Forever and Always (19 page)

Logan knew Cassie had something very different from food in mind, but he wasn't going to satisfy her curiosity. His love for Sibyl would remain unspoken. It was a relief to admit the nature of his feelings to himself. Now he was free to let his feelings go in any direction they wanted. He could feel, hope, dream—as long as he never put his feelings into words.

“Last night's dinner was excellent, but I imagine Jared's cowhands will have eaten every last scrap for this morning's breakfast. Steve could probably have eaten it all himself.”

“He's a nice boy,” Cassie said. “He's got his eye on Opal Sumner, but they're both too young to be doing much more than making eyes at each other.”

About all Logan knew of Haskel Sumner's family was that his oldest daughter, Amber, had married Horace's brother Cato. He wondered how young people went about
making eyes
at each other. At seventeen he'd been too busy to think about girls. Besides, being on the Santa Fe Trail a couple times a year didn't give him much opportunity.

“Did you get to see Laurie's new baby?” Cassie asked. “He's beautiful.”

“Laurie had fed him and put him to bed before I got there, but Kitty brought Jere in to see us. He looks like both his parents.”

“I'd like another baby,” Cassie said, “but I need to find a husband first. Do you know anybody you could suggest?”

Logan knew she was teasing him, but it made him uncomfortable. “A lovely young woman like you must have lots of suitors.”

Cassie frowned. “Not the kind I'm looking for.” She broke into a sexy smile and winked at him. “Now if you were to ask me to marry you, I'd jump at the chance.”

Logan thought the sudden queasiness that came over him was due to Cassie's unexpected comment. No beautiful young woman could be romantically interested in him, so he couldn't understand why her teasing should affect him so. He started to say something, but a dizzy spell caused him to lose the thought. He was about to be very sick.

Sibyl had just reached for her coffee when she heard Cassie scream for help. Leaping to her feet, Sibyl rushed from her office. The sight that met her eyes sent her heart into her throat. Logan lay on the floor unmoving. Cassie was kneeling beside him.

“What happened?” Sibyl asked.

“I don't know,” Cassie said. “We were talking. He was in good spirits. Next minute he seemed to have some kind of seizure, then he just fell down. I didn't know what to do,” she wailed. “Horace has gone for the doctor.”

Sibyl knelt next to Logan. He had lost all color, but his heartbeat was strong. Too strong. It was tumultuous. Sibyl could see it pulsing through the veins on his neck. Was he having a heart attack? A stroke? She wished the doctor would get here soon. She felt so helpless. A racking spasm gripped Logan. He came to his knees, a look of desperation on his face.

“Uh-oh.” Cassie scrambled to her feet, ran to her desk, emptied a bowl of candy she kept to give children and new customers, and ran back just in time to place it on the floor next to Logan. He pulled it toward him and proceeded to empty his stomach. The paroxysms shook his body so violently Sibyl almost expected him to expire right in front of her. She was weak with relief when the spasms finally stopped. She moved closer to Logan and put his head in her lap.

“No,” he managed to say, but his resistance was weak.

“The doctor will be here soon,” she told him. She took the handkerchief from her pocket and wiped his mouth.

“You shouldn't do this.” He tried to pull away, but he didn't have the strength. He was exhausted, his brow covered with perspiration.

“Lie still.” Cassie brought her a basin of water. Using Cassie's handkerchief, she bathed his forehead. He tried to push her hand away, but Cassie gripped his hands and pushed them down to his side. He groaned, and his resistance ebbed.

Horace burst through the bank doors. “The doctor is on his way,” he told them between gasps for breath. “There are people outside waiting to get in. What should I tell them?”

Sibyl didn't look up. “Tell them the bank will open an hour later than usual. Make sure the doors are locked. Cassie can open them for the doctor. I want you to find Colby. I need him to move Logan to my house.”

“I can go back to my camp,” Logan protested. “I'll be all right after a while.”

“You're too intelligent to make such a ridiculous statement,” Sibyl told him. “You haven't been all right from the moment you arrived. You are a very sick man. Are you going to depend on your dog to take care of you?” She didn't wait for an answer but turned back to Horace. “If you can't find Colby, tell Naomi. She'll know who to get. And tell her I intend to put Logan in Norman's bedroom.”

“I can't put you out of your own bed,” Logan said.

“You won't. I haven't slept in that room since Norman died.”

A loud rattling of the door caught her attention. “See if that's the doctor,” she told Horace. Moments later Dr. Kessling came bustling in, muttering about people craning their necks to get a glimpse of what didn't concern them.

