, following blindly. Blind as a bat. A hysterical little laugh escaped her. Then he shoved her down against a thick stalagmite.

  "Curl up, honey," he instructed, hollering to be heard. "Think of a rock in a streambed—the water will flow around us."

  Then he knelt in front of her and shielded her body with his, and Caroline felt safe.

  When he kissed her, it shocked her almost as much as had the bats and she jerked her head away. "What are you doing?"

  "Protecting you." He nuzzled her neck. "Distracting you."

  "Oh. Well. Carry on."

  She never completely lost track of time or place, but he did take the terror out of the moment. The bat flight lasted a long, long, long time—more than half an hour— and when the sounds finally died, the movements finally died, Logan lifted his head and whispered, "Stay here."

  She wouldn't dream of doing anything else.

  He said, "Sound off."

  "Here," Holt said.

  "Yo," came Tom's voice.

  "Holy heaven above," breathed Ben. "Where's Caroline?"

  "I'm here," she called out. "I'm fine."

  Logan let out an audible sigh of relief. "Anybody hurt?"

  Each man answered in the negative, then Tom asked, "Where's the witch?"

  "I don't know," Logan grimly replied. "But unless she has a gun belt strapped on somewhere out of sight, she's out of bullets. Can anyone find their lantern?"

  "I'm looking for mine," Holt called back. "Hard."

  Tom discovered his first, and when the soft glow of candlelight bloomed in the darkness, the collective sigh of relief caused everyone to laugh.

  "What in Hades happened here?" Tom asked once the rest of the lanterns were located and lit. "I've never seen nor imagined the likes of such a thing."

  "Sunset," Ben explained. "The bats leave their roost at sunset to hunt. I've been in the caves at this time of the evening, but never in this particular section. We ended up between the bats' roost and their exit."

  "Scared the bejezus out of me," the young Ranger confessed. "Miz Caroline, I am powerful sorry that my mistake put you at risk."

  "That's all right," Caroline said.

  "No, it's really not," Logan fired back. "I expect you to make up for it by guarding her with your life while we go find the murdering whore. I don't care if a pride of mountain lions comes through here next, you and Ben damn well better keep her safe. Holt, you up to going with me to find Fanny?"

  "Not gonna be necessary, partner," Holt replied. Once his lantern was lit, he'd moved down toward where she'd last been seen. "I followed the footsteps in the dust. Look."

  Caroline refused to let loose Logan's hand, so he tugged her along the path with him to where Holt stood. "Careful. There's a drop-off." Holt held out his lantern and illuminated the black space.

  Caroline sucked in a breath. Fanny Plunkett hadn't fallen far, but she'd fallen hard. Her eyes were open and glassy, her expression one of bone-chilled terror. Her head rested in a plate-size pool of blood.

  Beside Caroline, Ben Whitaker said, "Now that was an ugly death. Good. The old bat got what she deserved. May she rot in hell and get spattered in bat droppings twice a day for eternity."

  "Amen," said the men, one after another.

  Caroline wrapped her arms around Logan's waist and hugged him hard. "It's done. It's over. Now, let's go home."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Fort Worth, Texas

  Logan walked through the doors of Doctor Peter Daggett's private hospital into the sunshine, lifted his face to the warmth and gave a silent little prayer of thanks. He'd never been much of a churchgoing man, but after the events of the past weeks, he was beginning to think he should look into it.

  He, Holt, Caroline and Will had made the hospital their first stop upon arriving in town this morning. Holt had warned them what to expect, but nothing could have prepared them for what they found. Logan had taken one look at Cade, and for the first time since Maria and Elena died, damned near broke into tears.

  His scars were savage. His attitude...well...Logan couldn't quite read it. He said the right things, smiled and joked and acted positive, but Logan wasn't sure he bought it. His injuries, the pain, the forced incapacitation had all taken a toll on the Cade he knew like a brother. Something more was there. Something he wasn't talking about—not even when the others had left them for a little private conversation during which Logan attempted to apologize and Cade refused to listen.

  Yet, Dr. Daggett claimed he would recover. Cade's bones were healing, his cuts closing, and the infections were just about whipped. The news was something to celebrate.

  Nevertheless, Logan felt a powerful need to kick something.

  Glancing around the bustling front lawn, he spied Caroline and Will sitting on a bench beneath the shading branches of a cottonwood tree. He wasn't surprised to see her crying. He could tell when she'd walked into Cade's hospital room that she had trouble holding in her emotions.

  Will saw him and waved, said something to his mother, then walked over to Logan, his expression troubled. "Is he really gonna be okay, sir? Mama is fit to be tied."

  Logan fitted his hat onto his head and blew out a heavy breath. He'd tried to talk Caroline into getting off the train at the Artesia stop, but she'd been determined to check on Cade herself. "Cade will pull out of this. He has a long road ahead of him, but in the end, I truly believe he will be all right."

  Will's expression went solemn. "It's our fault."

