Across Eternity (19 page)

"For me they will," she insisted.

He gave her an uncompromising stare. "It may take time, but
you’ll find someone and you’ll—"

She looked away from him, focusing on the fire. "No, I
won’t." Shaking her head she added, "I’ll spend my
entire life remembering you."

"You can’t live for someone who is dead."

She pressed her hand against her mouth, holding back the flare of emotion
his statement caused. "There’s no such thing as death. No one ever
dies," she flung his own words at him.

"That’s not fair. You know what I mean." He took a
hesitant breath and reached for her shoulder. "Memories are good but
they’re not a replacement for something physical. You’re going to
need someone you can touch and you can talk to."

Turning, her eyes found his. "Do you want me to touch someone else? Do
you want someone to touch me the way you touch me?"

The thought caused his heart to tighten painfully in his chest. "I
want you to be happy."

"You make me happy."

"I’m not going to be here," he said simply.

"No one will be able to make me happy but you. So finding someone else
would be pointless."

"Why are you getting angry?" He lifted his arm when she rolled
away from him and stepped out of bed. The last thing he wanted was distance
between them but he didn’t try and stop her.

Amber turned and stared at him and when she spoke it was over a loud clap of
thunder. "You’re not that easily replaced and I don’t like
you implying that you are." As the cool air met her body, she felt a chill
sweep over her. She covered her breast with her arms. "No one will ever
know me the way you know me. I’ll never let anyone else in." She
recognized that she was no longer making a statement but a vow.

People were lucky if they experience what she and Logan had once in a
lifetime. She would never look for it again, it would be asking for too
much—it would be expecting too much. Besides, deep in her heart she knew
the possibility of there being someone else didn’t even exist.
Truthfully, she didn’t want there to be anyone else. Logan was the one
for her. "This will last a life time."

Logan sat up in the bed and raked his fingers wearily through his hair.
"I’m concerned."

"I don’t want you to be. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can take care of yourself. That’s not what concerns
me." His eyes moved over her naked body, stopping at her navel.
"You’re young and you have so much life ahead of you. What about
children? Don’t you want children?" He lifted his gaze. "You
deserve to be a mother."

The breath she took was sudden and loud even against the storm that was
raging outside.

"What it is, Amber?"

It took a moment for her to answer him. "If I do have a baby it will
be the one that’s already in me."

"And if there isn’t one?"

"I’m thirsty." She turned toward the sink. "You want
something to drink?"

"Stop."
He took a deep breath.
"Amber, please stop and look at me." When she did, he spoke.
"I can’t have children."

Logan’s voice sounded as solemn as the words made Amber feel. When
they made love Amber had secretly hoped that he was leaving a piece of him with
her. She had prayed that some day, when he was gone, she’d be able to
look into his eyes through their child. The thought of that never happening was
devastating.

"If I could give you –" His words faded when she closed
her eyes, absorbing what he had just told her. He could see her body sway, as
if she was forcing herself to stay erect. Slowly, she lifted her hand to her
belly, her palm moving lightly over it; touching what would never be there—what
he could never give her.

Never in his life had Logan felt anything like what he was feeling now. The
hurt caused his throat to swell and his eyes to burn with tears. He tried to
swallow but he couldn’t. He felt her pain, but even more so he felt his
own. Being a parent would be the one thing he’d never get to experience.

It was ironic there wasn’t much that he couldn’t accomplish if
he set his mind to it, but this was truly beyond his control. If there were
ever a time he felt life was unfair, it was now.

He watched her for a long moment. "There’s nothing in this world
I want more than to know I left you with a child."

"You’re sure," she whispered. "You’re sure
that…you, you…can’t…"

He closed his eyes and oddly all he saw was the crushing look in hers.
"Yes," he finally answered.

Realistically, they both knew they couldn’t miss something
they’d never had. It wasn’t possible. Still there was sadness, a
deep sorrow, which hung in the air like the rich scent of rain. Perhaps, it
came from wanting something that they could never have.

