"I'm talking about my little sister. I'm talking about your idiotic notion of hoisting her onto the back of a horse and galloping off into the wild blue yonder. It's stupid, Zack! Sheer stupidity. I won't stand for it! And I won't rest easy till you agree to cooperate."
His smile vanished like a dark cloud suddenly blotting out the sun. He swung into the hospital parking lot and cut the engine, then turned to face her. "Hold on. You talk as if I don't have one ounce of good sense. All I did was ask her if she might like to ride Midnight. It's done all the time with physically challenged kids. Haven't you heard of therapeutic horseback riding? There's an excellent program not that far from Westland—"
"Yes, of course. Of course I'm aware of all that. But Kim's not ready for any of this."
"How do you know she's not?" His face hardened. "I think you're making a big mistake, Logan. I think your protectiveness of Kimberly is undermining her potential recovery."
"I don't agree," she replied icily. "How can you accuse me—a registered nurse, mind you—of missing the mark with Kimberly. Why, I, of all people, understand what disease and disability and recovery are all about!"
"Oh, do you? Do you really understand? Or does your understanding only apply to your patients? Logan, can't you see the obvious when it comes to your own sister?"
"What on earth are you talking about?" Her throat knotted with anger.
"I've already told you. I realize you're only doing what you think is best for Kimberly, but the bottom line is you're smothering her. Your type of concern can often be counter-productive. Listen to me. Back off a little. Give her some room to get well."
Without further rebuttal, she jerked her gaze from his and stared out the side-window. An ambulance appeared from the emergency drive-through and turned onto the main street. Though Zack had fallen silent, his words still stung. They cut to the core. But she'd gotten her wish, hadn't she? He'd finally taken her seriously. Still, she hadn't intended for him to lecture her as if she were some senseless child.
Only problem was, she knew he was right.
Chapter Three
Strained snatches of conversation stretched between them as they picked up the order at the hospital pharmacy and headed back to Camp Rippling Waters. They spoke only when necessary. And that suited Logan just fine.
They drove by the millpond, the same stand of dark trees, then swerved off on a side road, a short-cut back to camp, Zack promised. Undoubtedly he was feeling the tension too.
Up ahead, the foothills grew more rugged. They rounded a sweeping curve, then sped past a small waterfall that spilled down still another precipice. Fine sprays of water glimmered briefly in the headlights, yet she felt too numbed to appreciate the nocturnal beauty.
The after-effects of their disagreement mingled with the fatigue of a long day. Stifling a yawn, Logan stared straight ahead, her shoulders slumped. She felt utterly exhausted and was glad the distance back wouldn't be far, though already it seemed to be taking forever. All she cared about was erasing from her mind the events of their late evening together and dropping into her bed in the small quarters she shared with Maggie. Though it was not much larger than the cot set up for the children in the infirmary, now the prospect seemed heavenly.
"Tired?" Zack's question cut through her thoughts.
"Yes." He braked as they approached a hairpin curve. "I probably shouldn't have asked you to come with me tonight. I tend to forget you probably aren't used to getting by with a minimum of shut-eye like I am—"
"Zack! Watch out!" Her alarmed cry interrupted him. The terror-filled eyes of an antlered deer reflected in the glare of the headlights. The animal stood frozen, only a few precarious feet away as Zack swerved to avoid hitting it.
Tires screeched. The smell of burning rubber filled the air. In an instant the deer sprung off into the oncoming lane, then disappeared into the underbrush as the van rolled into a shallow ditch.
"Logan! Are you all right?" Zack reached out to clutch her shoulder.
She gave a quick shake of her head. "Yes. . .uh. . .I think so. What. . .what about you?"
"I. . .I'm fine." He expelled a long shaky breath, rubbing his chin with his other hand. "Holy smoke, Logan! That deer seemed to appear out of nowhere. Good thing I slowed down to nothing but a crawl back at that curve." He loosened his grip on her as he unfastened first her seat belt then his. The van was tilted gently downward onto Logan's side and it was difficult to right herself. Moreover, he was positioned awkwardly alongside of her.