  "No, it's not," Logan reassured him. It's mine. "Look, Cade doesn't blame anyone for what happened. He told me a few minutes ago that it was his choice to be on that train and his bad luck to be swept away by that cloud. If he believes that, then we should make a good effort to do likewise. I know one thing.. .he was happy as a flea in a doghouse to meet you."

  "Maybe I can visit him again. He said he had lots of stories he wanted to tell me about you."

  "I'll just bet he does," Logan replied, wincing at the thought. Then, giving the area another sweep, he asked, "So, where did Holt run off to?"

  "He went to see his captain. He said he wanted to make sure Tom didn't blow the mistake he'd made with Fanny Plunkett all out of proportion, and he asked me to tell you that he'd see you tonight at the MacRaes."

  Dair had met them at the station this morning for a quick exchange of information and an invitation to dinner at his and Emma's new home. With the new caretakers settled in well at the orphanage, and Emma missing her parents and siblings, the MacRaes had decided to make Fort Worth their permanent residence. When a perfect house came on the market the same day the tornado struck the train, Dair made a cash purchase and they'd moved in immediately. Their home was in the same neighborhood where Logan had purchased a house last fall—an investment, since a man with his job didn't have much use for a house.

  Of course, back then h
e didn't know he had a wife and son. The house would come in handy until he and Caroline figured out how they should handle this marriage and fatherhood thing.

  He slung his arm around his son's shoulder and said, "Will, let's see your mother to my place. It's been a hard few days of traveling, and I know she's longing for a bath."

  Twenty minutes later, he opened the gate to the white picket fence and led them up the front walk to a large, two-story home with a wraparound porch on the front and a backyard made for playing catch. "This is your house?" Will breathed, his eyes round with wonder. "It's a mansion!"

  "Well, that depends how you define mansion," Logan replied with a laugh. "I don't have much in the way of furniture."

  Caroline stepped inside, glanced around and laughed. "Not much in the way of furniture? You have a chair, Logan. One."

  He shrugged. "I only need one. There's just one of me. Although..." He dragged a hand down his face. He hadn't been thinking. "I guess I'd better get hold of one of the furniture stores in town and get a bed delivered for Will."

  Glancing around, he looked at the bare interior with new eyes. "In fact, would you make a list, Caroline? Whatever you think we need."

  Following a long moment's pause, she stared him straight in the eyes and repeated, "We?"

  He shrugged and tried to act as if he didn't know what she meant by glossing over the question. "I don't even have a kitchen table. I never cook for myself when I'm here."

  "You eat in restaurants all the time? Don't you get tired of that and want a home-cooked meal?"

  "Then I usually beg a meal off one of my friends' wives."

  But Caroline wasn't about to let it go. "Are you inviting us to stay, Logan?"

  He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know what words he wanted to say. He hemmed. He hawed. He shuffled his feet.

  Caroline sighed and said, "Will? Will you excuse us, please?"

  "Gladly." The boy looked at Logan with disapproval in his eyes and maybe just a little disgust.

  Logan blinked. So much for the boy being awestruck with him. When it came to his mother, he was a bear.

  Logan's natural response to the moment was to reach for his wallet and offer him money. "There's a candy shop in town. Indulgences, it's called. I recommend the Chocolate Teases."

  "I'll just bet you do," Will grumbled as he accepted the bills, kissed his mother's cheek. He didn't so much as look at Logan when he left.

  "Boy can fill with vinegar fast, can't he?" Logan observed.

  The hard shut of the door seemed to echo through the empty house. Emotion he didn't want to name—hell, he didn't know if he could put a name to it—welled up inside him. All he knew for certain was that he didn't want her to go.. .but he couldn't ask her to stay.

  He waited for her to speak first, but she outsmarted him by repeating her question. "Logan, are you inviting us to stay?"

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Ah, Caro, nothing has changed. I'll give you my house, my money, whatever you need. If you want to live here, that's fine. It'll be easier for me to see more of Will that way than if y'all stay in Artesia. But my warning is the same. Don't ask, don't expect more from me. Like I told you before, I'm not offering you a family."

  "We already are a family, Logan. Whether you like it or not."

  "No, we're not!" The unknown, unnamed emotion rolled and bubbled and burned. "Even if I had any doubts—which I don't—what happened in that cave would have put them to rest. Look, you need to get that through your head, woman, once and for all. You were damned lucky in that cavern. I should have killed Fanny before she ever had a chance to put a gun on you."

  She blinked. "Let me get this straight. You think we are not a family because Fanny Plunkett threatened to shoot me?"

  "My families die, Caroline!" That time his voice did echo through the empty rooms.

  Caroline closed her eyes and her mouth set in a grim line. Logan realized his heart was racing like a Thoroughbred at the half-mile turn. That was before Caroline shocked him speechless by shrugging out of her traveling jacket and lifting her fingers to the buttons on her blouse.

  His mouth went dry when she slipped off her shirt. His hands fisted at his sides when she dropped her skirt. By the time she stripped away her underwear, his pecker was hard enough to drive nails. Finally, he found his voice, "Why?"

  "I want a bath. I assume you have one of those?"

