Follow A Wild Heart (romance,) (6 page)

He wheeled out of the parking lot and sang softly with the radio all the way back to the farm. He felt as if he could conquer the world.

In the morning, Karena woke before dawn, rolling over to glance automatically at the other twin bed before she remembered where Danny was. The first faint rays of morning were just creeping past the motel's regulation beige draperies at the window, and for a while she lay sleepily, going over in her mind the curious events of the previous day.

She'd won her heats easily during the evening events, and when the exhilaration of winning began to fade she found herself regretting that she'd refused Logan's invitation to dinner.

It would have been fun to celebrate a little with Logan Baxter. She couldn't seem to get the handsome forester off her mind.

Later she'd driven to the shopping center, picked out jeans and underwear for Danny, and then she ordered fried chicken at a fast food outlet in the mall. The constant, buzzing noise of people all around made her feel tired and edgy, and she left most of her dinner untouched.

Hurrying out she'd passed a store that specialized in leisure and sports clothing, and on a sale rack by the entrance was a soft blue cotton knit jumpsuit.

Ten minutes later she climbed dazedly into her truck, the jumpsuit in a bag along with a pair of flat, fashionable leather sandals. She sat behind the wheel for a while, wondering what exactly had taken hold of her back there. She hated shopping, and normally made most of her own clothing, except for the sturdy jeans and work shirts she ordered from the Sears catalog, yet she'd thoroughly enjoyed trying on the jumpsuit, and even finding the shoes that suited it.

And what had possessed her to buy the scented dusting powder and cologne? She'd better darn well win the all around championships after that shopping binge.

But she felt a purely feminine thrill of anticipation as she bounced out of bed and hurried into the shower. There'd be lots of time to get dressed and have breakfast in the coffee shop before Logan arrived.

By eight thirty, she'd put on the jumpsuit, looked at her strange self, taken it off and put on her cotton jeans, taken them off and put the jumpsuit back on.

Enough. She was acting crazy. She finally hurried over to the coffee shop, bolted down a light breakfast and raced back to the motel in case he came early.

Then she realized the whole place smelled of lily of the valley. Throwing the door open to air it out, she nearly knocked Logan off the step just as he raised his hand to knock.

"Darn, I'm sorry, good morning," she blurted, watching the expression on his face alter from surprise to pleasure as he gazed at her.

"Good morning," he finally managed, adding on an expelled breath, "God, you look absolutely beautiful."

She'd read that there was only one correct response to a compliment, and so she made it, feeling her cheeks crease in an irrepressible smile of pleasure.

"Thank you."

Her smile was mirrored on his face, and both of them knew right then that it was going to be a great day.

This morning he was wearing khaki shorts and a white, short-sleeved knit shirt. With one hasty glance, she took in his tall, well-muscled body, his long, strong legs dusted with dark hair. He had worn looking Adidas on his feet, and white socks. There was a clean, trim look about him, as if he'd taken special care shaving and dressing.

"It's going to be sunny and hot today, I heard on the radio on my way over," he announced. "By the way, your son was out at six this morning, learning all about cows and milking machines. He said to tell you hi, and he hoped you won your heats last night."

"The way he acted yesterday, I figured he'd be applying to the juvenile court to get himself adopted by Cliff and Betsy this morning." She realized too late that her remark must sound bitter and resentful. "That sounds awful. I don't mean it that way. I guess it's just tough admitting he doesn't need me as much as he used to," she added remorsefully.'

Logan shot her a perceptive glance and said, "Kids are funny sometimes. I babysat last night while Cliff and Betsy went to a show, and Danny went on and on about you, about how hard you work and how good you are at your job. He's awfully proud of you."

Logan didn't add that his own well placed questions had resulted in a wealth of fascinating detail about Danny's mother. It hadn't been prying, exactly, he reassured himself guiltily. It was more like—well, research.

"He didn't really, did he?" Karena felt both embarrassed and pleased at that information, and then she realized that she and Logan were conducting this entire conversation outside the door of the motel, where people in the other units could hear everything they said.

"Come on in while I get my purse," she suggested, and Logan followed her into the room. It still smelled faintly of her orgy with dusting powder and cologne.

Logan had to duck slightly when he came in the low doorway, and she wondered for a giddy moment what she was doing with this tall, sophisticated, studious looking man, but then as she grabbed her purse from the dresser, she caught a glimpse of herself and her confidence rose. Excitement had put color under the tan on her cheeks.

"I sure like that blue thing you're wearing," he remarked, and she couldn't help smiling happily at him, gratified at the compliment and the admiring look on his face.

Logan couldn't stop looking at her. Her short, shiny curls were like a living halo all around her well shaped head, and she had a tiny bit of makeup on today, just enough to make her soft eyes look huge, her mouth moist and petal pink. The jumpsuit skimmed over her slender shape loosely, but it still clearly outlined her perfectly rounded breasts, tiny waist and narrow hips. It was the sort of outfit only a woman with an excellent figure would dare wear, he concluded. And Karena had an absolutely excellent figure.

"You look so young, it's hard to imagine you've got a son as old as Danny. You must have been a child bride," he remarked, still devouring her with his eyes as she scooped up the keys to the motel room and moved past him toward the door, suddenly a bit self-conscious and aware of being entirely alone with him.

"I'm going to be thirty next June, and I was seventeen when I married. It was a long time ago." Briskly, she led the way out the door and down the motel steps.

He handed her into the car with the naturally chivalrous manners that she remembered from the previous day, making her feel like a lady.

She craned around to look in the rear, and there were several large brown bags resting on the back seat, along with a plaid blanket.

A thrill of anticipation about the day ahead ran down from her scalp to her toes, a giddy, youthful, carefree happiness that was new to her.