"Don’t move." It was the moment that hit him. The way she
looked, the way she stood, and the expression on her face. "This is how I
will remember you. Just like this.
Bathed in firelight just
after I made love to you."
His eyes moved over her naked body.
"I said I didn’t have a favorite place. I do now. It’s here.
Right here in this room. I’ll come back here a million times just to
remember how you look at this very moment."

She moved back to the bed sensing that something wasn’t quite right.
When Logan lifted the quilt, she crawled underneath and snuggled against him,
aligning their bodies. They remained this way for a very long time, listening
to the thunder and the wind combining into a furious roar above them.

He was too quiet, too still, and Amber could feel the weight of his
thoughts. His disposition reminded her of the night she’d found him
sitting alone, eyes closed, in his chair waiting for her to come and ask him
what was happening between them. She feared what was on his mind now. However,
she wouldn’t ask. She would do what he had taught her, she’d give
him space and time. He would tell her when he was ready.

She thought about the last few weeks they had shared.
Every
moment, every touch, every word spoken between them.
It all played
through her mind in a never-ending loop of memories. She made a promise to
herself that she would never forget any of them. She would remember them daily
to keep them fresh and always there. His soft voice drew her from her thoughts.

"When I was eight my dad handed me my first Karl May book. It was
called
Winnetou.
" He pressed his lips against the arch of her
shoulder, closing his eyes momentarily as he breathed her in. "Have you
ever heard of May?" he whispered against her skin.

Amber shook her head.

"He’s a best-selling author who was born in a small Saxonian
town, in Germany, in 1842. He has written over 70 books. Among his best-known
works is
Winnetou
, published in three volumes between 1876 and
1893."

"What did he write about?" she asked.

"The America frontier.
Basically
cowboys and the Indians.
I read
Winnetou
in two days and became
addicted to the wild-west, especially the American West."

Amber stared at the erratic movements of firelight as it danced across the
wall. She lifted her hand and touched his fingers as they glided softly down
the length of her arm and then back up again. When he talked like this she knew
there was a reason. Eventually, he would get around to making his point.
"Have you read this book to Kevin?"

"Yes, I’ve read the entire series." He kissed her fingers
as they moved past him. "
Winnetou
was an Indian.
A fictional chief of the Mescalero-Apache tribe."

"Geronimo, was an Apache, right?"

"Yes, he was." A huge gust of wind swept over the cottage and
down the chimney causing the fire to sputter and flicker noisily. "In the
last book of the trilogy he ended up dying."

"How sad."

"It had such an impact on me when I got into college I studied the
Apache tribe extensively. They occupied the mountains and plains of southern
Arizona, New Mexico, and also Mexico. I spent a year out there." He
quietly remembered. "Do you know the Apaches believe when you die your
spirit will settle in a land where there is always peace and plenty and there
is neither disease nor death. One can live as he chooses in complete
happiness."

"That sounds like paradise."

"Yes, it does."

"What do you believe?" she asked softly.

"I believe they are right. When we die I believe we have the absolute
freedom to exist as we choose. That’s how you were able to see me when I
was here and you were there." He shifted as his voice grew low and took
on a very serious tone. "I have accomplished so much in my life, but I
can take nothing with me when I go. Nothing except what’s in here."
He moved his hand between them and pressed it against his heart.
"You’re in here." He buried his face into her neck, speaking
gently into her ear. "You’ve always been and you’ll always
be. You are what I will take back. You are what will allow me to live in
complete happiness."

The emotion in his voice, which was a combination of sadness but
understanding, tore at her heart. Amber hid the tears that fell silently down
her cheeks as she willed her body not to shake against his. She had refused to
consider why all this was happening to such an extraordinary man because she
was afraid of where those types of thoughts would lead. Now, she knew. She was
angry. She was angry because he was such a beautiful person, he was hers, and
he was leaving this earth much too soon.

"Would you like to go anywhere else?" he asked.

She shook her head, unable to speak.

"Let’s go home."

She nodded.

