It was the why that had her uneasy.
She lifted the receiver and spoke into the mouthpiece. "Hello?"
A man's voice replied, "Mrs. Grey?"
"Yes."
"This is Deputy Stevens and I'm looking for Sheriff Prescott. May I speak to him, please? We have us an emergency."
"Certainly, Deputy. I'll get him right away."
"Thank you, ma'am."
Caroline set down the receiver and hurried out to the back porch where she stopped and met Logan's worried gaze as she called out to the men circled around the barbecue pit. "Luke? You have a telephone call from Deputy Stevens. He says there's an emergency."
Logan's scowl deepened, but he didn't comment as Luke handed his drink to Jake Kimball and stretched his long legs into a run. The other men followed at a slower pace until the four couples and Holt Driscoll congregated by the back steps. Prodded by an instinct she didn't understand, Caroline descended the steps to stand beside Logan. She took hold of his hand just as Luke Prescott opened the back door.
Logan gripped Caroline's hand hard even before the white-faced sheriff began to speak. "Men, someone needs to get Lucky and Caroline to the hospital. Will has run into some trouble." He raised his voice to be heard over the gasps as he added, "It's not a life-threatening wound, but the boy has been stabbed."
"Stabbed!" exclaimed Holt. "What happened?"
"I need the rest of you to get your guns. It's possible we have some major troublemakers in town. Looks like Lucky's boy tried to make a citizen's arrest and it backfired."
"Arrest? Who did he try to arrest?"
Luke grimaced, briefly dropped his head, then met Logan's and Caroline's stare head-on. "Harvey Logan."
The name meant nothing to Caroline, but all the men reacted in a way that scared her half to death. Holt cleared his throat and said, "You mean
the
Harvey Logan? Otherwise known as Kid Curry?"
Grim faced, Luke nodded. "Lucky, your son just tried to arrest the Wild Bunch's executioner. The good news is that he's going to live to tell about it. Looks like your good luck has rubbed off on your son."
Logan muttered so low that only Caroline heard it. "Lord help us all."
"I hate this place," Logan muttered as they rushed up the steps of the hospital. "I absolutely hate this place." "Thank God it is here," Caroline replied, her voice tight. "We don't have a hospital in Artesia."
They burst through the front doors and Logan zeroed in on the man with a badge. "Will Grey?"
"This way."
As the deputy led them down a short hallway, Logan heard Will's excited voice. The knot of tension inside him began to ease.
"I studied outlaws because of my pa," Will was saying. "He's the famous range detective Lucky Logan Grey. He's brought dozens and dozens of outlaws to justice."
"So you thought you'd follow in his footsteps?" the doctor asked.
"I want to be like my father," Will said, just as his parents entered the room.
Hearing the sentiment as his gaze fell upon his son's bloody shirt, Logan felt as if he'd been stabbed through the heart.
"William!" Caroline said, rushing forward. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, I was lucky, though. Just like Pa." He grinned, his young eyes wide with excitement. "I sensed he was fixin' to turn and I jumped back so the knife just sliced my belly instead of sticking me. Doc Daggett gave me twelve stitches. I guess I should have shot my gun, but I reckon killing a man is something you've got to get used to. I couldn't make myself pull the trigger, so he got away."
"Oh, my." Caroline tossed an accusatory look toward Logan, then grabbed the back of a nearby chair for support.
Logan went cold inside and he had to work to keep his voice level. "Let me clarify. You were carrying a gun?"
Sheepishly, Will nodded.
"The Colt I bought for you?"
Again, a nod.
"Did you have permission to carry that gun?"
A wince. "No, sir."
"In fact, weren't you specifically forbidden to touch that gun unless I was with you?"
"Yes, sir."
"William Grey, you are in so much trouble!" Caroline declared.
"But, Ma, it was Kid Curry! The entire Wild Bunch is here in town! See, I was walking by Swartz View Company and noticed the big photograph in the window. It hadn't been there the day before when I walked by. I couldn't believe it. There they were— Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid, Will Carver, Ben Kilpatrick and Kid Curry. While I stood there gawking, who walked out of Swartz's but none other than Kid Curry. He was staring at a big old stack of prints of the photograph in his hand. Didn't even spare me a glance."
