The Loner

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by Geralyn Dawson


  But he didn't want it to end. Not yet.

  "Caroline," he murmured, wanting...needing her to look at him. Her lashes lifted and he gazed deeply into those enormous violet pools, silently telling her the words his lips could not form.

  "Logan," she whispered, the sweet sound like a prayer and the mood changed. Deepened.

  She folded down onto him and he rolled her over onto her back and rose above her. Their hands clasped. Their gazes didn't shift from one another as time continued in a slow haze.

  They were as one. The rasp of her breath heavy with passion was his breath. The honeyed taste of her kiss, his kiss. The warm, wet yield of her body as he thrust within her and the tight clasp of velvet muscles as she rose to meet him wasn't simply a physical union, but a joining of souls.

  It was heaven. It was hell. It was life at its most basic. He wanted it to last forever, but the slow erotic friction eventually took its toll. Pressure built at the base of his spine and as she cried out her pleasure, as those inner waves of ecstasy clamped around him, he had no choice but to lose himself within her, to give himself to her in both sadness and in joy.

  He clung to her damp body, wishing away the heaviness in his heart. Her name slipped from his lips in a sigh as he cuddled Caroline closer and kissed her temple.

  Exhausted, he sank down into the pillows, taking her with him. She snuggled up against him, kissing his shoulder. With a trust he didn't deserve, she buried her face in the crook of his neck. It was then he felt the tears. "Caroline?"

  "Don't," she whispered with a soft sniffle. "Let's just leave it be. For tonight."

  Even now, when he knew her heart was breaking, she tried so hard to be strong. Logan's heart constricted. "Honey, I wish that I—"

  "Please," she begged. "Don't say anything. Just hold me. For now, just hold me, Logan. It's all I want."

  His insides twisted painfully at the raw anguish in her tone, but he could no more deny her request than he could leave the bed. All she wanted was her husband. Tonight, at least, he could give her that.

  After a bit, she slept. He lay awake, all his senses alive. He heard the faint bark of a dog, noted the scent of beeswax and lemon and lovemaking on the air. He tasted salt from her tears and felt the warm wisp of a breeze drifting through their open window and skimming across his bare skin.

  Mostly, he focused on her. He listened to her breathe, steady and sated. He was so attuned to her body, knew her pulses, her heartbeat and her movements. He knew the flash in her eyes when she happy, angry and about to find heaven in his arms.

  He also knew she loved him.

  Letting his hand run a soft caress along her back, Logan looked to the window and stared out into the moonless night sky. So dark, he thought absently. Colorless and empty. No moon, no stars.

  Was that what he had to look forward to? Darkness? Solitude? No Caroline. No Will. How would he manage without them? How could he walk away and live with nothing when everything was right here?

  But when a man had nothing, he had nothing to lose. He'd had everything before and it damn near killed him. Twice.

  He would manage nothing. It was the only choice he could make.

  Caroline awoke the next morning determined to treat the day like any other. As usual, she woke before him and indulged in a few moments simply lying beside him, watching the sunlight strengthen through the window and enjoying the sensation of having her man in her bed. This day, the last day, she took an extra minute before silently rising to wash and dress and prepare herself to face the hours ahead.

  How would she get through them? She liked to believe she was strong, but was she really? How could she stand there and watch the man she loved walk away? How could she let him go without a fight?

  Because the fight isn't yours, but his. His fears went deep and no one could conquer them but Logan.

  So she wouldn't make demands. She wouldn't beg. She wouldn't cry. What she would do was pick up the pieces of her broken heart while trying not to think of her own fears.

  She decided to make waffles for breakfast. They were Will's favorite and she wanted to pamper him today. Logan's leaving would be hard for him and while she couldn't protect him from the pain, the mother in her needed to make a gesture. She heard sounds of movement upstairs as she stirred her mix and her heart caught, but she shook it off. Moments later, she heard Sly come bounding downstairs and she moved to the door to let him out.