"Here. Let me get a better look at you," he said. "Are you sure you're okay? You didn't hit your head? No nausea? You're not seeing double or feeling as if you might black out?"
"I already told you, Zack. I'm fine." She patted at her hair. "A little shook up maybe. But fine. . . And no, I didn't hit my head, if it's a concussion you're worried about. Though everything happened so fast. . .it was a rather smooth landing."
"Yes. Thank goodness." He leveled his gaze onto hers, tiny lines creasing his forehead. His hands, still planted firmly on each side of her face, seemed to sear right through her.
"So what do we do now?" she asked.
"I'll see if my car phone's still working. There's a towing outfit on the north end of Mapleton, about three or four miles from the hospital." He dropped his hands, lifted the phone and with a look of relief, punched the numbers. A minute later he turned to her again and said, "Their rig's out on another call, but the owner's wife said he should be back in a while. Then she'll send him our way."
"So what's that mean? Another hour. Maybe more?"
"Possibly. Might as well make the best of it," he said, stretching his arms over his head and heaving a sigh.
"Yes, I guess we have no choice," she agreed. The enticing scent of him again gave her gooseflesh. She tried to roll down her window as before, but this time it was jammed.
"I guess this serves me right," he muttered, looking away.
"What are you talking about?"
"For coming down on you like I did back in the hospital parking lot."
"Don't be silly, Zack. Are you trying to infer that fate brought about this little mishap to teach you a lesson?"
"No, not exactly. But I have been thinking. . ."
"Oh?"
"And I guess I owe you an apology, Logan. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come across that way. But tell me something. Is there a reason why you seem so frightened of horses?"
She heaved a sigh. "Yes. Yes, there is. A long time ago when I was a little older than Kim, I spent part of the summer with my cousin who lived on a ranch. I became fond of a certain horse—Domino, I think her name was—and rode her often. One day though, while I was out riding alone, about a mile from the ranch, the horse threw me. I suffered a severe concussion and a couple of fractured ribs. Though I didn't remember anything till I woke up two days later in the hospital, I was told that I'd apparently managed to get myself back on my feet and hold onto Domino's halter. Later, my uncle found the horse practically dragging me back to the ranch. After that, I swore I'd never get back on a horse again."
"Hmm, too bad," he said. "No wonder you're so protective of Kimberly." A long silence stretched between them. "I realize how difficult this must be for you. From now on, I'll try to be more understanding."
She averted her gaze and asked hoarsely, "Do you, Zack? Do you really realize?"
"As best I can—never having had the responsibility of raising a child." She could feel his warm breath fanning her cheek as he spoke. "Logan, look at me. It drives me crazy when you do that."
Tentatively she turned to face him.
His gaze was earnest, searching.
"Much better," he murmured. "I love the way your eyes talk back to me. Do you realize that?" He tipped her chin. "Do you realize how much you reveal of yourself by simply looking into my eyes?"
She faltered, fighting against tears.
"Aw, Logan. What is it?"
"I. . .I think it's going to take a lot more than Camp Rippling Waters to get Kim and me
through this, Zack. A lot more."
"I know. I know." He tucked back a stray lock of her hair with a tenderness so overpowering, she was certain she would melt. Even if, in the misty moonlight, she couldn't see the tenderness etched on his face, she would still feel it in his touch. "You and Kimberly have a long road ahead," he went on. "But I think these four weeks at camp are a good place to start. Agreed?"
"I suppose so." These few tender fleeting moments had temporarily disarmed her, chipped away just a fraction more at her defenses. And though she determined to put a quick stop to it, she knew first there was more she needed to say.
"Zack. . . .”
“Hmm?”
"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have lashed out at you the way I did."
"Apology accepted. And I'll make you a proposition. There are plenty of activities here at camp other than horseback riding that may not seem as threatening to you. One of my jobs as assistant director—when I'm not tending to the kids' medical problems, of course—is to set up recreational programs that will meet their individual needs. Obviously, some have more needs than others, but my plans are shaping up nicely. I'll talk with Betty Jo, too, about working with us."
"So what do you suggest?"