Logan's stomach rolled and he thought he might lose his lunch.
Caroline spoke with a touch of hysteria in her voice. "So you decided to pull a gun on a vicious killer? Will, why would you do such a thing?"
The boy shrugged. "The sheriff's office was just around the corner. I'm as big as Kid Curry. I thought I could get him that far."
"He could have killed you, Will!" Caroline exclaimed. "You could be dead right now. The thought of that makes me... Oh, son."
His mother's obvious fright and concern finally doused Will's excitement and his expression filled with dismay. "I'm sorry, Ma. I didn't mean to worry you. I didn't think. I just... I wanted to make Pa proud."
Instinctively, Logan backed away.
Will continued, "I guess I messed up bad, didn't I? Kid Curry got away because I was bleeding and everyone's attention was on me. He'll warn the others." Will seemed to collapse in on himself at that. "Instead of me catching the Wild Bunch, I'll be responsible for letting them get away." There were tears in his eyes as he looked up at Logan. "Instead of making you proud, I've shamed you."
The urge to flee pounded like a pulse, and it took every bit of self-control Logan possessed not to turn and run. But his son needed words from him now, and Logan summoned his strength and said them. "Don't be stupid, Will. I'm not ashamed of you. I understand what you tried to do and why you tried to do it. However, that doesn't mean that I'm not mad enough to bite the head off a hammer. You broke my rule by carrying the gun, then you compounded the problem by using it in a reckless manner. You came within a fraction of an inch of breaking your mother's heart."
"I'm sorry, Ma. I'm sorry, Pa."
"Oh, baby." Caroline carefully wrapped her arms around Will's shoulders and hugged him tenderly. "If you ever do something so foolish again I'll be the one who kills you."
"Yes, ma'am. I won't. I promise."
She turned to the doctor then and fired off a round of questions regarding wound care and rest. Once the physician reassured them both that their son should fully recover and was free to return home with his parents, Logan took his leave, using the Wild Bunch as an excuse.
While he did go directly to Luke Prescott's office to join the search for Butch Cassidy and his gang, he was, in truth, reacting rather than acting. He couldn't handle seeing Will in bloodstained britches and his mother worried half to death. He'd have done anything to get away from Caroline and the boy at that moment. Joining the hunt for the Wild Bunch simply provided an escape.
The Fort Worth police united with the sheriff's office and Logan in a massive manhunt for the outlaws. They tracked the gang to a boardinghouse in the heart of the Acre where they discovered loot from the First National Bank of Winnemucca, Nevada, but no robbers. As the news spread, Pinkerton detectives, Wells Fargo agents and Union Pacific railroad detectives joined the search. It soon became clear that the Wild Bunch had skipped town.
After working with Range Detective Logan Grey, every one of the law enforcement agencies offered him a job to hunt down the West's most successful outlaw gang.
For three days Caroline waited for Logan to come home. She knew he was busy with the search, understood that he had a personal stake in the outcome, but she also suspected that his absence went on longer than necessary. She hadn't missed how withdrawn he'd been at the hospital.
He'd been shaken by the attack on Will, that much had been obvious. As had the way he'd begun to pull away from them from the moment he saw that Will was all right.
As she crawled into bed on the third night after the incident, she wondered if he'd ever come home again.
She lay in bed reading a novel when she heard the front door open, then shut, and his familiar footsteps climb the stairs. She set aside her book, licked her suddenly dry lips and braced herself.
The moment she saw him, she knew that he was leaving.
"Hi," he said, looking at her but not quite meeting her eyes.
"Hello."
"How is Will doing?"
"He's fine. A little sore. Unhappy at being grounded for two weeks."
"Good. He got off easy. My vote was for six months."
"Six months?" She laughed. "Trust me, having him cooped up for six months would have been a bigger punishment for me. You're still new at this parenting business. A bit more practice and you'll learn."
He froze just for an instant in the midst of unbuckling his gun belt and Caroline knew in that moment.
He's not going to be a parent.
Logan crossed the room and draped his guns over the back of a chair. As he emptied his pockets and tossed the contents into a wooden bowl atop his dresser, he asked, "You did get my messages?"
"Yes. Thanks for letting me know not to expect you. Did y'all have any luck?"
