“Dad has a sheriff’s meeting in Lynchburg, but he’ll probably be back by evening.”
“Is that a warning?” She smiled, not sure where Travis was headed.
“Sort of. He usually goes. I thought you’d want to know.”
So now she knew. What she’d do about it was another matter entirely.
The booth beckoned to Meg on Saturday morning as she passed one stand after another displaying Christmas ornaments and handicrafts. This particular booth held a stack of homemade baby bibs, quilts and sweaters with bootees and caps. Meg picked up a tiny white crocheted sweater that was as soft as Leo’s kitten fur.
“Are you going to buy it?”
Meg turned and found her uncle at her elbow. “It’s a little soon.”
“It’s not too soon to plan and dream. I guess you know Lily’s as excited about this baby as you are.”
Her aunt was excited. She loved to nurture. “Aunt Lily and you should have had ten kids.”
Ned shrugged. “It wasn’t to be. When we were trying to have a family, there were no fertility drugs or in-vitro-fertilization procedures. We probably should have adopted. But we always struggled with the farm. And then again, we had you.”
“And I had you.”
He nodded to the baby sweater in her hand. “Now you’re going to have a child of your own. That makes us proud.”
“Even though I’m a single woman?”
“From what Lily tells me, you’re not giving Logan much of a chance to make it otherwise.” He frowned and gave her a look she’d seen before, a look that said she might be acting foolish.
“Uncle Ned…”
“Are you going to the square dance tonight?”
She knew as well as anyone else she couldn’t avoid Logan forever. Tonight, in the midst of a crowd of people, would probably be the best place to see him again. They wouldn’t have to “talk” unless they both made a concerted effort.
Whenever she thought about Logan, she ached for what might have been. “Yes, I’m going tonight. You and Aunt Lily would probably carry me there if I said I wasn’t.”
Her uncle chuckled and gestured to the sweater. “So, are you going to buy that?”
Meg smiled. It was time to dream and plan, at least about her baby. “Yes, I am. And I might buy a few bibs, too. I hear babies go through quite a few.”
Logan’s tie had gotten tighter as the day-long meeting had droned on. Finally at home, he tugged it loose and tossed it over his bedroom chair. His shirt followed.
Travis stopped in the doorway. “I’m leaving.”
“For the square dance?”
“We’ll get there eventually. A couple of stops first.”
Logan opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Travis grinned. “Very good, Dad. You didn’t ask if we were stopping for booze. I gotta split. If I pretend I don’t know you at the fire hall…”
“I know. I shouldn’t take it personally.”
Travis tapped his fingers on the doorframe. “You’re learning, Dad. See ya.”
Logan unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers. Yeah, he was learning, all right. Very slowly. The problem was that learning took patience, and he was about out of patience where Meg was concerned. He knew he should tell Travis that Meg was pregnant. But he was supposed to be a role model for his son. Until he and Meg reached some kind of agreement…
Agreement. Yeah. When she wouldn’t talk to him. Well, that was going to end tonight. And if she didn’t put in an appearance at the dance, he’d drive to the farm and insist she talk to him. He wouldn’t leave until she did. He didn’t blame her for being angry. But she’d misinterpreted what he’d meant. Granted, mess hadn’t been the best term to use, and he’d kicked himself for the past two weeks for using it.
He understood her anger at his insensitivity, but he didn’t understand her withdrawal. They’d always been able to talk. She’d always been open, coaxing him to lay everything out on the table. Without Meg, he might have lost his son. Maybe he hadn’t told her often enough how grateful he was. How glad he was she’d come into his life. Out of all the things he should have told her, the one very important one was that he was glad she was carrying his baby. Maybe once she knew that, marriage wouldn’t be such a big jump. After all, maybe he needed to court her.
What did a man wear to court a woman?
He’d think about it in the shower.
In a few hours, the social hall of the fire company had been transformed from a Christmas bazaar into a festive, barnlike atmosphere with bales of hay, cedar garlands, red ribbons, and holly centerpieces abounding. Meg sat beside Lily and Ned at one of the long tables. Friends of her aunt and uncle sat at the table with them. The band tuned up, and soon the caller stood at the microphone directing the dancers.
Meg kept her eyes on the door. Logan hadn’t yet appeared. But suddenly someone stood behind her chair with a hand on her shoulder. She turned and found Michael Holden, his jeans and red plaid shirt giving him a different persona than his principal’s white shirt and tie.
The chair beside her was empty. He nodded to it. “Do you mind?”
“No. Have a seat. How are you?”
“Good. Is Logan here?”
She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage. “Not that I know of.”
He looked at her curiously. “Is something wrong?”
His concern made her give him an honest answer. “Nothing I want to talk about.”
Smiling, he said, “All right. Then I’ll assume you came tonight to have fun. Are you having it yet?”
Michael really was a nice man, and she had to smile back. “Not quite yet.”
He laughed. “Would you like something to eat? They have quite a spread over there. Hot dogs to popcorn.”
“Just some soda. Something without caffeine.”
After Michael brought them two glasses of soda, he asked, “Would you like to join a square?”