"Perhaps we can start out by getting Kimberly involved in wheelchair volleyball tournaments, then work up to some nature hikes for kids in wheelchairs. Then around the last week of camp or so when we all agree Kim is ready, let's take another look at putting her on a horse. If she appears to do well, maybe after camp we can get her enrolled in the therapeutic horseback riding program I mentioned earlier." His gaze dropped to her lips for a long, lingering moment, then he met her eyes again. "So what do you say? Is it a deal?"
"Well. All right. But only on one condition."
He broke into a tentative smile, his voice teasing. "Oh, no! The lady's got another condition? Now what?"
She refused to buy into his sudden light-heartedness. "That anytime I'm beginning to feel you or any other staffer is pushing Kim beyond her limits, you'll ease up. That'll be the only way I'll consent to this, Zack. I mean it."
"Hmm." He stroked his chin again, breaking into another smile. "Well, all right. But I must say, you certainly are determined. Even if your determination seems a little misdirected at times." He paused. "Know something, Logan? You and I aren't so different after all. We really do have something rather important in common.
"What are you talking about?"
"Our determination. Whether or not you realize it, you and I are two very determined people. And right now I feel more determined than I have in a long, long time."
Her breath caught as his mouth closed down on hers.
* * *
Logan wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when the tow truck arrived a few minutes later. Zack's kiss had been more wonderful than she'd even dreamed. The afterglow, the memory of his powerful closeness haunted her. And though their embrace had lasted only a moment, she knew she'd never forget it—one solitary heartbeat in the space of a lifetime.
Lucky for Zachary, the van was still operable. With only the jammed right door and a severely dented fender, once the tow truck had winched them free, they continued on their way.
The remainder of the drive had been sprinkled with laughter, silent understanding and gentle moments of light-hearted exchange. Yet as much as Logan tried to deny it, something much more compelling was beginning to claim her. Even Matthew had never affected her this way, though in the first whirlwind days of their brief courtship and marriage, she'd certainly considered herself in love with him.
Why had she ever allowed herself to go off alone with Zack in the first place, she wondered again an hour or so later when sleep refused to come? His obvious dedication to his profession—with countless long hours away from home—would undoubtedly take first place to a wife and children, just as it had for Matthew. Besides, Zack had said he longed to set up his practice someday in a small, rural community. What kind of life would that be for her? No, she simply couldn't allow herself to repeat the mistakes she'd made before. From now on, she must listen to her head, not her heart.
Morning dawned clear and bright, dazzling with an abundance of sunshine and the realities of a new day.
Logan took one last look into the narrow mirror that was mounted against the back of her closet door. She looked awful. She'd hardly slept a wink. After patting her black curls into place, she carefully dabbed on some eye perfector gel to help conceal her tired, puffy lids. Then she squared her shoulders and straightened the name tag she'd pinned above the breast pocket of her white camp shirt. Her crisply ironed top and navy blue flared skirt weren't exactly a uniform—nurses here were supposed to dress casually—but it was the closest thing to one.
Maggie had left earlier for the dining hall. Meals were served in two shifts, the first for the directors, therapists, and other medical personnel before the children and their counselors swarmed in.
Begging off, insisting she wasn't hungry, Logan had urged Maggie to go on without her with the intent of slipping over to cabin 3-B to check on Kimberly.
When she arrived a few minutes later, Kim had just finished shrugging into her favorite Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, apparently with much less assistance from her counselor than she was accustomed to receiving from Logan. Fact was, the cabin was such a riot of chatter and giggles and constant interruptions, Logan could see that Betty Jo had precious little time to spend with any one camper. A brief nose count told Logan the cabin housed a dozen girls about Logan's age with a variety of disabilities.
"Oh, Betty Jo!" Renee was shrieking with delight. "Look! Get your binoculars. I think I see a squirrel up in that tree. Hurry—quick! Before he gets away."
"Betty Jo, help!" a camper by the name of Flo cried. "I can't find my blue socks. They're my newest pair and Mom said not to lose them!" The freckled face girl, whose leg was held fast in a brace, pawed frantically through her suitcase.
