Travis looked defiant for a moment, but then the defiance faded. “Wherever I could. Garages. You wouldn’t believe how many people use ’em for storage instead of their cars. Factory warehouses. Security is lousy on most of them.”
“Travis, did you ever get hurt other than the mugging?” Meg’s caring voice was a request for information rather than a judgment.
Logan waited for the answer, every muscle in his body tense. It was the question he’d wanted to ask ever since Travis had come home.
Although Meg had asked the question, Travis directed his answer to his father. “No. I got a few bumps and bruises now and then when someone tried to steal my stuff, but I never got hurt. Not till the mugging.”
Logan let out his pent-up breath. “Thank God.”
Meg took his hand, and Travis saw it. But he didn’t comment.
A short time later, the rain let up. Logan watched Meg carefully as he let Travis lead and he followed Meg. The wet rocks and mud made the going slower than usual. Every fifteen minutes or so, Travis checked behind him to make sure he wasn’t getting too far ahead.
Logan had time to think as they hiked. The full impact of Travis’s misconceptions hit him. He couldn’t believe that for four years his son had believed that not only was Logan responsible for Shelley’s death, but that he’d never wanted a child to begin with. No wonder Travis’s behavior had been such a trial. No wonder he held such hostility. Logan had compounded the problem by cracking down harder, thinking more discipline had been the answer.
What kind of a father knew so little about his child that he couldn’t see the signs, that he wasn’t intuitive enough to get to the bottom of the problem? Travis had a right to be angry, resentful and distant. They’d lost so much ground. Logan wasn’t sure they’d ever be able to recover. Now that he knew the root of the problem, he still didn’t have the answers. All he could do was try to be as open and honest with his son as he could, and hope Travis would do the same.
He couldn’t help asking himself if he and Shelley should have divorced. Would she be alive today if they had? The guilt for coaxing her into marriage sometimes seemed like a ten-ton weight. All those years, there had been a separateness between them, a tension that he thought they’d hidden but obviously not well enough. Travis had felt it on some level. That’s why now he believed so easily that he’d been a mistake, that they’d never really wanted him.
As Logan, Meg and Travis arrived at the area where Logan had parked the car, they were quiet. He guessed Meg just wanted to soak in a hot tub. His own jeans were wet and uncomfortable, and he figured Travis itched to get home, get changed and go meet Kyle. The silence lasted as they climbed into the car and Logan drove down the winding road that led out of the trail area. They’d only traveled about a quarter of a mile when Logan spotted the felled tree blocking the narrow road.
He stopped and considered their options. Opening his door, he said, “I’m going to take a look.”
A few minutes later, Travis and Meg stood beside him. Thinking about the way he’d handled his son over the years, instead of making a unilateral decision Logan asked, “What do you think?”
The teenager looked surprised that Logan wanted his opinion. He shrugged. “We might be able to move it.”
Logan smiled. “If we’re lucky, it’s hollow.”
“No such luck,” Travis mumbled as he gave the trunk a shove with his foot.
“What can I do?” Meg asked.
“Get back in the car and relax. Travis and I will see what we can do.”
When she hesitated, Travis encouraged her. “Go on. Dad and I will take care of this.”
Relieved her help wasn’t needed, relieved the two MacDonald men seemed to want to work together instead of backing away from each other, she settled in the front seat and laid her head against the headrest. A wave of nausea washed over her. She was tired. So tired.
The nausea subsided. This had been an emotional day. More so for Logan and Travis, but she’d felt caught in the midst of it. She didn’t know what the two MacDonalds had said to each other out in the rain, but something was different—especially the way they looked at each other. Now they seemed to see each other.
For Logan’s sake, as well as Travis’s, she hoped they could find some common ground.
Fighting her fatigue, she lifted her head and watched. Travis and Logan used a long branch as a lever, then rolled and pushed the tree trunk back far enough that the car could fit through. When they returned to the car, they wore satisfied expressions, as if they’d accomplished something.