There was something else that the Apache’s believe, something that
Logan had intentionally kept from Amber. When an Apache dreams of an owl it
signifies that death is approaching for whoever dreamt it. Last night, during a
brief spell of sleep, Logan had dreamt of a beautiful white owl soaring high
above the cottage, circling around and around as it looked down at him.

That night, the last night they spent in the cottage, Logan held Amber
tightly to him, as if he was making up for time they would never have.

They had been home for several weeks and hadn’t considered doing
anything that involved leaving the house. Taking it easy and enjoying the
leisure of just being home was what slowly eased the exhaustion that had been
accumulated on their trip. That and the fact that most of their mornings were
spent snuggled under the covers until it was so late they felt guilty.

During the nights, which never seemed long enough, they held each other for
hours and if they weren’t relaxed in each other’s warm embrace,
they were making love. When they joined it was explosive and turbulent. It was
more than physical, more than
emotional,
it left them
both only wanting more. Needing to get closer, but never being able to get
close enough. That seemed to be how it was for them.

Amber pulled clothes from the dryer, pressing one of Logan’s shirts
against her face, breathing in his scent. She had sensed a change in Logan
since they had gotten back. Nothing too obvious but it was still there. He was
quieter. That was the first thing she noticed. He didn’t talk as often
when they fell asleep and he spent more time in the office working and a little
less reading and watching the news.

The most concerning change was when they made love. He seemed like he
didn’t want to let go of her. It was usually well into the night before
he would allow her to turn away from him. She knew he liked to hold her but it
was never to the point that she felt smothered. Of course she would never say
anything to him—she didn’t want to hurt him. And she definitely
didn’t want him to think that it was a problem.

She placed her clothes next to his as she neatly folded them, liking the way
they looked stacked side by side. It wasn’t just
Logan,
she knew she had changed, too. In so many ways she had changed. She was
stronger than she ever imagined she could be. She had grown and gained
confidence and understanding in areas that she never thought possible.

Right now she was happy—happier than she had ever been in her life.
She always felt like she was waiting around for that one moment when she
discovered who she was. Well, she had found herself.

She smiled as she loaded the washer and measured out the detergent. She
loved the humdrum of the day’s activities. She woke up looking forward to
them. Preparing meals, cleaning the house, and settling down in the evening to
watch the news with Logan kept things normal. Or they gave her the illusion that
they were normal.

After closing the lid and starting the washer, she scooped the stacks of
clothes in her arms and then left the laundry room. She knew she was in denial,
pretending they could live like this forever, but she found it was the only way
she could cope.

The truth was she was terrified at how all of it would end. Expect for their
last day in Ireland she hadn’t allowed herself to think about what was
going to happen beyond that day. If she did she would break down. Anger would
consume her and she knew how unhealthy it all was. She also realized how much
it would disappoint Logan if he knew she held such resentment.

She turned down the hall, clutching the clothes tightly to her. Logan was so
carefully and diligently trying to teach her not to resent any of it, but sadly
she wasn’t a good student. She didn’t want to feel the pain that
came with letting go and accepting the inevitable. She had grown but apparently
not enough.

Shaking her head, she forced the thoughts from her mind.

"Hey, you," Logan said as he came out of the office and saw
Amber.

"It’s good to see you today," she said with a smile.

"I know I’ve been in there most of the day, haven’t
I." He followed her into the master bedroom.

"You should take a break every once in awhile."

"No, I like to power through it." Stopping her at the foot of
the bed, he cupped the side of her face tenderly as he kissed her cheek.

"Care to help me put these away?" She gestured to the large
stack of clothes she was holding.

"Sure." He took half of them from her.

Moving to the dresser, she began putting things away. "Are you
finished working or are you just taking a break?"

"I am finished. At least for the evening I am." He handed her
three of his shirts. "I’m almost all caught up too. If the phone
rings, I swear I’m not going to answer it."

She took the rest of the clothes he held. "We should have never
traveled for that long."

"I don’t know why you feel guilty, I sure don’t."