Yet Betty Jo, moving calmly from one camper-in-need to the next, appearing mildly bemused, undoubtedly had the situation well under control.
And the pandemonium didn't appear to be hurting Kim one bit, Logan noted. This morning her sister's eyes glittered happily and her arms and face were already nicely tanned from her brief exposure to yesterday's sun.
Logan paused to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Kimberly's ear, lavishing on her an appraising look. "How was your night, pum—?" She bit her tongue before she could finish blurting out the familiar endearment.
"Fun! Lots of fun. Like one big sleep-over!" Apparently, Kim in her enthusiasm hadn't noticed Logan's near slip of the tongue. "Betty Jo let us tell ghost stories for almost an hour after we turned out the lights. And the more we talked, the scarier they got!"
"Oh, no!" Logan gasped. "I bet you had nightmares for sure!"
"Not one, Sissie! No bad dreams at all."
"Are you sure, Kim?"
"Of course I'm sure!"
"Well. . .good." Logan exhaled slowly, unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. For some odd reason, the prospect of letting go of this particular concern for her little sister seemed akin to relinquishing the only reality that existed for Logan anymore; she and Kim were family. They had to stick together. Beyond that, life had no meaning.
Logan squared her shoulders before going on. "Well now. Looks like we're in for another nice day. And, oh, speaking of that, make sure you don't stay out in the sun too long. You do have plenty of sunscreen, don't you dear?"
"Sissie!" Kimberly's head shot forward so quickly Logan was amazed she hadn't bolted right out of her wheelchair. "You made me pack three great big bottles of sunscreen! I've got enough for all the kids in my whole cabin."
Suddenly Zack's words echoed in her mind. "Don't smother Kim so. Give her room to get well."
Logan felt her face flush. Darn that man! Even when they weren't together, he had a maddening hold on her. "Sorry, Kim. I. . .I should've remembered." She hesitated before turning back to the ca
bin door. "Well. . .have fun. I'll see you later."
Swatting at a mosquito that had found its way inside, she entered the white walled infirmary just as Maggie was returning from the dining hall. The two empty cots stood waiting and ready. The faint smell of disinfectant hung in the air.
"You missed one terrific breakfast," the other nurse announced.
"Yeah. And I'm afraid these darn mosquitoes are going to breakfast on me!" Logan paused to scratch the prickly red welt forming on her lower arm. "Already I've counted at least a dozen or more bites from these little beasties. I'm going to end up using as much cortisone cream on myself as I will on the children."
"Better get used to it," Maggie answered. "I've heard there's been a recent hatch. The camp is swarming with mosquitoes, especially down by the creek. I can't remember another summer when it's been this bad."
"Oh, fantastic. I wonder what other pleasant little surprises Mother Nature holds in store for us?" Logan gave a dry chuckle as she lifted the tube of cream from the top shelf of the medicine cupboard and dabbed the thick, white liquid over her bites.
"Well, I did hear one of the kids discovered a family of rattlers beneath the infirmary porch."
"What?" Logan gasped. "Are you talking about rattle snakes?" Had she suspected for a split second that she'd have to contend with those unnerving sinister-looking creatures, she might've thought twice about volunteering.
Maggie's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Yeah. A big fat nest of long, twisting, slithery ones—about fifty in number, maybe—with darting tongues of fire and rattles that would give a million castanets a real run for their money."
A corner of Logan's mouth lifted. "All right, Maggie. So I fell for that one. But just because this is my first time at camp doesn't mean I'm totally naive, you know."
"Couldn't resist poking fun at a brand new staffer like yourself. My first year here. . .well, I won't even begin to tell you about the jokes that were played on me."
"Please! Don't bother." Despite herself, Logan's half smile melted into a grin. Now that she had the opportunity to know Maggie a little better—the slightly plump, blonde nurse worked in rehab at Children’s also—Logan liked her. In small ways she even reminded her of her best friend, Dorothy. Quick witted. Constantly assessing. At least Maggie hadn't pressed her about leaving last night with Zachary—though Logan had sensed Maggie's curiosity had been more than piqued.
Sydell Voeller Special Edition Page 4
