"But Logan's coming with us, Grampa. Aren't you, Logan?"
"Sure am," Logan agreed with a false show of hearty enthusiasm. Inspiration struck. "Karena and I will follow you and your Grampa in my Jeep," he declared, "and we can load wood in both vehicles."
Otis's sour expression indicated he considered that one of the less appealing ideas he'd ever heard, but there was little he could say about it. Logan couldn't resist giving the glum old man a wide, victorious smile as he stalked past him and out the door.
One round for the professor, Logan thought gleefully, escorting Karena out to the Jeep for what he planned to be a slow, very slow, trip to wherever the wood lot was.
The rest of the day, however, was an unqualified victory for Otis.
Late that night, Logan slowly, with excruciating protests from muscles he'd forgotten he ever had, lowered his aching body into bed and dolefully admitted he'd been outworked and outsmarted and damn near killed by a backwoods logger nearly thirty years his senior.
Why had Logan's power saw been the only one that constantly broke down, forcing him to take on the job of lifting and loading the blocks onto the trucks singlehandedly?
He admitted it was his own false pride that made him refuse the gloves Otis offered until it was too late. His splintered hands burned as if they were on fire, and huge water blisters smarted on his palms.
Had it been an honest accident when Otis dropped his end of the huge log that Logan had been helping carry, and the shock waves had shuddered Logan from his boots right to the roots of his hair?
He knew for a fact that Otis had played dirty with the swede saw, when he asked Logan to take the other end and help cut down that dead giant of a tree. Otis had made Logan look like an idiot who'd never been on the working end of a damned saw before.
"Karena," Otis had ordered his daughter in mid afternoon, "that's enough loading for you for one day. You and Danny take the pickup home, the boy can unload and you can get supper started. Me and the professor here, we can cut these up and load the Jeep."
Karena had shot a trapped look Logan's way and done what her father said, leaving Logan alone with the diabolical old devil for the rest of the afternoon.
There hadn't been a single moment alone with Karena. Otis had stayed for supper and sat stolidly silent but determinedly present until almost midnight, and by the time he got up and left to drive home, Logan was cross eyed with exhaustion after the rigors of the day.
And Otis had assured them both he'd come by again in the morning.
Would that be before or after Danny routed him out for an invigorating swim, Logan wondered.
There had to be a way to outsmart the old buzzard and gel some time alone with Karena, but her own acceptance of the situation made it difficult for Logan to take a firm stand. Karena obviously hadn't had much practice at standing up to her father, and any resistance to his overbearing ways would have to come first from her.
Otis could prove to be a major stumbling block between himself and Karena, Logan thought dispiritedly.
He fell asleep pondering the problem.
Chapter Seven
"So how was your weekend?"
First thing on Monday morning the inevitable query came from Abigail.
Karena gave the plump little woman a baleful look before replying shortly, "Awful. How was yours?"
"Dull, but then most of my weekends are dull. I do my laundry, buy groceries, read romance novels, have a stiff shot of medicinal brandy to fortify me and then go and visit my mother. She's never dull, she loads me up with masses of guilt feelings and sends me on my way wishing I were an orphan, but apart from that—dull. What made yours so awful? It's not Mort, is it?"
Abigail knew all about Mort by now, and quite a lot about Danny, but nothing at all about Logan. Karena had mentioned the moose, and Max had filled in the rest at coffee breaks.
"Mort's fine, Danny, too." Karena thought of the endless Sunday she'd just spent with her father, her reluctant son and Logan, the four of them doggedly splitting and stacking in the shed all the logs they'd spent Saturday cutting up and hauling.
Otis had arrived early and stayed late, and at last Logan gave up and left to drive back to Itasca.
She'd never felt as frustrated in her entire life, or as helplessly angry at her father. Abigail wasn't the only one who wished she were an orphan, Karena thought grimly.
A truckload of logs came rumbling up, and the women went to work so it was lunchtime before they were able to talk again. Karena gathered up enough courage to say abruptly, "What's your mother like, Abigail? What is it about her that makes you feel guilty?"