"I kept you away from your work," she said as she used her hip
to slide the dresser drawer closed.

"You did no such thing."

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. "I can’t help but notice
how busy you’ve been since we’ve been back."

"I always work a lot." He pointed out matter-of-factly.
"That’s nothing new."

She smiled sweetly.
"If you say so."
She reached for the framed picture on the dresser and then turned it to Logan
so he could see it. "Rachael and I had lunch today. She says to tell you
hello. She helped me pack up some things at my apartment."

A warm smile transformed Logan’s face as he stared at the picture of
Amber and Heather. "How old were you two there?"

"I’m not sure." She lifted her shoulders. "Judging
by the horrendous hair-dos, I’d say maybe around junior high."

He studied the picture. "You two could be twins."

Amber nodded. "I was always a little taller. She hated that."

"How’s that going, packing and moving? I can help you later this
week if you’d like."

She set the picture back. "There’s not much left. It’s odd
when I walk in and see it so empty." She had given Rachael most of the
furniture and a lot of her other household items.

"You’re going to miss it."

She heaved a sigh as she thought about it. "Yes, it was my first
place. Actually, it was both Heathers and my first place. We were so proud when
we moved in." She smiled wistfully. "I can’t count the hours
we spent painting and fixing and rearranging. There are a lot of memories in
that small apartment." She knew she was having a hard time letting go
because it was also the place Heather had taken her last breath.

"You know you can keep it for as long as you want." He told her
when he saw the sadness fill her eyes.

She nodded.

"There’s no rush to move completely out."

"I know."

"Do you want to go out to dinner?" he asked.

"Where to?"

He gave her a questionable look. "Catalina? We can watch the sunset
and sail home in the dark."

She scrunched her nose up. "It sounds nice but I don’t want to
go out. It’s so nice being home."

"To tell you the truth, neither do
I
."

Amber watched him for a moment before she leaned in and kissed him on the
forehead and then worked her way down to the corners of his mouth. Slowly, she
moved across the angle of his jaw to his neck. "I missed you
today," she whispered against his skin as she nibbled on the lobe of his
ear.

He leaned in to her nibbles. "Did you?"

She answered him by covering his mouth with hers and kissing him firmly.
"Let’s stay right here…"

"That sounds nice," he said in between kisses.

"We can do more than just eat too," she said seductively as she
glanced at the bed.

"Yes, we can." He nipped at her lips while he tasted her mouth.
"So much more than just eat."

"And the sunset is nice from the bed," she pointed out
reasonably.

"Mmm, it is."

"And the—"

The movement was sudden and unexpected when Logan took her in his arms and
rotated around, pushing her up against the wall. One hand pushed through her
hair while the other pressed against her shoulder. He watched her eyes lower as
his mouth descended upon hers.

He wanted to make love to her right there, but as he reached for her shirt
something stopped him. It was a shaky feeling that traveled across his body,
starting at his head, moving downward.
As each second passed
it progressed in strength.

"What? What is it?" Amber said, her breaths falling short as he
broke the kiss and pulled away.

Logan shook his head, taking a moment to fight off the sensation, which was
rapidly consuming him. Moving his hands, he braced them on the wall on either
side of Amber’s head. He hesitated and then said, "Just give me a
second."

They both stood there quietly, each of them completely unsure of what to do.
The heated passion which had consumed Logan’s eyes was now gone. He
looked dizzy and confused. And all Amber could do was
stare
helplessly at him while he tried to compose himself.

The silence that followed was long and was not broken until Logan drew in a
shaky breath. The quiet in itself was significant—more profound than
anything either of them could say.

"Logan?" Amber said as she touched him gently.

"I’m okay."

She gestured to the bed. "Do you want to sit?"

"No, I’m fine." He saw the look in her eyes and said,
"Really. I don’t need to sit." He stood a little taller.
"I think I just knocked myself off balance."

"Off balance?"

His hand went to his head.
"When I spun you
around."
He explained.