  "Yeah.. .sure.. .upstairs. The house has a shower, too," he replied, distracted by the wondrous sight of high, full breasts tipped in delicate coral, the narrow waist and flaring hips and tawny triangle. My God, she was beautiful and...sneaky. This was blatant seduction, and he hadn't a clue how it was that they'd gone from discussing buying furniture to this. Making one last extremely weak effort at resistance, he asked, "But, Caroline.. .why?"

  "Because I've been traveling and honestly, Logan, you can use one, too. Why don't you join me?"

  "Well, I do need a good washing."

  "Oh, honey." Damned if she didn't wink at him. "Good doesn't begin to describe what I have in mind."

  Forty-five minutes, one bath and two showers later, he lay sprawled across his bed, naked and spent, his mind still drifting in a sensual haze. It occurred to him that they hadn't settled anything, but in that moment, in the exhausted wake of her wild and tempestuous loving, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

  So he allowed the subject to drop for the rest of the day, then for a week, then for an entire month. Three months passed and he never once broached the topic.

  Logan Grey was happy.

  "Lucky Logan Grey is the saddest excuse for a disciplinarian I have ever seen," Mari Prescott said, shaking her head in wonder from her seat on Logan's back porch where she and her sisters watched him attempt a stern look while scolding the children for recklessly swinging from one oak tree to another.

  "He's new at it," Kat Kimball said in his defense even as she laughed at the way her own little Caroline batted her eyes up at the man while she twirled a long auburn curl around her finger. "He'll learn."

  "He can say no to Will upon a rare occasion." Caroline grinned as she set a plate of assorted cookies in the center of the white wicker porch table for the women to share. "When it comes to little girls, he's mush."

  Emma chose a ginger snap. "He's happy. Now that Cade is out of the hospital the last of the shadows are gone from his eyes."

  At that, Caroline's smile faltered. Now if she could just do something about the shadows in his heart. "Seeing Cade discharged was a huge relief for Logan."

  "What is he going to do with his time now that he won't be spending it all at the hospital?"

  "I don't know. He doesn't say." Caroline attempted nonchalance as she added, "I expect he might take a job and leave here. Those boots of his do tend to wander."

  "Does he recognize that you are making him a home, Caroline?"

  "Yes, I think he does. And that will be what sends him running, I'm afraid."

  The sisters shared a look, then Mari took her hand. "He loves you, Caroline. It's as plain to see as Emma's belly."

  "Well," scoffed Emma, placing a protective hand on her recently visible pregnancy.

  Caroline rewarded Mari's attempt to coax a smile from her. But it didn't last. "I know he loves me. Will knows he loves us both. I think everyone in Fort Worth knows it after Wilhemina Peters wrote that special report in the newspaper. I didn't mind giving her an eyewitness account of the tornado, but did she have to include how Logan went crazy buying us gifts at the general store both before and afterward?"

  "Don't pay any attention to Mrs. Peters. She's plagued us all our lives, and we're none the worse. Well, not too much the worse. If you're a citizen of Fort Worth, she's your cross to bear."

  "The question is how long will I be a citizen," Caroline responded. "School starts soon. Will has made friends here, but if Logan is going to leave, I think he'd rather go home to Artesia and his friend Danny."

  "Why wou
ld Logan leave?" Mari asked. "It makes no sense."

  "Dair thinks something happened to him during those years where no one kept up with one another," Emma said.

  "It's his story to tell," Caroline said. "I won't betray his confidence more than to say that yes, he has reason to.. .flee.. .from what I have to offer him. Maybe not a good reason, but an understandable one."

  At that point the man under discussion suddenly lifted his head like a hunting dog on point. His gaze swept the yard and the children who played there, then turned toward the porch. She wasn't certain, but she thought he was counting heads.

  From inside the house came the ring of the telephone. Caroline saw Logan start toward the house as she excused herself to answer it, wondering who could be calling and why.

  It was the why that had her uneasy.

  She lifted the receiver and spoke into the mouthpiece. "Hello?"

  A man's voice replied, "Mrs. Grey?"

  "Yes."

  "This is Deputy Stevens and I'm looking for Sheriff Prescott. May I speak to him, please? We have us an emergency."

  "Certainly, Deputy. I'll get him right away."

  "Thank you, ma'am."

  Caroline set down the receiver and hurried out to the back porch where she stopped and met Logan's worried gaze as she called out to the men circled around the barbecue pit. "Luke? You have a telephone call from Deputy Stevens. He says there's an emergency."

  Logan's scowl deepened, but he didn't comment as Luke handed his drink to Jake Kimball and stretched his long legs into a run. The other men followed at a slower pace until the four couples and Holt Driscoll congregated by the back steps. Prodded by an instinct she didn't understand, Caroline descended the steps to stand beside Logan. She took hold of his hand just as Luke Prescott opened the back door.

  Logan gripped Caroline's hand hard even before the white-faced sheriff began to speak. "Men, someone needs to get Lucky and Caroline to the hospital. Will has run into some trouble." He raised his voice to be heard over the gasps as he added, "It's not a life-threatening wound, but the boy has been stabbed."