Abigail shrugged, an uncharacteristically pensive look on her plump features. "Oh, I made the mistake years ago of letting my mother come first in my life," she said thoughtfully. "My dad died when I was seventeen. Mother had always been sort of delicate, and he'd protected her. So instead of going away to college as I'd planned, I stayed at home to look after her. One morning, I woke up and I was forty. She'd had a minor stroke that winter, and she was more dependent on me than ever. I could see the years ahead, endless and the same. Something snapped that day. I marched out and arranged for a minimal care unit for her in a nice new building the city was opening, and she's made me feel like a traitor ever since."
Abigail screwed her nose up and munched a carrot stick. "I hate these damn things. Why does society say women have to be thin? I'm bringing doughnuts for lunch tomorrow; to hell with dieting." Karena thought of her father, and the weekend he'd so successfully ruined.
"Why do you think they do that?" she asked passionately. "Why do you think parents hold on to you like that? Try to own you?"
Abigail shook her head tiredly. "God, I don't know. Maybe they figure if they let go, you'll stop loving them. Or that there's only so much love to go around, and if you give it to someone else, you take it away from them. I've thought about it, believe me, and the only thing you can do is go ahead and live your own life. Go on loving them, but be firm, establish your own rights." She gave her self-deprecating laugh. "Trouble is, I'm a damn slow learner."
Karena took a deep breath and blurted, "Abigail, would you, ah, do you want to come over for dinner? I don't suppose you'd want to stay the night. The moose can be an awful pest and Danny talks a lot."
Abigail beamed at her. "If you're inviting me over, I accept with pleasure. I thought you'd never get around to it, Karena. Tomorrow night?"
As easily as that, it was done,
Monday made Logan wonder why he'd ever agreed to Itasca.
Twenty three exuberant students poured into the camp by bus, car and motorcycle. They were all, in Logan's view, far too young to be in college. They acted as if they were here for a party, and Logan remembered why he hated teaching.
Except for rare exceptions, students didn't want to learn, they merely wanted to pass.
These kids were typical. They were irreverent and fastmouthed. The girls all giggled, the boys all jostled, and the lot of them were abysmally ignorant about what was actually in store for them during the six weeks ahead.
By ten past six Monday evening, Logan was exhausted. The demands of his first day as a teacher, added to the weekend spent chopping, sawing and carrying wood at Karena's, as well as too few hours of sleep the night before, in a cabin infested with mosquitoes, all had taken their toll on him.
Years of research studies hadn't prepared him at all for a headlong leap back into the rigors of classroom teaching.
Without the classroom, he reminded himself dismally, gazing around at the cluster of primitive buildings that constituted the headquarters for the forestry sessions. Unless weather conditions were terrible, most of the time he'd be teaching outside in the open air. And the lavatories, the showers and the sleeping arrangements that the camp offered were also what might be classified as open air.
He sorely missed the comforts of his apartment, particularly the Jacuzzi, the steam room and the armchair in front of the television.
Later, he sat quietly at the back of the dining hall as Ranger Brian Sutton gave a lecture about the rules of the park and what the ranger service expected and hoped for from the students during their stay. Obviously, he had no more illusions than Logan about the students.
"When it gets dark up here, it gets dark, and we don't want any collisions between you people coming home happy from the Northway Pub and our pine trees. The pines don't move."
Logan liked the pragmatic young ranger, and after Brian's talk, they had coffee together.
"Many moose in this area?" Logan asked at one point.
"Quite a few," Brian said. "Here and north to the Canadian border is moose country."
Logan told him about Mort, and asked if Brian had any ideas for helping the calf learn the skills he needed.
Several students were listening, and soon a lively discussion ensued about wild animals being domesticated.
All in all, it turned into not a bad evening, Logan admitted to himself later. If you had to live without a Jacuzzi, a TV, an armchair and a steam room, at least conversation took your mind off your misery.