Logan steered competently through the early morning bustle of the small city, and then they were on the highway heading south. He drove with the easy grace of a man who enjoyed good machinery.

He shifted his gaze from the highway to her for a moment.

"I've never met a woman who's a log scaler, or one who chooses to live in the woods. Danny described your place for me, and he mentioned that you don't have any close neighbors except for one friend called Gabe." He hadn't been able to determine exactly how old Gabe was, or what his relationship was with Karena, but Danny had said Gabe lived in a small cabin situated on Karena's five acres of land. Logan had immediately been ferociously jealous, and he'd wondered all night about this mysterious "friend."

Now he asked with a total lack of subtlety, "Have you known Gabe long?"

She nodded, and Logan's heart sank until she added, "Gabe must be in his early seventies now. I knew him when I was a child. He was my father's logging partner long ago, and then for years I lost track of him. He turned up out of the blue two years ago, and rented the old cabin on the far side of our lake. It's fabulous having him close. He watches out for Danny when I'm working."

Giddy relief washed over Logan, even as he pieced together more of this unusual woman's life style.

"Don't you ever get lonely, living off in the bush like that?"

She smiled softly, staring past the windshield at the golden promise of the morning, the green woodland rushing by. It was a question she was used to, a question she'd answered dozens of times.

"Don't you ever get lonely, surrounded by all those people in the city?" she countered.

He gave a rueful grin and nodded. "I see what you mean.
I guess loneliness doesn't have too much to do with having people around." He was quiet for a few moments, and then he said thoughtfully, "Some of the loneliest times of my life occurred when I was in the middle of a crowd, now that I think about it. I guess what I really want to know is why you choose to live in the woods, away from essential services like," he grinned roguishly, “movie theaters, restaurants, convenience stores, laundromats. Is it just because of your job?"

"We don't have electricity, telephones, internet, garbage pickup or home mail delivery, either." She added succinctly, "Or indoor plumbing. I miss electricity the most, though. We have a small generator for a water pump and the lights, but it's old, so it's noisy and smelly. I have a propane stove, and a propane backup heating system for the house, but mostly we use wood. We don't even have television, which Danny insists makes him a freak among his schoolmates." She shifted more comfortably into the seat, turning toward him a bit, suddenly wanting to have him understand.

"I love my cabin. I couldn't imagine myself living anywhere but where I live now. I grew up in the bush, in logging camps around the state, wherever Pop was working. He had his own company then, he was a gypo. You know, an independent logger."

Logan nodded. He was familiar with the colloquial term. In earlier days, unions had labeled individuals who went into business for themselves "gypos."

"Gabe was Pop's partner in those days, and he taught me so much about the woods. My childhood was wonderfully happy." Her voice changed subtly. "That is, until my parents sent me to board in Minneapolis with my aunt Ellen, when I turned fourteen. I'd been taking my schooling through correspondence courses. Mom got concerned that I was growing up not knowing how to get along with other kids, prowling through the bush like an Indian instead of going to dances, competing in logrolling events instead of playing basketball. I pleaded with her not to send me, but she figured she was doing the best thing for me, I guess."

Karena stared unseeingly at the green foliage passing by outside the car window, her head turned away from Logan as she remembered those miserable, bitterly unhappy years spent in her aunt's crowded house near an industrial area of the city. She'd been a painfully shy, socially retarded misfit.

"Aunt Ellen was a widow who worked for Pillsbury Mills on a machine that bagged cake mixes all day long. Looking back, I realize now that she must have needed the money Pop paid for boarding me, because she didn't really have room for another kid in that house. She had three daughters of her own, two older and one younger than me. My parents thought it would be good for me to be more like my cousins, to go to a regular high school with kids my own age. They thought they were doing their best for me, but the whole thing was a disastrous mistake."

"Why do you think so?" Logan asked.

"Some kids don't adapt easily, and I was one of them. Those were awful years," she said quietly. "I was homesick all the time for the woods. My cousins could have come from a different planet for all we had in common, and they didn't particularly like the fact that they had to share their mother's attention or their bedroom with me. I hated high school. If Minneapolis hadn't had so many parks, I don't know how I'd have survived. Half the time I skipped out of school and rode my bike to Worth Park for the day. Needless to say, I didn't do very well at my studies. I didn't graduate."

It was difficult to reveal herself to him, to confess that she was a high school dropout. But it was better that he knew her background, hard as it was to relate even now.

"You must have felt so alone," he said softly.

Karena shrugged and turned to give him a faint smile, glossing over details she didn't care to remember. "As soon as I could, I moved back to the type of life I was used to. I married, had Danny and when my husband was killed, I trained to be a log scaler so I'd have a job that would allow me to live the sort of life I wanted. Needed," she corrected, and the passionate conviction in her tone told Logan much more than the words did.

Pity for her twisted his gut into a knot. She'd had a rough time, and it made him feel protective of her, especially when he compared it to his own carefree, happy childhood, growing up with his brothers and sisters, living in the same place until he chose to leave for college.

"How long since your husband died, Karena? Was he a woodsman?" Logan knew he was prying, but he felt he had to know as much as she would tell him. He had to understand her, and there was so little time.

"Eric died when Danny was just a baby, ten months old. We'd only been married two years. He was a faller, and there was a snag—you know, where one tree leans on the other in heavy parts of the woods—and when he cut one down, the other fell on him. It seems like a long time ago now." Another lifetime. Sometimes she barely remembered the blond boy with the brush cut in the faded photo on Danny's dresser, and when she tried to remember details about him, all that came back was the bad stuff, his drinking, the fights, the feeling of having trapped herself in an impossible situation.