She’d asked Doc about exercise. He’d told her what she’d suspected—keeping fit was the best way to keep problems during pregnancy to a minimum. “Yes, I would.”
As Meg do-si-doed with Michael, she remembered the fun she’d had as a teenager when she’d gone to square dances. It was the challenge of hearing the calls and keeping her feet moving in the right direction. It was the mixture of male and female, brushing elbows, laughing and misstepping that put everyone in a congenial mood. But when the caller directed her to promenade with her partner and Michael took her hand, she longed for Logan beside her. She longed to be sharing the moments of fun with him.
On a deeper level, she realized she wanted him beside her through her pregnancy and during the birth of their child. Her heart ached because she knew she wanted something from him he couldn’t give. Because of Shelley. Because of Travis. He’d probably never expected to be a father again. With the heartache and turmoil he’d gone through the past few years with Travis, contemplating the responsibilities of fatherhood again was probably just too painful. Yet she knew Logan was the type of man whose sense of responsibility was as vital to him as his sense of duty. Essentially that’s why she’d been hiding from him. She was afraid his sense of responsibility or duty would trap him again in a life he didn’t want.
For that reason, she’d kept the idea of going back to D.C. as an option. On the other hand, if she took the liaison position with Victoria’s adoption agency, Logan would have access to his child if he wanted it. As much as she’d thought about what was best for her and the baby, she’d thought about what was best for Logan, too. Because she loved him.
But loving him only added confusion to questions that seemed to have no answers.
When the song was over, Michael nudged her elbow. “You stopped smiling. For a while there, I thought you might be having fun.”
“For a while, I was. Do you think scientists have ever done a study on how detrimental thinking can be to a person’s health?”
He took her hand and positioned her across from him in
another square. “The secret is to keep too busy to think. Now, what do you say we try this again until you get it right?”
Michael’s patient amusement was contagious. “All right. Let’s give it one more try.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “That a girl.”
Before the music started again, Cal walked by the square, saw Meg and Michael facing each other and frowned. Stepping closer to Michael, but not so far away that Meg couldn’t hear, he warned in a low voice, “She’s the sheriff’s lady, Holden. You better not get any poaching ideas if you know what’s good for you.”
Meg stood stunned.
Michael responded to the deputy sheriff calmly. “Then I guess the sheriff should be a little more attentive to his lady if he expects other men not to get any ideas.”
Cal scowled, but when Michael wasn’t intimidated, the deputy arched his brows at Meg and walked away.
Meg finally found her voice. “I don’t believe he said that.”
“One thing Cal is is loyal.”
“Loyalty is one thing. That kind of…of…outdated chauvinism is another.”
“We’re in Willow Valley, Meg.”
The music started; the caller called the dance. And Meg made up her mind she was definitely going to have fun.
The fun stopped cold when she felt Logan’s gaze on her. How could she tell he’d arrived when the room was full of people? The question was moot. She just could. He stood beside a stack of bales of hay, his arms crossed over his chest. His black jeans, gray, western-cut shirt and black boots made him look tall, dangerous and as sexy as she could ever remember him looking. Her hormones were just in a whirl from her pregnancy. That had to explain why, out of all the men in the room, she only felt an overwhelming attraction toward Logan. She ignored it. She was having fun.
Sure, it was lots of fun to see Cal stop beside his boss and mumble something to him. Logan frowned, looked at Michael, then back at her. Not hard to imagine what that was about.
It was lots of fun to wonder if she’d split a seam. She’d worn a patterned tunic top and jeans, knowing it would be comfortable if she felt like dancing. Logan was looking at her so hard…what was the phrase he’d used at the fund-raiser? Undressing her with his eyes.
And it was the most fun to imagine what would happen when the dance was over. Would he come to her? Should she go to him? It was a shame she knew how to square dance so well. Obviously she wasn’t busy enough to stop thinking.
When the dance ended, she didn’t have to imagine what would happen next. Logan pushed himself away from the bales of hay and headed right toward her, a scowl drawing his brows together.
He stopped a few inches from her. “Do you think you should be doing this?”
As if Michael sensed something in Logan that could be intimidating, he protectively laid a hand on Meg’s shoulder. “Why shouldn’t she?”
Logan’s gaze pointedly stayed on Michael Holden’s hand. “Because she’s pregnant, and this kind of activity could be harmful to our baby.” There was the slightest emphasis on the word “our.”
Meg was mortified, and Michael’s look of astonishment didn’t help. “Logan! I can’t believe you’d embarrass me like this. If you think this macho behavior is going to help anything, you’re mistaken.”
Michael dropped his hand from her shoulder.
Logan curved his arm around her and nudged her toward the closest exit. “I want to talk to you.”
She dug in her heels and wouldn’t move. “Maybe I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Do I have to pick you up and carry you?”
One look at his face told her that’s exactly what he’d do. “All right.”
He guided her toward the back exit, out onto a landing. She shivered and rubbed her arms.
“We should have gotten your coat.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re always fine. That’s the problem!”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?”
