Secrets and Lies

by N. C. Anderson

  Logan slipped off the bike and wiped his face with the towel draped across his shoulder. “She went home thirty minutes ago."

  "Please give me some towels,” she insisted, her eyes wide awake, her tone higher than before. Selena now stood on the ledge, her gown clinging to every tempting curve. “I have to get home."

  Logan wrapped two large towels around her and helped her from the pool. “I'll take you."

  "What?” she said nervously.

  "You'll never make it as wiped-out as you are. I said I'm taking you home."

  "I don't need you to take me anywhere,” she objected. “I feel much better now, and if I didn't, I could call my mother."

  "Your mother is attending our high school team's first football skirmish. She's busy."

  Selena frowned, then looked at him warily. “How do you know that?"

  "She called earlier to find out if I'd seen you yet. Della told me she'd be watching her grandson play ball at his practice if we needed her."

  Selena padded barefoot into the hall and went directly into the exam room. Her limp seemed less pronounced, her spine straighter. She closed the door in his face; still, he could hear her muffled, “Oh, I was supposed to be there. Gregg probably won't be mad at me over a practice—and you haven't signed these papers."

  It was on his schedule to be at the school, too, helping to coach the practice. But he wouldn't have missed this for the world and the team was in capable hands. “I'll sign them when you get out here,” he reassured her through the solid barrier. “Then I'll take you home."

  Behind the door, and trying hard to ignore him, Selena dropped her towels in a heap and tossed the sopping gown on top of them, then slipped her silk panties off and wrung them out over the towels before jabbing them into her purse. She had to get out of here before Logan touched her again. His skilled exploring of the scar on her hip, the way his gentle massage relieved her pain, reminded her of her potent love for him and what his powerful hands could do to her. Mesmerized as she'd been, she was still certain there was more in his touch than simple massage therapy. If he'd carried it further, she wouldn't have wanted to stop him.

  Irritating her most was just that; she hadn't wanted to. Selena hoped he hadn't noticed the desires he'd aroused in her, because revitalized wounds and wanting him made her feel completely disoriented. It seemed she would never stop being a fool when it came to Patrick Logan.

  Selena tried to pull the toe of her panty hose over her foot, but the nylon stuck to her damp skin as if it were wet tissue paper. Rolling them into a ball, she stuffed them in her purse with her panties then yanked on her skirt and half slip. Being naively shortsighted a second time didn't come across on her list of preferred things to do. The solution seemed simple; keep her mind and body away from Logan.

  She fastened the last button on her blouse, gathered her purse and briefcase and marched resolutely into the hallway. Once she had Logan's signature, she could forget this whole day.

  She found him standing beside the long counter writing in a file. “I'm glad to see you already have a pen in hand.” She slipped papers from her briefcase and placed them on the counter, doing her best to avoid looking into his steel-gray eyes. Eyes that could persuade her to do anything.

  She glanced at their surroundings. “This hardly seems a place I'd find a Harvard man."

  "UCLA,” he corrected, closing the file and enjoying her look of confusion.

  "UCLA,” she repeated; remembering the reason he'd started dating her in the first place. “How did that happen?” She couldn't begin to imagine the answer. He'd told her once that Logan doctors must be Harvard graduates if they wanted to work with the family.

  "I preferred California.” And the people, and all that means anything to me, he added to himself.

  Selena waved her hand at their surroundings. “And this place? It's quite different from the other offices I visited today."

  "The system doesn't work for everyone, Selena. It doesn't work real well for the poor, and not at all for people who want to pay their own way.” He ripped a piece of paper from a pad on the counter. “Most of these people wouldn't be welcome in the offices you visited, and this place is my way of correcting that. I intend to keep it going as long as possible."

  "I believe your family hopes you fail so you'll have to join them."

  Logan nodded. “They didn't care for UCLA either.” He shrugged. “Time will tell."

  Going against his father's wishes, and the calm assurance that seemed to surround him, was not the same Logan she'd dated. Selena could see from Logan's tightlipped expression that he no longer wanted to talk about it.