  He vaulted out into the backyard with enthusiasm, ready for another exciting day of life. Watching him sniff and explore the space still new to him, Caroline was struck by two things. First, thank goodness they'd sent for the dog instead of waiting for Will's planned visit with Daniel later this month, and second, how nice it would be to trade places with Sly for a day. What she wouldn't give to spend today sniffing and digging and worrying about chasing butterflies rather than comforting her son and remaining strong herself when Logan Grey said goodbye.

  The two males in her life came downstairs together, Will peppering his father with questions about the search for the Wild Bunch. "Tell you what, son. Let's wait until after breakfast to get into that, shall we? Thinking about Kid Curry and his knife is bound to give me indigestion."

  With his questions shut down, Will spent his time on his other favorite topic—attempting to finagle his way out of the home-confinement part of his punishment. He offered up a few creative alternatives, she had to admit, though he posed them to his father, who responded with simply a helpless look at Caroline. She said, "The idea of you helping Doctor Daggett at his hospital does have some appeal. Let me think about it, and we'll discuss it after lunch."

  His eyes widened in surprise. Caroline had never rescinded a grounding in the past, and while she could see he had a question, he wasn't about to voice it. "Okay. Thanks, Ma. Great waffles." Then he dabbed his mouth with his napkin, and said, "May I be excused to do my morning chores?"

  "You may. Start by weeding my vegetable patch, please. The dandelions are about to take over."

  "Yes, ma'am." Seconds later, the screen door slammed behind him and she hear him call out, "Sly! Fetch the ball, Sly."

  "Can I help you with the dishes?" Logan asked, standing and speaking his first words to her that day.

  "No, thanks. You have things of your own to do."

  He hesitated as though he wanted to say more, then he gave an almost imperceptible shrug, turned and headed upstairs.

  Caroline's fingers trembled just a little as she washed, dried and put away the dishes. She worked to keep her mind blank and her emotions encased in a block of ice, but she managed it. When she climbed the stairs once her kitchen work was done and she'd made a brief detour into the library, she was calm, collected and cool as a winter morn.

  Their bedroom door was open. She stopped just inside the room. His suitcase lay open on the bed, the clothing that had hung next to hers in the chifforobe now packed neatly inside. He stood at the window, gazing out at Will on his hands and knees amongst her summer squash. "You gonna modify his punishment?"

  "Probably. It'll be good for him to be around other people the next few days, I think."

  He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the scene below. Caroline felt the ice around her heart start to crack, so she quickly forged ahead. "It looks like you're just about packed."

  "Yeah...I travel light." Finally, he turned around. "My train leaves in less than an hour."

  She forced a smile and made it look good. "Well, you'd best hurry, then. You'll need a few minutes with Will before you go."

  "Caroline—"

  "I wondered if you might like to take this with you," she interrupted when it appeared as if he thought to rehash the discussion from the previous night. She handed him a framed tintype of Will. "Mr. Swartz felt so bad about what happened to Will that he offered to make it at no charge."

  "He's a fine-looking boy," Logan said, staring down at the photo. "Thanks. I'll treasure this. But.. .1 need one of you, too."

  Caroline swallo
wed hard. "I didn't have one made. Now, can I help you with your packing? Did you remember your razor from the bathroom? And your work boots are down in the mud room. I don't know if you'll want those or not."

  His voice held a bit of an edge as he said, "You're taking this better than I figured."

  She almost lost her control then, but she took a moment to settle before she replied. "Did you want me to cry and carry on and beg you to stay? Would that make this easier for you? Are you hoping that I do exactly that so that you feel you must stay, and then you can spend the next ten, twenty, fifty years holding it against me? Is that what you want, Logan?"

  "No, of course not."

  She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Well, if it is, you are officially out of luck. That doesn't suit me. Believe me, I've put a lot of thought into it. Yes, I want you to stay, but that's not enough. You need to want to stay. You need to be certain. You need to be with me and with Will of your own free will, not because I coerced you with tears or because I told you I—"

  She broke off abruptly, then took a deep, calming breath and finished. "You need to choose us because you know that being with us is right, you know it all the way down to your bones. Any other reason will poison what we have, and that is the one thing that would break my heart irreparably."

