Follow A Wild Heart (romance,) (7 page)

Then there was the awful tearing guilt when she finally admitted to herself that his death had set her free.

At twenty, Eric had been far too young to marry, too young to be a husband, much less a father.

"I think we'd probably have been divorced if he'd lived," she blurted candidly to Logan, and felt amazed at herself for having said it out loud. She'd never admitted that to a living soul before now.

Logan seemed to understand.

"I was engaged once myself," Logan said. "Lucky thing we didn't marry, looking back on it. It was six years ago, and we'd been engaged for over a year before she decided she wanted to be a doctor. Then she also decided she didn't want to be married."

Logan gave a humorless laugh. It had hurt, Brenda's rejection. "Unencumbered, was the word she used. I was mad and hurt and sorry for myself for quite awhile, but now you mention it, I know we'd have ended up a statistic in short order if we'd gotten married."

"Do you think you ever will?" The question was out before she had time to wonder how it sounded. "Get married, I mean?"

"Yes." He sounded absolutely positive, and he swiftly turned the tables on her. "And you?"

There was a long pause. It was something she wondered a lot about, but didn't figure was too likely. "I don't know. I doubt it sometimes." She deliberately turned it into a joke. "I'm getting pretty old, you know. There's Danny, and now there's Mort. I figure he's the tiebreaker. How many guys do you know who would live in the bush with a twelve year old who hates to bathe, where there's no electricity to shave with and a moose calf who eats wool socks?" She skipped the underwear.

He figured he knew one for sure. But he was also pretty certain it might be a mistake to say so quite yet.

"Here's the turnoff for the state park," he said instead. This early, the parking area Logan drove to was still half empty when they reached it, and Lake Itasca shimmered in
the morning sunlight. With the feeling of coming home that natural settings, lakes and woodlands always gave her, Karena slid out of the car.

"Stiff from sitting?" He loved watching the pure pleasure wash over her features as she looked around and stretched her arms over her head in an almost pagan gesture of pure joy.

"A bit. Isn't it great here, the air and the birds?"

"Yes, especially great this morning, having you here to share it."

His compliments made her shy, and she walked over to where a sign gave facts about the Mississippi River, which originated here at Itasca Park. "It says here the name Itasca means true source," she remarked.

"The Mississippi starts here as a little stream flowing from the lake," Logan confirmed. "Hard to believe this same stream is the mighty river that winds its way to the Gulf of Mexico. The big joke, of course, is that you can walk across the Mississippi here without even getting your feet wet, as long as the water level's this low." He grabbed her hand and hurried her along beside him. "C'mon, let's do it. You can tell your grandchildren you waded across the Mississippi with me."

There were rough stepping stones in the shallow stream for that very purpose, and Logan took her hand and carefully guided her across and back as if she were breakable. Karena marveled at how protective he was.

"Wouldn't want you falling in," he said, solicitously holding her around the waist, and Karena suppressed a grin. Balancing on a rolling log on water should be good training for walking across a couple of flat rocks, but if Logan thought she needed help, why protest? She couldn't remember a man being protective of her since she was about two years old, and it felt surprisingly good.

Still, she supposed it was hard for a man to feel protective about a woman who could hurl a double-bladed ax at a tree, hitting it with uncanny accuracy each time. She was
glad suddenly that Logan hadn't attended last night's events. It felt wonderful to be treated as if she were fragile.

"Let's walk over by the lake. It's so clear this morning, isn't it?" she enthused, and he nodded and took her hand.

It felt nice to have her fingers linked in his large, warm hand. Her own hand, which was anything but dainty, still fitted inside his comfortably. She'd noticed that detail yesterday.

The pastoral setting was beginning to have its effect on her, easing away the tensions of the past few days of too many people, too much noise and the pressure of competition. Karena tipped her head back, closing her eyes against the brightness of the sky, drawing into her lungs the clean fresh air, the invigorating smell of water and woods, the heady delight of being in an environment she loved.

"This was such a good idea, Logan." She sighed. "I'm glad you talked me into it."

"Not half as glad as I am," he breathed fervently, loving the new, relaxed animation of her face. "Now, madam, shall we go for a hike, or should we rent a canoe and go boating, or should we eat first and then do everything else later?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Are you hungry already? Didn't you have breakfast?" she asked teasingly, even though she'd had precious little herself.

"I ate bacon and eggs and toast at six o'clock just like the rest of those crazy Gardoms. It's you I'm worried about. You see, when I was making our lunch last night, Danny confided that you have a healthy appetite."

"Oh, he did, did he? And you believed him?"

"Well, his exact words were, 'Mom eats like a horse.' It scared me, and I packed enough lunch for ten hungry forestry students and added a bit, just to be on the safe side." It was a risk, teasing her so blatantly. He'd seen her become both withdrawn and remote yesterday, for reasons he didn't fully understand, and he wasn't at all certain how she'd react to this kind of banter.

He needn't have been concerned, however. Her eyes sparkled up at him, amusement and gaiety in their depths, and he noticed again the deep dimple high on one cheekbone.

"Damn that kid, is nothing sacred? Well, at least now I don't have to starve to impress you with how delicate I am. Did he also tell you about my suits of long red underwear, and my chain saw in the middle of the living room?"

"No, he must have missed that part. He did tell me you do a lot of drawing, though. He said you're really good at it."

Logan's words were now making her faintly wary. Just how much stuff had Danny blabbed about her, anyway? Not that she had anything to hide, but still...

"I do like to draw," she admitted. "Mostly animals in their native surroundings. I use charcoal sometimes, but usually just pencil or pen and ink. I started when I was in Minneapolis, drawing the squirrels and birds in the park."