  "I've arranged for you to use the therapy room every day,” he said, handing her a prescription. “Ellie will know exactly which machines I want you to use and for how long."

  "I don't need this,” she protested, handing him his prescription for a codeine painkiller.

  He tore the paper in tiny pieces and laid them on the counter. “Good. I wanted to see if you'd been hooked on any medication before starting your therapy."

  His voice was low but strong, compassionate but knowing. All the things she'd ever thought about him from the time he protected her when she was six years old to the first time they had made love came immediately to mind. She also remembered that, while pinned in the crushed car, fire creeping closer to her, seeing Daniel and his chauffeur lifeless, and with death hanging over her shoulder, she'd learned how it felt to have no sense of hope for survival. Life was too darned short not to aim for the brass ring. Her brass ring stood right there in front of her. The man she loved; the only man she'd ever loved.

  Emotions had her reaching out to him. But before her fingers could touch his arm, Logan took her hand, unbuttoned the cuff of her blouse and peeled it back. His usually full lips formed a grim line as he examined the elongated burn scar that started at the tip of her little finger and ended near her wrist. After buttoning her sleeve, he nudged her hair away from her left ear, exposing the two small scars she kept hidden near the base of her ear.

  "It was bad, wasn't it,” he said huskily. Ellie had told him she'd heard it had been a fiery accident. He could almost feel the pain in the scar along her hand.

  "No,” she said, her throat tightening. “It was worse."

  The next thing she knew, her cheek rested comfortably against his shoulder; his hands rotated soothingly across her spine. Selena closed her eyes, enjoying each second, knowing if she didn't take up the challenge for what she wanted, she may never be this close to him again.

  Selena heard the clinic door open and slowly pulled away from Logan. His body tensed when he saw who came beyond the entry, and Selena wondered why.

  "Dad,” Logan said, his tone cool. “You don't usually go slumming. Is there something I can do for you?” He had a feeling that his offer on the land was the catalyst bringing his father to his door.

  "Patrick, Mrs. Flynn,” Brian Logan greeted. “We need to talk privately, Patrick.” The look he aimed at Selena was enough to cause frostbite, but she managed to stifle the urge to shiver.

  Logan signed his name to several of the papers Selena had given him then handed them to her. He gestured toward his office, not wanting their inevitable debate to start in front of Selena. “I'm taking Mrs. Flynn home, Dad, so let's make it quick."

  Fascinated by the formality between father and son, Selena watched them go. When Logan's door closed, she gathered her things and hurried to her car. One encounter with Doctor Brian in a day was one encounter more than she needed. Driving home wouldn't be a problem. His massage, the hot pool, and his holding her compassionately had mutually worked to reduce the pain in her hip to a dull throb.

  She smiled as she slid into her car. Logan wanted her in therapy every day. It sounded like a delightful idea. Then a new thought shoved into her mind. What if she allowed herself to get close to him and he rejected her? He'd done it once—he could do it again. Could she handle it gracefully? There seemed only one way to find o
ut.

  But, then, there was Gregg she must consider. By the time she got home Gregg would be there waiting for an explanation. They had always shared their feelings; nevertheless she wasn't certain if he was old enough to understand the risks she would take in forgiving. Selena understood risks; she wanted to understand forgiveness, even though she already believed that nothing could be much more chancy.

  Her preferred-things list didn't have deliberately placing her head on a chopping block written on it either.

  * * * *

  Logan walked behind his desk and sat on his over-stuffed office chair—his one personal extravagance, the newest piece of furniture in the room, and the most comfortable. “Have a seat, Dad."

  Brian eyed the worn cushions on the chair Logan indicated. “I'll stand, thank you anyway."

  Logan shrugged. He noticed his father's complexion seemed abnormally reddened. He'd looked similar when Logan dropped out of Harvard after a year. “Looks to me like your blood pressure is raising, steadily."

  "I didn't come to this den-of-disease to discuss my blood pressure."

  "Then, why did you come?"

  "Six of your creditors called me this morning, Patrick.” He looked pointedly around the room. “Although this room doesn't show much improvement, it seems you're in debt well beyond your assets. Let's see, money for custom-made therapy equipment, money for exam-room tables, etcetera, and it seems you haven't paid the lab bills for a month."

