Chapter 8
Logan
Sunday family dinner at the Evans’ household had been nothing short of the chaos Haylee promised it would be, and Logan loved every moment of it.
He’d never seen a dining room table large enough to accommodate sixteen people actually filled with sixteen people.
They had to use both table leaf inserts, and Haylee’s teenage nephew volunteered to sit on an ergonomic ball chair Beth Evans used in her home office so no one had to eat in the kitchen.
Grandma Charlotte would love this, too.
Haylee had invited her, but Grandma Charlotte insisted she stay behind with Jasper to read some mystery novel for her upcoming book club meeting.
If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think she was planning to stay in Sunset Ridge.
But Grandma Charlotte would never leave behind her established, comfortable life in Arizona and the dozens of friends at her retirement community.
Maybe this was simply her way of telling him they should extend their stay through Christmas, which he was already considering since it was only a few days away.
“You’re Army, then?” Marc Evans asked, his question more a grunt, as he took the second table leaf from Logan and placed it in the hall closet.
“I am.”
There’d been light conversation at the dinner table, when Haylee’s dad, Jerry, asked him about West Point, what he did in the Army, and the different places he’d been stationed.
But with so many people with updates to share and at least two conversations happening at all times, he was spared the spotlight for most of the meal.
“You planning to do your twenty years?”
“No, actually.” He cleared his throat. Marc was the first person he’d been honest with about that. No one else knew he wasn’t regular Army anymore, including Grandma Charlotte. But he knew in his gut that lying to Marc was a bad idea. “I’m Reserves now.”
“So, why are you here, then?”
When Logan arrived at the Evans’ house a couple of hours ago, he was hardly able to steal two minutes with Haylee to prepare him for what he was about to walk into.
She confirmed her parents knew about Dylan and Melly, but not much more.
Did her brothers know, too? Did they know about the letter he delivered to her?
He felt as though he was walking into a trap and there was nothing he could do to avoid the ambush.
“I’ll be posted in Anchorage after Christmas,” he said, hoping that was enough of an answer to satisfy the most protective brother. He respected Marc for caring so much about his little sister, but if he were being honest, he’d rather be talking to Cody. That brother smiled more, for one.
“But why are you here, in Sunset Ridge?”
“Fulfilling a promise to a late friend of mine.”
“What kind of promise?”
“You can ask Haylee,” Logan said, refusing to be the one to divulge her secret before he knew he was allowed.
“I know about Melly’s father,” Marc said, pushing the closet door closed and turning to face him in the hall. He folded both arms over his chest, and that, along with his stern expression and towering height, was enough to make any sensible person quiver in their boots.
Logan stood his ground and simply nodded.
“I also know you’re taking Haylee to Anchorage tomorrow to meet Melly’s other grandparents.”
“I know Dylan’s parents,” he said. “It’ll be better if I’m there.”
“Better for who?”
“Haylee,” he said automatically.
Sure, Jim and Marianne would appreciate his being there when they sprang the news of Melly’s existence.
It would be a shock, to say the least. But if he were being honest, he was going so he could support Haylee.
Dylan mentioned more than once how his parents were relieved when he broke things off with her.
How they never thought she was the type of girl Dylan would someday marry.
Even if Dylan were still alive, it would remain true.
The more he got to know Haylee, the less the Haylee-Dylan combination made sense to him.
They were as polar opposite as a couple could be, and not in the yin-and-yang sense that worked.
Their differences would have eventually broken them apart.
Dylan’s parents had foreseen that, so they might be less than thrilled about the news upon first hearing it.
They would come around, and eventually, they’d be overjoyed to learn they had a granddaughter.
But until then, he refused to let Haylee face them alone. Not when he could be there.
“You sure this isn’t something else?” Marc asked.
“What else would it be about?”
“You tell me.”
“I care about Haylee,” he admitted, since it was the truth. He may not have known her for more than a few days, but he couldn’t deny the way he felt. “I’m going, as a friend, to make sure she has support.”
“Just support, huh?”
