The Loner

by Geralyn Dawson

  At some point, she was back in her dream.

  Back on the dark plain, at the center of a circle of swirling, churning white tornadoes. She stands on a pitcher's mound, a baseball in her hand. Will is at the plate with a bat. He is smiling and laughing and calling for her to make a pitch.

  She doesn 't want to throw the ball. She holds it in a fierce grip, her right arm stiff and heavy as lead.

  "Come on, Mom. Throw it. Watch me hit it halfway to Oklahoma! Hurry, Mom. Throw the ball."

  "No, Will. It's dangerous!" She doesn't know how she knows, but the knowledge burns her heart like a brand.

  The baseball grows warm, then hot. Its temperature continues to rise until her skin begins to burn. Pain radiates from her hand, but still, she holds the ball in a death grip. She dare not let it go.

  Then her hand burns away and the ball drops. But instead of falling to the ground, it slowly circles her. Once. Twice.

  She tries to run, but her feet won't move. She tries to call out to her son, but she can't draw a breath. The baseball bursts into flames and picks up speed, swirling around her, faster and faster and faster. Beyond her the circle of white tornadoes moves closer.

  Will's voice calls, "Mama. Throw the ball, Mama."

  The tornadoes chant, "Liar. Liar. Liar."

  "Mama! Throw the ball."

  "Liar. Liar. Liar."

  The flaming baseball whirls and twirls.

  "Liar. Liar. Liar."

  "Mama!"

  The baseball circles her ankles so closely that it singes her skin. Then it travels up her body in a widening circle as if climbing a funnel until it rises above her head. At that point she can breathe again and she screams, "Will! Run!"

  But it is too late. The flaming baseball leaves its path and shoots straight toward her son.

  Filled with terror, she watches him draw his bat back. Like a comet, the ball hurtles toward him. He starts his swing.

  "Will...no!" she sobs.

  His bat connects, the ball explodes, and when the fire dies, her son is gone.

  "Will!" She wrenched herself forward and awoke to find herself sitting up in bed, her heart pounding, her mouth dry. "Dear God, Will!"

  "Shush, Caro. You were dreaming again." Beside her, Logan sat up, switched on the bedside lamp and pulled her into his arms. "You had another nightmare. Understandable after the day we've had."

  The events of the afternoon came rushing back. The tornado. The dead passengers. Poor, broken and bloodied Cade. She trembled like a leaf in a gale.

  Logan stroked her hair and spoke in a soothing tone. "It's okay, sunshine."

  "No. No, it's not."

  "Look, I know you're worried sick about Will, but you need to listen to me. I will save our son." He pressed a kiss against her head.

  Oh God. Despair welled up inside her. He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. He didn't know the truth.

  In her mind's eye, she saw Cade Hollister wrapped in barbed wire spinning through the sky, and at that, Caroline did something she very rarely did. She started to cry. "I'm so sorry, Logan."

  "Shush, darlin'," he said, his hands continuing to stroke her, to comfort her. "Don't do that. Don't cry."

  "It's my fault."

  He chuckled softly, then pressed a kiss against her temple. "Your fault? I know you're a strong woman, Caro, but really, I don't think you command the winds."

  "Cade wouldn't have been there if not for me."

  "Now, don't do that." His big hands stroked up and down her arms. 'There's no call for you to feel guilty. He was there for me, and because that's the kind of guy he is. Cade wouldn't want either of us to feel guilty."

  "But that's because... Will. I have to tell you about Will."

  "Ah, baby." He kissed away a tear. "It was just a dream. Let it go." He kissed the tears on her other cheek. "You're shaking like a hen in a dust bath. Don't go back to that place."

  His warm care and tenderness pierced the chill of her shame and guilt, touching a place inside her that had been frozen and lonely for so long. Fifteen years had passed since this man—since any man—had held her this way. Fifteen long, hard, lonely years.

  She was too tired, too weary, too heartsick to resist the temptation. "Then keep me here, Logan. Make everything else go away. Just for tonight. Just let me have tonight."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Yearning glowed in her eyes and Logan knew he couldn't resist the quiet plea. He ran a finger along her cheek, her expression pale in the dim lamplight.