  "They had no business calling you,” Logan said, irritated. Everything Logan ever did seemed to end up like a front-page story on Brian Logan's desk. Maybe he needed to change his name, or spray gray on his hair.

  "You're right, however, they probably thought I'd pay the bills. I set them straight immediately."

  "I sold fifty head of calves this morning. It'll cover my bills until—"

  "Until next month,” Brian interrupted. “Get yourself together, Patrick. Close this God-forsaken place, and come into the family practice where you belong."

  "I thought the practice only accepted Harvard graduates,” Logan pointed out. He would sell newspapers on the street before he'd join the Logan ice palace. “Besides, you and I both understand how differently we see the world."

  If anything, the red in Brian's face heightened. “You'd better think about my offer. I won't keep making it forever."

  Logan nodded, yet he didn't believe it, and he didn't want to debate it. He wanted to check on Selena and make certain she was feeling stronger. “Are you finished with what you wanted to tell me?"

  Brian took the handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbed at his brow as he crossed the room. “That woman out there. She just lost a wealthy husband; now she's prowling our area looking for another one. I'll never allow Mrs. Flynn to get her hands on any Logan assets.” He opened the door. “Fair warning, Patrick. Don't get involved with her."

  At first it astonished him that his father recalled anything about Selena, then Logan remembered that Daniel Flynn had once been a close family friend. Time, education made no difference. It would always be, play by Brian Logan's rules, or lose the game, he thought. But, for the first time in many years, his father's words matched the doubts already forming in Logan's mind. Selena had turned from scooting away from him to touching him. Why?

  "Selena Flynn is an agent that I'm doing business with and a therapy patient—nothing more. At any rate, you know how I react to ultimatums, Dad. About the same way you do."

  Brian ignored Logan as usual. “Think about what I've said about the practice. I can't see you staying above water much longer."

  Logan followed his father into the waiting room area and watched him leave.

  He scanned the room for Selena. Her briefcase no longer sat on the counter; she was gone.

  Unexpected disappointment startled him. Then he smiled. Blind obedience wasn't his best trait either.

  * * * *

  Selena could see the lights on in her house fifteen minutes before she reached it. Her log-cabin style home sat on a hill surrounded by five acres of oak trees; a mere five miles from the land Logan had just purchased. The rear veranda overlooked the valley, and at night the lights in Fresno and Clovis and Valencia Cove looked like a million multi-colored stars. It seemed the perfect place for her and Gregg to make a fresh start.

  She'd asked her mother to move in with them; only, Della had refused. Della still preferred the tiny house Selena had lived in as a child. Although some remodeling had improved it, nothing could make it a home. There were moments when, even though he'd been dead for six years, she felt as though her father could come staggering through the door any minute.

  Selena parked the car in the garage and entered the house through the kitchen doorway. She could hear the thumping sounds of someone tossing and catching a ball somewhere in the house. She headed for Gregg's room.

  Before Selena could get there, her packed-with-energy miniature Schnauzer Hans came bounding from Gregg's room, his red ball gripped tightly between his teeth. “Hi ya, Hans,” she said, rubbing his ears, then taking the ball from him. “Go get it.” Selena tossed the ball down the long hallway. She and the dog followed it until they stopped in front of Gregg's bedroom.

  His door stood open. He rested against the headboard of his bed, spinning a football into the air above him then catching it. Cisco, a huge steel-gray cat who had come with the house, lay on his back by Gregg, watching him sleepily.

  "Hi, buddy, how did the skirmish turn out?"

  "You missed it, Mom.” His words sounded nonchalant, yet his eyes reflected his disappointment.

  "Sorry,” she said, crossing the room. “I braved one of my worst nightmares today, but I sold the property."

  Gregg appeared to forget his disappointment and sat up straight as Hans leaped on the bed and flopped alongside him, gnawing on his ball. “Does that mean we'll be able to buy the new stereo we were looking at?"

  Selena sat down at the foot of his bed, laughing. “Probably. We'll get a nice commission.” A commission they could use. They had little from Daniel's estate because it would take several more months to clear the court, the lawyers, and probably a million other little details.