He folded his arms over his chest now too. Sure, he’d prefer to get along with every member of Haylee’s family, but he’d go to battle if he had to. And he suspected that until he earned Marc’s respect, they’d never get along anyway.
“You think she should tell them alone?” he challenged.
“I just want to make sure you’re not going to take advantage of her.”
“How would I—”
“If this goes badly, and she’s vulnerable—”
“I’d never do anything to hurt Haylee, let alone take advantage of her. She’s important to me.”
“Good,” Marc said. “Remember you said that so I don’t have to hide your body deep in the Alaskan wilderness. I know more than one place no one would ever look.”
“Okay, okay!” Laurel exclaimed, bursting into the hall and pushing her way between them. “That’s enough murder talk for one night. Marc, he’s a guest, remember?”
Marc grunted in response.
“Logan, you’re wanted downstairs,” Laurel said, looping her arm through his and tugging at him until he followed.
“For what?” Marc asked.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Laurel said to her oldest brother as she led Dylan across the house to the basement staircase. “Don’t mind him,” she whispered to Logan when they were out of earshot. “He’s more protective over Haylee than our dad is.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“I agree,” Laurel said. “But it can be a little over the top for a guest coming off his first Evans family dinner.”
“I really do care about Haylee.”
“As long as you treat her like the queen she is, you have nothing to worry about,” Laurel said, the smile she offered him seemingly genuine, though the arm she kept looped through his felt a bit like being held prisoner.
“But if you hurt her, just remember there are four Evans siblings who’ll band together to bury a body. ”
So much for less murder talk.
“Understood,” he said as they descended the stairs.
“Good. I knew you were a smart man.”
The basement staircase opened to a large family room where Melly was passed out on a sectional, several dogs curled up around her as though she were part of their pack.
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer played quietly on a large TV screen.
A fully decorated Christmas tree twice the size of the one in the upstairs living room illuminated the open space in a soft, yet brilliant pinkish glow.
“You’re a good friend. I’m glad you’re going with her tomorrow,” Laurel said, loosening her grip. “She’ll need you.”
He couldn’t remember the last time someone actually needed him.
Grandma Charlotte, despite losing her husband earlier this year, seemed as independent as ever.
Even if he’d selected a different Reserve assignment, she’d eventually have found her way to Alaska.
And Mom? She’d always provided for him. His absent father certainly had no use for him.
Being needed was new, but it felt . . . nice.
“Do you think—” Before he could finish his question, Laurel vanished up the stairs.
He turned, discovering Haylee painted in the soft pink glow of the Christmas tree lights, giving her a magical shine.
She wore a hunter green sweater and black leggings with her hair down, looking casual and wildly attractive at the same time.
That and her peppermint scent had been more than a little distracting at the dinner table.
You’re a good friend.
“Would you believe I have this entire movie memorized?” she said, approaching him. Allie lifted her head from the couch, but only for a moment before she dropped it right back on Melly’s hip. She let out a sigh, as though annoyed at the disturbance, eyes falling closed.
“Melly likes it?” he guessed.
“Melly literally will not watch any other Christmas movie since I introduced her to it a couple of years ago.”
“She has good taste.”
“You’re not going to tell me your favorite Christmas movie is Die Hard?” she teased.
“Hey, it is a Christmas movie,” he playfully debated. “But no, it’s not at the top of my list.”
“What’s your favorite, then?” she asked, studying him curiously.
“It’s a Wonderful Life.”
“Really?” Haylee said, sounding surprised.
“It was always the first Christmas movie Mom and I watched, while putting up the tree. I always lost interest by the time the lights were strung, so I’d huddle under a pile of blankets about the time George Bailey tried to jump off the bridge, while Mom finished the tree.
” With all the traveling, he’d yet to watch it this year. “What about you?”
“It used to be this one,” she said, nodding toward the TV. “But after watching it six hundred times in a row, I’m considering picking a new one.”
“That’s not how favorites work,” he teased.
Their gazes locked, and his breath hitched.
Haylee stood close. Close enough that he could count the gold flecks in her amber eyes.
Close enough that he could reach out and tug her next to him.
