Chapter Ten
T ris knew she would carry the image in her mind forever. Those bronze horses galloping through that water, all nine of them lit from below, giving them an eerie sort of glow as if they were truly racing across a Texas plain in moonlight, yet in the middle of this urban center. It was exactly what Logan had said. A crashing blend of then and now.
He did, even if he apparently didn’t quite believe it, have a way with words, especially with description. It made her wonder, not for the first time, what exactly he said to those intractable horses he was called to deal with. But she suspected it was not what he said, even if it was a command the animal had heard before, but the way he said it that worked the miracle. Probably in that low, rumbly voice that told the creatures this being should be listened to. It certainly made her want to sit up and listen. Made her want to hear more of it.
And so when, much later than they’d originally planned, they got back in her car for the hours-long drive home, she used the hour as an excuse and announced since it was going to be a long, late drive in the dark, it was up to him to keep her awake and alert.
“Pretty sure that’s a radio of some sort,” he said, nodding toward the dash. “Bet you even have one of those newfangled streaming services connected.”
She smiled wryly. “The only thing that will keep me awake there is the news, and I want to be alert, not furious.”
He laughed. It was low, rough, and short, but definitely a laugh, and in the intimate darkness of her vehicle, it sent a ripple of warmth through her. “Hard to avoid, these days.”
“Indeed,” she agreed. Then she said something she thought would be comfortable enough for them both. “I’ve been thinking I should bring Jeremy on some of these expeditions. So he can learn a bit more about Texas, and the history. Any suggestions, for a kid his age?”
It was odd how she could tell the difference between when he was silent because he didn’t know what to say and when he was thinking about what to say. This was the latter, so she let the silence ride. And after a minute or two, he gave her the results of those thoughts.
“His age, I’d maybe start with the Apollo Mission Control Center, in Houston. Seeing the old gear they did it with is kind of fascinating.”
“Good idea,” she said, wondering why she hadn’t thought of that herself. “Maybe we’ll watch some of the documentaries first.”
“I’d go with the movie on Apollo13,” he said. “Then ask him if he’d like to see where they did it for real.”
“Perfect,” she exclaimed.
“And as long as you’re already in Houston,” he said, sounding now as if he were on a roll, “you might as well slide down to Galveston and see the other extreme, the Elissa .”
“That’s the tall ship, isn’t it? The one they designated the official tall ship of Texas?”
“She is. A three-masted barque. One of the oldest still sailing, launched in 1877.”
“That would be a fascinating jump, from going to the moon to traveling the high seas with only sail power.” She found it fascinating anyway. And she thought Jeremy was curious enough about his new home to be too. “I’ll talk to Jackson, see what he thinks, but I’m sure he’ll be all for it.”
She bit her lip to stop her next words, which would have been, “We could all go together.”
And the entire rest of the drive back to Last Stand, the words and her urge to say them hovered in the back of her mind, as she wondered what had brought that urge on.
*
Silence, it seemed, did not bother her.
As a semi ahead of them let out a short blast on his air horn Logan snapped out of a reverie built of a series of images of today playing back in his mind. He didn’t know how long he’d been drifting, but she hadn’t said anything so he hoped it wasn’t too long. He focused on the road signs, the next one telling him they were nearing Temple, and he thought he’d tuned out about Waco, so not too bad.
“Welcome back.”
Her tone wasn’t critical, it wasn’t even amused, as some people got when he zoned out like that. It was an odd habit he’d had all his life, whenever he wasn’t actually working on something, he could get so absorbed in what was going on inside his head that he was barely a part of what was happening in front of him. The few that knew him well were used to it. They recognized that distant expression he apparently took on, and often used a whistle or snap of the fingers to bring him out of it.
Which brought up the question of how Tris had even known he’d been…gone? They were sitting here in the dimly lit interior of her car. She was focused on the road, not him. So how had she not only known that he’d slipped into that mode, but also when he’d snapped out of it?
He shot her a sideways look, and she smiled. That, at least, he could explain—she had seen his head turn.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Sometimes I get…” He trailed off, not knowing what else to say.
“So do I,” she said, her tone matching the smile. “Ever have those times when you’re heading somewhere and arrive without a memory of how you got there, because some part of your brain’s handling those things automatically, leaving another part to play with that thought you just had, or that thing you just remembered?”
It took him a moment to get past her perfect description of how it worked, for him at least. “All the time,” he finally said.
“I can’t decide if it’s a knack or a curse,” she said lightly.
He was staring at her now. Her profile seemed almost backlit by the various lights they passed, and the oncoming headlights. He thought of that day, of the high school unveiling. He barely remembered the architect, because he’d been so taken by the way Tris had been looking at the man beside her. And he’d wondered again if Carhart knew just how lucky he was.
Yeah, so lucky cancer ate him up a few years later.
And here he was, in a car with the man’s widow, driving through the dark, trying not to dwell on the simple fact of how much he liked her. But at least liking her was okay. He could be friends with her, couldn’t he, as long as he remembered he had no business and no right to be thinking of her any other way?
“Thanks for going with me today,” she said, reminding him he’d yet again let silence take over. “It was a wonderful day, and your take on everything was a big part of that.”
Feeling inordinately pleased at the compliment, he was glad the car was barely lit. “I didn’t mean to launch into the mechanics and methods of working with bronze,” he said, a little embarrassed at the memory of what had turned into almost a classroom-style lecture. But he’d studied a bit about the process, interested in what was, in a way, directly related to his own much more utilitarian metalwork.
“I asked,” she pointed out. “And I learned and enjoyed. For me, that’s a darned near perfect day.”
Before he could stop himself he’d murmured, “It was that.”
“I’m glad,” she said, almost as softly.
And he sat there in the dark as they drove on toward home, the small Texas town beloved by both of them, wishing he had the nerve to suggest they do this again. Soon.
But it was better for both of them if he just kept his mouth shut, for all the reasons he already knew, and probably a few more he didn’t. Because despite the mental wall he’d built, despite all the valid reasons he’d come up with for reining in his unexpected reaction to her, he couldn’t deny one simple fact. When he was with her, all his reasoning took off like a stampeding herd of horses, and the wall he’d so carefully built started to crumble. And no matter how many times he told himself he had no right, that she still loved her late husband, he couldn’t seem to stop it.
So the obvious solution was to stay away. If you can’t have it but can’t resist it, don’t be around it.
Concise words from one of his many foster fathers, delivered about a family friend who had a problem with alcohol, came back to him sharply now. Mr. Gordan had been one of the better ones. Tough, but fair. And usually right. He’d dared to hope he might be able to stay with that family, but he’d been moved yet again when Mrs. Gordan had gotten sick.
He didn’t want to think about it, about never seeing Tris again, but maybe it was the only way. Of course there was always the chance he’d run into her at her brother’s place, but if he was careful to go when school was normally in session, it should be all right. Yesterday’s encounter, which had led to today, had been purely coincidence after all.
He spent a lot of the rest of the drive home wondering why the hell this part of him, asleep and ignored ever since the reality of Gretchen’s “love” for him had punched him in the gut, had awakened now. Awakened only for this woman.
This woman who was not for him.
He’d best heed that long-ago advice.