“I wish you'd come to see me before now,” he said to Logan. “Then I might have some idea of what's wrong with you.”

“I'm dying. That's all you need to know.”

“Well, you're not dead yet, so let's see what I can do to put that off a while longer. That is, of course, if you're not set upon dying. If you are, just say so, and I'll get back to my breakfast. I hate cold coffee.”

“Don't be absurd,” Sibyl said.

“I'm not being absurd. I'm just irritated. This man's been walking about for weeks looking like his next breath might be his last, and he has refused all entreaties to get himself looked at. Now he collapses, and he expects a miracle cure.”

“I don't expect a cure,” Logan told him. “I was treated by a doctor with a reputation for being able to identify any disease and formulate a cure. After several months, he told me my case was hopeless. I have only a few months to live.”

The words hit Sibyl like a physical blow. She had known Logan was sick, but she'd assumed he would get well. He said he was taking the medicine his doctor had prescribed. He had even been looking and acting better. He'd had the strength to catch runaway horses, the steadiness of hand to win the shooting contest, and the energy to help her win the three-legged race. How could she have believed a man who could do all of that was facing death? He had to be mistaken. Dr. Kessling would find out what was wrong. He wasn't a fancy Chicago specialist, but he was a fine doctor.

“Well, there's still hope,” Dr. Kessling said. “What I have to do now is get you to a bed where you can get some rest. After that, I'll see about getting a little food in you. Maybe a clear broth. If you can keep that down, I'd say there's hope for you yet.”

“It's a waste of your time,” Logan said.

“Well, it's my time, so I guess I can waste it any way I want.”

Sibyl had always admired Dr. Kessling—he was the only doctor she'd ever known—but she was doubly grateful he refused to be put off by Logan's pessimism. It wasn't like Logan
wanted
to die. It was more like he'd given up hope. That was something Sibyl couldn't understand. Several times her life had taken a tragic turn, but she'd never given up hope that she would someday find happiness for herself and her daughter. That was the only way she could face each day.

“How long have you been like this?” the doctor asked Logan.

“How do you mean
like this
?” Logan asked. “Being sick, passing out, or having my face look like it's about to explode?”

“Any or all of the above,” the doctor replied.

Logan struggled to sit up. Sibyl pressed him down until his head rested in her lap again.

“You can get up when Colby gets here,” she told him.

“I can sit up now.”

“But you don't have to.”

“Don't fight her,” the doctor advised. “I've learned never to argue with a woman unless absolutely necessary. And then you should think twice before doing it.”

“You argue with Naomi,” Cassie said. “I've heard you.”

“I haven't in years. And even then, it didn't do much good. But don't distract me. I want to hear what this man has to say.”

“It started at least six months ago,” Logan said. “Sometimes, I think it had begun even before that, but it was hard to tell.”

“Why?”

“At first I was just more tired than usual. I'm thirty-five. I ought to be in the prime of my life. I'd always been able to outwork any man in our company. I was stronger and had more stamina. The stamina was the first to go. My strength went next. I thought I was just working too hard. My father had died, and I was trying to do the work of two men. Occasionally, I would forget something I'd planned to do or when I was supposed to be somewhere, but I credited that to a lack of sleep. I used the same excuse when I started forgetting things I considered minor details.”

“Even men in their prime can suffer from the stress of overwork,” the doctor said. “The mind compensates by blocking out what it can't handle.”

“That's when I started to get sick and have dizzy spells,” Logan continued. “The doctor changed my medicine, but I got worse. He tried several prescriptions, but nothing helped.”

“Did this
outstanding
doctor come up with a diagnosis?” the doctor asked.

“He had several explanations but nothing that fit a specific disease or illness. When my face started to swell, he changed my medicine again. When the swelling didn't go down and my other symptoms got worse, I asked him how long I had. He said only a few months. That's when I decided to leave Chicago. I didn't want people to remember me like this.”

“Why did you choose Cactus Corner? Why did you think people here wouldn't care how you looked?”

His hesitation was only brief, but Sibyl got the impression he was trying to think of an answer that was only part of the truth.

“I'd seen a picture of Jared Smith in a newspaper. It was about his appointment as marshal. The writer implied Jared had gotten the job because of his military experience, but that he'd really taken it so he could pass it on to his foreman, a man who'd served in the Union army under his command. The article went on to describe Cactus Corner. It sounded like the kind of town I'd like to know more about.”

“Sounds like a pretty slim reason to travel a thousand miles to a place you'd never been.”

“What else was I going to do with my time? Sit in a corner and feel sorry for myself?”