That evening proved to be a high point in involvement and participation on the part of the students, however. The rest of the week, their only show of enthusiasm during his attempts at teaching them botany and ecology came when each day ended and they figured out who was riding with whom out to the Northway.
There was a staff meeting that lasted late Friday night, and it was early Saturday morning when he finally wheeled the Jeep into Karena's driveway.
This time, he lifted her in his arms when she came out to meet him. Danny was down at the lake with Mort, and he kissed her until both of them were breathless.
"That week was three months long," he said when she finally pulled back a little and smiled up at him.
"How are your hands?" she asked, turning one over to inspect the palm, and to his great delight planting a kiss there.
"They're sore here as well, and here, and here," he teased, and she wrinkled her nose at him.
"Come in and have coffee. I'm making breakfast. Danny will be up any minute."
The next hour was full of laughter. Danny rattled off everything Mort had done in thepast week.
"He's learned to use his nose to open the screen door, and now he walks right into the house all the time, and Mom's friend Abigail nearly died laughing when he came in last Wednesday, didn't she, Mom?"
That was when they heard the now familiar sound of Otis's car in the yard.
"Oh, heck, it's Grampa again," Danny moaned, and Karena shot him a quelling look as Otis came in the kitchen door.
He fixed Logan with a look that seemed to silently say, you here again? Aloud, he said ungraciously, "Morning, professor."
Danny scooped up the leftover pancakes on the plate and slipped past his grandfather and out the door.
Otis grunted with displeasure. "Still letting that boy spoil that wild animal, I see," he growled. Then he turned to his daughter. "Gonna tackle the roof on the washhouse today, Kari, get it fixed before winter sets in."
Karena's heart sank. That meant he'd be around all day, as well as all of tomorrow, just as he was last weekend. There wouldn't be a moment alone with Logan, and he'd keep Danny running every second, and she'd end up spending all her time cooking. And they didn't laugh with Otis around, either.
"You have to establish your own rights," Abigail had stated.
Something rebelled in Karena.
She wouldn't let Otis do it this time. She wouldn't let him ruin her weekend this way.
She drew a deep shaky breath, and she was amazed at how calm her voice sounded.
"I'm sorry, Pop,.but I've made plans for the weekend. Maybe you could do the roof on weekdays instead. Danny's here to help you. It's just not convenient to start it today. Or tomorrow, either," she added with a gulp that belied her attempt at calmness.
The look of utter astonishment on her father's face faded in an instant. Then his eyes narrowed and his jaw set stubbornly. Watching quietly, Logan was fascinated by the sudden similarity between Karena's expression and that of her father. The determined set of both jaws was identical.
"Since when does work wait until it's convenient around here, Kari? Roof needs fixing, I'll do it today."
"No, Pop." Karena's voice was stronger this time. Logan moved over to stand beside her in silent but obvious support for whatever way she decided to handle the confrontation. Her insides were quaking while she struggled to remain outwardly calm. She said firmly, "No, Pop. No roof this weekend."
A part of her marveled at her own courage, while another cringed at this show of rebellion. But she refused to back down.
"Logan and I and Danny have... have made plans, and we're not changing them. And I won't be able to make Sunday dinner for you tomorrow, either." That just popped out. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, she thought giddily. This was tantamount to insurrection, for sure.
Otis's weather beaten countenance grew mottled. "And I suppose that means you're going to miss church tomorrow as well? We missed last Sunday, had the wood to get in, but seems to me you ought to go tomorrow. What sort of example are you setting for that boy of yours? Have a thought for him, why don't you, Kari?"
Otis sounded for all the world as if Karena had suddenly chosen a life of prostitution, and she had a wild desire to giggle at his dramatics. Instead, she did her best to stay reasonable. "Danny has attended Sunday school and church nearly every Sunday of his life. It's not going to turn him into a delinquent, missing tomorrow morning, Pop."
Otis gave her the look that had always shriveled her into obedience in the past. When it seemed to have no effect, he harumphed several times and turned melodramatically to the door. "Easy to see I'm not wanted here."