After calling in a report on the fallen tree, Logan drove Meg to Lily and Ned’s. As he braked, Meg rested her hand on his arm. “You don’t have to get out. You two need hot showers as much as I need a hot bath.”
But Logan wouldn’t let her go that easily. Surprising her, he leaned close and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll call you.”
With a peek at Travis, she realized he looked pensive rather than defiant. She hopped out of the car and told them both goodbye. Maybe Travis would stay home tonight and talk with Logan. Maybe they would begin to realize they were more alike than different.
Meg insisted on cleaning up after supper so Lily and Ned could take an evening stroll. The sky had cleared, becoming pale blue before the sun set. Finally, when she’d clicked on the dishwasher and headed upstairs, she realized her right hip was as sore as her arm. As she soaked in the tub, she almost fell asleep. The sounds of her aunt and uncle returning from their walk urged her to leave the now-lukewarm water.
She’d wrapped herself in her robe and was drying her hair when her aunt opened the bathroom door. “I’m perturbed with you, young lady. Logan’s on the phone. He told me you took a spill today.”
“I’m fine, Aunt Lily. I slipped. That’s all.” She hadn’t wanted to give her aunt anything to worry about. Although Lily was recovering nicely and had resumed many of her activities, the doctor had told her to try to keep stress to a minimum.
“You should have let me clean up the kitchen,” her aunt chided.
“You made supper,” Meg argued.
“I stuck a chicken in the oven with a few vegetables.” Lily looked her over. “Are you sure you’re okay? You looked pale at supper.”
Meg slipped by the woman who loved her like a mother. “Don’t worry. A good night’s sleep is all I need.” A few moments later, she picked up the phone in her room. “Logan MacDonald. Why did you tell Aunt Lily about my fall?”
“I merely asked how you felt. I didn’t know if you’d tell me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you think you can handle everything yourself.”
She sighed. “I think you know me a little too well.”
“Not nearly well enough,” he responded in a deep, sexy voice that almost made her forget her fatigue. Knowing they couldn’t spend the night together but longing to cuddle in his arms, she asked, “How are you and Travis?”
He allowed the change of subject. “I’m not sure. We’re both watching what we say and how we say it. But something happened out there today, Meg. Even though it hurt like hell, we got the raw truth out in the open. Now all I have to do is make him believe that he’s important to me and always has been. He thought Shelley and I never wanted him, that it would have been better if he hadn’t been born.”
She could hear the pain and regret in Logan’s voice. “He’ll believe you. Just take it slowly.”
“I’ve had sixteen years and suddenly I feel as if I’m starting from square one.”
“You are. But he’ll come around.”
“You’ve made a difference.”
“Logan…”
“You have. You were right. I needed to see his point of view. After today, I think I can.” Following a pause, Logan asked, “You know what I’d like to do this very moment?”
“What?”
“Make love to you.”
There was almost too much desire in his words, too much feeling in her hea
rt. Fear tapped her on the shoulder again. Closing her eyes, she tried to will it away. When she couldn’t, she pretended a lightness she didn’t feel. “In the barn?”
“Anywhere at all.”
With a shiver of passion attached to the love flowing through her, she took a deep breath, realizing that leaving Willow Valley would be even more difficult than standing on her aunt’s porch when she was twelve and watching her parents drive away.
When Meg raised her arm to knock softly on Victoria Lee’s office door Monday afternoon, the sleeve of her blouse brushed her scrape, and she winced. Then she ignored the soreness as she had all morning. It would heal.
“Come in.”
Meg stepped inside. “I spoke with our contact in Guatemala. Everything is finalized on the Conlin adoption. They leave tomorrow and pick up the baby on Wednesday. They’re ecstatic.”
“They’ve waited two years to adopt.”