  He had words bottled up inside him, that she could tell by the pain in his eyes, the line of his jaw, the grimace on his face. Yet, he said only, "I'm leaving, Caroline. I have to leave."

  "I know that," she snapped back. "You've explained it to me. I might not agree with it, but I understand. Now, go explain it to your son."

  His jaw hardened even more as he shut the suitcase and fixed the buckles. Caroline straightened her spine and squared her shoulders as he grabbed the case and walked past her. "Are you coming with me?"

  "No. This is something you need to do on your own."

  She remained in their bedroom as he went downstairs, his footfalls sounding heavy and loud against the wooden steps. When she heard the back screen door bang shut, she moved toward the window. Though she'd prefer not to eavesdrop on this conversation, her son's welfare compelled her to do so. She pushed the window open wider and waited.

  "Will?" Logan called. "I need to talk to you for a moment."

  "Yessir." Caroline watched her son stand and brush the dirt off the knees of his jeans. "I'm sorry, buddy," she murmured softly. "I wish I could have spared you this."

  Logan shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. Will loped up to him and asked, "Ah, man. You've got that look on your face. What did I do now?"

  "Nothing. I.. .um.. .1 took a job with Wells Fargo. I'm going after the Wild Bunch."

  "You are!" Will's excitement quickly faded. "I guess that means you'll be gone for a bit."

  "Um.. .longer than a bit, Will. I'm off to Tennessee first, and after that, who knows."

  Now Will stuck his hands in his pockets as he faced his father, the two looking so much alike that Caroline let out a little moan. "I don't understand. I thought range detectives were free to take whatever jobs they want."

  "They are."

  "So.. .you want to take this job?" Without giving Logan a real chance to answer, he added, "You want to leave us?"

  Logan raked his fingers through his hair. "This is something I need to do."

  "Because of me?" Will's voice sounded stricken. "Do you feel you have to seek revenge because of what Kid Curry did to me?"

  "No, son. I didn't take the job because of you."

  "Have you run out of money, then? Look, I can take some of that stuff you bought me back."

  "No." Logan grimaced and frustration tightened his voice. "Money isn't a problem. I'm wealthy. I took it because.. .well.. .it was time."

  "Time for what?"

  "For me to leave."

  "Why?" Will's brow furrowed in confusion and in pain. "I don't understand!"

  "It's complicated. Look, what you need to know is that no matter where I am, I will always be your father. I am not abandoning you. You must understand that. Any time you want to contact me, let 'em know at the local Wells Fargo office and they'll track me down. If you really need me, I'll do my best to get back here for you."

  "Track you down? You mean, you really aren't coming back unless I need you to?"

  As Will stared up at Logan, his expression appeared to collapse in on itself. The admiration, the respect, even the love simply crumbled. Will yanked his hands from his pockets and fisted them at his sides. "I won't need you."

  Logan turned his head as if he'd taken a blow to the chin.

  Will took a step back, and now when he looked at his father, his gaze was a glare, his smile a grim line and the tone of his voice a scathing attack.

  "Fine. I get it. I understand. It's time for you to leave. You're tired of us. It's just like the last time. You left Mama. Ben was right about you all along, I guess. I should have known. Mom warned me, but I thought she was crazy. What kind of man wouldn't want what she has—what we have—to offer? Only a fool or maybe a coward. What are you, Logan Grey? A fool or a coward? I think it's both. You're a fool and a coward."

  Logan opened his mouth, then shut it abruptly without responding.

  "I looked up to you," Will continued. "Guess that makes me a fool, too. But by God, I'm not a coward. I'll tell you what I think of you. You're supposed to be the luckiest man in Texas...well, I think that's true. It was your good luck to have my Mama marry you."

  "Now that's true," Logan agreed. "Your mother is the best thing that ever happened to me. Because of her, I have you. I never thought I'd be lucky enough to have a son."

