Forever and Always (22 page)

“Norman didn't like levity. I asked Aunt Naomi what that meant. She said it meant laughing and having fun. Norman didn't like fun, either.”

“Did you love your papa?” Logan regretted the question the moment it was out of his mouth. “I'm sorry. I had no right to ask that.”

“I didn't like him because he made Mama sad.”

“Why did you call your father by his name?” Another question he shouldn't have asked.

“He wanted me to.”

Odd. Why wouldn't a father want his daughter to acknowledge their relationship? Even a very formal person should have wanted to be called
father
.

“Norman wouldn't let me talk at the table,” Kitty told him. “If I forgot, I had to go to my room.”

The more Logan heard about Norman, the more he disliked the man for what he had done to his wife and child. No man in his right mind could fail to find Sybil beautiful and desirable. And he couldn't imagine having a more perfect daughter than Kitty. He couldn't imagine anything better in life than being able to come home to such a wife and daughter. He would have traded all his wealth and success for such a chance. Fortunately, before he could fall into a deep depression, Sibyl returned with the broth.

“I hope Kitty hasn't tired you,” she said as she sat in the chair her daughter had vacated for her mother.

“Kitty could never tire me,” Logan said. “None of the children do.”

“Don't say that too loudly. If Naomi hears you, she'll hire you to look after Peter.”

Logan tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough.

“Don't try to talk,” Sibyl said. “Just eat.”

He
wanted
to talk, but he had so many things to say he didn't know where to start. So he concentrated on eating. Sibyl fed him the broth one spoonful at a time while Kitty watched silently from across the room.

“Who's looking after the bank?” he asked when Sibyl paused.

“I had Cassie post a sign saying we were closed until further notice.”

He started to argue, but she shoved a spoonful of broth into his open mouth.

“The bank is a day-to-day business. You can't ignore it and stay here with me.”

“I can if I want.” Sibyl fed him more broth.

“But you shouldn't. I don't want you to.”

Sibyl gave him a fierce look. “Look me straight in the eyes and tell me you don't want me to take care of you, that you'd rather be in the hotel, that you'd rather be surrounded by strangers than people who'll do everything they can to see that you get well.”

There was so much intense emotion behind that statement that Logan knew Sibyl was asking for something far beyond what her words conveyed. Could her feelings for him be even a distant cousin to his feelings for her? Had she meant the words Kitty said she uttered, or was it just the consequence of an excess of emotion? He couldn't make himself believe Sibyl could love him, but he wasn't willing to discount the chance.

“Of course I'd rather be here than in a hotel. I can't understand why you would want to be the one to take care of me, but I am grateful that you do. Still, I wish you wouldn't.”

Sibyl gave him a spoonful of broth then subjected him to a quizzical glance. “Why do you feel you can't ask for what you want? Don't you feel you deserve it?”

He'd grown up being reluctant to ask for anything for fear it might not be what his father wanted. Later it didn't matter because they wanted the same things. But it was different with Sibyl. What was the point of telling her that he loved her? It would be even worse if she loved him. He hoped Kitty had misunderstood what she heard. He loved Sibyl too much to want her to suffer even a little.

“It's not that I feel I can't ask for what I want or that I don't deserve it. It's that I have no right to ask it of you.”

“You saved my life at the bank. You've been at my side every step of the way as I've tried to learn how to manage it. I owe you a great deal, much more than I can repay by sitting by your bedside or feeding you broth.”

Before he could stop himself, he said, “I don't want you to sit here because it's an obligation. I want you here because you
want
to be here.”

There was silence as both seemed to be shocked by his words. He'd said more than he intended but much less than he wanted. He wondered how Sibyl would respond. Would she take his words with their surface meaning, or would she look for the feelings behind them? He wanted her to know exactly how he felt even as he hoped she would never know. He wasn't used to being at odds with himself. He didn't know how to handle it. He hadn't wanted to marry Bridgette, but he hadn't
not
wanted to marry her either. This time he did care. He cared so much he couldn't decide what to do.

“I do feel an obligation to take care of you,” Sibyl said. Before he could despair, she added, “But I'm here because I want to be. I hoped you would be glad of that.”

Of course he was glad. He could hardly keep from confessing his love before the last words were out of her mouth. Still, he felt guilty. Was it better to admit his love and make the most of the time they had together, or keep silent so she wouldn't be hurt? But if she wanted to be here, wouldn't she be hurt anyway?

“I am glad,” he said. “Only a fool wouldn't be happy to have a beautiful woman by his bedside.”

He could have kicked himself for a fool as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Now he would have to say more than he wanted, but he couldn't let Sibyl believe he cared only for her looks. “I'm sorry. That's not why I'm glad you're here. There are so many reasons that have nothing to do with the way you look.” He couldn't start listing reasons. It would sound clinical. Besides, he would be avoiding saying what he needed to say.

“Kitty said she thought she heard you say you loved me. I hope she misunderstood. I would hate for you to have such feelings for a man who hasn't long to live, but I need you to know that I do love you. It wasn't something I planned. I should have made sure it didn't happen, but I didn't fight it because being with you gave me so much pleasure. Since I intended never to tell you of my feelings, I was free to indulge them as much as I wanted. And I did. I felt like I had found a home here, a place where I could spend my last days in nearly complete happiness. I had you, my work at the bank, and the children. What more could I possibly want?”

“You could want to live.”

He sighed. How did he explain that at some point he had had to face the inevitable? “I
do
want to live, but there comes a time when you have to stop denying a truth that's staring you in the face. I intend to make the most of every minute of every day. I never realized how much I've missed until I came to Cactus Corner.”

“There's even more to discover.”