He looked as if he wanted to shake her…or kiss her. She wasn’t sure which. “It means you don’t always have to handle everything yourself. It means that this is our child you’re carrying. It means I want you to marry me.”
It was a demand, not a request or a proposal. Hurt, she said the first thought that came to mind. “The same way you wanted Shelley to marry you?”
He exploded. “No!” With a slash of his hand through the air, he said angrily, “You’re not Shelley.”
“No, but I bet the reasons you want me to marry you are the same ones that made you ask Shelley.”
“No.”
“Logan, the situation is the same.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I want to give our baby a family. I know I’ve made mistakes with Travis, but I won’t repeat them with this child.”
Logan’s intentions were good, but his motivation lacked what she needed most—his love. “You can be a good father without marrying me. I won’t keep the baby from you. I couldn’t—”
Logan’s cell phone beeped, then beeped again. The string of epithets he uttered should have scandalized her. But they didn’t. He was angry and frustrated. She felt like yelling a few choice swear words herself. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel like fleeing to her room at Lily and Ned’s and having a good cry.
“I have to take this. Go inside where it’s warm. I’ll find you.”
“Logan, do you know how to do anything but give orders?” she flared.
He clasped her chin with his thumb and index finger. “Yes. I know how to kiss you and touch you until you want me as much as I want you.”
His honesty excited her and created pictures of the two of them together she’d never forget. But right now that picture hurt so much…. “There’s more to life than sex,” she said in a low voice.
Blowing out a breath, Logan opened the door and waited for her to go inside.
A few minutes later, he found her sitting with Lily and Ned. “There’s been another break-in at the high school. This one’s messier. Broken glass everywhere. I have to get Holden and go. If I’m tied up too late tonight, I will see you tomorrow. And I won’t accept excuses from Lily.”
With that promise, he headed for the exit.
Lily leaned her shoulder against Meg’s. “I think Logan’s jealous. You should have seen his face when you were dancing with Michael.”
Frustrated and angry herself, she crossed one leg over the other and swung it. “He told Michael I’m pregnant.”
A hint of a smile played on her aunt’s lips. “He’s laying claim.”
“He embarrassed me!”
“You won’t be more embarrassed when you start showing and everyone knows?”
Small-town thinking at its finest. She expected her aunt to be more broad-minded. “That is no reason to get married!”
“Married? Did I mention marriage?” Lily asked innocently.
“No, but Logan did and…” Her aunt’s expression was expectant. “Never mind. I’m going to get another glass of soda.”
Lily patted Meg’s hand. “When you want to talk, honey, I’ll be here.”
“I appreciate it, Aunt Lily. Everything just hurts too much right now.”
At the snack stand, Meg saw Travis. But he didn’t see her. He was shifting from one foot to the other, watching the front door.
“Travis, are you looking for your dad? He had to leave because of a break-in at the high school.”
Travis avoided her gaze. “Yeah, I know. I’m waiting for some friends.”
Intuition she’d relied on over the years made her ask, “Kyle?”
“Uh, yeah.” Travis was fidgety. He pulled down his T-shirt and stuffed one hand in his pocket.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
“Have you been drinking?”
“No!” He glanced at the door again. “If I tell you anything, you’ll tell Dad.”
“Maybe you should tell him.”
“No w
ay. I don’t rat on friends.”
She grabbed his arm. “Travis…”
Pulling away, he shook his head. “I said too much already. Forget it, Meg. Please?”
She didn’t want to lose his trust. Her friendship with Logan’s son had become important to her. “Only if you promise to call me if you need help with something.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Promise me, Travis.”
He didn’t deny it again, but nodded. “All right. But now I gotta go.”
His reassurance didn’t make her feel any better, and she suddenly realized worry would be a constant part of a mother’s life.
Meg had been holding her breath since she’d awakened Sunday morning, expecting to hear Logan’s car crunch down the lane. But the crunch she heard didn’t belong to Logan. She took a look out the back door and called to her aunt and uncle, who were reading the Sunday paper in the living room.
“Aunt Lily. Uncle Ned. Come here. It’s Carmen and Manuel.” Meg ran out to the truck.
Manuel hopped out first and went around to the other side of the truck to help his wife. Meg reached the truck just as Carmen handed Tomás to her husband.
Seeing Meg, Manuel grinned. “We promised we’d stop on our way to Florida.”
Meg gave Carmen a hug, then turned to the baby who’d brought her and Logan together. “Yes, you did. I can’t believe how much he’s grown. Can I hold him?”
Without hesitation, Carmen said, “Sí. Tú le eres especial.”
“He’s very special to me, too,” Meg responded, her eyes filling up. Babies were hope and joy and laughter. So why did she feel as if her heart were tearing in two?
An hour later, she’d finally handed Tomás back to his mother. While Ned, Lily, Carmen and Manuel visited in the living room, Meg offered to make tea. She was taking low-fat muffins out of the pastry holder when a knock came at the back door. Her stomach tightened.
When she opened the door, Travis stood there. And he didn’t look good. She pulled him inside. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Kyle. I think he’s gonna do something stupid.”
“How do you know?”
The Sheriff’s Proposal Page 18