“Now that's the kind of thinking I like,” the doctor said. “You don't sound like a man who's ready to give up.”

“He can't give up,” Sibyl said. “He has to teach me how to run this bank.”

“You're doing just fine,” Logan said. “Now it's about time I went back to my camp and let everybody get back to what they were doing.”

He tried to sit up, but he didn't have the energy. It was all Sibyl needed to make up her mind. “We're taking you to my house, so there's no use arguing. You're not well, and you need someone to take care of you. After all you've done for me, it's the least I can do. There's no use arguing,” she said again when he started to protest. “If you're too weak to sit up, you're certainly too weak to ride a horse.”

“What was I just telling you about arguing with a woman?” the doctor asked. “You don't learn very quickly, do you?”

“I'm not used to being helpless,” Logan said. “I don't like it.”

“No man does, but it's nice to be looked after once in a while.” He winked at Sibyl. “You might as well relax and enjoy it. It doesn't last.”

A knock on the door drew their attention. Horace opened the door for Colby. The Sumner brothers followed, carrying a mattress.

“You can give us a hand after we get Logan on the mattress,” Colby said to Horace. “Naomi's at your house,” he said to Sibyl. “She said she'd have the room ready by the time we got there.”

When they lifted him to put him on the mattress, Logan insisted he was well enough to go back to his camp, but no one paid him any attention. The Sumner brothers could have carried him between the two of them, but Sibyl was sure Logan would be more comfortable on the mattress. The men had him out the door in a jiffy.

It was a strange procession that wound through the streets. People who'd been standing outside the bank followed in a shapeless gaggle, asking questions and offering suggestions. People came out of stores, shops, and homes to ask what was going on. The children, never ones to miss a bit of excitement, ran alongside cutting up. She didn't see him, but she was certain Trusty was following as well.

They were not more than halfway home when Logan was shaken by violent tremors.

“Put the mattress down,” the doctor ordered.

Sibyl watched breathlessly as the doctor tried unsuccessfully to ease Logan's distress.

“Bring him into the shade,” the doctor said.

Colby and the other men carried Logan to the shadow of the mercantile. They placed the mattress on the ground, but the tremors seemed to have subsided.

“What do you want us to do?” Colby asked.

“Take him to the house. I don't know what else to do. We can't have him lying in the street with everybody gawking at him.”

People were staring, but they watched because they cared. Most remembered that Logan had stopped the runaway horses. Others admired his gallant effort in the three-legged race. Everyone had sympathy for the illness that had robbed him of his strength and turned his face into a caricature. A second onset of tremors caused many to offer words of sympathy and promises of help. By the time they reached the house, Sibyl felt like she ought to invite the whole town inside.

But there were too many inside already. In addition to the four men, Naomi, and Cassie, who'd followed as soon as she'd locked the bank, Kitty had insisted that Peter and Esther had to be allowed to see Logan. Fortunately, Garnet Sumner was taking care of Naomi's other children and Little Abe, or they'd have been there, too. Mae Oliver had wedged her way inside. She insisted that Sibyl couldn't be expected to take care of Logan by herself. Since the doctor agreed with her, Sibyl had given in.

The men weren't anxious to linger, but the children wouldn't leave. Kitty stood at the head of the bed, out of the way but as close as possible to Logan. Esther stood next to her, but Peter planted himself next to the doctor and pummeled him with questions. Beset with worry about Logan, it was difficult for Sibyl to control her irritation at Peter, but it was obvious the boy was as concerned about Logan as she was. Esther looked confused, but Kitty was solemn, her little face devoid of animation. It was the doctor who finally cleared the room.

“Okay, children, it's time to undress Mr. Holstock and put him to bed, so you'll have to leave.”

“Come on,” Sibyl said to the children. “You can come back to see Logan when he's had time to get some rest.”

Colby stayed to help the doctor undress Logan.

Once downstairs, Naomi gathered the children and took them home with her. Feeling helpless and needing something to do, Sibyl moved to the kitchen to make some coffee. This had always been her favorite room, in part because Norman had refused to enter it. His mother had told him it was undignified for a man to enter the kitchen. Being unable to take all of one's meals in a dining room indicated a loss of status.

“Are you sure you'll be all right?” Mae asked Sibyl. “I can stay until Frank comes home from work. I can come back after I give him his supper.” Ever since the death of her only child in an Indian attack, Mae had never wanted to be home alone.

“I won't know what I'll need until after the doctor has had time to give Logan a thorough examination. I'll send Kitty over if I need anything.”