Chapter Fifteen
T ris pulled her worn, leather notebook out of her purse, and freed the pen clipped to the spine. She wanted to make some notes about the day, as she always did after one of her trips. Grimacing inwardly, she decided she would skip her brother’s teasing jab in her recounting.
Logan, behind the wheel as they made their way back toward Houston, glanced over when she moved, and when he saw the notebook lifted a brow at her.
“No electronic device?”
“I get enough of that at school,” she said with a slight roll of her eyes. “Besides, this is my personal recounting of what we saw today, and I prefer this when it’s personal.”
“Because handwriting is more personal.”
She was a little surprised he got that. “Exactly,” she said. “And quicker.”
“As long as you don’t lose the notebook.”
She looked down at the heavy leather cover, dyed a dark blue. Ran her fingers over it lovingly. “I’ve had this since high school. I’m not about to lose it now.”
They slowed to an easy stop at a red light. “I bet it’s been refilled a time or two.”
“Yes.” She hesitated, then, because he was looking at her now, went ahead. “It was a gift from my father, who feels the same way about handwriting, and to this day loathes electronic devices. He uses a phone and computer, especially to keep in touch since they moved to Florida, but the griping never ends.”
He smiled. It seemed to come more easily, as if he were…trusting her more. And that, for reasons she didn’t care to analyze just now, pleased her.
“I see why your father picked that one. It matches your eyes.”
She felt a tinge of heat rising to her cheeks and her gaze shot back to his face. But he was already looking away, as if he regretted saying the words. And with a little jolt she realized she didn’t like that he regretted it. Then the light changed, and they were rolling again, and his attention was back on the road ahead.
The rest of the ride home was quiet, because Jeremy had fallen asleep as soon as they’d cleared Houston. Logan told Jackson and Nic to stay put, he was fine to drive the distance, so they wouldn’t wake him up by changing drivers.
Tris couldn’t help wondering if he wanted to drive because he didn’t want to get into that back seat with her again, after what Jackson had said. I see why you like him so much… She’d wanted to punch her brother for it, and the only reason she didn’t was that it would make it worse.
The problem with the silence, which she ordinarily wouldn’t mind at all, was that it gave her imagination too much room to run rampant. The way Logan had looked at her after Jackson’s wisecrack had been unsettling. It wasn’t that it wasn’t true—she did like Logan. She already counted him as a friend, with the potential to be a good one. But Jackson had said it with that tone of implying something more.
Something…romantic.
She couldn’t deny that she felt things she hadn’t felt in a very long time around the man, but…
No. Not that. No wonder Logan had looked stunned. Because he didn’t feel that. Did he?
She found herself thinking of the profound difference between the front and back seats of this car. In the back, with Jeremy sleeping peacefully against his father, whose arm was around Nic, who was in turn snuggled up against his other side, was a family. There was no doubt this was what Jackson and Nic had built. And she was beyond delighted for her brother and her nephew. That Nic was also a friend of hers only made it all sweeter.
But here, in the front seats, were two lost souls, one who’d had a rough life from the beginning and one who had built a beautiful one but lost it. Not that hers had been perfect—she and David were human, after all, and had had their moments—but still, she’d loved him deeply. And was still very aware of the hole his absence left in her life and heart.
She stole glances at Logan now and then, thinking he had one of the most beautiful profiles she’d ever seen, living or in artwork. That perfect nose, the strong, masculine jaw, the corded neck. Once when she looked it was just as a truck was passing in the other direction, headlights flaring and lighting up the inside of the SUV and confirming her assessment.
His hands—those strong, productive hands—were steady on the wheel, and she realized suddenly how smooth a driver he was. Usually she didn’t passenger that well, getting a little queasy at any weaving or chronic braking and speeding up. But she felt nothing of the kind with Logan, because he didn’t do any of that. His driving was efficient, consistent, and he obviously anticipated everything in time to make any necessary adjustments smoothly. She could ride with him even through mountain roads or city traffic.
She could ride with him anywhere.
Her breath caught at her own silent words. This was getting out of hand. She didn’t know what to do with or about the kind of reaction this man caused in her. It had been too long. So long that she had pretty much written off that she would ever have any kind of response like this to a man again. At first, after finally emerging a bit from the maelstrom of grief David’s death had left her in, she had pretty much resigned herself to the role of sister and aunt. Then, just as she’d been thinking she might get through this after all, her beloved sister-in-law had been killed, and she’d been pushed right back off that cliff again.
She’d never thought of herself as a coward, but for so long the outside world had seemed so hard to bear. She’d been consumed by the fight against her husband’s illness, and once it had been lost she hadn’t been sure she knew how to deal with anything else anymore. With a world without him in it.
And then had come more death, of a young woman with everything to live for, leaving the two people Tris loved most in that same sinking boat she’d been stuck in.
She’d forced herself to go back to work, mainly because it took most of her energy. And she made sure her list of places she wanted to visit took up the rest. She’d dealt with feeling more than any human being should ever have to, more intensely, and there was absolutely nothing left.
Or so she’d thought. Until Logan Fox had stepped out of the periphery and into the middle of her life.
She stayed silent, and refrained from any more surreptitious peeks at their driver until they pulled in through the gate of the Baylor ranch. Then she was able to distract herself by watching, with a beautiful sense of happiness and rightness, as her brother lifted his sleeping son carefully out of the car.