"I'd like to see your work sometime." His quiet words caused a flurry of uncertainty in Karena. Nobody glorified her drawings by labeling them work, least of all herself. Was he simply being polite, expressing an interest in her hobbies? Or was he telling her obliquely that he wanted to see her again, after the festival was over?

"Let's go for that hike now,” she decided. “What trails should we follow? Have you hiked around here before?"

"Not for years," he replied as they set off along a wellmarked trail that seemed at first to border the lake, a trail cushioned with fragrant pine needles and layers of decayed leaves, which seemed to send an echo of yesterday puffing into their nostrils with every step.

"July is such a wonderful month," Karena remarked. "It always makes me forget how long our winters are."

The woods seemed magic that morning. Sunbeams sent dusty rays angling down among the stately trees, and the peaceful stillness was broken only by the sounds of the animals and birds inhabiting the forest. The path was dry underfoot, carpeted with grass, and here and there were scarlet paintbrushes and bluebells among the thick green foliage and the shadow-dappled gray tree trunks.

It was Karena's world, and she walked along absorbing the special aura of the woods, the smell of pine and ferns and rotting wood. With every step deeper into the wilds, her inner peace and contentment grew. It was as if she took the environment into her body the way others drew spiritual nourishment from theater or art.

Logan was also enjoying the walk, but most of all, he was enjoying Karena's pleasure, the free and easy way she moved, the obvious familiarity she had with her surroundings. They were quiet much of the time, occasionally pointing out to one another a tiny wild flower, or a blue jay among the branches. When the path was narrow, they walked single file, Karena ahead, but as soon as it widened, he moved up beside her and always recaptured her hand in his.

Once she stopped and listened, then put a finger to her lips, cautioning Logan to silence. They stood frozen for countless seconds and then out of the underbrush ten yards ahead of them stepped a deer with a delicate face like an overgrown mouse, huge ears tipped forward, nostrils quivering as it nervously sniffed the air. It stood immobile for several seconds and then bounded off into the brush.

"I wonder if she has a fawn hidden nearby?" Karena breathed, and Logan remembered the absolute tenderness and wonder that had come over her yesterday when she was holding Nicole.

This woman would want babies with the man she loved. The idea made Logan's heart quicken.

It was growing hotter as the sun rose toward the zenith, and they headed back to the parking area along a secondary path that bordered the lake.

"Want to rent a canoe and paddle to another area to eat?" he suggested, and she nodded eagerly.

There were considerably more people at the main beach than there had been earlier.

"You know how to work one of these things?" he asked a bit later, handing her one of the canoe paddles. "I can paddle alone if you'd rather just enjoy the ride."

"Of course I know how." She was shocked that he would think otherwise. "After all, we live by a lake. But then, I guess that could describe almost everyone in Minnesota, couldn't it?"

He nodded judiciously and returned her grin.

"Actually, Danny and I go fishing a lot using a canoe." Her dimple flashed. "Paddling's great for working up an appetite."

He gave a requisite groan.

Soon, bags of food securely propped in the bottom of the boat along with the plaid blanket, they were skimming across the deep, clear water to a secluded cove Logan said he'd been to before.

Karena couldn't help wondering who he'd brought with him the last time, but she didn't think it was the sort of question to ask, and when they were turning the canoe toward land, he answered it for her anyway.

"Students from the College of Forestry come up here for field sessions. I'm glad to see this cove hasn't changed any in the years since I was here as a student."

"Don't you come here with your students?" she asked curiously, and he shook his head.

"I'm in the research end of forestry, so I don't teach much. It's not exactly the career direction I saw for myself when I graduated. I used to dream about working in some isolated area, living in a log cabin and reading about Walden Pond in front of a crackling fire. Instead, I spend nearly all my time in labs or meetings, and apart from a jog in the park or a day like this, I don't see that much of nature at all. Mind you, I don't miss being outside on wet or stormy days in the winter, either."

Karena watched the spin of rainbow colors caught in the drops of water cascading from her paddle.

"It's not great at times. I wasn't joking about the long underwear," she assured him with a grin. "It gets freezing cold standing around the scaling yard in a snowstorm," she remarked as they beached the canoe and walked up the grassy slope of the little cove.

She spread the blanket in a clearing. The willows and shrubs seemed to form a verdant curtain around them on either side.

Together they started to unpack the monstrous lunch he'd prepared. As one Saran-wrapped package after another appeared, Karena's amusement increased.

"How many sandwiches did you make, Logan? I thought you were kidding about the ten forestry students," she finally said, as he methodically laid out cinnamon buns, apples, candy bars, bags of potato chips—and still more sandwiches.

"A loaf. One of those long ones. And, oh yeah, part of another one. There was stuff left over, and I thought I might as well use it up."

Karena sank to a corner of the blanket, folded her legs beneath her and surveyed the lunch in awe. Each sandwich was gigantic, stuffed high with slices of meat, lettuce, thick pieces of tomato, cheese, pickles, generous gobs of mayonnaise. Each was carefully, clumsily wrapped.

As Danny would say, it was awesome.

She glanced over to where Logan was opening a bottle of wine and carefully pouring it into a plastic glass, frowning and swearing under his breath when it slopped onto his leg. His dark hair was flopping over his forehead, and the lenses of his glasses were dusty, giving the dark eyes behind them a fuzzy look. Appealing. Boyish, and yet not.

He handed her the glass.

"Aren't you having any?"

He reached into the basket and extracted a can of beer.

"I'm not much on wine," he said apologetically.

Frowning anxiously, he studied the quantities of food spread all over the blanket, and slowly a wide, self-satisfied grin spread across his features.

"I guess that's enough stuff, don't you think?"