Close enough to cup her cheek and draw those lips to his own.
He was dying to know if he’d taste peppermint.
One of the dogs on the couch pile let out a loud groan.
They shared a quiet laugh, but the moment was broken. Just as well.
You’re a good friend.
“So, you survived your first Evans family dinner without running out the door two minutes in,” Haylee said, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear. The gesture revealed her slender neck, causing Logan to gulp a swallow. “You should probably get a medal or something.”
“I like your family,” he said, meaning it.
Trying not to focus too much on the way she said first family dinner.
As though there might be more. According to Sadie, they were a Sunday tradition.
But next Sunday, he’d no longer be in Sunset Ridge.
He’d be checked into a hotel in Anchorage, preparing to report to his new post first thing Monday morning.
For the first time, he realized he wasn’t eager to get on the road.
He wanted time to slow so he could savor each and every moment in this small Alaskan town that was quickly stealing his heart. Or maybe it was the woman standing before him who was the thief.
“Even Marc?” Haylee teased, bumping him gently with her shoulder. The sweet peppermint scent of her shampoo teased his senses, tempting him to bury his face in her hair.
“Even Marc.” Or he would, eventually.
Friends.
They could be friends.
Friends meant he could come visit Sunset Ridge and occasionally drop in on a Sunday dinner with this wonderfully chaotic family.
That would have to be enough, because anything more would complicate everything.
“Marc’ll grow on you, whether you want him to or not,” she said, seeing right through him.
“First, he’ll have to hang up his shovel.”
“Oh no, did he threaten to bury your body?”
“To be fair, your sister did too.”
Haylee laughed again, her entire facing beaming. She looked so beautiful in the glow of the lights.
“Hey, I have something I want to show you,” she said, nodding toward the hallway at the back of the room.
He followed her into a room with twin beds pushed up against opposite walls. One was covered in clothes, the other in boxes, as though she were still moving out. He wondered if this was where she and Melly lived before they had their own place. Before he could ask, she held up a letter.
“It’s okay that you haven’t read it—”
“It’s not that letter,” she said.
“I don’t understand.” Upon closer inspection, he noticed the red ink of the return to sender stamp covering a familiar name. He took the letter from Haylee, just to be sure he was seeing things correctly.
It was addressed to Cadet Dylan Webber.
“What is this?”
“I wrote Dylan a letter, the day of Melly’s first birthday.
About Melly. I didn’t have his phone number anymore, and I thought a letter would be a better way to handle things.
To give him more time to process the news in private.
It was eating me up inside that he didn’t even know about his daughter.
I figured he could decide what he wanted to do once he knew.
But then the letter was returned, unopened. ”
He stared at the envelope in disbelief, turning it over. A worn, round sticker with a mountain backdrop was intact over the seal.
“He never mentioned this,” Logan said, feeling betrayed.
“Why would he?” Haylee asked. “He didn’t even open it. The message seemed pretty clear.”
“This doesn’t seem like him,” he said, replaying a hundred conversations they had about Haylee.
Maybe the letter guilted him into talking about her to begin with.
Still, something didn’t sit right. This was so unlike the man who was like a brother to him.
Dylan didn’t keep secrets like this. Not from him.
“I thought you should know, before tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
Jim and Marianne.
“I better get going,” Logan said, handing the letter back to her, feeling a little bit like a lead weight sat in his stomach. He thought he knew his best friend, but this returned letter made him question . . . everything. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
“Hey, is everything okay?” Haylee asked, touching his arm.
For a moment, the world stilled. The heat of her fingers bled through the cotton sleeve of his shirt. Warmth spread up his arm and down to his fingertips. He wanted nothing more than to draw her into his arms, to kiss her until they both forgot all about letters and the past.
“Logan?”
He cupped her cheek, grazing her skin with his thumb. It was a battle to keep his eyes off her shiny lips, and he was losing. His world felt upside down, and she was the only gravity keeping him centered.
You’re a good friend.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before dropping his hand and stepping out in the hallway . . . before he pressed his lips where he wanted most. “Be ready tomorrow by eight.”