  So pretty she was. So unique, unlike anyone else he'd ever been with. Strong, yet vulnerable. Surprisingly brave. A fine woman. A fine mother for his child.

  Of all the too-many-to-count mistakes he'd made in his life, leaving Caroline Kilpatrick Grey alone in that hotel room fifteen years ago had been one of the worst.

  And here, now, she wasn't asking for tomorrow. Tonight all she wanted was escape. She wanted a few hours here in the darkness where she could escape the horror of the day, her fear for their son and the nightmares that plagued her sleep. Logan desired the same escape that Caroline craved, but as he stared into those lovely, liquid violet eyes, somewhere deep inside himself, he knew she needed...she deserved... more.

  She needed a husband. A real husband. One who didn't play at it part-time.

  What if...

  It floated through his head like a fantasy. What if it wasn't just for tonight? What if he put the past behind them and made a future with her? Made a life with her? It could be so sweet....

  Stop it, Grey. You know better. You reached for that once before and look where it got you. You 've been there, lived it and dug the graves to prove it.

  He pushed fruitless fantasies from his mind, then stroked the hair away from her face and kissed her.

  A sigh caressed his lips in return, and she pressed against him ever so slightly. Taking the cue, he moved his hands from her shoulders to the gentle dip of her waist. He explored her with lazy precision, reveling in her softness. As her body melted into him, he deepened the kiss, touching his tongue to hers, as he laid her back against the bed.

  Unable to help himself, he made a low sound of desire and need as he trailed kisses up her neck. "Touch me, Caroline."

  Tentatively, she touched his bare chest with trembling fingers. Featherlight at first, she grew bolder with his whispered approval. The heat of her hands stoked embers deep within.

  My wife, he thought. If only for tonight.

  Feeling an emotion he wasn't certain he could name, Logan lowered his mouth to Caroline's once again. This time, she matched his hunger.

  He gave over to her completely, soaking in the smell of soap and warm woman, letting the sensations surround him. His body strained against her thigh, nudging, tempting. The need to make her his again was so powerful that Logan was certain that even another tornado wouldn't stop him.

  He steeped himself in sensation. The taste of her...sweet, so sweet. The brush of her hair draping over his arm and shoulder and the lovely softness of her cotton-clad breasts pressing against him. The sounds she made...the perfect little moans of need—never in his life had he wanted a woman this badly.

  Nibbling on her earlobe, he brushed his fingers along her breast and pulled at the ribbons on her robe, then the buttons of her gown to seek the warm skin beneath. Tentatively, he palmed the rounded softness, then rubbed a lazy thumb over her nipple.

  "Oh," she gasped, arching into his hand.

  As she gripped his shoulders, something in Caroline's voice gave him pause. Meeting her eyes, he froze when he noticed a fresh teardrop trail down to her pillow. "Caroline?"

  "It's all right. Don't stop." Grabbing at his hand, she stayed his retreat. "Please don't stop. I'm just.. .feeling so much. It's been so long."

  He hadn't forgotten that she'd named him as her one and only lover, and the knowledge filled him with a fierce, possessive satisfaction. "You think you're feeling now?" he asked, his voice low and rough. "Just wait."

  He pulled th
e robe from her completely. He wanted her bare. He wanted her beneath him. He wanted her body one with his own.

  So he stripped off her gown and left her naked. Skin on skin, he kissed her with more insistence, their tongues meeting and caressing. Remembering. Rediscovering. How could he have forgotten this warm, wondrous woman? She was like a song whose melody he'd remembered, but the lyrics remained forgotten.

  Until now.

  Now he remembered her. He would remember all of her all over again. Covering her supple breasts with both palms, he rubbed and teased the responsive tips with his fingers, enjoying every moan, every gasp.

  Kissing her jaw, her throat, he blazed a path down to one straining nipple and took it between his lips.

  She cried out, lacing her fingers in his hair.

  Pleased, he licked and sucked, switching from one breast to the other until the soft and needful sounds she made broke on a sob. He loved that she was so responsive. Hearing her pleasure tightened his body and fired his blood even more.