Handing the file to Victoria, Meg said, “Mrs. Conlin was crying. Did you know she and her husband went through procedures for five years, and none of the surgeries or fertility drugs worked? For seven years, she and her husband have prayed for this child.”
Victoria laid the manila folder on her desk. “I know. A lot of our couples have a similar history.” She gestured to the chair in front of her desk. When Meg was seated, she asked, “You’re enjoying your work with the agency, aren’t you?”
Meg was beginning to love her work here. The past week, she’d thought more and more about staying in Willow Valley. Logan was becoming part of every fiber of her life, as well as her being. If she enjoyed helping couples adopt, if she gave in to her feelings for Logan, the nightmares would disappear. Wouldn’t they? She felt safe when Logan held her. Her love for him grew each day. But she hadn’t told him yet. It was so soon. So new.
“I do enjoy my work here.”
“The liaison position is still open. I’ve held off interviewing anyone else, hoping you’d change your mind and accept my offer.”
Meg brushed her hair from her cheek. “I can’t make the decision yet. I’m sorry.”
Victoria leaned back in her chair. “I’m going to take the chance that placing babies with loving couples will be more valuable work to you than any you’ve experienced. So I’m going to give you until Christmas to decide. Fair enough?”
Meg thought about Logan and smiled. With a joyful feeling in her heart, she agreed, “Fair enough.”
Chapter 12
The sun peeked over the horizon, casting the earliest rays of daylight onto the barn. Meg sat in her bedroom Thanksgiving morning, staring into the backyard. She’d been awake most of the night. She had to pull herself together, she had to stuff the turkey, she had to…
She had to talk to Logan.
Her life had never been more complicated, and there were no simple answers. Would Logan be angry? Upset?
Meg placed her hand on her stomach, sensing the life there, loving it, knowing for certain she’d never abandon this child, call it a mistake or give it any reason to believe it wasn’t important, valued, loved. She would never call this child an accident, although the first time was the only time she and Logan hadn’t used birth control. What was the phrase? Love child. She loved Logan and she’d love this child.
She didn’t know if Logan loved her. He desired her, but passion was not love.
A month had passed since their hike. She’d missed the signs of pregnancy at first—fatigue, the late-afternoon nausea, a missed period—blaming all of it on the trauma of being kidnapped and wounded. Enjoying her time with Logan, whether they talked or stole away to make love, she’d gotten caught up with being in love. Until the day before yesterday, when supper had been a chore to eat and she’d lost it soon afterward. She’d made an appointment with Doc Jacobs. He’d put the symptoms together immediately, taken a blood sample and given her the results. She was pregnant.
Lily had invited Travis and Logan to Thanksgiving dinner. Meg had looked forward to this day. But now part of her wished she could go back to bed, pull the covers over her head and not get up again until she knew exactly what to do about everything—her career, possibly accepting a position with the adoption agency, but, most of all, Logan.
Meg wouldn’t let Lily do anything except mash potatoes. It was difficult keeping her aunt in line. Yesterday, when Meg had returned from Doc Jacobs’s, she found Lily taking two pumpkin pies from the oven. So Meg had made her aunt promise to behave today. Except Meg’s idea of behaving and her aunt’s were entirely different.
Finally, when Logan and Travis arrived in the early evening, Lily let them take her place in the kitchen.
Logan came to Meg as she put the finishing touches on a salad, put his arms around her and kissed her on the neck. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
His touch, his voice and the knowledge she now carried brought tears to her eyes. She swallowed hard and managed to reply, “Happy Thanksgiving.”
Travis pulled out a chair and sat at the table already set with Lily’s best china. “Are you two going to cook or make out? Some of us are getting hungry.”
When Meg turned around, she saw Travis’s grin. She’d seen a change in him over the past month. His hostility had given way to an honest friendliness to her and a more accepting attitude of his father. Over the past few weeks, she’d seen Logan relax more with his son. They still didn’t talk much, but when they did, they seemed to be more willing to listen to each other.