Jackson had always been the brave one. He’d been the one who’d confronted things, the one who had often stood up for her, despite technically being the “little” brother, by a couple of years. And he was proving it all over again now, risking his heart again after it had been pummeled nearly to death, while after more than three times as long she still felt beaten.
She smothered her tangled feelings as she watched her brother so gently cradle Jeremy in his arms. She saw that Nic was doing the same, and the love that fairly glowed from her friend’s face made her tear up.
She was still blinking a bit rapidly after they’d said good night and she and Logan headed to her car.
“You all right?” he asked, a little gruffly, when they were seated again.
“Fine,” she said. “Better than fine. I’m so happy for them.” She nodded toward the house her family had gone into. Odd, she hadn’t quite realized that except for the surrounding trees it resembled Logan’s place, on a rise with what was probably an expansive view out over the Hill Country. She hadn’t been there long enough to look, nor had she been invited to do so, something she’d best remember.
“They’re a good fit,” he said.
“Yes.” She started the engine and backed up until she could make the turn onto the drive to the gate. A much, much shorter drive than the so-called driveway to Logan’s isolated place. “Tell me if I make a wrong turn or something.”
He made an odd sound, almost as if he’d had to smother a laugh. Maybe he was used to people getting lost trying to find his place. Then again, she had the feeling he didn’t have a lot of visitors out there.
They’d been driving for a few minutes when he said, quietly, “Is it always like that for Jackson? That he gets recognized and then…”
“Pretty much, since Stonewall hit big.”
“That’s the real reason for the one-day trip, isn’t it?”
She glanced at him then. “Probably. If he goes and stays somewhere, it gives time for word to get out and around. If he’d gone back tomorrow like Jeremy wanted, there could easily have been a crowd.”
She saw him shake his head slowly. “I don’t know how he deals with that.”
“Sometimes,” she said, letting the smile on her face reflect in her voice in the darkness of the car, “he has help. Like you, today.”
“I was afraid I’d make them angry, and it would blow up into some big deal, but…he just wanted to be with Jeremy.”
Tris felt that now familiar tug again, that no matter how tangled her feelings were, this was a good, kind man who would stand up for his friends. And that outweighed any and everything else. So she would simply have to quash those feelings and treat him as she would any friend who had proven himself.
“And you made that possible,” she said.
He met her gaze then. “But you talked them down.”
“I was going to tell them you weren’t a bodyguard but a nanny.”
His eyes widened. She could see it even in the dim, shadowy light. And then he laughed. He laughed, a real, lingering laugh, and it was a wonderful sound that made all seem right with the world. With her world.
The very thought shocked her.
It was nearly full dark when they reached the turnoff, which she only knew because he warned her about a quarter mile ahead. “Coming this way the water warning is the clue.”
She’d of course seen the warning that the dip in the road could flood in heavy rains—they were a familiar sight out here in the Hill Country. And then she saw the even blacker outline of the oak tree, and slowed even more to make the turn.
“How did you find this place?” she asked as they started up the long drive into the hills.
“It belonged to the man who taught me blacksmithing. I lived in the room behind the workshop for a while, then…” He paused, and she saw a flare of pain in his eyes, a pain that was all too familiar to her. So at least there had been someone he’d cared about, cared deeply if she was any judge.
“He died?” she asked softly. It took a moment, but finally he nodded. “I’m sorry. Losing a mentor like that is very hard.” He didn’t respond, so she tried to brighten her tone. “So you ended up with your little piece of heaven in Texas.”
He did answer this time, and his voice was fairly steady. “Yes.”
“And you were the perfect fit for it.”
“Or vice versa.”
It was odd, how it felt as if they were leaving the world behind the farther they went. “It must be very peaceful out here.”
“It is.” He sounded back to normal now. “As long as you don’t mind the locals.”
She had the feeling he didn’t mean people. “Such as?”
“The usual. Coyotes. Bats. White-tailed deer. The occasional armadillo or tarantula.” He caught her reaction and added, “Didn’t like that last one, huh?”
“I admit if I see one, I jump. But I’ve gotten past the run and hide instinct.”
“And the bats?”
“I love the bats,” she declared. “I have ever since I first got here and saw them at the Congress Bridge in Austin.”
“I appreciate the mosquito-free zone they provide,” he said solemnly, and this time she laughed.
She recognized the big turn from this morning, saw the shadow of the darkened house, and slowed to a stop about where she had then. He was out of the car so quickly it almost stung, but on the heels of her reaction she realized he was simply standing there, leaning against the open car door, looking at…something. Curious, she got out, saw that he was looking almost straight up.
She tilted her head back, and gasped aloud. She was looking at the vast, almost smoky-looking spray of stars that was the Milky Way, clearer than she’d ever seen it.
She’d been obviously aware of the night sky as soon as the sun had set, but she’d been distracted, first by him then by driving, and it hadn’t really registered until his actions had called her attention to it now. She didn’t know how long she’d been standing there, motionless, staring upward in awe, when she felt…something. At last she shifted her gaze, to find Logan watching her.
“Another reason I wanted this place,” he said.
“I feel so oblivious,” she said. “I mean, I’ve seen it, but…not like this.”
“Out here we’re away from any lights from Last Stand, and a good fifty-plus miles, as the bat flies, from the lights of Austin. It makes a difference.”
“An amazing difference.”
There was a moment of silence before he went on, and when he did, he sounded as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “It’s even better from my back deck. The angle’s better and you can lean back on the lounge and just…look.”
She answered without even thinking about it. “I’d like to see that.”
Another moment of silence before he said, sounding the same way again, “Then come on.”