Blame it on Texas (22 page)

As Carol stroked the yellowed fabric, Megan smiled and reached for another book. She pulled an old, worn volume from the box. The cover was faded, the edges of the pages dingy with age, only one word on the front to indicate what it was--Diary. Without opening it, she handed it to Carol. "I think this is something you should look at."

Carol took the book and read the cover, then opened it. "It's Mom's. I vaguely remember her writing something after supper and sometimes in the morning after breakfast. I'd forgotten about it, though."

She read the inscription on the first page aloud. "To my dearest Leona, on the day of our marriage, from your proud husband, Charles Tanner." She closed the cover and hugged the book to her chest. "I'm almost afraid to read it."

Megan thought for a moment, then decided it wasn't betraying Logan's confidence--he hadn't actually told her not to tell anyone, after all. "Did you know Logan believes he's responsible for your mother's death?"

Carol's head snapped up. "What? Why on earth would he think something like that? He was only twelve years old--Katie's age."

Megan related what Logan had told her in the chapel the day Charlie passed away. Just the thought of his pain and anguish that day still had the power to break her heart. She missed him more with each day that passed. Each day she felt herself weakening, more willing to accept a marriage for all the wrong reasons if it meant having him by her side.

She resolutely pushed those thoughts aside and reached for another book. She looked up in surprise when Carol cursed. "What?"

Carol set the diary aside and stood, pacing back and forth across the living room, skirting the boxes and stacks of paper that littered the floor. "That's what this has been about all these years. Damn him." She kicked a box and it skittered across the floor. "Damn him for keeping that stupid notion to himself. Damn him for letting it affect his whole life." She sent papers flying with another well-placed kick. "Damn him for letting it affect mine!"

Megan watched in fascination as Carol fumed and stomped until she finally ran out of steam. Tears dripped from her chin and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

She looked at Megan, a sheepish grin on her face. "It's a good thing you're such a good friend, because I just made a first class fool of myself."

"No, you didn't. I think you just got rid of a lifetime of frustration." Megan stood and brushed the bottom of her jeans. "You might want to read that diary, though, and see if it gives any clue as to what really happened that day."

Carol nodded, her face solemn again. "Yes, I will. I was only eight when Mom died, so it will be like getting to know her again."

***

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. Megan lay in the bed she'd found second hand at the This and That store in Morris Springs and watched the rays of sunshine creep across the windowsill, highlighting the dancing dust particles in the air. Her very first morning in her very own home.

A week at the local motel had given her a deep appreciation for comfort, so she'd bought the best mattress she could find to fit the king-sized four poster bed. As soon as it was delivered, she'd checked out of the motel and moved into the house.

Charlie's things were safely stored at the Lock and Key, Carol had returned to Dallas, and Megan was alone. It felt strange to know she couldn't walk out of her room and find Jean or Nancy making coffee or bustling around getting ready for work. She had only herself and a couple of calves she'd bought from Carol for company.

Then she remembered. This was her last week of total freedom. Next week she would start to work full-time as Doc's partner at the veterinary clinic. So, if she wanted to be settled in before her hectic new life started, she'd better get busy.

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, slightly disoriented when her feet didn't touch the floor. The bed was several inches higher than she was accustomed to. She grinned and slid off the edge. She loved the feel of the smooth hardwood floor on her bare feet, so she stood there for a moment, taking in the room.

She hadn't felt right about sleeping in Charlie's room with him so recently gone, so she'd moved into Logan's room instead. She could almost feel his presence, could almost smell his scent in the early morning air. She felt like crying. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

Shaking her head, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a clean tee shirt. She carried her boots and socks to the kitchen and set them on the table. While the coffee maker worked its magic, she slipped the boots on her feet. She'd just filled her cup when she heard barking outside.

She walked through the living room and opened the front door. When she pushed the screen open, Blue barreled inside and jumped up on her, sloshing coffee over her hand.

Megan quickly set the cup on the television and wrapped her arms around Blue, letting him lick her cheek. "What are you doing here, boy? I've sure missed having you around."

She heard the scuff of booted footsteps on the porch and looked up. Jake stopped on the top step and shook his head. "I give up. That dog belongs here. He doesn't want to stay at my place. Would you like to have him?"

Megan's breath caught. She loved the dog more than she'd been willing to admit. "Are you sure? Carol and I found his papers yesterday in Charlie's desk. He comes from championship stock."

Jake's face closed at the mention of Carol's name, but he nodded. "I'm sure. He hasn't been happy since the day Logan dropped him off." He started to say something else, then seemed to decide against it.

Megan stepped back out of the doorway. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?"

Jake hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside and removed his hat. "You said Carol was here yesterday? Is she gone now?"

Megan started for the kitchen, keeping her tone casual and her voice light. "Yes, she left yesterday afternoon. We finished moving Charlie's things out more quickly than we'd thought, so she went back early."