She couldn’t help but think of the child she was carrying. How would Logan relate to him or her? Did he want to be a father again? And if not…
Travis’s grin faded, and he was looking at her as if wondering if he’d said something wrong.
Summoning up a smile, she responded, “We’re almost finished cooking. If one of you strong men would like to lift the bird out of the oven—”
The phone rang, and Meg reached for it. “Hello.”
“Meg, darling, it’s your mother. We just got back to the village and received your messages about Lily. It sounds as if the crisis is over.”
When Meg had tried to reach her parents after Lily’s heart attack, she’d been told they’d left for an archaeological dig. She’d called their base site each week, leaving a message with an update of her aunt’s condition so they’d have it when they returned. Old sadness surfaced when she heard her mother’s voice. But anger soon followed. Anger like she’d never known.
Even when they’d learned of Meg’s ordeal and injury, they’d made two solicitous phone calls, discovered she’d recover and gone back to their work. She found herself angry not only for herself but for her aunt. “Yes, the crisis is over. For now. What I’d like to know is how you would have felt if she’d died and you were just calling in now?”
“Margaret Elizabeth. How dare you speak to me like that?”
“I dare because it’s the truth. Would you like to speak to Aunt Lily?”
“Yes, of course. But first, how are you?”
Pregnant, Mother. And believe me, you’ll be the last to know. “I’m terrific.”
“Good. Good. I just wanted you to know we’ll be back in the States in about a month. It’s time to raise funds again, so we’ll be doing a tour of colleges and private companies.”
“Are you and Dad well?” As much as she didn’t want to, she still loved her parents and cared about their welfare.
“Yes, of course.”
Silence extended between them. They had no more to say. “I’ll get Aunt Lily. Hold on.”
When Meg returned to the kitchen, she listened to make sure her aunt had picked up, then replaced the phone on its cradle. Logan and Travis were looking at her as if she’d grown two heads. She opened the oven door and pulled out the rack.
Logan crossed to the stove. “I’ll get it.”
She stood back and let him lift it to the top of the range.
He lifted off the lid and asked casually, “That was your mother?”
“Yes. They’ll be coming back to the States arou
nd Christmas.”
Travis stood and joined her by the sink. “You don’t sound too happy about it.”
Whether it was hormones or the tension she felt because of the news she had to give Logan, she just wanted to cry. “I’m not happy or unhappy about it. What they do no longer affects me.”
“You can’t mean that,” Logan chided.
“I know exactly what I mean and how I feel.” She faced Travis. “If you want to see an example of parents who really don’t care, just drop by when they’re here.”
Logan and his son exchanged a look that said they didn’t know what had gotten into her. She wasn’t entirely sure herself. But she did know she loved her baby already, and her protective instincts had revved into overdrive from the moment she’d heard her mother’s voice. She would never, ever hurt her child as her parents had hurt her. She would never abandon her son or daughter.
This tension was driving her crazy, that’s all. As soon as they finished dinner, she’d tell Logan about the baby.
Lily and Ned loved having more people in their house for the holiday. Conversation flowed around the table as Meg struggled to keep her mind on it and answer questions when someone addressed her directly. Every once in a while, she caught Logan’s gaze on her. She pushed her food around her plate, managing a bite or two.
After dinner, Travis left to join friends. Lily and Ned insisted on helping Logan and Meg with cleanup, though Meg would have preferred to work with Logan and ease into the conversation they needed to have. Finally Meg washed the roasting pan and sighed with relief as Ned and Lily went to the living room.
Logan quickly dried the pan. “Do you feel like getting some fresh air?”
Meg jumped at the chance. “I’ll get my jacket.”
A few minutes later, they walked along the path in the backyard. A whippoorwill sang into the night. The stars, brilliant against the black sky, twinkled through the bare branches. So many changes in the past month. She could already feel the changes in her body, now that she was aware of what was happening.
The Sheriff’s Proposal Page 16
