All of Me

by Leeanna Morgan

  ***

  “I hear the birds and the bees have been buzzing?”

  Logan ignored the grin on Dylan’s face and retied his shoelace. They’d been running for the last twenty minutes, alternating between a fast jog and full throttle power. Dylan called it endurance training, Logan called it torture.

  He stood up and stretched his back. “I know why you wanted to do an Ironman Competition, but why did you have to rope me into being your training buddy?”

  Dylan’s lips twitched. “You’re the only person I know who’s mad enough to run forty miles a week for fun.”

  “How’s the rest of your training going?”

  “Biking is okay. Swimming is on hold while the indoor pool’s being resurfaced. I’ll be back to normal next week. You wouldn’t be changing the subject would you?”

  Logan took a water bottle out of his backpack. “Of course not. Do you want to keep running or are you more interested in talking?”

  Dylan laughed. “Running could be safer.”

  Logan finished his drink then followed Dylan. Sypes Canyon was one of the most popular running and hiking tracks in Bozeman. The wooded canyon was on the west side of the Bridger Range. Two miles into their run they’d stopped at the lookout, enjoying incredible views of Bozeman and the surrounding valley. They were up to the next part of their run, the track that would take them further into the canyon.

  Logan wiped the sweat out of his eyes and got back into an easy rhythm, catching up with Dylan in no time at all.

  “How long have you been seeing Tess? And before you make some wise ass comment, I don’t mean in the café.”

  Logan ignored Dylan. He kept moving, dodging tree roots and stones on the trail. “How come you’re not out of breath?”

  “Must be getting fit.”

  Logan huffed out a burst of laughter. He’d never known a time when Dylan wasn’t fit. The man was a machine, ready for anything life could throw at him. Well, almost anything. What Dylan had gone through in Afghanistan was horrific. He’d been on the receiving end of some of the cruelest treatment Logan had heard about, and he was still recovering.

  Dylan also happened to be the most stubborn person Logan knew. If he didn’t tell Dylan something about Tess, he’d never stop bugging him. “Tess has been staying with me for five days. Mom gets back tomorrow.”

  “Damn.”

  That’s what Logan thought too. He loved his mom, but he loved Tess more. He was still getting used to it, the loving thing. Tess didn’t know how he felt about her. He didn’t know how to say the words, but he’d been trying damn hard to show her in other ways.

  He’d never loved another person quite like he loved Tess. She made him laugh, made him content. Five years ago, if anyone had told him being content was important he would have laughed in their face. But just lately that feeling had become important. He wasn’t the same adrenaline junkie that used to leap off tall buildings and throw themselves under burning bridges. He’d put himself and others in danger and he wouldn’t do it again.

  A tree branch snapped back and whacked him in the face. “Hey, watch what you’re doing.”

  Dylan laughed. “Don’t run so close. So where’s this thing with Tess going?”

  “What is this? Twenty questions?”

  “If I could get one straight answer out of you I’d be happy. Twenty is pushing it.”

  Logan picked up a stick and poked Dylan in the back. “It’s going nowhere while I’m running with you.”

  “It’s a Saturday morning tradition. You can’t mess with tradition.”

  “Some of us might have other traditions we want to work on.”

  Dylan groaned. “That’s right. Remind me I’m not getting any.”

  “Any what?”

  Dylan veered to the right of the track and Logan nearly ran straight into a woman walking her dog.

  “You want to warn me when there are other people up ahead?”

  “You’re whining again,” Dylan said. “What do you have that I don’t?”

  “Tess?”

  “The man’s an A-grade genius.” Dylan slowed down. “Have the reporters backed off?”

  “Mostly. The police have caught up with the senator.”

  “About time,” Dylan huffed. “What’s Tess going to do now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Dylan stopped at a bend in the track and grabbed a drink out of his pack. “Is she going to stay in Bozeman?”

  Logan didn’t understand why she wouldn’t. “It’s her home.”

  “For now. She’s lived all over the world. Why would she stay when the senator is behind bars?”

  “Because she likes it.”

  “Would you live here if you had a choice?”

  Logan looked at the trees and wildflowers surrounding them. It was peaceful. You couldn’t hear any traffic, just the buzz of insects and the squawk of a few birds.

  He kicked the edge of a stone and flipped it off the track. “When I came to Montana I’d run out of options. What happened in Afghanistan screwed me up. I couldn’t think straight and I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Now I know.”

  “And?”