“Don't you think I've tried? I did everything the doctor told me. I took every prescription exactly as I was supposed to even though I only got sicker. I only left Chicago when the doctor said I only had a few months left. I wanted to…” He was about to say he wanted to see if the man he read about in the paper might be his brother, but that was something he intended to keep to himself. He had made a connection with Sibyl that would cause her pain. He didn't want to do the same to Colby and Jared. “I didn't want people who'd known me all my life to be unable to recognize the man who'd died.”

“Anyone who had known you would see you as you used to be, not what illness had done to you.”

Maybe that's how things happened in Cactus Corner, but people in Chicago were only interested in what was happening now. What used to be meant nothing to them. “Maybe I left because
I
didn't want to see me. There were too many mirrors in Chicago.”

“I can't believe you've ever been afraid of anything.”

He hadn't used to think so, but being told he was dying had caused him to be afraid of loving, of being loved, of finding his family. He hadn't had much to live for when he left Chicago. It had been easy to accept the inevitable, to hide in the shadows until the lights went out. But that wasn't true now. He didn't know how much time he had left, but now was no time to hold back on anything. There was no time to waste. Even tomorrow might be too late.

“I've been afraid of loving you, and more afraid of what you might do if I told you,” Logan added.

“Why?”

“You're a beautiful woman. How could anyone think you could be attracted to a man like me?”

“Norman Spencer was a handsome man. The first man I fell in love with was even better looking, but neither man's character matched his appearance. I finally learned to look inside the man. What I found in you makes you handsome in my eyes. Kitty feels the same way.”

“Kitty is a child who likes me because of my stories. She could fall in love with a bedraggled mongrel because he had sad eyes.”

When Sibyl laughed, it softened her eyes. “You do have sad eyes, and you are a bit bedraggled, but I would never call you a mongrel. I think you're beautiful inside.”

Logan couldn't decide whether he was speechless from the shock that Sibyl would think he was beautiful in any way or from the emotion welling up in his throat. He could never remember feeling anything this strong except fear his adopted father wouldn't keep him. It defied imagination that this woman would love him. He had nothing to offer even for the short time he would be with her.

“I never imagined you would love me. I hoped you wouldn't.”

“Why? Because you think you're going to die?”

“I
am
going to die. If you loved me, my death would cause you pain, and I don't want that.”

“I've suffered pain for a lot of wrong reasons during my life. It would be a joy to suffer pain for something as wonderful as loving you.”

She said it!
She actually said the words. It was no longer a supposition, a hope, even a forlorn dream. As incredible as it seemed, it was real! His heart beat so thunderously he could hardly catch his breath. The impossible had happened. It shouldn't have happened. Reason said it couldn't happen. Yet it had. He didn't understand it. He found the words hard to accept, yet he didn't have to depend on words. It was in the sound of her voice, the look in her eyes, the softness in her expression. And her touch. Could anything feel more wonderful than her hand in his or the gentleness with which she soothed his fevered brow?

He had to live. He didn't know how, but he had to find a way. It was no longer just his happiness at stake.

* * *

“Colby said there was nothing left of your camp,” Sibyl told Logan. “He said it looked like a bear had pawed its way through everything. He couldn't find any trace of your medicine.”

Logan looked to where Trusty was sprawled in a corner. “That was your job,” he said to the dog. “What good are you hanging about here? Now Sibyl has to feed both of us.”

Realizing that his master was talking to him, Trusty got up and came over to Logan and licked his hand. He would have licked Logan's face if he had been allowed to get up on the bed.

“You can't get around me that easily.” Logan's words meant nothing to Trusty. It was the tone of voice that mattered, and Logan knew he didn't sound angry.

Sibyl chuckled. “I don't think he cares about your camp. Kitty can hardly get him to go out long enough to stretch his legs and take care of his business. The minute he finishes eating, he wants to come right back to your room. What are you going to do about your medicine?” she asked. “Do you have a way of getting more?”

“Not without going back to Chicago.” That was out of the question. He had no intention of spending one minute of his remaining time outside of Cactus Corner.

“Maybe Dr. Kessling can prescribe something.”

“Maybe.” Logan doubted it would do any good. If his doctor in Chicago couldn't find a medicine to cure him, how could he expect a doctor in the Arizona Territory to find one? What was the point? The medicine always made him sick without curing him. Wouldn't it be better to enjoy his remaining time without seizures and a stomach that couldn't keep down half of what he put in it? He still felt very weak, but he felt more clear-headed, and that was extremely important. He didn't want to miss a minute of his time with Sibyl.

“The doctor promised to come by this morning,” Sibyl told him, “but first you have several children waiting for their story. Peter reminded me that you have missed two days.”

Logan laughed. “Where are they?”

“Downstairs. Naomi said Peter could hardly finish his breakfast, and you know how that boy likes his food.”

“Send them up. Maybe I can think up a rip-roaring tale to make up for lost time.”

“Kitty says you're not to let Peter cause you to make up stories. She wants them to be real ones.”

“She doesn't miss anything, does she?”

“Not where you're concerned. She loves you like the father she never had.”

Logan took her words to mean that Norman had never been a real father to Kitty, but Sibyl looked stricken, like she'd said something she shouldn't have. She left the room so abruptly, Logan was certain there was something troubling behind her words. He didn't have long to wonder what it might be before Peter came pounding up the stairs and burst into the room. His entrance was so abrupt, Trusty came to his feet with a low growl. Esther was right behind. Both children stared at him with wide eyes.

“What's wrong?” Logan asked. “Do I look that different?”

“I heard Papa tell Mama you had died,” Peter said. “Did you see God?”

“You can't see God,” Esther told him. “Our first Mama said he was a spirit.”

There seemed to be no end to the ways these children could thrust Logan out of his depth. “I must have stopped breathing, and your Mama thought I had died, but I'm fine now.”