Karena could have sworn there was a tremor in his voice. "Oh, Pop, for heaven's sake." Karena didn't know whether to laugh or scream as Otis strode out of the room. The screen door slammed behind him, and in another moment the car motor coughed into life.
She and Logan stood tensely listening as the noise of the departing vehicle faded, and Logan released the breath he was holding. He turned and gathered Karena into his arms, feeling her body tremble against him with delayed stress and emotion. The room itself seemed charged with the residue of angry feelings the scene had created.
"Was all that for me, Karena, or was it for yourself?" he asked quietly.
"For us," she whispered after a moment's thought. "For you, and me, and Danny. I just want us to have a fair chance to get to know each other in our own way. Pop is a stubborn man, and I'm afraid he's not a very happy person."
"Why is that, do you think?" He was genuinely interested, and she swallowed hard. It seemed impossible to try and explain her father even to herself.
Logan drew her over to the couch by the window, and gently urged her down beside him, his arm around her shoulders.
"Tell me, Karena. I need to understand your father better if we're ever going to make a go of this."
It was hard to know where to begin.
"I don't fully understand him myself," she confessed. "I never was really close to Pop when I was growing up. Remember I told you Pop and Gabe were partners when I was little? Well, Gabe was around a lot, and I loved him. He was easy to love, different than my father, not so stern all the time. Of course I loved Pop, too, but Gabe was the one who took me camping, taught me logrolling, spent time with me, fun time. Pop didn't seem to know how to have fun."
Logan gave Karena an encouraging nod when her voice faltered and she continued with her story.
"Then there was the big fight between him and Pop over buying equipment, and Gabe left. I didn't see him again until two years ago. In the meantime, I grew up, got married and then, after Eric was killed, I moved back home. Mom and Pop kept Danny for me while I got my training, and for several years afterward, we lived with them, and Pop was the same with Danny he'd been with me, stern and strict. It wasn't the best of arrangements. I want
ed it different for Danny. I guess everybody has their own ideas about how kids ought to be raised."
Logan gestured understandingly. "So then you moved here?" he queried gently, and she nodded against his shoulder.
"I moved out as soon as this house was even half ready, and it was wonderful at first, being on my own with Danny. Then my mother got sick, and when she..." Karena's voice caught, and she cleared her throat before she could go on. "When Mom died, Pop was so lost and alone, sort of broken, that I encouraged him to spend a lot of time over here. I thought being around his grandson would help him. But he has this way of taking over, of trying to manage our lives. I never learned to stand up to him, except over Gabe. He was furious with me for letting Gabe move into the cabin across the lake, but for once I didn't give in. Pop's not the easiest person to argue with."
Logan thought of how she'd stood up to her father, and a small grin played around his mouth.
"I'd say you hold up pretty fine in the clinches."
He hugged her hard, loving the feel of her in his arms. His body was reacting to her closeness in an alarming, urgent fashion that had nothing to do with the solace he'd intended to give, and outside, Danny's voice sounded from a distance away, obviously chiding Mort, and reluctantly Logan got up.
"Let's get at these dishes. I'm taking you and Danny into Northome tonight for dinner, and he's promised to introduce me to Gabe today, so there's no time to waste. Do I wash or dry, sergeant?"
During the playful banter that ensued, Karena pretended to forget what had occurred with her father, and Logan did, too.
But both were acutely aware that a giant step had been taken in their relationship with each other. They'd stood together in a crisis, however minor, and supported each other through it.
The remainder of that Saturday actually took on the idyllic aspects Logan had imagined life in the deep woods would provide.
Karena packed a lunch, and with Mort capering along behind, they hiked through the rustling autumn woods to a beaver pond Danny had found. Karena had her camera, and she captured shot after shot of the busy animals ducking in and out of their half-submerged den, and several of an unsuspecting Danny and Logan.
Follow A Wild Heart (romance,) Page 12