Jake settled his long, lean body on a ladder-back chair at the table and stretched his legs out. He set his hat on the chair next to him. "Did she say anything about coming back?"

Megan felt sorry for him.  His eyes looked tired, like he wasn't sleeping well. She could understand that, since last night was the first full night's sleep she'd had in weeks. "No, she didn't. But I wouldn't be too surprised if she returned. That's one reason I only bought twenty acres from her, so she'd have a place to come back to."

Jake snorted. "I doubt a couple hundred acres of dirt would be enough to lure her back here. Unless someone struck oil on it, maybe."

Megan smiled gently and touched his hand, bringing his gaze up to meet hers. "I wasn't thinking of the land as the incentive, just an excuse. If you can give her time to sort out her confusion over Charlie's death and her obligation to Logan, I think she'll be back. She left something behind that's she's going to need."

Jake raised a brow and cocked his head, confusion etched on his rugged face. "What's that?"

Holding her gaze steady on his gray-green eyes, Megan said, "Her heart."

Jake's shoulders slumped. "I don't think so. If she cared about me, she wouldn't have left me again. She listened to Logan once before and left me behind." He frowned and crossed his muscular arms across his chest. "I don't think I can forgive her for doing that a second time."

"You're going to see her at the trial, you know. How are you going to handle that?"

"All I have to do is get up on the stand and answer questions. As soon as I'm through, I'll come back home. I won't need to talk to her, so it shouldn't be a problem."

"You aren't even going to try to work things out with her?"

Jake shook his head, his jaw set.

Megan sighed and poured two cups of coffee, then carried them to the table. "Are all men as stubborn as you and Logan, or is it something in the air out here?"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"What are you doing back so early?" Logan took Carol's suitcase and carried it into her bedroom, then waited as she dug through it.

Carol pulled a thin, old book from her bag and turned to study him for a moment. "I found something I thought you needed to see and I couldn't wait to get back here." She placed the book in his hand and curled his fingers around the edge. "Read it. All of it. You know I don't often ask you to do things for me. Well, except for this summer. But this is important. For you, for me, for Katie. Even for Megan."

Wary, he turned the book over to read the cover. When he saw the one word written in a fancy blue script, a chill raced through him. He remembered this book. How many times had he seen his mother sitting at the kitchen table, writing while he and Carol watched television or got ready for school?

He dropped the book on the bed. "I can't. It's private, Carol. Would you want me to read your diary?"

She put her hands on her hips and stared him down. When he didn't look away, her eyes narrowed. "You're afraid, aren't you?"

"Of course not. I don't think it's right, that's all." He turned and walked back to the living room, hoping she'd drop the subject. He should have known better. When Carol got a notion about something, she never let it rest until she got her way.

"Logan, I read it. There's nothing in here that you should be afraid of."

He whirled around and searched her face. Did she know? How? Then he remembered his conversation with Megan in the chapel. "Megan told you, didn't she?"

Carol ducked her head, then straightened her shoulders and met his gaze. "Yes, she did. She didn't want to betray a confidence, but she's worried about you."

He cursed and strode to the picture window and looked down on the street below. Children played on the sidewalk under the watchful eyes of their mothers. Old women sat in the late evening sun, watching grandchildren play. His mother should have had that. She should have grown old with Charlie, been there to see her beautiful granddaughter.

Thanks to him, she never had that chance. "And what do you think, now that you've read it? Is there a miracle cure in there for the guilt eating away at my insides? Is there a magic potion that will bring Mom back?"

She shook her head sadly, but he wasn't sure if the sadness was for him or because there was no magic potion.

"No miracles. Just an explanation that I think you need to read, to understand. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for Katie." She walked over and laid the diary on the coffee table, then arched her back and stretched. "I'm going to take a bath."

When she'd disappeared into her room, Logan felt the book tugging at him, begging him to pick it up. He stomped into the kitchen and pulled a beer from the refrigerator. Then he sat at the table and stared at nothing.

Katie came in a few minutes later and got a soft drink. Then she sat across from him and glared at him without saying a word.

Logan looked up and smiled at her, but she lifted her stubborn little chin and turned her head away. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying to look casual and unconcerned.

He'd already tried begging, pleading, and threatening to ground her for life if she didn't start talking to him again, but so far nothing had worked. So he decided he'd act like nothing was amiss. Maybe that would push her buttons enough to get a reaction.

"Did you know Aunt Carol was back?"  he asked casually.

Katie nodded but still didn't speak.

"Did you know she's talked to Megan recently?"

That got her attention. Her face brightened for a moment and he could tell she was dying to ask about Megan, but she clamped her lips tightly together and shook her head.

"She may have even had a chance to see Blue. Maybe you should go ask her how they're doing?" He hoped she would act on his suggestion, because he wanted to know, too. But he didn't want to be the one to ask the question.