  "You see Doctor Logan again?” he asked, his tone much lower than usual, his fingers unconsciously toying with Hans’ ear.

  "I,” Selena told him carefully, “saw several Doctor Logans. And most of them were not happy to see me."

  Gregg looked quizzical. “Why would you have to see so many of them? And why wouldn't they be happy to see you?"

  Selena watched Cisco roll over and crawl on his belly toward Hans. “It seems Doctor Patrick Logan is buying the land from eight, or so, other Logans. It's not as complicated as it seems, though I'll be glad when the deal has closed.” Selena kicked off her shoes. “I believe they remembered that years ago at least one of them wanted me to keep a healthy distance from Logan. Nothing has changed."

  "Will you tell him?"

  "No—not yet anyway.” Selena paused. “What do you think about it?"

  "I think I would like to get to know him first. If he doesn't like us, it would be dumb to tell him. We've never needed him before, so why mess with him now?"

  "I'm going to mess with him, Gregg.” Selena waited nervously while her words sank in. She would do nothing to hurt Gregg. Yet, she had to do this.

  "Why, Mom?” His expression looked confused, leaving Selena to feel elated when he didn't look mad or hurt.

  "I'm not sure I can explain it."

  Gregg folded his legs Indian style, leaned his elbows on his thighs, and twirled the football slowly with his hands. “I'm not a little kid, give it a try."

  No, he wasn't a little kid. She couldn't help wishing he weren't growing so darned tall, so darned muscular—so darned fast. “All right,” she said doubtfully. “Maybe I'll be able to understand it after I've explained it to you."

  "Mom."

  "All right. But I am not kidding about not comprehending the situation. When I was pushing seve
nteen, I fell in love with Patrick Logan, Gregg. After seeing him again, I realized my feelings haven't changed, even though I can't say that I could belong in his world any better now than I did long ago. Although I didn't mention a name, I have always told you how I felt about Logan. You also know I did my best as your dad's wife. Daniel was twenty-five years older than me, yet, he offered me a way out of poverty, gave me an education, and loved you."

  "Yeah,” Gregg interrupted. “Dad did a lot for us, but you took care of him and did all that work when he had parties and stuff."

  "I did those things because he wanted me to—I also did them because I wanted to. Daniel was a loving, generous man.” He had been, too, but he'd married her because they'd made a bargain. They had all three lived up to their bargain. “That portion of our lives is over, Gregg. We both must prod ourselves ahead. Only, I'm hung up with questions. I need to learn all there is to know about Logan before I can be free to do anything else. Maybe it's a little like your needing to know if you can play better football than all the NFL running backs."

  "I guess I kinda understand, Mom, but I don't think I like Doctor Logan. If he does one thing to hurt you, I'll know I don't like him.” He paused. “The guys say he's a great football coach. If he doesn't like you, will he stop coaching the freshman team because of me?"

  Selena leaned forward and ruffled his dark brown hair. “Doctor Logan must love football, or he wouldn't be coaching. Let's not worry about bridges we haven't come to yet."

  Gregg frowned, shrugging his wide shoulders. “If you're going to be seeing him, will it mean you'll ignore my football games?"

  Selena treasured Gregg's straightforward way of handling her. He knew how to give her verbal hugs, how to keep them communicating when he didn't feel right about something.

  "If you remember to give me our agreed-on buzz-hug each day, I can't see how I could possibly ignore you. I don't intend to miss your practices or games unless it's unavoidable. And as long as you keep buzzing me about your feelings, how can we go wrong?"

  She pushed off the bed, lifted her shoes from the floor, and padded stocking-footed across the room. “If Logan and I don't get along, I want you to remember I took the risks on purpose.” She motioned at the football, spinning between his hands. “Just like you're risking a black eye, along with a broken neck. Also, you need to decide whether or not you like him from within yourself, not from listening to me, or anyone else. And another also, I've just created a new family mandate. I won't be telling Logan anything. It'll be your option.” Selena had always known this choice belonged to Gregg and no one else.