  God, what sort of noise would she make if his lips traveled even lower?

  With a sharp intake of breath, Logan pressed his forehead against hers. He needed to gain a measure of control and thinking about tasting her... Whoa. He swallowed hard; the image was more than he could bear. Get hold of yourself, Grey, before you lose it here and now. They'd wasted too many years for this to end too soon.

  He levered himself away from her, standing just long enough to strip off his pants and pull the medallion over his head, before joining her again in their bed. In their marriage bed.

  It was heaven on earth, the feel of her. The heat. The magic. With moonlight spilling across the bed, the desperate urgency of two souls reconnecting filled the air. Looking down at her shining eyes, Logan let himself fall into her abyss.

  "I need you, Caroline," he said in a low, breathless tone. He nuzzled her ear. "I have to have all of you."

  "I'm yours," she whispered. Tracing a hand over his face, she let her finger run over his bottom lip. "All these lost years, I've always been yours."

  "Mine." He grinned, slowly, wickedly. "Am I a lucky man, or what?"

  Caroline laughed at the smug satisfaction in his tone. She couldn't help it. Joy sizzled along her nerves as heady as desire. When he caught her finger in his mouth and sucked hard, the heat coiling within her nearly burst. "Make love to me, Logan Grey."

  And so he did.

  His hot mouth covered her breast again, making her moan and arch and beg as his hand eased down, touching her where she ached the most. With light fingers, he brought her to the very brink of madness, only to leave her there.

  Bereft when he drew back his hand, she protested, "Logan."

  "I know, sweetheart. Let me give you what you need. What we both need."

  He positioned her beneath him, lying between the cradle of her thighs. Instantly, the solid tip of him probed at her wetness, seeking an entrance she was helpless to deny. Above her, his jade eyes were hooded in the lamplight as he pushed inside.

  He caught her cry with his mouth. It had been such a long, long time. The pressure of his body sinking fully into hers was deliciously illicit, and Caroline wanted more. Blindly, she reached around and gripped his back, pulling him closer. Wanting him deeper. Wanting to lose herself in him. But he remained still, as if trying to savor the moment.

  "My God," he mumbled against her mouth. "You feel so good, Caro. So very good."

  She couldn't respond. It was all she could do to breathe. The feeling, the sensation of where they were joined overwhelmed her. She didn't want to talk. Didn't want to think. All she wanted was to feel.

  Moving ever so slightly, she tilted her hips and spread her legs a notch farther. It was his turn to gasp, and feminine power coursed through Caroline. Encouraged, she lifted her body, taking more of him inside.

  The look of exquisite pleasure that crossed Logan's face would be burned upon her memory for the rest of her life.

  He'd closed his eyes, but his hands moved over her, holding her, pulling her closer. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, and again Caroline felt the unaccustomed well of tears. Resting her cheek against his shoulder, she hid her brimming eyes.

  They moved together as if they'd never been apart. He whispered to her.. .mindless words of praise and encouragement. He told her she was beautiful, that no woman had ever made him feel like this. He said other things, too. Erotic things. Forbidden things.

  During all this, he kissed her with such passion that for one moment in time, Caroline let herself believe in the impossible.

  He said everything a woman wanted to hear from her man. Words that meant something. Words that mattered. Maybe that was part of it, Caroline thought as she returned his kiss. All her life, she'd wanted to matter. And right now, to Logan, she did.

  She moved with him, matching his tempo and reveling in his deep-throated groan when she wrapped her legs around him. He knew how to touch, how to tantalize, when to slow, when to quicken. The swells of pleasure between them built higher as his thrusts increased.

  It was the sweetest torture Caroline had ever known. Had it been this good before? she wondered. Had she been too young and too foolish to realize? How could she have lived without this for so many years?

  How would she live without it after tonight?

  Not wanting to think about tomorrow, Caroline banished her musings. She wanted more. She wanted him. She wanted to forget everything but the here and now.

  Urging Logan with her hands and lips, the first ripple threatened and on its heels, the wave. The intensity she'd almost forgotten washed over her, the sharp, unmistakable pang of need pulled her under. Her mind empty of everything but Logan, the hard tremor snatched her breath and rocked her from head to toe.