  “I’m staying. This place is good for me. Tess is good for me.”

  Dylan stuck his hands on his hips. “Sounds like you’ve got everything sorted.”

  “Not quite. I’ve read the letter from the nurse in Afghanistan.”

  “The one Pastor Steven gave you?”

  “Yeah. Abiba’s family didn’t die. They’re staying near an orphanage in Nau Deh. Other children made it out of the village alive, too. And that’s not all.”

  “You’ve been asking people questions again, haven’t you?”

  Logan started jogging. When he’d first arrived in Bozeman, Dylan thought he was crazy. Not in a paranoid, psychotic sense, but in a general what-do-you-think-you’re doing sense. Logan wasn’t convinced Abiba had been a suicide bomber. It was easier to blame the whole tragic morning on her and not look any further. For more than six months after the bombing, he’d tried to find answers to questions no one wanted to talk about. He’d almost given up, but the letter from Afghanistan had changed everything.

  He turned around and made sure Dylan was following him. “I contacted one of my buddies from the counseling sessions I went to in Seattle. Jerry saw Abiba just before the explosion. She was carrying a box when she walked into the school. Suicide bombers don’t usually carry boxes.”

  “Nice try, but you’re wrong,” Dylan said. “Boxes hide bombs. Suicide bombers carry bombs.”

  “But she was a good kid. We were waiting to hear if she’d been granted an American student visa. Why the hell would she get mixed up with the Taliban?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I don’t know.” Logan stopped running. “She knew the statistics as well as we did. She was an official government interpreter. She had a ninety percent chance of being killed as soon as the Army left. It wouldn’t have mattered how much she helped her village. She had a target on her back and she knew it.”

  Dylan started stretching his calf muscles. “Maybe she’d been blackmailed. Who knows what makes some people do things they don’t want to. We’ve been there, we know what it’s like. She didn’t stand a chance once the school was a target.”

  “I need answers. I need to be able to tell her family that she was a good person.”

  “Even if it’s not the truth?”

  Logan shoved his hands on his hips. “It is the truth. She was a good person.”

  “Looks to me like you’ve got to find people who can answer your questions.”

  “At the rate I’m going I’ll be an old man before I find out what really happened.” Logan took a deep breath and pushed the tragedy of what happened in Afghanistan to one side.

  He needed to focus on what he was doing now. As he looked at the trees surrounding him, he thought about Tess and how he felt about her. He thought about the good things she’d brought into his life, and
he thought about what he’d miss if she wasn’t there.

  Dylan stretched his other leg. “Your face gets wrinkly when you’re thinking too much. Makes you look twenty years older.”

  “Smart ass.” Logan puffed his chest out. “Age makes no difference. I have it on good authority from Tess that I’m a stud.”

  Dylan lost his balance and landed on his butt. “That’s too much information.”

  “How’s the hunt for the perfect woman going?”

  Dylan rolled to his feet. “It’d be fine if I didn’t mind touching people. Makes kissing a challenge.”

  Even though he had a small smile on his face, Logan knew his friend didn’t find anything funny in what he’d just said. Dylan’s parting gift from Afghanistan had pretty much stuffed his ability to tolerate the slightest touch from anyone. Even around Logan, he was hypersensitive to any form of affection. But Dylan did feel things, maybe deeper than most.

  Logan looked closely at his friend. “I take it you’re still single then?”

  “You could say that.”

  “You need help finding someone?”

  Dylan got a wary look in his eyes. “It depends who you’ve got in mind.”

  Logan smiled. “I might know three single women who’d be perfect for you.”

  “I’m not greedy. One would do.” He glanced at Logan, then frowned. “You’ve got to be kidding? You want to fix me up with someone in The Bridesmaids Club?”

  “What’s wrong with that? They’re all hot, single women. The only person that’s off limits is Tess.”

  “Forget it,” Dylan muttered. “They’re not my type.”

  Logan had a feeling they were, but Dylan was too unsure of himself to try. “Okay, Romeo. What do you say we finish our run then have brunch at the café?”

  “You sound like a city slicker. Last one back to the truck pays.” Dylan tore down the track with Logan hot on his heels.

  They might not have cured the world’s troubles, but their run had made Logan even more determined to find out what had happened to Abiba. And after he’d given that some thought he’d concentrate on Dylan and Tess.

  His friend was lonely and Logan knew from personal experience how soul destroying that could be. And then there was Tess…she took the darkness in Logan’s life away and made him appreciate each day. He loved her and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it.