  Will snorted. "A son you are happy as a clam to throw away."

  "Dammit, that isn't true! Look, Will, I don't expect you to understand, but.. .well.. .the truth is that, for the most part, I'm plagued by bad luck." He threw a glance up toward the house and Caroline thought he might be looking to be rescued. Well, this time, he'd simply have to sink or swim. Will deserved to have his say.

  "To but it bluntly, Pa, that's bullshit. Mama loves you! Because of that alone, you're the luckiest man on earth."

  "I know that."

  "Then why are you leaving her?" Will screamed, his pain and anguish ringing in his voice. Caroline knew he was trying to be strong, but his voice broke when he asked, "Why are you leaving me?"

  "I don't want to, son." Logan hung his head in misery. "I just can't stay."

  "Then what Mrs. Peters needs to write about in her paper is that you're also the dumbest man in Texas because you are too blind to see your good luck. You're throwing away your family. You don't want us? Well, we don't want you, either. You may be the man who made me, but you're not my father."

  Logan's head snapped up. "I will always be your father, William."

  "No, you won't. If you were really a father, you'd want to stay. All you are is the man who wanted to pass some time with my mama, but didn't have the guts to stay around." Will dragged his sleeve beneath his nose, wiping away the evidence of his tears, then pointed toward the horizon. "So go. Just go. To hell with you, Lucky Logan Grey. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out."

  Will turned away from Logan and ran to the back of the yard where Sly was busy digging in the dirt. Will dropped to his knees, wrapped his arms around his dog's neck and with shoulders shaking, buried his face in his best friend's fur.

  Logan spat an ugly curse, then kicked the dog toy lying in the grass, sending it flying.

  Caroline turned away from the window, glanced in the mirror and found a handkerchief to dab at her own watery eyes. Those two poor, brokenhearted boys.

  She refused to think about her own broken heart.

  As she made her way downstairs, her gaze focused on his suitcase waiting at the foot of the staircase. When a lump formed in her throat, she swallowed hard. Was she doing the right thing for this family she loved? Should she ask him to stay?

  Logan entered the hallway from the kitchen looking as if Will had ripped h
is heart out. Oh, Logan.

  "Well, that went well," he said with a rueful, crooked smile that broke her heart all over again.

  "He has a hair-trigger temper just like his mama, I'm afraid, but he gets over it quickly, too."

  Logan nodded, sighed, then picked up his suitcase. "Caroline, I'm going to miss you."

  "I should hope so," she said with a quick grin she didn't feel to lighten the moment as much for herself as for him. Otherwise, she might break down and bawl and that simply wouldn't do.

  She went to him, hugged him hard, then pressed a quick, light kiss against his lips. "Godspeed and safe journey, Logan Grey. I hope you find Butch Cassidy and whatever else it is that you're searching for."

  He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. "Thanks." He cleared his throat. "Caroline, I... Take care. You and the boy, take care. If you need me, send for me, and I'll come back and fix the problem."

  Then you'll go again. You'll just keep going, keep running. You'll never stop. You'll never stay. Her hands hidden by the folds of her skirt, she clasped them so hard that her knuckles turned white. "You'd better go or you'll miss your train."

  He nodded and took two steps toward the front door before he pivoted, dropped his suitcase and pulled her into his arms. He gave her a long, thorough, heartbreaking kiss. When he finally lifted his head, he tugged his medallion from around his neck and slipped it over hers. Gruffly, he said, "Goodbye, Caroline."

  Using her last bit of strength, she stood in the doorway watching as he strode down the street. At the corner, he paused and looked back. The look on his face crushed her, and Caroline knew she would remember it for the rest of her life. He's the loneliest man I've ever seen.

  Knowing what he needed from her, Caroline smiled and waved. Then calmly, she stepped inside and shut the door. That's when the pain hit, fast and furious. Holding his medallion in a white-knuckled grip, she gasped a breath, whimpered and slid down the door to the ground. Bitterly, she wept. Foolishly, she wondered. Had she made the right choice?

 

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