  Her last bit of control forsaken, she sobbed out her release, hearing him call out her name as he followed.

  When their bodies cooled, Logan turned and settled her against him in a heartbreaking embrace.

  She couldn't stop trembling. Their encounter had been so passionate, so.. .amazing. The way he'd touched her, the things he'd said. For long minutes, she tried to calm herself, but the myriad of emotions ran far too high.

  He seemed to sense her distress and gently kissed her temple. Rubbing his cheek against her hair, he asked quietly, "You all right?"

  She could only nod.

  "Good. Because I'm certainly all right. More than all right. Caroline, that was wonderful. You're wonderful. I can't think of a better ending to a totally lousy day."

  "Logan.. .I want... I need..."

  After a moment's hesitation, he chuckled softly. "Again? Ah, sunshine, I'm right there with you, but I'm afraid I'm not eighteen anymore. After the day I've had, I'm gonna need a few minutes to get my oats back." Curling his arm around her again, he smiled. "Until then, I'll just hold you."

  She closed her eyes against the pain and the shame and the guilt. "I'd like that."

  Within minutes, he was asleep.

  Caroline lay awake and miserable. She didn't deserve this, to lie here with him, cradled in his arms as if she were someone special. As if she were someone he could care about.

  She didn't deserve his intimacy or his concern. She'd lied to him, played the part of a terrified mother to appeal to his sympathy and heartstrings and it had all worked like a charm. Better than she could have ever hoped.

  An image of Cade flashed through her mind. Look what her lies had cost him. Logan would never forgive her.

  He will hate me. Come morning, he '11 walk away and never look back.

  Self-loathing ripped through her, stealing her breath and freezing her blood. Why? Why had she asked him to make love to her? Why had she allowed it? Why had she clung to him, practically begging him to make it all go away? Had she lost her mind?

  She could tell herself it was insanity. Or even the human need to reconnect after the tragedy they'd experienced at the crash site. But deep down, Caroline knew it was far more than that. She'd needed to feel a
gain what he'd made her feel all those years ago. Wanted. Cherished. Desired.

  Loved.

  She kept her head on his chest, counting his heartbeats, knowing the steady rise and fall of his breathing indicated the deep sleep of a sated man. Her man. If only for this one night.

  Wishing morning would never come, Caroline lay in her husband's arms and cried silent tears of loss.

  A beam of morning sunshine streamed through a gap in the window curtains and woke Logan from a dreamless sleep. His first thought was of the warm bundle of woman in his arms. Dammit, he'd fallen asleep without a second go-round. He must have been even more exhausted than he'd realized.

  But damn, hadn't the first been fine.

  He opened his eyes, a satisfied smile stretching across his face as he contemplated waking her up with lovemaking. That would be another first for her. He'd discovered he liked the idea of introducing her to a whole lot of firsts.

  He propped his head on his elbow and stared at her, his smile going tender. Such beauty. Such strength. What a soldier she'd been yesterday in the wake of disaster.

  Disaster. The events of yesterday intruded on his peace and worries came roaring back. He thought of Cade and the other injured passengers. He imagined Will moseying up to outlaws. With those two realities lodged in his mind, duty dimmed his desire.

  He'd slept later than he'd intended, and he had a lot to do before they boarded the stage that would take them to the rail stop where they could continue their trip west. He'd better get over to the telegraph office and see what replies to the telegrams he sent yesterday awaited him. Among other things, he'd asked the young Fort Worth doctor who'd been such a help when Dair MacRae was ill to make himself available to Cade. Logan needed to know Dr. Peter Daggett's reply as soon as possible in case he needed to clear the way of any obstacles that might prevent the doctor from assisting his friend.

  He hated being pulled in two directions like this— fear for his son and for his friend, as well. Despite the reassurances he'd given Caroline last night, he felt the same guilt as she had over Cade's injuries. Under any other circumstances, he'd be hightailing it back to the scene of the wreck right this very moment, but Will had to be his first priority right now, and Logan knew Cade wouldn't want it any other way.