Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Logan
S he’d been gone almost two months. The longest of Logan’s life. Late summer had turned to the beginning of fall, the green leaves changed into an almost never-ending pile of golden brown.
Golden brown like Harper’s eyes.
Everywhere he saw those leaves, he saw Harper. He was already known for being quiet, but now he was beginning to get a reputation as a grump. His workers approached him cautiously, and even his family were a little wary. He hated that.
But he didn’t know how to fix it.
So instead he was working weekends helping Rhett and Charlie build their Eco Lodge.
Despite the chill air, he was working without a shirt, sweat running down his back to dampen the waistband of his jeans. Logan swung the hammer, banging in nails to fix the siding to the exterior of the building.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His mind drifted as he moved rhythmically through the work, years of practice showing in the efficient way he placed the boards and secured them with nails.
“Are you done?”
Logan turned, irritated that his silent work was being interrupted. He’d just about managed to lose himself in it, and now he had to talk to someone.
Mason stood half a dozen or so feet away, frowning at him.
“No,” Logan said, turning back to his work. “I still have more to go.”
“I wasn’t talking about The Lodge.” He could hear the frown in Mason’s voice. But then again, Mason was always frowning.
Logan decided to humor him. “Then what were you talking about?” He was bending to pick up the next piece of timber when something Mason said had him freezing.
“Sorry?” He straightened and turned to face his big brother.
“Are you done sulking?”
Logan scowled. “I’m not sulking.”
Mason lifted an eyebrow.
Logan flipped him the bird and turned away. “I’m not!” He stomped over to where he had draped his shirt over a sawhorse and dragged it on over his head.
“If you say so.”
What the hell? He just wanted to be left alone. Why couldn’t anyone just realize that he needed time to?—
He stopped midway through tugging the fabric down over his chest.
Shit. He was sulking.
“Shit.”
Mason lifted a six pack of beer from Wilde Brews’n’Blues and gestured with his head for Logan to follow him.
The two men settled down on a couple of folding chairs that had been set up away from the mess of construction. One of those fall leaves that plagued Logan so much drifted down from a tree. He watched it as Mason passed him a can.
They sat in silence for a few long minutes, staring out across the trees at the ocean in the distance. Logan took a pull of his beer, settling into the chair with a sigh.
Fuck, he missed her. Every day he wished she was here. How could one woman work her way so completely into his heart in such a short time?
He ran his hand through his hair. He was overdue for a haircut, but just couldn’t be bothered to deal with the hassle, so it was now too long, brushing his collar and sticking out the sides of his ball cap.
Mason shot him a look.
“Yeah, yeah. You were right.” Logan grumbled, taking another swig for want of anything else to do.
Mason grunted. He turned back to the view, taking a swig of his own beer. “You know what my biggest regret was when I thought I was going to die over there?” His voice was quiet, emotionless.
Logan froze, beer halfway to his mouth. Memories of their mom falling to her knees in the kitchen of his childhood home, cell phone clattering to the floor as she wailed in agony. Of the sleepless days as he, Cassie and Rowan took turns waiting by the phone for any news of Mason’s condition.
They’d all known it was a risk, but after so many years, it just became what Mason did. He went away and he came home. Until he almost didn’t.
Mason cleared his throat. “I never really told you why I went back the last time, did I?”
Logan shook his head. “No.”
“My time was up. I’d planned to discharge.”
Logan’s eyebrows shot up, eyes meeting Mason’s. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t tell anyone. It was going to be a surprise.” He took a swig of his beer. “But I met someone and everything changed.”
That was news to Logan. “Who?”
Mason shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now.”
He turned and met Logan’s eyes. “What matters is that I never told her how I felt. I never told her I loved her. That she was the most beautiful, brave and strong woman I’d ever known.” He shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “I re-upped because I didn’t want to face what loving her meant. I was a coward.”
Logan snorted. “You’re not.”
Mason shot him a look. “There’s more than one type of fear. I had no problem doing my job. But things with…her were complicated, and I was terrified of admitting how I felt.” He leaned a little closer to Logan, his gaze intense. “Tell me about Harper.”
Logan looked away, turning the beer in his hands. “It doesn’t matter. She’s gone now.”
Mason’s hand landed on Logan’s shoulder, fingers tightening until Logan looked at him again. “Do you love her?”
“Yes.” The answer was immediate.
“Have you told her?”
Logan deflated. “No.”
Mason let go of his shoulder. “Don’t be a fucking coward like me. Tell her how you feel before it’s too late.” He stood, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to Logan. “She wants to talk to you.”
Logan took the note, brows crumpled in confusion. “How…”
“I spoke with King. She’s in as bad a state as you are. Is that what you want?”
“No, but?—”
“Cowards make excuses, Logan. Stop making excuses.”
Mason left, leaving Logan sitting there staring at the piece of paper in his shaking hands. As the rumble of the truck’s engine faded, replaced with the gentle sound of a light breeze stirring fallen leaves, Logan finally opened the note.
When he’d finished reading, he felt more settled than he had in weeks. He quickly tidied up the work site, packed his truck and headed home. His home, and hopefully the place Harper would call home, too.
But before that, he had work to do.