"No. They're long gone. It looks like they've split up, too." He paused as if he wanted to say something, then he briefly closed his eyes and said, "I.. .uh.. .need a bath."
He disappeared down the hall to the bathroom and Caroline allowed herself one little shudder of sorrow, a single tear and a lone sniffle. She was losing him. These last months were all she would ever have. He didn't care enough about her, about their family, to conquer his fear. She wanted to bury her head in her pillow and weep, but instead she worked to rid herself of self-pity. By the time he returned, she'd assured herself that she'd strengthened her resolve and banished the sadness.
He wore a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else. His hair was damp and finger-combed, his skin tanned and toned. Caroline spoke from the heart rather than her mind when she said, "I've missed you."
His immediate stiffening proved she'd made a poor choice of words.
At that point, despite her best efforts, grief overwhelmed her. "Oh, stop it. I'm not a fool, Logan Grey. I know what's happening here."
Defensiveness sharpened his voice. "What do you mean? Nothing's happening here except that I'm going to bed. It's been a hard few days and I'm whipped."
"Don't lie to me."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
She spied the awareness in his eyes, so his continued dishonesty fired her temper even more. "Maybe I am a fool after all. A fool for loving a man who is such a fraud."
"Fraud!"
"Lucky Logan Grey," she said, her voice scathing. "Fearless range detective who has fought dozens of gun battles, hunted down countless criminals, met the most evil of men face-to-face and never faltered. Yes, a fraud. Because he's too afraid to face his own feelings."
"Dammit, Caroline."
"You're leaving, aren't you?"
His mouth set in a grim line. "Tomorrow. Wells Fargo hired me to follow up a lead on Kid Curry. Looks like he's gone East. I'm leaving because of the job, Caroline."
"No, you're not. You're leaving because you're afraid. Afraid of your own family. Afraid to make a home. Afraid of love. Because you had all that in the past and you lost it."
He sucked in a breath past gritted teeth. "You don't know..."
"Don't I? I've suffered my own losses, Logan. My mother died when I was just a girl. My father never shared his heart. The man I married ran out on me."
Now he sputtered a litany of curses beneath his breath.
"Were your losses really any worse than mine, Logan? A loss is a loss. A broken heart is a broken heart. But I'm not afraid to love you, Logan Grey. And I'm not afraid to let you go."
He closed his eyes, acknowledging the blow, and she forged ahead. "I'm a survivor. I managed with Will when I was little more than a child myself, alone and afraid. I can manage now. I want you, but I don't need you in order to survive. You go on and exist, Logan. Will and I will live."
The color drained from his expression and he dropped his chin to his chest, his breaths coming harsh and fast as if he'd run for miles. Or rather, years. He had been running for years, hadn't he?
At that, Caroline's anger drained away. She hadn't walked in his shoes. It wasn't fair of her or right of her to compare the intensity of their losses. He'd lost a child he loved. How would she react if, God forbid, she ever lost Will?
Tears stung her eyes as she grieved for him, for herself, and for their son. "I'm sorry, Logan. I—"
"No. It's okay. You're right, Caroline." He swallowed hard, then confessed, "I'm afraid to stay."
She looked away, blinked back the tears and braced herself to continue. In a soft, composed voice, she said, "I know, and my heart breaks, but not for me as much as for you. I did fine without you all these years, and I'll do fine without you again. And it's the same for Will. We will miss you, but we'll get along all right by ourselves because we will have each other."
"That's good."
"Yes, it is. For us. But you.. .you will be alone again. That's what breaks my heart. Because whether you know it or not, whether you can admit it or not, you love us. You love me."
His eyes were jade-colored pools of pain, his voice gruff and rough as he said, "Kill me now, Caroline. Pick up my gun and shoot me. It would be kinder than what you are doing to me with your words."
She managed a bittersweet smile. "Don't worry. I've said all I need to say. I'm done talking. It's time to act." She reached out a hand toward him. "Lie with me, Logan. Lie with me and tell me goodbye."
Every ounce of self-preservation he possessed told Logan to grab his britches and leave right then. Even as he told himself to go, that this was a mistake, he walked toward her, let her take his hand and pull him down to her. The mattress dipped, the sheet rustled, his towel fell away and he was in her arms.