She gave him a minute and then said, "I’m sure that’s all
it is."

Stepping away, Logan reached for her hand. Holding it tightly he said,
"That’s it. And let’s not dwell on it because it’s a
little embarrassing."

"You don’t have to be embarrassed. Not with me," she said,
watching him closely for some type of sign that he was okay. She smiled warmly,
but her voice was a little higher than usual when she spoke. "You
haven’t eaten much today. Perhaps you’re also lightheaded from
that. And you’ve been working like a maniac."

He nodded in agreement.

"I’ve been marinating veggies for kabobs. Does that sound
good?"

He kissed the top of her hand, holing it against his lips for a long moment.
"Yes."

"Okay, we better get some food in you."

Hand in hand, they walked to the kitchen. They broke away from each other as
they busied themselves with the task of preparing dinner.

"Let’s open a bottle of wine," Logan suggested. "I
have a good Syrah I’ve wanted to try. It should go perfect with the Kabobs."

"That sounds nice," Amber said as she moved to the refrigerator.

Squatting down on his haunches, Logan began looking through the bottles in
the wine refrigerator. "Anna gave it to me for Christmas. The vineyard is
right down the road from her house. Here it is." He stood up and rummaged
around in the drawer for an opener.

As he worked on the cork, Amber set two glasses beside him. "I picked
up the pictures today."

"Did you?" He poured equal amounts of wine in each glass.
Turning, he handed one to Amber.

"I picked them up after Rachael and I had lunch." She took the
wine and smelled it. "Mmm, thank you. I also stopped by the English Tea
Room and got a dozen of their chocolate covered strawberries."

"I can’t wait for dessert." Logan raised his glass.
"A toast."

"What are we toasting?"

"Us."

She tapped her glass to his.
"To us."

Before he took a drink, he looked at her over the glass, held her eyes, and
said, "I wouldn’t trade one single moment. You know that,
don’t you?"

Amber nodded. "Neither would I."

He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. "I didn’t mean
to scare you."

She hesitated and then nodded.

"I’m okay. I think I just overworked myself today. After a meal,
some chocolate cover strawberries and some rest, I’ll be as good as new
tomorrow." He kissed her quickly one more time, this time on the cheek.
"Put me to work. What would you like me to do?"

"You could make the salad, if you’d like."

"I’d like."

She smiled as she took out the cutting board, knife, and the bowl and set
them beside the sink where Logan had put the veggies he was gathering from the
refrigerator. "We took some great pictures on our trip." Grabbing a
plastic bag, she pulled out a head of lettuce, rinsed it, and then handed it to
him.

"Yeah."

He looked better, Amber noted. The unfocused look in his eyes had diminished
and he appeared to be more attentive. "I have one of the
cottage
that I would love to get framed. There are beautiful
storm clouds in the background and the old chair is on the porch. It’s
perfect." She opened the container of marinated vegetables. "I had
forgotten that we took a few pictures of the pub too. I got double prints so we
can split them with your mom and sister."

"They’ll enjoy them."

She popped a cherry tomato in her mouth and then threaded vegetables onto a
metal skewer. "I think I’ll make a scrapbook of each individual
place we visited." She turned and fed him a red bell pepper. "That
way it will be easier for me to keep track."

"That’s a good idea." He kissed her fingers before it left
his mouth. "Anna loves to scrapbook. I believe she makes a yearly one for
Kevin. You might get her to help you."

"That sounds like something nice to do one of these weekends."

Logan scooped up the cucumbers with the blade of the knife and slid them off
into the lettuce he’d already torn. "She’d know where to get
all the stuff too. She might even have most of it."

"I’ll have to ask her about it."

Setting the knife down, Logan braced his arms on the counter and closed his
eyes for a moment. Drawing in a few small breaths he rolled his neck.

Amber looked up when she caught him from the corner of her eye.
"Logan, what is it?"

Opening his eyes, he forced a smile and said, "All done with the
salad." He pushed away from the counter. "I’m going to go
light the grill."